The Paris Assignment. Addison Fox
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very fact she wanted to do that had her choosing the opposite.
The brief walk also gave her an opportunity to examine Kensington’s brother. She’d met the oldest, Liam, once before, but never Campbell and she marveled at the distinct differences between the two men. While no one would miss the resemblance as brothers, Liam had a suave charm that was heady when fully turned on. Campbell had a more subtle attractiveness.
His frame was leaner and if she hadn’t felt the strong grip of his hand she might have been tempted to call him skinny.
The memory of that masculine grip had her amending that assessment to lean and rangy as they took a seat on the couch. She watched him shrug out of his jacket and had to acknowledge he was deceptively larger than her first impression, his broad shoulders filling out his button-down shirt.
Oblivious to her assessment, he leaned forward, his hands clasped between his knees. Abby didn’t miss the way his dress shirt stretched to accommodate his movement.
Nope, nothing skinny about him.
“My sister filled me in on your circumstances, but I’d like to hear it from your perspective. Especially since it was obvious the question during the press conference caught you off guard.”
Abby took a deep breath. “I handled Porterfield’s question.”
“Yes, you did. Doesn’t change the fact that he asked it.”
“No. No, it doesn’t.”
“So why am I here? From your perspective.”
“McBane Communications has several satellites in various stages of deployment, development and design. Per today’s press conference, our latest designs are nearing the end of production and will be operational in less than ninety days.”
“Anyone who wants to stop that from happening?”
The decidedly sensual thoughts she’d not been able to shake when looking at him faded at the problems facing her company. “I’ve got a select group of competitors and my competition is stiffer than most. The race for the latest modernizations has implications across the telecom industry.”
“You think it’s another provider?”
She shook her head. “The signature...isn’t identifiable.”
“Signature?” Interest blazed in the depths of his gaze and she felt herself drawn forward at his focus. Most—even members of her own team—tended toward a glazed look when she got going in the inner workings of her business, but Campbell seemed fully engaged.
Tamping the rush of interest that barreled through her own veins, she tried to focus on the point at hand. “Most major providers have a series of protocols in place. Checks and balances in their systems that make it incredibly hard to do anything undetectable. The sheer invisibility of whatever this was—”
“A breach.”
She winced at that, more than willing to drop her poker face. “I’m not ready to concede to that word. But to the original question, another telecom provider just doesn’t ring true for me.”
Abby watched as a series of emotions played across his face. Underlying all of it was that ready curiosity and sheer inquisitiveness that was intriguing. “So not a competitor. Anyone else who’d like to see you fail?”
She couldn’t hold back the small laugh. “I’m sure there are several.”
“Yes, but any of them who has a real reason to do you harm?”
The casual, almost sweet air she’d originally perceived was gone, replaced by a hard man without a trace of humor on his face. The lightning-quick change was as surprising as its source and she sat back and tried to parse out her whirling thoughts.
She knew Kensington Steele—had known her for over a decade—and had met much of the woman’s eclectic family. Her Scottish-Irish grandmother and dyed-in-the-wool British grandfather knew how to leave a delightful—and altogether unique—impression and their smart, interesting and savvy grandchildren followed suit.
But she’d never met Campbell.
There had been whispers of trouble. Nothing that went public, but Kensington had hinted that her brother was too smart for his own good.
Was that the root of his computer abilities? And his very quick leap to overt threats to her and her business?
Add on the fact that he was the one assigned to her problem—a problem that originated in the rarified universe of computer security—and she couldn’t help but wonder if Campbell Steele was the equivalent of fighting fire with fire.
* * *
Campbell didn’t miss the assessing glances of the oh-so-intriguing Ms. Abigail McBane. He’d sensed a sharp, discerning businesswoman throughout her presentation at the press conference, but the woman seated opposite him was an intriguing mix of qualities.
Shrewd, yet perfectly willing to lay a few cards on the table. Smart, in a way that was approachable instead of stuffy and irritating. And very, very beautiful.
He’d been a student of many things through the years, game theory riding high on his list of interests. The choices someone made through a negotiation—and the implications of those choices—had always fascinated him. The average person thought of a negotiation as something simply to win, but the truly adept negotiators—the ones who most often got what they wanted—understood that it took some measure of give and take to net out in an acceptable place.
Abby was honest with her analysis and had also been more than willing to share it with him. So what was her bigger game?
And who was the nameless, faceless threat?
“I can’t imagine anyone wants to hurt my business. Or me,” she voiced the afterthought, in direct opposition to her drawn brows and slight frown.
“Yet you’re sitting on a significant problem in your technology infrastructure. A problem—” he leaned forward for emphasis “—that has possible personal overtones.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Why else are you looking for a resource outside your company to fix it? You clearly don’t trust the people who work for you and have access to that technology.”
The dark depths of her eyes clouded over with a noticeable layer of fear and Campbell inwardly cursed himself for his hasty words.
Damn it.
His brother, Liam, was the smooth one, not him. Why the hell had Kensington sent him into this job in the first place?
Despite his best intentions, Campbell knew his own personality swung more often to blunt instrument than suave operator. And now he’d gone and scared their client, five minutes into their first conversation.
“My sister often accuses me of being so narrowly focused on my goals, my manners suffer. I think this is one of those times.” Campbell sat back, settling into the plush leather of the couch. “Why don’t we start at the beginning and you tell me in your own words what you think is happening and why you felt the need to call us.”
Campbell saw her visibly relax and he felt his own stomach muscles unclench a bit. Damn, but Kensington was right.
As usual.
His rush to solve a problem usually meant a polite facade and any lick of charm he might possess were nowhere in evidence. And if he peeled back the layers of the woman opposite him, it was clear she was more scared than she was letting on.
“Do you mean Kensington or your other sister, Rowan?”
Campbell couldn’t hold back the grin. “Both of them, really. But I was actually referring to Kenzi. She’s accused me of being the proverbial bull in the china shop on more than one occasion.”
Abby—and that was the name he was fast coming to think of her by—cocked her head. “Oh,