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“Like I do what?”
Jumping to her feet and spinning around, she found him standing behind her.
“You scared me.”
He grinned. “My apologies. It wasn’t intentional. Not this time.”
“Very funny,” she muttered. “I was just thinking about your father, and how you inherited his crown.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Is it heavy?”
“It can be. Breakfast is waiting.”
Still slightly unnerved, she moved around the couch, but continued scrutinizing from the corner of her eye. Wearing a cream cable knit sweater, khaki pants, and Gucci loafers, he could have graced the cover of a men’s fashion magazine. It was hard to imagine him being a mob boss.
“You won’t be disappointed,” he promised, guiding her from the room. “Joe cooked up French toast with mixed berries and fresh whipped heavy cream.”
“That sounds delicious, but I shudder to think how many calories I’ll be eating.”
“I think you’ve burned up enough energy in the last eighteen hours to indulge yourself. Besides, you could use a few more pounds.”
“Are you always this cheery in the mornings?”
“That depends on how I wake up,” he replied, shooting her a wink.
She hated how he made butterflies flutter in her tummy, but there was just no controlling her reaction to him. Much to her chagrin, she was falling for him, and try as she might, there was nothing she could do about it.
* * *
Sitting opposite Steph at the breakfast nook, Marco watched her smother a slice of French toast in butter and maple syrup, devour it in under a minute, then lift another piece off the pile. A salacious scene from9 1/2 Weeksfloated through his head. He’d loved the book, perhaps the movie even more. He was about to make a comment when his cell phone buzzed. Retrieving it from his pocket, he discovered a text from Benny.
I’m in her laptop. So far nothing much to see.
“Steph, there’s something I have to do,” Marco muttered, rising from the table. “Keep eating. I won’t be long.”
She looked up at him, nodded, then returned to her breakfast.
Marching a short distance down the hall, Marco entered the room where Benny sat surrounded by computers and electronic equipment. As impressive as the setup was, it didn’t compare to Benny’s domain at Marco’s compound in the city.
“Was it difficult to hack?” Marco asked, looking over his shoulder as Benny perused the contents of Steph’s laptop.
“Not really, she didn’t have any firewalls or encryption, and it’s an older machine. She also has a page on her desktop with all her passwords. Convenient, but not very smart, and they’re all saved in auto-fill on Google.”
“I bet most people do that.”
“For sure,” Benny replied, “and once you’re in, you’re in everything. Anyway, I’ve searched your name and I’ve only found biographical stuff so far, though she’s spent quite a bit of time looking at the club’s website in the last few weeks.”
“Anything on the Zeppelin brothers?”
“She’s definitely tried to find information, but as you know, there’s not a lot to find. You can take her laptop, I’ve downloaded everything, and I’ve loaded a spyware program. I’ll be keeping track of what she does. It’s over there with the Garmin navigator she used, her keys, and her purse,” he finished, pointing across the room to a small coffee table set in front of a loveseat.
“Good work. How long will it take to go through everything?”
“I’m guessing an hour or two. I’m going into her emails now.”
“Let me know the minute you see anything I should know about,” Marco said as he headed to the coffee table, but he’d only taken a few steps when Benny called, his voice tinged with panic.
