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She paused.
“Keep talking. I can listen while I work.”
She came to stand a few feet away, watching him as he uncoiled a cable and fed it into a port in the back of the tower, running it to his own laptop.
“I received a notification that some locked files had been accessed.”
“How did you know it was your former partner?” He flipped open his laptop and set his fingers to the keys. “The cameras picked it up?”
“No. I just had those installed, after she came into the office after hours. Building security saw her.”
“Gotcha. And you believe she stole files.”
“Yes.”
“What kinda files? New tech? Something secret?”
She shifted to lean against the workstation next to him, bringing the scent of cherries and vanilla. The notes hit Jace, reminding him of sundaes at the local ice cream joint back home in Georgia and warm summer nights after baseball games his team lost more often than not. But his parents always took him for ice cream anyway.
“We were working on a new program, something bigger and beyond anything we attempted before.” She leaned over him to point at a series of files that popped up on his screen.
He directed his attention away from how she smelled and how that skirt pulled perfectly over her round ass and focused on his screen.
“These are where the files are stored. If you can find anything at all…” She turned her head to look at him, giving him a closer view of her creamy skin.
“I know where to find you.” He tossed a glance over his shoulder at the table where she’d been working when he entered.
“Where are you from? I hear a drawl in your voice.”
“Georgia. Have you always lived in California?”
“No. I’m a transplant from Portland.”
“I see.” He turned back to his laptop.
Straightening, she gave him a nod and without another word, headed back to her own workstation, shoes flapping the entire way.
His momma’s voice popped into his head.Well, bless her heart,she’d say to that slapping noise.
Jace settled in with the system, checking over security and firewalls. When he looked at the history, he found it had all been erased so no one could see what was accessed that day.
Bronte’s phone rang. She took the call and paced as she talked. Then she took two more calls.
Her shoes were starting to drive him nuts. He considered stuffing earbuds in and blasting some Keith Urban, but it went against Ross’s rules. He had to be present at all times with a client,especiallyif she was his ward.
Bronte Burns wasn’t in need of a bodyguard, just someone who knew all the back doors of a complex system, but she was still a client.
Slap, slap, slap.
Vanilla and cherries hit his senses, and he looked up.
She stood next to him, one arm banded across her tiny middle and the opposite hand cupping her jaw in a thoughtful pose that added more to her sexy schoolteacher look. “Having any luck?”
He tore his gaze away from her. “Enough.”
“Enough,” she repeated flatly. “What does that mean?”
He sat back in the desk chair and tugged the brim of his hat. “I can’t see any history, and there isn’t even a trace left of what was accessed.”
