“London . . .” he whispered gruffly in her ear, then took hold of her shoulders and forced her to meet his gaze.
“You’re having problems. I think Xander is, too. He’s had five thousand lovers. You’ve had a handful.” She drew in a shaky breath and bucked up her courage. “I’ve never had one. I’m overwhelmed.”
Javier sat up straighter in the bed, shock transforming his face. “You’re a . . . virgin?”
“Yes. Long story. A lot of reasons. I’m ready to change, but at my speed.”
He nodded. “I’d be good to you. I can be damn patient.”
“You’re trying to steal me away from your own brother?”
Wincing, Javier took another bite of his sandwich, washing it down with the water. “Women are like rest stops to Xander. When he finds one, he hops in, relieves himself, then heads back down the road to find another. You deserve better.”
Interesting analogy. “I wasn’t looking for a commitment, just sex. But you’re still my boss. Mixing business and pleasure . . . not such a good idea.”
“It’s a cliché. Everyone is different. I know you met Xander first and that he’s—” Javier swallowed as if digesting a painful thought—“touched you. He’ll find a new girl tomorrow. Me? You’re the first thing I’ve given a damn about in years.”
Chapter Nine
LONDON left Javier’s bedroom, shutting the door behind her, looking pale and tense. Xander dropped her suitcase and his brother’s briefcase right where he stood and charged over to her.
“What happened?” He grabbed her by the shoulders. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head, but wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Nothing.”
The Dom in him wanted to punish her for lying, but she hadn’t agreed to submit to him, or sleep with him, or even go on a date with him. That rankled. Still, he couldn’t let her distress slide. “I can handle the truth.”
“I’m fine.”
Brushing past him, she plucked up her suitcase, then rolled it through the kitchen and the den, then down the hallway to the other two bedrooms. Naturally, she chose the most feminine one, decorated in cream, blush, and plum with lots of mirrors and crystals, hinting at a graceful sophistication. Xander followed.
“I can help you,” he insisted. “Let me take what’s troubling you off your shoulders.”
She stopped, her shoulders losing their starch. “It’s just something I have to work out in my head. Thanks, though. The good news is, Javier is finally asleep.”
Clearly, she wasn’t going to share. Xander tried not to take her lack of trust in him personally, but since he was the only other person in the room, he failed miserably. But pushing her wasn’t going to accomplish anything.
“Are you hungry, belleza? Can I take you out for something to eat?” Maybe they could talk there. She could relax with a nice glass of wine, and they could clear the air. “There’s a lovely French place—”
“We can’t leave your brother. How about calling for pizza? I need to look at all the stuff Javier had scattered across his desk and see what’s critical or has an immediate deadline.”
Not exactly the seduction he had in mind. Xander had gone to Luc and Alyssa’s house full of plans. London needed to hear how beautiful she was. She needed to feel wanted. But everything had turned to shit the second he’d seen her clutching Javier’s hand.
From what he could tell, London had done all the right things to help his brother. After Navarro’s visit and the ensuing Cîroc, her decision to get Javier out of the office had been a godsend. If not for London, what would have happened? Would his brother have found another bottle and finally drank himself to death?
London was right; Javier shouldn’t be left alone. Once upon a time, Xander would have happily left his older brother to take care of himself—and everything else. He usually did it so well. But Javi had suffered a huge blow today. Guilt was eating him alive, and Xander knew his brother would take on even more for the life forming in Fran’s womb that had been suddenly snuffed out.
But the timing just frustrated the hell out of Xander. He’d finally found London after days of searching. He was beginning to get closer to her and slowly winning her over. Javier now stood squarely in his way. How long before his brother pulled his head out of his ass and came after her, too? His guess was not long at all. Javier felt protective of London—at the very least. After all, she was his employee, but Xander didn’t think that was the basis for his brother’s care.
The whole situation had thrown him a curveball. Xander had to think fast or he’d lose London before he even had her. Luc’s advice suddenly echoed in his head.
Share her.
“Let me help.” He nodded to the briefcase.
London looked like she wanted to say yes, but she shook her head as she picked it up, brushed past him, and headed to the kitchen. “He’d kill me.”
Xander followed. “No offense, but you’ve worked there a few hours. I’ve been around this company my whole life. I own half of it, so your NDA can’t actually apply to me. Contrary to what Javier thinks, I’m not useless.”
“I never meant to imply that you were.” She looked horrified he might think that. Still, she hesitated, clearly weighing the pros and cons in her head. Finally, she dragged the briefcase to the table and set it in the middle. “I know who makes a great pizza in this town. If you call them, I’ll spread this out, and we’ll get started.”
Xander wanted to celebrate with a fist pump. He was getting to spend time with London and dig into the family business. Being excited about the first made sense. His belleza was gorgeous, and his first taste of her had merely whetted his appetite. He couldn’t wait to get his mouth on her again. If she gave him half the chance, he’d spread her across the kitchen table, take off that fetching little innocent-miss dress, and make a banquet of her body faster than she could blink.
But he was also thrilled to finally get a shot to participate in the business his family had spent two generations building. He hated feeling distant and useless. Resenting Javier just wore on him. If the booze had taken his brother under, then Xander was more than happy to step in until Javier was well.
London rattled off the name of a local Italian place that delivered, and he looked it up on his phone, dialing as they discussed their favorite toppings. As he ordered, he watched her spread papers out into neat piles all over the table, occasionally gnawing her lip or making clucking sounds until she’d been through everything in the briefcase.
“The last thing I did before lunch today was talk to Doug Maynard—”
Xander snorted. “He’s a douche bag.”
“I gathered that right away,” she said. “But he had some valid points.”
“About the most effective ways to be a pain in the ass?”
London slanted him a chastising stare. “Be serious.”
He kind of was, but figured that repeating himself wouldn’t win any points. “What valid points did he give you?”
“The log-ins that R & D says they need for external testers and contractors . . . They’re being used all over the world. People we don’t really know are accessing S.I.’s databases, including the top-secret files that house upcoming projects. Is that normal? I mean, why do testers need to read about stuff that’s still in the prototype phase?”
“Yes, and they don’t.” A bolt of worry jolted Xander. “Let me see.” He held out his hand, and London immediately placed a folder in his palm.
“Inside is a list of three log-ins in particular. One has been accessed multiple times from India, the UK, and Dubai. Would the U.S. government approve people in far-flung regions knowing their future secrets?”
“It depends on what they’re accessing and the situation.” But probably not.
London dug through another pile of papers until she found the list she sought. Quickly, she scanned it, and Xander had to admit that he was impressed. Within a few hours, she’d developed a sense of their business, using nothing more than whatever Javier had managed to squeeze in before Navarro showed up and her own common sense.
“From this list,” she began, “I’d say what they accessed most had to do with Project Recovery. Javier mentioned it once. I did some filing for him about it. Sadly, I wasn’t able to glean a lot about it yet.”
And Xander had heard nothing more than bits and pieces before Javier saw him and fell silent. He knew it was meant to save the company from its current death spiral. He knew it was some sort of Humvee vehicle on steroids, but that’s all he’d gleaned.
“Were you able to scrape together anything so we could read about it?”
She shook her head. “I think he keeps that kind of stuff locked up. And rightly so.”
Agreed. Xander scanned the list of log-ins and the names of the files accessed, their dates, and the associated IP addresses. “Did you bring Javier’s laptop?”
As if she’d already guessed his idea, London sent him an excited nod and pulled the computer from the briefcase. It booted up quickly, and on the second try, Xander guessed the password.
“How did you do that?” London looked amazed. He liked impressing her.
“We may not talk a lot now, but deep down, I know my brother.” Grinning, he leaned closer and winked. “I’ve got other skills, too. Want to see?”
London rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you do. Let’s stick to business, shall we? I’m thinking we might be dealing with something important.”
Xander groaned in protest, and he only half meant it.
“I think we should start here.” London pointed to the paper from security she’d set on the table, which listed all of the log-ins in question and their passwords.
With Javier’s computer humming between them, he accessed one of the log-ins and looked through its browsing history through the databases. He saved the last ten files that the previous user had looked at and began to open them one by one.
As he launched the third file, Xander got a tingling on the back of his neck that he didn’t like.
“We’re in deep shit. Unless I’m way off base, someone is spying on us.”
London leaned his way and looked at the screen. Schematics, exact dimensions, and materials for Project Recovery used so far. The results of a past computer-simulated test and the projections of the vehicle’s capabilities, right down to all the latest calculations and innovations, all displayed on the screen. According to the next document he opened, the prototype wouldn’t be available for testing until September. Why would testers or other contractors need to know this stuff months in advance?
“As annoying as Doug Maynard is, I think he’s right.” London looked at him expectantly.
“We need to move on this pronto.” The more he thought of someone stealing all of S.I. Industries’ hard work and the money they’d already put into the project, which probably already totaled over ten million, the more furious he got.
“Maynard isn’t going to take that directive from me,” London pointed out.
“And I don’t think we should wait until Javier is awake and sober again. That could take hours.” Xander looked at his watch. “It’s not quite five on the West Coast. I still might be able to catch him in the office.”
The truth was, Doug probably wasn’t going to listen to him either, but since Xander technically signed half his paycheck, the stupid fucker better strap on his ears real quick.
Dragging in a deep breath, he accessed the company’s online directory and found Doug’s office number. The man’s assistant answered and indicated that he was in a meeting. She’d be happy to take a message.
Xander lacked the time and patience for that line. He didn’t care if Maynard was talking to the president or jacking off in the men’s room. Whatever it was could be interrupted—if he wanted to keep his job.
“This is Mr. Santiago. It’s urgent. Put him on. Now.”
The assistant, who sounded all of twelve, gasped. “Yes, sir. Right away, sir. I’ll track him down for you, sir.”
With a smirk, Xander shook his head. He liked that kind of respect in the dungeon with a beauty kneeling for him. From a woman over the phone clearly about to piss her panties because she feared him? Not his bag.
“She thinks you’re your brother,” London mouthed.
He muted the phone. “That’s the idea. I would have had to leave the proverbial message that might have been picked up on the twelfth of never if I hadn’t let her think I was Javier.” He shrugged. “Hey, I’m getting the job done.”
London hesitated. “I can’t argue with that. But Javier might.”
“He needs less stress and bullshit. I can make that happen, if he’ll just let me.”
