than bother with unlocking the combination, she simply tossed the thumb drive into her purse.
Lucy was right. She deserved a break, maybe even a day trip out to Sicily. And if she left the boat, she would be less tempted to hunt Charles down.
Time to hightail it off the boat right after she went to her suite to shower and change.
* * *
Chuck stepped into the narrow corridor, easing the door to Jolynn’s suite closed behind him. His search of her quarters had uncovered some pretty high-tech surveillance gear, listening and visuals of everywhere except the bathroom, for God’s sake. It had taken all his best angling and maneuvering to stay out of the camera’s range. He seriously doubted that Jolynn had been flattening herself to walls by the door, commando crawling past the sofa, and walking across end tables in her bedroom.
The thought that someone had watched her changing, sleeping, vulnerable, had him resisting the urge to put his fist through the wall. Memories of his captivity dogged him, the constant guards and cameras. No privacy. Ever.
It was beyond stomaching to think that Josiah had been responsible for spying on his daughter in such a violating fashion, especially if she didn’t know. And if it was someone else? Then that person was trying to get to Taylor through her. But to what end?
Neither answer made sense in regard to the terrorist chatter they’d intercepted.
Regardless, he’d made sure she was safe from spying eyes. Well, except for his own, but damn it, he was one of the good guys.
The average Joe spy wouldn’t have been able to deactivate the listening device tucked in her kitchenette and the minicams focused on her sofa and bed without alerting the viewer. But then when it came to electronics, he wasn’t the average Joe.
He cracked his knuckles, a rush still pumping through him at winning one for his team today. He’d rewired the suckers so they would loop old data back, which should give him a day or so to figure out what to do next before they learned their techno gear had been sabotaged.
Of course, that meant a return trip to her room, where he would be bombarded again with the scent of her perfume in the air, the silky feel of her shirts as he’d scanned her closet… He shook his head.
Now he should concentrate on work, knowing she was safe for the moment.
The elevator chimed.
Damn.
She was at the pool in a business meeting scheduled to last another ten minutes. Berg had been sure of that from a look-see at Lucy Taylor’s planner in her computer. Odds were, it was the cleaning staff, and he could slip past unnoticed. Odds hadn’t been in his favor since he’d met Jolynn.
His worst fear stepped through the elevator doors. Improvising, Chuck slid to the floor and leaned against the wall as if he’d been waiting for her.
He could hear Jolyyn humming just before she came into sight, head down as she strolled down the corridor, shuffling the file folder under her arm. She sifted through the contents in her sack of a purse. “Wallet, lipstick, silver token, disks, hair clamp. Wallet. Shoes.” She frowned, staring at his feet. “Shoes?”
Her gaze traveled from his boat shoes up to his face. Eyes wary, she said, “You wanted to see me?”
Chuck pushed to his feet. He hated that he’d caused that defensiveness. She didn’t deserve to be caught in the middle simply because he couldn’t control his libido.
He shrugged. “Some crazy redhead says I owe her an apology. And while I sent a note, I thought perhaps more was warranted.”
She nibbled her bottom lip. “That could be.”
“I shouldn’t have kissed you.” He stared at her mouth and wanted to taste her all over again. The impromptu conversation was already barreling down a path he didn’t want to travel.
“That’s not exactly what I had in mind.”
“I shouldn’t have let things get out of control back in Genoa.” He needed to give her a face-saving out. The truth seemed a pretty safe bet.
Lucy was right. She deserved a break, maybe even a day trip out to Sicily. And if she left the boat, she would be less tempted to hunt Charles down.
Time to hightail it off the boat right after she went to her suite to shower and change.
* * *
Chuck stepped into the narrow corridor, easing the door to Jolynn’s suite closed behind him. His search of her quarters had uncovered some pretty high-tech surveillance gear, listening and visuals of everywhere except the bathroom, for God’s sake. It had taken all his best angling and maneuvering to stay out of the camera’s range. He seriously doubted that Jolynn had been flattening herself to walls by the door, commando crawling past the sofa, and walking across end tables in her bedroom.
The thought that someone had watched her changing, sleeping, vulnerable, had him resisting the urge to put his fist through the wall. Memories of his captivity dogged him, the constant guards and cameras. No privacy. Ever.
It was beyond stomaching to think that Josiah had been responsible for spying on his daughter in such a violating fashion, especially if she didn’t know. And if it was someone else? Then that person was trying to get to Taylor through her. But to what end?
Neither answer made sense in regard to the terrorist chatter they’d intercepted.
Regardless, he’d made sure she was safe from spying eyes. Well, except for his own, but damn it, he was one of the good guys.
The average Joe spy wouldn’t have been able to deactivate the listening device tucked in her kitchenette and the minicams focused on her sofa and bed without alerting the viewer. But then when it came to electronics, he wasn’t the average Joe.
He cracked his knuckles, a rush still pumping through him at winning one for his team today. He’d rewired the suckers so they would loop old data back, which should give him a day or so to figure out what to do next before they learned their techno gear had been sabotaged.
Of course, that meant a return trip to her room, where he would be bombarded again with the scent of her perfume in the air, the silky feel of her shirts as he’d scanned her closet… He shook his head.
Now he should concentrate on work, knowing she was safe for the moment.
The elevator chimed.
Damn.
She was at the pool in a business meeting scheduled to last another ten minutes. Berg had been sure of that from a look-see at Lucy Taylor’s planner in her computer. Odds were, it was the cleaning staff, and he could slip past unnoticed. Odds hadn’t been in his favor since he’d met Jolynn.
His worst fear stepped through the elevator doors. Improvising, Chuck slid to the floor and leaned against the wall as if he’d been waiting for her.
He could hear Jolyyn humming just before she came into sight, head down as she strolled down the corridor, shuffling the file folder under her arm. She sifted through the contents in her sack of a purse. “Wallet, lipstick, silver token, disks, hair clamp. Wallet. Shoes.” She frowned, staring at his feet. “Shoes?”
Her gaze traveled from his boat shoes up to his face. Eyes wary, she said, “You wanted to see me?”
Chuck pushed to his feet. He hated that he’d caused that defensiveness. She didn’t deserve to be caught in the middle simply because he couldn’t control his libido.
He shrugged. “Some crazy redhead says I owe her an apology. And while I sent a note, I thought perhaps more was warranted.”
She nibbled her bottom lip. “That could be.”
“I shouldn’t have kissed you.” He stared at her mouth and wanted to taste her all over again. The impromptu conversation was already barreling down a path he didn’t want to travel.
“That’s not exactly what I had in mind.”
“I shouldn’t have let things get out of control back in Genoa.” He needed to give her a face-saving out. The truth seemed a pretty safe bet.
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