Tempted & Taken (Men of Haven #4)(2)
Guiding her cursor to her work files, she opened the one labeled Research and double-clicked the file at the top.
The image she’d saved from an online Dallas news article a few months ago filled her screen. Seven men, all vastly different in appearance yet obviously comfortable in each other’s presence, faced the camera with open smiles. Most were standing, some with a casual arm thrown around another and others lifting their drinks in salute, but two of the men leaned against gleaming motorcycles. One had dark hair down to his shoulders and a wicked gleam in his eyes. The other was Knox.
With his butt perched on the edge of his seat and his ankles crossed, he smirked at the camera as if he had a naughty secret he was just dying to tell. Where the rest of the men favored either extremely short hair or styles long enough to buck convention, Knox’s was somewhere in the middle and cut in a way that made him look like he’d just surfaced from a good tussle in bed. His jeans were worn enough she’d bet they felt as soft as spun cotton, and his green T-shirt with faded white lettering molded his lean but sculpted torso. A tattoo peeked from the edge of one shirtsleeve and another marked his bared forearm. No matter how many times she’d tried to zoom in on the graphic, she’d yet to make out the details, but it definitely had a tribal flare. Edgy to match the thick leather cuffs and bracelets he wore on each wrist. According to Jason, he was the ultimate geek and hacker all rolled up into one, but on the outside he looked like a rock star.
She flipped to the next picture, one pilfered from a technical review article shortly after he’d released his successful Lystilizer app. It was less candid. More professional than the one with his friends and lacking his genuine smile, but accented his gray eyes.
The next picture was her favorite. Used for a story about his aiding the government after giving up his blackhat ways, they’d ironically used a mugshot taken when he was eighteen. Even then he’d been attractive, aiming his smug grin at the camera and demonstrating not the least bit of remorse for whatever he’d been caught doing. Honestly, she wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d been flipping the bird at whoever took the picture.
Knox was smart. Brilliant. Even if Jason hadn’t told her so over and over for the last many months, anyone would glean the same impression with one look at him. Challenge and charisma poured out of every image.
Sighing, she closed the pictures and all the background applications. Her infatuation was stupid. Of all the people for her to turn borderline stalker on, she had to pick a top-notch hacker. Not a great idea for an average girl. A horrid idea for a woman desperate to dodge any kind of unnecessary attention. But Knox was the best. A man who’d built an amazing life for himself from almost nothing and had a history for taking talented people under his wing.
Reality was reality, though. If he didn’t respond in the next few days, he probably had no intention of doing so, and the last thing she’d do was beg. She might not have the natural ability he possessed, but what she lacked in innate skill, she more than made up for in tenacity. Otherwise, she’d still be in Russia and a kept toy for a tyrant.
She logged out of her computer, stowed her empty coffee mug in the dishwasher and tidied up her desk.
JJ’s laughter-rich voice moved through her thoughts. Relax, Darya. The world’s not going to crash in on you if you don’t keep things lined up just so.
Hitching her purse on her shoulder, Darya paused beside her desk. Her coaster sat perfectly aligned with the top of her wireless keyboard, and her paper clip holder, stapler and Post-its were all neatly lined up beneath her monitor.
She pushed the Post-its out of their orderly formation, leaving the neon yellow stack cockeyed, and grinned. So what if Knox hadn’t contacted her. Today wasn’t about strategy or planning for worst-case scenarios. It was about living and giving. Enough for her and for JJ.
Chapter Two
Open air, speed and good music. Normally, Knox could count on the combination to unravel even the worst mood or problem, but today they weren’t working. The fact that he’d just racked up a solid ten hours’ sleep after a two week stretch of cat naps at best should have had him at top speed. Instead, guilt squatted on his shoulders with all the pleasantry of the grim reaper. Hell, the dark and gloomy fucker might as well just put that scythe of his to work and gut him while he was at it. God knows, he’d just done the same thing to a sweet girl who’d done nothing but help him be a somewhat normally functioning human for the last six months.
He whipped his souped-up Audi Roadster off Highway 75 and onto the service road, the top down and the wind hitting him on all sides. Marcy Playground’s “Sex and Candy” pulsed through the car’s interior and drowned out the mid-morning Monday traffic. What he needed to do was pull his head out of his ass and do it pronto. The last thing he needed while sweeping a target’s home was a muddled head and he needed intel on one JJ Simpson pronto.
A block away from JJ’s apartment building, Beckett’s nondescript white Chevy sedan sat curbside. All five cars they used for tailing people were the same, just in varied colors, though this one was in serious need of a wash. It also was a long damned way from Beck’s preferred mode of transportation—a refurbished 1970 candy apple convertible Corvette.
Knox slid his electric blue ride in behind Beckett. Across the parking lot, JJ’s apartment on the second floor was barely visible. The tan paint job did a decent job of covering up the apartment’s age and the thick hedges lining the buildings gave the place a little color, but overall the look was mighty sterile.