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An Innocent To Tame The Italian. Tara Pammi
Читать онлайн.Название An Innocent To Tame The Italian
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474087964
Автор произведения Tara Pammi
Серия Mills & Boon Modern
Издательство HarperCollins
Her reply shone up at him.
Gollum: Not tonight, thank you. My time’s up. Maybe next time.
The message flashed on his screen and a smile curved his mouth, a flare of excitement running through his veins.
So polite, he’d thought during his chats with her. A certain softness buried even in the software jargon in contrast to the ruthlessness with which she’d attacked his firewalls.
It was her.
She was the hacker he’d been chasing, the hacker who it seemed was truly Massimo’s match.
In the few seconds it took him to accept this new discovery, and course-correct his strategy for her, she’d reached her car.
His long legs ate up the distance. The tightening of her shoulders made him stay a few steps from her. He didn’t want to scare her. Not yet.
“Why Gollum?” he said, keeping his tone soft, even as anger and excitement roped through him. “Why not Aragorn, or Gandalf the Wizard?”
She turned. Her eyes ate him up, her breath coming in short, shallow spurts that had nothing to do with the cold. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
When she made to pull the driver’s door to her beaten down Beetle, he crowded her. Still not touching.
The subtle scent of lavender filled his breath, a jarring thread of softness that made him breathe hard. He lifted his phone, the screen showing the chat boards. “I know who you are. I have proof of what you did to Brunetti Cyber Securities. Every last bit.”
The smile faded from his face just as the innocence dropped from hers.
The pointed chin lifted up, the expression in her eyes clear and sharp. “What do you want?”
He let the full power of his fury settle into his words. “Your purse, please.”
She looked at the sea of white snow around them.
“There’s nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. I recommend doing as I ask.”
Slowly, she pulled a wallet out of her back pocket and handed it over.
“Natalie Crosetto,” he said loudly. The name reverberated in the silence, and he breathed a sigh. “You’ve led me on a merry chase all over the internet, Ms. Crosetto, and now, I will run this game. We will go back to my hotel and you’ll explain to me why you’ve been attacking my systems.”
“No!” She took a deep breath. “You’re a stranger. You can’t expect me to let you just...kidnap me!”
“What do you suggest, then?”
“My home. Please. Tomorrow morning.”
“I didn’t take a trip over the Atlantic to let you escape me once I found you. We’ll go to your home if that offers you a modicum of security. You’re free to keep your cell phone and dial the police if you feel a threat to your person at any point, even.
“But you’ll answer each and every one of my questions and you will do so tonight.”
That stubborn chin raised even as her mouth quivered. Scared, and yet she challenged him. “Or else what?”
“Or else you’ll be behind bars tonight. I will even let you call the cops yourself. And you’ll stay there for the next decade, if I have anything to say about it.”
NATALIE CROSETTO STARED at the man lounging on her couch—a soft but old piece she’d picked up at thrift store last month—as if he were a king sitting on his golden throne, surveying a subject brought up for judgment.
Her.
Sweat gathered on her upper lip and the nape of her neck. The tremors that had taken over her body wouldn’t abate.
Jail. He could send her to jail...which meant any chance of her getting custody of Frankie would go up in flames. Christ, why the hell had she let Vincenzo talk her into this? What would happen to her brother if she ended up in jail? No, God, no...
“Head down between your knees. And deep breaths, Ms. Crosetto.” He stood to give her room to sit.
She automatically followed the commanding voice and bent her torso down. The blackness taking over her vision faded, breath rushing into her lungs with the force of a storm. In, out. In, out.
Panic receded, bringing rational thought in its wake.
She couldn’t count on Vincenzo coming to her rescue. Not when she didn’t know how to contact him beyond a number she could text. Not when she didn’t know what the stranger would do with that information.
She had no one to count on but herself. As always.
Still keeping her head down, she went over the jumble of thoughts in her head, unraveling each one.
She’d covered her tracks very well, the first time. This man...he’d have never tracked her by that. But then, she’d tunneled through the firewalls a second time. Albeit with utter reluctance at Vincenzo’s behest. That had been her mistake.
Still, the man on the other end had to be a genius to have tracked her. With unlimited resources. And not just online but all the way here. To show up right outside the cyber club, to taunt her with that text, to trap her so neatly...
She looked up and panic threatened to overwhelm her again.
A stranger in her apartment.
Her sanctuary. Her only safe place from the cruel world outside. She had never even invited Vincenzo here.
God, what a mess.
She pushed a hand through her hair and tugged at it. Her scalp tingled, the pain dispersing the remnants of panic. She’d survived worse situations. She’d find a way out of this, too.
First, she needed to protect herself from him. Needed to get him out of her home.
From the trench coat he’d discarded to the crisp black suit, the cuff links at his wrists, which she’d guess to be platinum, all the way to the handmade black leather shoes he was tapping on her cheap linoleum floor—he was expensively dressed. She might not know all of Vincenzo’s background but he had expensive tastes.
This man was no different.
Even his jet-black haircut, carefully piled artistically at the top of his head, looked expensive, catering to the high cheekbones and forehead, sharpening those features even more. He was no mere IT officer or a hound sent to track her down.
Even if she could get away from him, he or his higher-ups would come after her. Again. Neither could she be a fugitive for the rest of her life. And yet...the need to take control of the situation was overwhelming.
Keeping her eyes on his lean frame lounging against the opposite wall, Nat pushed herself to her feet. Shuffling her feet, she slowly reached for the baseball bat she kept next to the bookshelf. One of the numerous things she’d been collecting to make the tiny apartment a home for Frankie.
The wood felt solid in her hand as she lifted it.
“Drop it, Ms. Crosetto,” he said in a mildly bored tone.
She couldn’t. Not for the life of her.
For a man who topped a couple of inches over six feet, he moved with a grace and economy she couldn’t believe. In two seconds, his lean frame was crowding her. A gasp fell from her mouth when his fingers wrapped around her wrist, forcing her to drop the bat. The thunk of it hitting the floor reverberated in the small space. With a firm grip, he pushed her arm behind