LITMIR.BIZ

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the dense information.

      Her computer dinged like the final-round bell in a prize fight, signaling it was time for the meeting. She stood and smoothed her skirt, the tablet in hand and her stilettos sinking into the plush carpet as she crossed to the door.

      Time to face the music.

      Even if she had no freaking idea who was playing the tune.

      * * *

      Do what we do best.

      Kensington’s words still echoed in his ear as Campbell took a seat in the large auditorium that would house Abigail McBane’s press conference. Despite his protests to his sister, he’d arrived early and taken a seat near the front, his long legs stretched out in front of him as he took in the room.

      The turnout was considerable, a mix of press and Wall Street analyst types all anxious to hear the next big thing in communications technology.

      While he’d moderately enjoyed baiting Kenzi, he’d done his homework, just as he did for every job they took on. McBane Communications was a global leader in satellite and communications technology. The daughter of the founder, Abigail McBane was reported to be cool under pressure and a highly competent executive.

      Which meant she must be seriously running scared if she’d go outside her own security team—individuals who’d been vetted and background-checked—to come to Kensington for help.

      A light hush fell over the room as Abby and her team crossed the stage to the podium. He mentally catalogued the line of executives that walked with her—men and women clad in highly conservative business attire—before taking in the woman everyone had come to see.

      Abigail McBane.

      That same fall of dark hair he’d noticed while in Kensington’s office looked even lusher in person and high cheekbones framed her face with distinction. The V of her jacket revealed a smooth neckline displaying a simple strand of pearls. She was elegant and efficient, beautiful and businesslike.

      And when she took a spot behind the podium, Campbell briefly registered a moment of sadness that the spectacular legs on display under the severe cut of her skirt were now hidden.

      Just as well, he admonished himself. Between his unexpected resentment over the job and the quick lick of attraction that rode the back of his neck, he needed to get his head in the game.

      He glanced down at the slim tablet on his lap, flipping through a few screens of data that matched the opening of Abby’s speech. When he’d checked in, the corporate drone who’d greeted him had offered a folder of data or a secure site to download the presentation. Intrigued at the depth of preparation, he’d taken the electronic version and used the download code as his entrée into the McBane portal to do some nosing around.

      Pleased when several layers of security prevented him from digging further, he admitted their surface protocol was as impressive as he’d expected.

      “Which is why our new series of satellites, scheduled to enter orbit in the next quarter, will enable the next layer of consumer technology.” Campbell allowed his attention to drift back toward the stage. Abby deftly moved the presentation through several slides, addressing the room with a presence that was as impressive as it was sharp.

      He watched heads nod around him and caught the heated excitement of two people next to him as Abby wrapped up the presentation with the implications for the telecommunications industry. Hands flew up and questions buzzed from the floor as she moved into Q and A.

      Again, he marveled at her smooth answers as question after question flew her way. From her impressions on the implications to wireless providers to an explanation of how each satellite would orbit Earth, there was nothing she couldn’t answer. No topic she couldn’t speak to with ease.

      It was hot as hell, this incredible package of brains and beauty. Campbell felt his attention narrowing on the woman at the podium until a question from the back of the room pulled him from his thoughts.

      “Ms. McBane. There are rumors you had a recent security breach of your satellites. Could you explain what that was about?”

      The flash of anger in her eyes was brief—he’d have missed it if he weren’t watching her so closely—but it was there all the same. “We have regular maintenance on all of our systems on a daily basis. It’s routine to manage and repair any and all attempted breaches on our security, as anyone in our industry is well aware of. Hackers don’t sleep.”

      “Yes, but there’s a difference between offense and defense. Did you not recently deal defensively with a security breach of McBane Communications?”

      Campbell turned in his seat to the smug reporter in the back of the room asking the question. Whispers and murmurs echoed through the room at the man’s persistence.

      “We have reviewed all of our existing security protocols and found no breaches into or out of our systems.”

      Campbell knew the response was technically true—the mysterious seven minutes hadn’t yet been tied to any formal breach, per Kenzi’s intel—but the damage had already been done. Hands were up and people were clamoring with questions, but she drew the presentation to a close.

      “Your packets contain all of today’s meeting materials. Thank you for joining us.” Abby left the stage in reverse order of her arrival, the various members of her team following in single file.

      Campbell didn’t miss the hard set of her shoulders or the steady clip of her heels as she walked out of sight.

      * * *

      “Damn, damn, damn.” Abby dropped her head in her hands as she stared at her laptop screen. Her head of PR had already emailed her with the name of the reporter who’d asked the question about McBane security, confirming what she already knew.

      Dan Porterfield was a nuisance, but he was damn good at his job.

      So who the hell had told him about the seven minutes? The information was on lockdown until they could figure out what had happened and the few members of her team who did know held positions of trust in her organization.

      Could the one responsible have leaked the information?

      And what the hell was she really dealing with?

      Her phone rang and she snatched it up as her admin’s name registered on the display. “Your three o’clock is here to see you. A Mr. Campbell Steele?”

      Kensington’s brother.

      “Thanks, Stef. You can send him in.”

      With one last look at her computer screen, Abby tapped out a brief set of instructions that the party line to Dan or anyone else who asked was the same. There was no breach and there were no problems with their firewalls. “McBane Communications maintains the highest standards and layers of industry-leading technology,” she muttered to herself as she finished typing the email.

      Even if the sentiment didn’t sit all that well with her—she was worried enough to call in an outside firm—they technically hadn’t found anything newsworthy.

      The door opened and Stef gestured the man through, before closing the door with a light click. Abby crossed the office toward him and took in a sharper-than-normal intake of breath as she stared up into a pair of blazing blue eyes.

      “Mr. Steele?”

      A smile that was too sweet to be fully cocky lit up the hard planes of his jaw. He extended a hand and she caught the briefest glimpse of long fingers and a broad palm before his hand clasped hers. “Campbell. Please.”

      Heat lit up her nerve endings, the sensation completely at odds with the purpose of his visit. She’d seen photos of him before, but nothing two-dimensional could have prepared her for this reaction. “Abby McBane. It’s so good of you to come. Would you like anything? Coffee? Water?”

      “Water’s fine.”

      She retrieved a bottle for each of them before gesturing

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