The Wrong Kind of Compatible Page 3

  Cassie processed that, and her mistrustful mind decided the reason made total sense. “I see. Well, let’s go get started, James Bond.”

  They walked back to their desks together. A silence which she found surprisingly comfortable settled between them. Odd. Silence usually made her jumpy. Reaching their area, she turned left into her cube and expected him to turn right into his, only he didn’t. He followed her into the tiny area.

  Cassie turned, bumped into his chest, then backed up, needing a buffer of personal space. Again. “What are you doing?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Shadowing you. Like Kevin said.”

  She planted a hand in the middle of his chest and pushed. Man, he smelled yummy. Like freshly starched laundry mixed with a spicy aftershave that suited him. “I’m pretty sure he meant my work, not to physically attach yourself to me like a barnacle.”

  He didn’t budge. Instead, Drew glanced down at her hand, still on his chest, then back up to regard her for a long beat, during which she held her breath for some inexplicable reason. The way he studied her, like he was trying to figure out her deepest secrets, gave her the strangest rush. So did the feel of his heart under her palm. She tried to ignore how the physical contact made parts of her flutter in anticipation.

  Before she could do something stupid, like trail her fingers up and down his chest, he finally obliged. He spun on his heel and left her standing there with her mouth open, doing her best guppy impersonation.

  She hadn’t meant he had to leave. Geez.

  Cassie blew out a long breath, then sucked it back in as he returned, rolling his chair behind him. “Let’s get to work,” he said.

  Right. Work. Computers. Analysis. Not hot, sweaty sex on her desktop. Hot tamales, where had that mental image bombarded her from? Mental note. No more touching Drew.

  Cassie looked up at the ceiling, doing her level best to return to the sane, rational woman she usually was. “Actually, grab your laptop. You’ll want to take notes, and possibly work through a few things on your own.”

  “Will I need my dongle?”

  She froze in the middle of taking her seat and checked his expression. Had he meant the double entendre, or was her dirty mind taking her there on its own?

  “That’s…up to you,” she said slowly. Then bit her lip as the possible implications of her response sank in.

  Drew ducked his head, but she still caught his wince as he left. So he hadn’t meant to toss that term out there, either. She held back a chuckle as she made some space for him. By the time he returned, she was seated and logging in to her own computer.

  “What’s that?” he asked as he pulled his chair up close to hers.

  She quickly minimized the window showing on her screen—code she was in the middle of working on. “A new project. Something you don’t need to see yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “Who’s the teacher here? And who’s the student?”

  He blinked at her and stared. After a long pause—one she spent squirming in her seat, dang it—he shrugged and sat. She got the distinct impression he’d had to talk himself into sitting. Why? Please don’t let him be another one of those men who can’t deal with learning anything computer related from a woman. She’d had run-ins with that sort before.

  “I place myself in your capable hands.”

  Cassie groaned inwardly. If she was going to spend this entire week fielding quips loaded with sexual innuendo with this guy, she’d either crack a rib laughing, get herself fired for inappropriate responses, or jump the man. None of those outcomes appealed.

  Correction. Jumping him appealed. Her tightening nipples were in total agreement.

  But not when he threatened her job. Make no mistake, Cassie Howard, the man is a threat. She’d had men claim her work for their own before, and no way was she letting that happen again. Ever.

  “However…” Drew said, interrupting her thoughts.

  I really need to stop having long conversations with myself around him.

  “I think if you try a native query here…” He leaned forward and placed his hand over hers on the mouse.

  Again, with the touching. Cassie tried to ignore the warmth of his hand over hers, or how his breath feathered provocatively across her neck.

  With a flick of his wrist and a click, he pulled up the window she’d minimized. “…you’ll find you can bypass the Entity Manager.”

  Irritation flashed. Nothing was wrong with her code. At the same time, the computer in her head finally came back online as she absorbed his suggestion. Cassie sat forward, examining the lines of text in terms of how it fit into what she was trying to do. Hmm. He had a point. “Maybe, but then I lose atomicity, which I need for the transaction.”

  She glanced at his face, so close to hers, to find him laser focused on her screen. And yes, she did notice the dark blue of his eyes, and the stubble gracing his jaw, but mostly she watched as he thought through the problem. She doubted he was even aware he was still touching her.

  He was cute when he concentrated.

  “I’ll have to think more about this.”

  Cassie gritted her teeth. He would have to think more about it? Forget cute, the man was annoying as all get out. Even if he was rocking a brain she could envy. “I’ll think about it.”

  He turned his head, probably to assess her expression. “If you need any help—”

  “I don’t.”

  Her irritated tone must’ve finally penetrated because he leaned back, taking the warmth of his hand with him. His gaze roved over her face, flushed if the warmth in her cheeks was any indication, and dropped lower.

  Cassie tried to wrangle her uneven breathing under control.

  That deep blue gaze returned to hers, only now a heat lingered in the depths of his eyes. Her brain overheated. She needed to do something—anything—to put a halt to…whatever this was. “I got this government project because I earned it. It’s mine.”

  He blinked slowly. “What?”

  She tipped her head at the code on her screen. “Kevin said you’ll start working on it next week. Until then, it’s mine.”

  The heat in his gaze disappeared, as though he’d mentally taken a step back.

  Get your head screwed on right, Cassandra Howard. Clearing her throat, she minimized the screen again, and pulled up the team Wiki with the architecture diagrams. In her comfort zone, Cassie settled in, the flutters in her stomach calming and her breathing evening out, as she walked him through the Data Minds technology stack.

  “You love this stuff, don’t you?”

  She turned to find his intense gaze on her, again, and her train of thought hopped the tracks. Ack. She managed to shake herself out of her reverie. “Of course I—”

  Her cell phone chose that opportune instant to vibrate on her desk. She glanced at the screen, and frowned. Her mother never called her during working hours. “I should get this.”

  She thought he’d get up and give her some privacy, but nope. Instead, he settled back, sticking his feet out in front of him, crossed at the ankles.

  Make yourself comfortable. Cassie frowned and picked up the phone. “Hi, Mom. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. Why would you assume that?”

  Cassie took a deep breath. Talking with her mother was a habitually frustrating exercise in futility. “Because you usually don’t call me at work.”

  “Well, when you don’t return my phone calls…” Her mother left the accusation dangling over the line.

  Bait. Cassie refused to bite. “Did you need something? Or can I call you back later? I’m in the middle of a meeting.”

  Sorry, she mouthed to Drew, who stared back. She resisted the urge to shift in her chair.

  “I want to know if we’ll see you this weekend for Charlie’s ceremony?”

  Shoot. That was this weekend, wasn’t it? “I’m not sure. It’ll depend on—”

  “Charlie will be so disappointed if you’re not there.” Her mother’s tone implied
she and her father would be disappointed in her as well. Susan Howard was an eminent psychologist and college professor, which leant to her true calling as a master manipulator.

  Cassie refused to be guilted into a hasty decision. “Charlie won’t care.”

  “Of course he’ll care. So are you coming?”

  “We’ll see.”

  Her mother sighed, a familiar sound that had Cassie lifting her gaze to the ceiling as if patience might rain down on her like manna from heaven. It didn’t.

  “When will you see?” her mother asked.

  “I’ll call you tonight. All right?”

  “That’s fine.”

  Cassie didn’t trust the pleased, even slightly triumphant tone to her mother’s voice. She waited for whatever came next.

  “Why don’t you take the train? Dad and I will pick you up. You can call and let me know the time and station tonight.”

  Which meant her attendance was a foregone conclusion, at least in her mother’s mind.

  …

  Drew studied Cassie as she talked on the phone with her mom, trying to make sense of the woman sitting in front of him now versus the woman he suspected her to be.

  He’d tested the waters with his “personal spy” comment, to make sure his first day on the op hadn’t aroused any suspicions. But she’d reacted first with a searching look and then amusement. However, her “it’s mine” comment had every alarm in his head blaring. Why didn’t she want him to see her work?

  At the same time, Cassie didn’t look like a criminal. Take today’s outfit, which had made him chuckle earlier—comfy jeans paired with a T-shirt that sported a quote from Shakespeare. I’d challenge you to a battle of wits, but I see you are unarmed. An attitude he’d come to realize they shared. She was used to outthinking every person around her, and so was he.

  Which made this op…challenging.

  Her hair was piled on her head, held in place by several pencils, like yesterday. This morning she made it into the office with the long, silky tresses down. When he saw her, Drew choked on his coffee. He’d had an immediate—wholly inappropriate and frustrating—image of that gorgeous, pale hair spread out over his pillow, or across his bare chest. He’d even worried for a millisecond that undercover work was not for him, given these unguarded responses to the woman he was investigating. But logic had taken over and he’d moved on.

  Either way, his signals were getting crossed somewhere. All evidence pointed to Cassie being exactly who he thought, regardless off her funny T-shirt or fantasy-inducing hair.

  “Who’s Charlie?” Drew asked, then immediately cringed. Way to sound like a stalker, asshole.

  A charming little frown puckered her brows as she placed the phone back on her desk. “You know most people wouldn’t admit to eavesdropping.”

  Most people also wouldn’t have spent the past five minutes cataloging everything about her, from her clothes to her hair to her attitude, either. Drew tried a grin. The book said to smile. “Hard not to when I’m sitting right here.”

  She didn’t smile back or snap off some quirky comment, thankfully. Just whirled back around in her chair and busied herself putting her phone away. The woman already had him fighting a smile way too much for comfort. His dongle comment had been a genuine slip of the tongue, but her expression had been priceless, had made him want to see what it took to pull a laugh out into the open. However, her comment about it being “up” to him had been too close to his actual physical condition, so he’d left before he’d gone to an even more inappropriate place with her.

  But then he’d caught sight of her code—stuff he hadn’t seen yet in his hacking sessions at night—and had dragged himself back to the mission. In the brief conversation that followed, he’d also gotten an idea of how fast her mind worked. Most analysts would’ve had to study the code longer to see how his suggestion might affect it, but she’d mentally applied the suggestion in a blink.

  Damn she was smart. And damned if he didn’t find that a total turn-on.

  Plus, she’d been so cute—all flustered both by his touching her hand, and by being irritated with his suggestions. He wouldn’t mind touching her again.

  Abort. Touching is off-limits.

  Actually, scratch that abort. Getting her flustered might be an angle he could use. Was it possible that when she got flustered she blurted out her thoughts even more? It might be a theory worth testing.

  She set her purse down and blinked at him, her glasses slipping down her nose while her eyes focused on his mouth in a way that had certain already stimulated parts of his anatomy standing to attention. Shit. If he was going to deliberately attempt to fluster her, he needed to get his brain out of his pants, on the double.

  It had to be the books he’d been flipping through last night. That one about seducing her into his bed had put inappropriate thoughts into his head. Keep your mind on the op, Kerrigan.

  “Is Charlie a friend?” he asked. Good. Distraction. He’d be checking out that code later, and he needed her to forget all his helpful comments earlier.

  Cassie gave her head a shake, whether in answer to his question or to clear her head was difficult to tell. “No. He’s my brother. They’re making him a Senior Fellow in Physics this weekend.”

  “That’s quite an honor. Is he older?”

  Drew knew about her family, of course. They’d come up during his background investigation. She came from an impressive family, which explained her own smarts and success. He couldn’t say that, though, so he’d ask the questions to answers he already knew. Sharing some personal details would help move their relationship where he needed it. Another tip from his book.

  She nodded absently. “By ten years.”

  “Is he the oldest?”

  “Yes.”

  “Just the one brother?”

  “No.”

  Drew struggled to word his next question in a way that wouldn’t lead to a yes/no answer. For someone who usually couldn’t shut up, she sure was being closemouthed about her family. Why?

  “How many siblings do you have?”

  “There are five of us.”

  “Any sisters?”

  Cassie cocked her head, and, yet again, the bug-under-a-microscope effect he’d experienced yesterday with her made itself felt again. “Do you conduct all of your discussions like this?” she asked.

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know.” She waved a hand as she searched for the word. “Like an interrogation? I feel like a suspect in a bad spy movie.”

  Proximity warnings flashed red lights in his head, but he ignored them. Her comment was off the cuff, not accusation.

  Instead he focused on his technique. He was coming across like a date from hell. Next, he’d be asking if she wanted kids and how she felt about living in the suburbs. Still, the fact that she didn’t want to tell him made him want to know. He crossed his arms. “Avoiding the question?”

  She rolled her eyes. “No.”

  “I think you are.”

  “I mean no sisters. Just brothers.”

  Oh.

  She smirked. “Four of them. All older. Charlie, the physicist. Caleb, the brain surgeon. Chris the aerospace engineer. And Connor, the heart surgeon.”

  Interesting that she identified them all by their occupations. Was there a family rivalry there? Or perhaps a push from the parents to excel? “Impressive.”

  “You’re telling me,” she muttered. Rivalry, he decided. Did she feel inadequate beside her siblings? She shouldn’t.

  She adopted the prim expression that, after only two days in her presence, he was already starting to recognize as subject closed. “Now, if the cross-examination is over, may we continue?”

  Drew made a mental note that Cassie was sensitive about her family. Clearly not the topic to pursue if he wanted to get closer. One of the suggestions in his book about communicating involved sharing similar personal anecdotes. Worth a try.

  “I’m an only child.”

  Cassi
e raised her eyebrows, probably at his abrupt sharing, but she also scooted around in her chair to face him better. An excellent sign of interest. “Oh?”

  “Yeah. My mother raised me after she and my dad divorced. She owns a little flower shop in a small town upstate.”

  “A flower shop?” She cocked her head. “I can’t see you with a flower-shop mom. You seem more like…” She pursed those full lips as she considered the options, and he had to shift in his seat to ease a sudden tightening in his groin.

  “Like what?” He found he was curious about what she would say.

  Cassie laughed. “I don’t know. A flower shop screams homey, and chatty, and emotion-centered, and that’s not exactly you, is it?”

  Why did her assessment sting just the tiniest bit? Dumb when it was true. “No. I guess not.”

  “Did you help out in her shop?”

  Why did I bring this up again? Drew rubbed the back of his head. Looking away, he shrugged. “Mostly lifting heavy bags or pots and stuff. My mom says I have a black thumb when it comes to plants, and zero eye for arranging.”

  Cassie laughed again, her dimples flashing, and the shadows that had darkened her eyes during the conversation with her mother disappeared completely. “I’d love to see you trying to arrange flowers.”

  “Not gonna happen.” He waved at her screen. “So…back to work?”

  She chuckled.

  He’d cheered her up and made her laugh. Drew didn’t want to examine the satisfaction that gave him too closely, so he shoved it aside, instead focusing on the fact that she’d loosened up with him, even if only for a minute.

  Progress.

  Now if he could get her talking about how Data Minds won that contract…

  No, first he needed to build on today’s success and win her trust. In the meantime, he’d continue spending his nights and weekends scouring the company’s systems and adding some secret code of his own.

  Chapter Four

  Cassie sat in one of the many rows of chairs in the stuffy, wood-paneled room in some random campus building where her brother worked. Of course her mother had managed to guilt-trip her into coming to Charlie’s ceremony. Not that Cassie didn’t want to support him—she was proud of all her brothers. However, an entire weekend of being nitpicked thanks to her never-satisfied mother’s astronomical expectations did not qualify as a “good time” in her books.