Lib Novel Page 22
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“This is a mess,” I mumble, staring at the laptop screen. Getting rid of the code I changed took less than ten minutes, but the catastrophe of missing strings and wrong commands I’m looking at can’t be the result of that. “It didn’t look like this the last time I visited your network.”
“Visited? Nice euphemism for breaking the law by hacking into an unauthorized system, Miss Petrova. My company isn’t a gallery exhibit.”
I look beyond the screen, my eyes focusing on his imposing frame leaning back in the recliner on the far side of the room. Other than the small desk lamp beside me, every light in the office is off. The faint glow that does reach him allows me to see that he’s in a three-piece suit again, but little of anything else.
“Says the guy who kidnaps women off the street,” I comment, then go back to inspecting the code.
Rafael was already lounging on that chair when I came in carrying the laptop. In his gruff voice, he told me to take a seat at the desk and get started. Since then, he’s remained nothing more than a dark shape. Silent, for the most part.
Is he brooding?
Planning my demise? Watching me?
What is he hiding?
“Do you have rabies, Rafael?”
“I don’t believe so. Why do you ask?”
“You sure?” I glance at him again. “No fever, muscle spasms, hallucinations?” I briefly pause to give him time to respond, but he remains mute. “Because you seem to be experiencing sensitivity to light. Should I be concerned that you might pounce? Try to bite me?”
A deep laugh thunders from the shadows, rich and velvety, filling the space. My fingers hover above the keyboard as that sound swaddles me, like a thick, warm blanket.
“If I start experiencing those symptoms, I’ll let you know.”
Ugh. Not only does he wear suits and smell amazing, but he can also take a joke at his expense. It’s as if the universe got a hold of my “perfect man” checklist and started ticking off all the boxes. Too bad Rafael is a kidnapping, blackmailing bastard.
Still, I’m curious to know what he looks like.
“I’ll do what I can from here, but I’ll need to check your main server at some point. Is it in the house?”
“It’s at my corporate building, in Taormina.”
“I’ll need access to it.” My eyes dart to him over the laptop’s edge. “And I’ll need clothes. Your cleaning staff seem to have taken away my things. I want them back.”
“Yet, you appear to be handling that situation rather well. That’s my favorite shirt, by the way.” How he says it, with a hint of amusement in his tone, makes me wonder if there isn’t some hidden meaning behind his words.
“Is this some twisted payback? Weird psychological torture to make me feel more powerless or something?”
“Maybe. Or maybe I just enjoy the sight of you in my clothes, Miss Petrova.”
I swallow, brushing off the silly excitement that swells within me from the husky, deep timbre of his voice. Like a lover seducing his partner into bed, each syllable strokes my skin, promising naughty carnal things.
“I will not go around wearing your tent-size shirts. Also, I need underwear, mister.”
“That can be arranged,” Rafael says and leans forward, placing his forearms on his knees. Suddenly, it’s twenty degrees hotter in here. I can feel his eyes on me, searing me from the darkness.
Taking a deep breath, I push up the sleeves of the borrowed shirt that keep slipping down my arms. Pulling up the diagnostic software, I set it to run a scan of the system, then grab a pencil from the desk drawer and start chewing on it.
“Why did you reorganize my bookshelves?”
“It’s therapeutic,” I mumble around the good old HB2 in my mouth while warnings pop up on the screen. The invoicing application in the accounting directory is flagged as non-responsive. The data storage system has a warning about updates not being installed. Even the maintenance system shows errors.
“This is not possible,” I murmur, gaping at the list that keeps growing. “My code was only designed to create a back door, not to fuck up the rest of the network.”
“Maybe someone else stumbled upon your ‘back door’ and decided to sabotage my company. My competition, most likely.”