An Inconvenient Affair (The Alpha Brotherhood #1)(16)
Author: Catherine Mann

“I’ve wired my laptop into the wide-screen TV so we don’t have to hunch over a computer. The images will be larger, nuances easier to catch.” He’d also run the pixilation through a new converter he’d been developing for use with military satellites.

“That looks high-tech, but it makes sense you would have the best toys.”

Toys? He wasn’t dealing in Little Tikes, but then he wasn’t into bragging, either. He didn’t need to.

His “toys” spoke for themselves. “You might want to reconsider the food. This will take a while. It’s not like watching footage of the night once and we’re done. There are different camera angles, inside and outside. We’ll be reliving the night five or six times from different bird’s-eye views.”

“Are we on there?” She gripped the back of the chaise.

“We will be. Yes.” Would she see how damn much she affected him? Good thing he was in control of what played across that screen.

“What about out on the balcony? The kiss? Is that one on camera for anyone to see?”

“I’m also fairly good at dodging security cameras when I choose.” He glanced at her, took in every sleek line of her long legs as she walked to the room-service cart. “I can assure you. That moment was private.”

Her footsteps faltered for a heartbeat. “Thank you for that much, at least.”

“You’re welcome.” He grinned and couldn’t resist adding, “Although, there’s still the film of us dancing so close it’s almost like we’re—”

“I get the picture. Turn on the TV.” She poured a cup of coffee from the silver carafe, cradled the china in her hands and curled up on a vintage chaise.

He sat on the sofa, in front of his laptop. He split the TV screen into four views. “We can save time using the multiple views on some of the sparser scenes, then go back to single screen for the more populated cuts.”

“Why is it that so few people have seen this guy?” She blew into her coffee.

“It’s not that so few have seen him. It’s that they’re all afraid to talk.” He fast-forwarded through four squares of empty halls, empty rooms. “You should be afraid, as well.”

“Why aren’t you?”

“I’m afraid for you. Does that count?”

He slowed the feed of cleaning and waitstaff setting up. Caterers. Florists. Just because their informant said the guy would be at the party didn’t mean he couldn’t be using a cover of his own. Troy clicked to zoom in on a face with the enhanced pixilation software that could even read the bar code still stuck to the bottom of a box of candles.

Glancing left, he checked for a reaction from Hillary, but nothing showed in her expression except pleasure over the sip of coffee. He took in the bliss in her eyes over a simple taste of java. What he wouldn’t give to bring that look to her face. He turned back to the TV mounted over the fireplace.

Even keeping his attention on the screen and computer, he was still hyperaware of Hillary sitting an arm’s reach away. Every shift on the chaise, every time she lifted the mug of coffee to her lips, he was in tune to it all.

The air conditioners kicked on silently, swirling the air around, mixing the smell of java with her fresh mint scent. Was it her shampoo or some kind of perfume? He could picture her in a bubbling bath with mint leaves floating around her….

“Troy?”

Her husky voice broke into his thoughts.

He froze the image on the screen. “Do you see something?”

“No, nothing. Keep running the feed.” She set aside her china cup and saucer with a clink. “I’m just wondering… How did you meet up with Colonel Salvatore? And please, for once, be honest the first time I ask a question.”

She wanted to talk while they watched and worked? He was cool with that. He could share things that were public knowledge. “The colonel was the headmaster at the military boarding school I was sent to as a teenager. He’s since retired to…other work.”

“You still stay in touch with him?”

“I do.” As did a few other select alumni. “Let’s just say I’m obligated to him for the life I lead now, and he’s calling in a favor.”

She slid from the chaise and walked to the room-service cart. She rolled it closer to him and poured two cups.

A peace offering?

She set down a cup and saucer beside his computer. “What was your high school like?”

“Imprisoning.” He didn’t bother telling her about his no-liquids-around-computers rule, especially when the computer was equipped with experimental software worth a disgustingly large amount of money. Instead, he lifted the cup and drained half in one too-hot gulp.

“I meant, what was school like, what was your life like before you were sent to reform school?”

“Boring.” He drank the rest of the coffee and set aside the empty china.

“Is that why you broke into the DOD’s computer system?” She sat beside him, her drink on her knee. “Because you were bored?”

“That would make me a rather shallow person.”

“Are you?”

“What do you think?”

On the screen, the auction area began to fill. He manipulated the focus to capture images of people with their backs to the cameras, reflections in mirrors, glass and even a crystal punch bowl.

She leaned forward, her slim leg alongside his. “I believe you’re probably a genius and a regular academic environment may not have been the right place for you.”

“My parents sent me to the best private schools—” again and again, to get kicked out over and over “—before I went to the military academy.”

“You were bored there, too.”

Did she know she’d inclined closer to him?

“Teachers did try,” he said, working the keyboard with one hand, draping his other arm over the back of the sofa. “But they had a class full of students to teach. So I was given lots of independent studies.”

“Computer work.” She set her cup on the far end of the coffee table. “Alone?”

Hell, yes, alone. All damn day long. “The choice was that or be a social outcast in a class with people five or more years older.”

She tapped the pause key on his laptop and turned toward him. “Sounds very lonely for a child.”

“My social skills weren’t the best. I was happier alone.”

“How could the teachers and your parents expect your social skills to improve if they isolated you?” Her eyes went deep blue with compassion.