Marriage Confidential. Debra Regan
to weave in a few improvements and lock out the hacker for tonight. “Display controls and locks are back in my control,” a man said from across the room.
“The group from China will be delighted to hear it,” Spalding said with obvious relief. “Almost as much as the museum director.”
Sam imagined Madison would be pleased, as well. “The hard work isn’t done,” he warned. “This stopgap will buy the museum forty-eight hours at best. If he wants back in, he’ll find a way.”
“The exhibit runs through the end of the year,” Madison said from over his shoulder.
Sam swiveled in the seat and met her serene gaze. “I didn’t hear you come in.” He checked his watch, surprised he’d been working on this for nearly an hour.
She gave him a small smile. “Can you create a solution that will last?”
“Yes, but not from here.” He stood up from the workstation. “I’ll work on it more tomorrow. For tonight, everything should run flawlessly.”
“Wonderful.” Her eyes were filled with gratitude. “Thank you, on behalf of all of us.”
“We’ll need to coordinate with your efforts moving forward,” Spalding said. “My team needs to know what you’re implementing.”
Startled at the man’s audacity, Sam laughed. “I’ll keep you in the loop, but you’re not coming anywhere near my lab at Gray Box.”
“This is an ongoing FBI case,” Spalding countered, planting his hands on his hips.
“All right, it’s yours. What a relief I’m not needed here anymore.” Sam stepped away from the workstation and shoved his hands into his pockets before he gave in to the urge to pop Spalding on the chin. At one time, he’d been a scrawny nerd. After high school, when his days were his to manage, he started putting in almost as many hours at the gym as he did at the keyboard.
“Gentlemen,” Madison chided. “I’m sure we can come to terms at a more appropriate time in the morning.”
Sam wanted to snarl at the insinuation that he’d cave on this point. “FBI, Department of Defense, or whoever, can sign a contract if they want a consultant. I don’t work for free.”
He and Rush had seen a need and gone after it, cornering the market of online information security. They’d both developed and sold ideas for millions, so founding Gray Box hadn’t been strictly a money-motivated endeavor. Although no one seemed to believe it, they had an altruistic side, professionally and personally.
Hackers once themselves, they’d been disowned by that community when they launched Gray Box. He couldn’t recall a week since the company went public without an attempt on the servers. Every hacker in the world wanted the instant reputation and recognition that would come from breaking into Gray Box. The legitimate businesses they supported now still held a reserve of distrust, despite their zero-breach record. Sam reminded himself public image wasn’t his problem. He left that to Rush and Rush left the lion’s share of the day-to-day technology to him.
“If you’re set,” Sam said to Madison, “I’ll be on my way.” He shook hands with Carli and Devon and signed a business card for each of them. With a final nod to Spalding, he let Madison walk him out of the security suite.
“You haven’t heard the last of Spalding,” she murmured. “He takes his role in this seriously.”
“As he should,” Sam said, matching her low tone. “I’ll cooperate with him, but I’m not handing over proprietary technology or software.” Again he reached to push his glasses up so he could rub his eyes and remembered in the nick of time he was wearing his contacts. “By noon tomorrow, I’ll have better location intel for the FBI to work with as well as a comprehensive protective program for the museum. At a fair price.”
“Remarkable.” She stopped, placing a hand on his arm again. “I have one more favor to ask.”
He arched his eyebrows, waiting.
She glanced up and down the hallway before meeting his gaze. “Spend a few minutes at the reception with me. News of my, um, husband’s arrival has made people curious.”
He kept her waiting, but she didn’t flinch. “Okay, on one condition.”
“Only one?”
He reconsidered his position. “One condition and I reserve the right to add conditions based on your answers.”
She held her ground and his gaze. “I reserve the right to refuse on a per item basis. Name your primary condition.”
He felt the smile curl his lips, saw her lovely mouth curve in reply. “Tell me where and why we married.”
“Not here.” Her smile faded. “You deserve a full explanation and you’ll get it, I promise. As soon as I navigate the minefield this evening has become. I don’t have any right to impose further, but I could use a buffer in there.”
He suddenly wanted to step up and be that buffer. For her. “I’m no asset in social settings, Madison.”
“No one’s expecting you to be a social butterfly. You only have to be yourself and pretend to be proud of me.”
He didn’t care for her phrasing. Before he could debate the terms further, she leaned her body close to his and gave him a winning smile. “Later,” she murmured, tapping his lips with her finger. “Let’s go. There’s only an hour left.” She linked her hand with his and turned, giving him a start when they came face-to-face with one of the guests.
Her moves made sense now. She’d known they were being watched while he’d been mesmerized by her soft green eyes. The intimacy had only been for show. Thank goodness.
If her smile was any indication, he’d managed the first introduction flawlessly. They were soon surrounded by others eager to meet Madison’s elusive husband. Beside her, working the room wasn’t difficult. She never left him to fend for himself and listening to her answer the same repeated questions, he learned she’d kept details of her married life private. It made the hour easier to bear.
The only thing that came naturally to him was demonstrating pride in his fake wife. She had a flare for diplomacy—no surprise, considering her career. He admired her ability to say the right things or politely evade questions she didn’t want to answer.
When they entered the gallery where the prized white jade cup glowed under soft lights surrounded by guards, he was the only person close enough to catch her relieved sigh. She squeezed his hand. “Thank you, Sam. You saved me tonight.”
He couldn’t recall ever hearing similar words aimed at him. “We should dance,” he replied, noticing other couples dancing on the terrace where live music was under way.
“You don’t have to do that,” she said, resisting.
This was a new role. Not the one she’d created for him with the marriage ruse, but being the eager and willing dance partner. He tipped his head to the open doors, urging her to come along. “It’s a gorgeous night and it’s our public debut as a couple.”
“It’s not necessary,” she murmured as they lingered on the fringes of the dance floor.
“Afraid I’ll step on your toes?” He managed to keep the growing list of questions to himself, though he couldn’t wait to hear how she’d passed her security clearances with a fake husband. “Come on,” he cajoled. “We deserve a little fun.” Besides, he had more he wanted to say. Nothing as eloquent as the cheesy lines he’d just delivered—something far more relevant to his real reason for being here.
With a little spin, he turned her into his arms and they joined the flow of dancing couples.
“Impressive.” She gave him an open, friendly smile that suited her better than the cool reserve she’d shown all evening.
“My mom was a stickler for all the traditional