Dirty Dare: The Rescue (Sexy Suspense) (Part 1, spin-off to the Dirty and Dare Me series) by Julie Leto
Authors: Julie Leto
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he’ll know we’re coming.”
“Won’t he know that by now anyway?”
“Maybe,” he conceded, “or he might just think I’m heading back to the States.”
Brynn smirked. “I expect that Dante Burke knows you as well as you know him. Would he really think you’re going to leave Europe and head home without getting answers?”
“Never in a million years.”
The conversation ended. Brynn opted to keep her brother in the dark, and Sean opted to concentrate on the road. They alternated between highway and back roads, stretching the five-and-a-half-hour drive to nearly eight. By the time the gray sky lightened as the sunrise was smothered by storm clouds, they’d stopped at an inn outside of the coastal city and booked a room.
By noon, Brynn’s contact arrived, took their photos, charged extra to make Sean’s look as if it hadn’t been taken four weeks after a severe beating, and promised to deliver exceptional passports by the next day. So in the grand tradition of men and women on the run, they pretended to be newlyweds and sequestered themselves in their room.
Sean fell asleep before his head hit the pillow. Unwilling to torture herself with watching his chest rise and fall for hours on end, Brynn dragged a wingback chair near the window and, by the meager sunlight, tapped into a nearby wireless signal and programmed her laptop to breach a secure backdoor entrance she’d designed herself into the secure Titan International system.
She set a timer. She had no idea if Dante’s people were trolling the vast Internet for a signal that could be traced back to her, but she wasn’t taking any chances. She searched the company’s database for intelligence on the man himself, backdating her exploration so that it would look as if she’d searched before she took orders from him rather than after.
She supposed she should have done this before or since, but she hadn’t thought it necessary. When he’d called her, she’d known who he was and what he was capable of. Up until the moment she’d found the listening device in her take-out carton, she’d thought he’d been on her side.
Now, she wasn’t so sure.
Unfortunately, her search revealed nothing earth-shattering, though she did learn that he’d only recently been reinstalled as a CIA division director after the death of his predecessor, Abercrombie Finch. She’d had no clue that he’d ever left the CIA, and nothing she found hinted at why he’d gone back. The name Abercrombie Finch sounded familiar, but as she wasn’t going to waste her limited online time on a man who was dead, she decided not to investigate him.
Since Sean had mentioned Dante’s wife, she did risk a few more minutes online looking for Macy Rush. Searches about her came up empty—as if she didn’t exist—which, Brynn supposed, was par for the course in the world of counterintelligence.
She’d just logged out of the computer when Sean asked, “How long have you been using that signal?”
She looked up, surprised by how dark the room had become. “My system automatically logs in and out at random intervals. It even switches wireless signals from time to time and scrambles the information I’ve accessed over several continents. It slows everything down to a crawl, but it’s impossible to trace.”
He pulled himself up to a sitting position and ran his hands through his wildly disheveled hair. “You shouldn’t take unnecessary chances.”
“Said the pot to the kettle,” Brynn replied.
He ignored her joke. “What were you looking for?”
She slid the laptop onto the tiny round table, nearly knocking over the delicate lamp. “What do you think I’m looking for?”
“Intel about me?”
She snorted. “What do you think I was doing during those two weeks when all you did was sleep? I wasn’t looking up recipes.”
“You cook?” he asked skeptically.
“No,” she snapped, “which explains why I didn’t spend those endless hours perusing food porn sites. I
“Won’t he know that by now anyway?”
“Maybe,” he conceded, “or he might just think I’m heading back to the States.”
Brynn smirked. “I expect that Dante Burke knows you as well as you know him. Would he really think you’re going to leave Europe and head home without getting answers?”
“Never in a million years.”
The conversation ended. Brynn opted to keep her brother in the dark, and Sean opted to concentrate on the road. They alternated between highway and back roads, stretching the five-and-a-half-hour drive to nearly eight. By the time the gray sky lightened as the sunrise was smothered by storm clouds, they’d stopped at an inn outside of the coastal city and booked a room.
By noon, Brynn’s contact arrived, took their photos, charged extra to make Sean’s look as if it hadn’t been taken four weeks after a severe beating, and promised to deliver exceptional passports by the next day. So in the grand tradition of men and women on the run, they pretended to be newlyweds and sequestered themselves in their room.
Sean fell asleep before his head hit the pillow. Unwilling to torture herself with watching his chest rise and fall for hours on end, Brynn dragged a wingback chair near the window and, by the meager sunlight, tapped into a nearby wireless signal and programmed her laptop to breach a secure backdoor entrance she’d designed herself into the secure Titan International system.
She set a timer. She had no idea if Dante’s people were trolling the vast Internet for a signal that could be traced back to her, but she wasn’t taking any chances. She searched the company’s database for intelligence on the man himself, backdating her exploration so that it would look as if she’d searched before she took orders from him rather than after.
She supposed she should have done this before or since, but she hadn’t thought it necessary. When he’d called her, she’d known who he was and what he was capable of. Up until the moment she’d found the listening device in her take-out carton, she’d thought he’d been on her side.
Now, she wasn’t so sure.
Unfortunately, her search revealed nothing earth-shattering, though she did learn that he’d only recently been reinstalled as a CIA division director after the death of his predecessor, Abercrombie Finch. She’d had no clue that he’d ever left the CIA, and nothing she found hinted at why he’d gone back. The name Abercrombie Finch sounded familiar, but as she wasn’t going to waste her limited online time on a man who was dead, she decided not to investigate him.
Since Sean had mentioned Dante’s wife, she did risk a few more minutes online looking for Macy Rush. Searches about her came up empty—as if she didn’t exist—which, Brynn supposed, was par for the course in the world of counterintelligence.
She’d just logged out of the computer when Sean asked, “How long have you been using that signal?”
She looked up, surprised by how dark the room had become. “My system automatically logs in and out at random intervals. It even switches wireless signals from time to time and scrambles the information I’ve accessed over several continents. It slows everything down to a crawl, but it’s impossible to trace.”
He pulled himself up to a sitting position and ran his hands through his wildly disheveled hair. “You shouldn’t take unnecessary chances.”
“Said the pot to the kettle,” Brynn replied.
He ignored her joke. “What were you looking for?”
She slid the laptop onto the tiny round table, nearly knocking over the delicate lamp. “What do you think I’m looking for?”
“Intel about me?”
She snorted. “What do you think I was doing during those two weeks when all you did was sleep? I wasn’t looking up recipes.”
“You cook?” he asked skeptically.
“No,” she snapped, “which explains why I didn’t spend those endless hours perusing food porn sites. I
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