Marriage Confidential Read online

  She laughed. “No.” She rolled her hand, inviting two younger people into the conversation. “Carli and Devon noticed some increasing negative chatter directly tied to the event this evening. The primary person in the chat room had too many specifics of the agenda tonight for it to be random. The FBI has been running down the source, which left Carli and Devon to try and amuse the hacker until you could get here. Pardon me,” she said. “Carli and Devon, this is Sam Bellemere.”

  “O-M-G.” Carli clapped a hand over her mouth. Her blue eyes were huge behind her glasses. “I cannot believe you married Sam Bellemere. You’re the—”

  “Mastermind of Gray Box,” Devon said, finishing her sentence. “We’re huge fans,” he gushed.

  They both tried to shake his hand simultaneously and Sam laughed it off. Though he’d never be completely comfortable in the spotlight, their overwhelming greeting gave him a pleasant distraction from another mention of marriage. Marrying Madison—or any woman—wasn’t something he considered forgettable.

  Reflexively he looked at her hand and caught the wedding set on her left ring finger. It was timeless and elegant, much like the woman wearing it. The classic beauty of the wedding set contrasted with the larger ruby ring on her right hand that accented the sleek lines of her dress. So he hadn’t misheard the suit with the tablet. Madison had listed him as her husband?

  “Was Rush your best man?” Carli asked.

  “If we could stay on point,” Madison interjected coolly.

  Happily, Sam thought. Whatever her reasons for calling him her husband, he trusted she’d tell him later. He wouldn’t embarrass her with questions now, in front of people who clearly respected her. “What do you need?” He reached for the mouse and scrolled through the screenshots Carli and Devon had captured.

  “I need to know the white jade cup and the museum as a whole are secure and will stay secure. This exhibit is a huge honor for the US and a big show of trust from China. Any perceived trouble could undo months of negotiations.” She waved over another man. “If you’d coordinate with Special Agent Spalding, I need to circulate with the guests for a few minutes.”

  “Sure.” He pulled out a chair and sat down. Within a few keystrokes, he was into the museum system and feeling his way around. He’d much rather be here than out there with her among a crowd of strangers.

  While Spalding brought him up to speed, Sam felt Carli and Devon watching every keystroke as he looked for how the hacker had wormed this code into the display controls.

  The code caught his full attention and everything around him faded into the background. He was always happier working with computer code than trying to unravel the mysteries of people. People had secrets and hidden agendas such as pretend marriage. Computer code, no matter how convoluted or infectious, always retained a sense of logic, if only to the coder. He couldn’t imagine how Madison managed all the protocols and people day in and day out. He’d go crazy under that kind of pressure.

  As he worked, he kept up a running litany for Spalding. “The chances of finding his location with the tools here are low.” Sam wasn’t ready to risk a connection and upload his personal tool kit to a compromised system. “For tonight,” he continued, “I can isolate the issues and prevent him from causing more havoc.”

  “Can you keep him out?”

  “That requires a major upgrade for the museum. They’re well-protected from the things they know about. This...” His voice trailed off until he ran into another annoying speed bump. “Well, this kid is good.”

  “How do you know it’s a kid?” Spalding asked.

  “Just an educated guess based on the language, creative approach and execution. He gained access through a gap in the contact page.”

  Devon and Carli added their opinions and voices to the discussion, speculating on who was behind the attack and where they were hiding. Though Sam wasn’t willing to give away the online security programs he used at Gray Box, he was happy 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 difficu
lt. 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 manners.” If he focused on her, he didn’t mind the other people milling about, watching them.

  Madison peered up at him through her lashes. “Was that before or after juvie?”

  “Both, actually,” he admitted. Why conversation had always been easy with her was a perpetual mystery to him. She’d always been out of his league and yet she’d never been rude about what she needed when he tutored her. The sobering thought brought him back to the reason she’d called on him to help.

  He bent his head close to hers and whispered in her ear. “There’s more to the problem you had tonight, isn’t there?”

  Her hand smoothed a small circle across his shoulder. “Yes.” The serene mask she kept between the world and her emotions fell back into place.

  “I’d like to talk about it in more detail.”

  “As soon as I’m home I’ll call you and fill you in.”

  “No.” Based on who she was, the people around them and the disjointed threats from the hacker and online chat rooms, he didn’t trust her phone or email right now. Knowing how she’d reached out to him, he had a few concerns about the security of his phone and email. “In person is better. Smarter,” he added.

  Her body tensed under his hands. “Sam, stop. You’ve done enough for me. I can handle it with the FBI’s help from here.”

  “I’m serious, Madison.” He guided her through a turn and brought her closer to his body. “You know the history of this situation. You know the protocols and risks in your world better than I do.”

  When concern flared in her eyes, he knew she was following his line of thinking. If she’d used his name from the beginning of her marriage charade, he had reason to worry that his condo might be compromised. It wasn’t simply his fondness for spy novels fueling the paranoia. He and Rush had survived several corporate espionage attempts, from local to global threats. As he’d watched Madison work the room, he realized several people in the Chinese delegation recognized him and were reassessing her because of it. He sensed serious trouble brewing and he needed her insight to get ahead of it.

  “How long have people believed I’m your husband?”

  Chapter Three

  Madison knew precisely what he was asking and she was ashamed for not thinking of it earlier. Her desperate action had put him at risk. She blamed her oversight on being near him, close enough to touch. Holding his hand, having that strong, warm palm pressed against hers, brought her persistent fantasy to life with vivid detail. Despite the crazy twists and turns of the evening, despite knowing there were likely more problems ahead, this past hour with him had been nothing short of a dream come true.

  And now she was waking up with a jolt. “Only the security clearance team is aware the wedding set is only for show.” The rings had been enough of a buffer for her, until tonight.

  “That doesn’t answer my question,” he stated, executing another perfect turn in the dance.

  Of course it didn’t. Sam Bellemere, master of logistics and computer code, was searching for the bug—the flaw—in her story. “I have no reason to believe your home has been compromised.” She pushed the words through the tight smile she kept plastered on her face.

  “A good start.”

  “I never once used your full name in any conversation or correspondence until tonight.”

  She felt more than heard his disbelieving snort. Did he have to push this here and now? She was worn out, had been working toward this evening for the better part of a year. She had a bottle of her favorite wine chilled and waiting at her apartment for her private celebration. “I will tell you the whole story. In person.”

  “I know.” His hands flexed, underscoring the inevitability of those two words.

  Was that a threat or a promise? Her body had an opinion, but that was nothing new. She’d worked her tail off through high school and college until finally realizing her goal of becoming a liaison with the State Department. The joy had dulled quickly when she ran up against the preconceived notions of men and women from different countries and cultures. It wasn’t a shock, she knew her research, yet facing it head-on day in and day out had challenged her resolve. The illusion of having a husband smoothed out those rough edges and gave her the respect and distance she needed to excel in her position. Even the team who handled her security clearance had been on board with the idea, since there wouldn’t be any issues with questionable romantic relationships.

  At the office, with the people who knew her best, she’d found having a particular man in mind made the lie easier. Even if she didn’t share the details of the whirlwind wedding and happy marriage, it gave her story credibility. No need to fabricate height, hair and eye color, or how her husband smiled at her over a shared joke. All she had to do was picture the man dancing with her now.

  Sam Bellemere, reclusive, wealthy and brilliant, was the embodiment of her ideal husband and she had no intention of admitting such a thing. At six feet, he was the perfect height for her. His brown hair and brown eyes might sound bland, yet thinking about the flecks of gold in his irises she’d noticed when he tutored her, recalling his exasperation and amusement with her struggle to learn what he mastered so easily, always made her smile. It was those sweet memories that convinced her coworkers she’d found her soul mate.

  If only it could be true.

  It was impossible to ignore how he’d bulked up as he matured, filling out through the shoulders and everywhere else since high school. He was light on his feet, his muscles firm under his tuxedo. She’d read in an interview that he kept fit by boxing at a gym across town. It was obviously working.

  She reeled in her attraction before it became obvious. Her crush on him had begun that first week of his tutoring. No matter where she went, who she met or dated, or how many birthdays she celebrated, he was the standard by which she measured all men. She knew being stuck on a high-school crush was ridiculous. She worried there was something wrong with her emotionally. Every attempt to break through those persistent feelings had failed.