But he’d notice the tracers in her code. Two hours wasn’t enough time to hide them; she’d need to delete them instead.
But first, she had to email Nazir.
Helen’s fingers moved quickly over the keyboard, but Jaxon dragged up a chair and sat beside her.Shit. She hastily switched windows on her screen, covering up her email.
“Who’s this program going to anyway?” she asked, hoping to distract him.
“People in a hurry.” Jaxon rapped his knuckles on the table. “Get moving!”
Helen jumped to it. Jaxon was a dangerous, volatile animal, and she couldn’t risk pissing him off. All she could do was finish the code and try to escape.
An hour and a half later, having worked with Jaxon constantly at her side, Helen had managed to remove the tracking script and had completed the program as efficiently as she could.
“It’s ready to test.”
“There’s no time,” Jaxon growled.
“It’ll take twenty minutes. You know it has to be done.”
“Okay, run it.” Jaxon huffed and pushed back his chair. “I need a slash. Where’s your toilet?”
“That way.” Helen nodded to the hallway, and as soon as Jaxon left the room, logged on to her emails.
“What are you doing?”
Fuck.“Nothing.” Helen pushed her chair back and edged toward the door. “We’ve got twenty minutes to kill, I’m going to get some fresh air.”
“I don’t think so.” Jaxon caught up with her, standing so close his body odor defiled her senses.
Had she actually thought she’d like to sleep with this man? Bile rose in her throat. “I need air.”
“No.” Jaxon grabbed her wrist and yanked her away from the door.
“Let me go.” Divyesh Karsan's black eyes and big angry welts haunted her again. “You’re hurting me.”
He squeezed harder—and the pain, like a starting gun, was all Helen needed to jerk her knee up sharp into his crotch. Jaxon doubled over like a ragdoll and she made a run for the door.
But he caught her ankle and sent Helen crashing facedown to the ground.
Chapter 33
Damnit,Helen,pickup!
“She’s still not answering.” Seb hissed out another curse and immediately redialed Helen’s number.
“A police car should be with them soon,” Grice said, steering Seb’s car around the deep bends toward the cottage. The moment Grice had revealed Helen could be in danger, Seb offered his car, which was parked nearby. Grice hadn’t wasted any time arguing but insisted he drive, ordering Seb to keep out of the way. “Email her. It’s worth a shot if she’s online.”
“I’ve already done that.” Seb’s heart beat in his throat, his palms sticky, as he pieced together everything Grice had said about how he and his team had watched Helen get drunk at the hotel that day and stumble straight into Seb’s path. “Helen suspected you’d switched her placement.”
“We knew she would. People act differently under pressure so we gave her clues to see what she’d do.” Grice shifted gears and pressed on the gas. “We had a list of potential placements setup, but the trouble was working out how to plant an undercover op that she’d go for.”
Seb closed his eyes. “Are you telling me you would’ve set someone up to date her?”
“No.” Grice negotiated another bend. “That’s actually frowned upon. Unless it’s essential. We’d planned to take her out of the Get Living Center after a few days, but we got lucky when she kissed you.”
“You stirred that up. Made me think you were after a story.”
“I’m sorry, I had to. And after she jumped you, I suspected you’d want to save face and keep Helen as your date, especially when a check on Cassandra Phillips told us she wouldn’t be back any time soon.”
