Page 30 of Truck Stop Tempest

I was the best at what I did. Programming. Hacking. Security. I would help Tucker locate his targets. Help take them down. He’d lost his stomach for violence the day Lucia was born. With my skills, violence was no longer necessary. I had other ways to hurt the pedophiles. The pimps? They were another story. But I’d been working on ways to bring them down, too.

It would be months before the home was ready to receive girls. But I’d already set up my equipment and started work on security around the property.

The door to my office opened by code. I punched the numbers on the keypad. With a satisfying thunk, the door swung wide, revealing a long hallway that led to another door. Another code entered, and that door opened into what would be my second home for the unforeseeable future.

I keyed the necessary digits, waited for the green light, and pulled the handle. At the sound of my voice, the room lit in a warm glow.

Tuuli pushed past, bumping me out of the way. I took the opportunity to study the way her jeans hugged her ass. Then spent my attention on her expression as she spun a three-sixty, taking in the room. Monitors, keyboards, the wall-to-wall equipment that would soon control every square foot of the manor.

“Tito,” she said, breathy and awed.

I liked the way my name sounded on her lips.

“Did this room come with the house?”

“No. I built this.”

“You?””This is what I do.”

“Are you a computer genius or something?” She brushed a finger over one of the many keyboards lined up on the main desk.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Or something.”

“I don’t understand. You said this would be a refuge for troubled kids. Why the NASA level security?”

“I’ll work security for the home, but I’m a private contractor as well. Some jobs require more of…” I gestured around the room with a sweep of my arm, “this.”

“Well, now I understand your need for an open, airy penthouse to call home. It’s stifling in here. No windows. No natural light.”

“When I’m working, I need the seclusion.” I stepped behind Tuuli. Damn, her hair smelled good. Like sugar cookies.

“Can I see the rest of the place?” she asked, leaning into me.

My chest constricted at the contact. My fingers tingled with the need to touch. My head spun with images conjured of us naked.

I should never have brought her to my office. My workspace was forever tainted with her scent, her face, the sound of her sweet, sweet voice.