Into Temptation

Jeanie London

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Dear Reader,

THE WHITE STAR legend continues… The amulet is now leaving the United States to follow its destiny into several sexy European locales. While it journeys to places both familiar and new, it weaves the power of true love over two new lovers.

True love is about the last thing MI6 agent Lindy Gardner expects when she crosses the big pond to pursue the man who can lead her to the amulet. Joshua Benedict isn’t expecting true love, either. He doesn’t believe in legends or curses – only in the luck he makes for himself.

But the White Star possesses a power that finds the pure of heart even in the unlikeliest places.

The instant I heard about this continuity series, I knew Into Temptation was the story for me. I hope you enjoy!

Very truly yours,

Jeanie London

To all the folks who had a hand in creating this

wonderful world…my continuity buds: Lori

Wilde, Carrie Alexander, Kristin Hardy and

Shannon Hollis; our project manager

extraordinaire, Kathryn Lye; and my own

always-brilliant editor, Wanda Ottewell.

It has been a pleasure, ladies!

A warm breeze stirred branches, filling the air with the incense of eucalyptus. Yet Egmath glared into the sultry night, a mixture of defiance and despair making this magical place seem unfamiliar, though he had always found refuge here.

“How can so perfect a night herald such heartache?” he demanded of the dark that lay as sweeping velvet over the river, studded by stars and illumined by moonlight.

He would find no shelter this night. He could escape neither destiny nor duty, for on the morrow his marriage would take place in the Hall of a Thousand Pillars.

Always, Egmath had intended to speak the sacred vows with his beloved Batu, but the priests had sworn him to her sister, the heiress to the throne. And the gods would mock them all, for he and Batu would fl ank their future queen before the altar while he uttered vows binding him to the wrong woman, tearing the heart from his beloved’s chest, from his own.

These past days of feasting and preparation had blurred together, marked only by his spiking dread as the wedding approached. He told himself a feted warrior who had faced death in battle should be more courageous of spirit and reconciled to duty, yet obligation lay as a death pall over his future. When he could fi nally endure the agony no longer, he had summoned Batu, knowing he would not find the strength to endure the morrow without holding her in his arms one last time.

He stared into the moonlit darkness with eyes hungry for the sight of her. She emerged from the shadows as she always had, bereft of the adornments of the royal court, a simple gown flowing around her, tempting him with sleek curves and raven hair that gleamed silver and gold beneath the night.

In her welcoming smile he found his shelter.

“You came to me,” he said.

She approached with a grace that had made her fi endishly difficult to catch when they had played their youthful games as children, liquid strides that had enticed him since his arrival in manhood. Feasting on the sight of her, he extended his hands. She slid her own within.

“I would look upon you one last time as we have always been.” Her heart glowed in her eyes. “I would look upon you as you always will be—my love.”

Their bodies swayed close, drawn together as naturally as the pull of the tide, barely touching, yet her nearness soothed away the ache in his soul and righted the universe.

Then he brought his mouth down upon hers. For the spate of one shared breath, the promise of a future that should have been theirs lay between them—the prelude to their kiss, so agonizingly sweet, before need crashed in, and passion reigned.

Batu yielded beneath the press of his lips. He thrilled to her giving response, his own yearning that defied destiny and circumstance, made him ache to toss obligation to the four winds and follow the call of desire. This woman was his lifeblood…his friend, his strength, his fantasy.

With his mouth upon hers and his tongue tasting the demand of her kiss, Egmath would have laid down his life to avoid the morrow. But self-indulgence was not to be his. Only in his strength would Batu fi nd her courage to face their future. He loved her too much to deny her any chance to fi nd peace.

When finally they broke apart, their passion lingering in their ragged breaths, in the whispers of the palms on the breeze, she pressed something into his palm.

“What is this?” He gazed down upon a mother-of-pearl amulet fashioned in the shape of a star.

“I would give you my heart.” Her voice trembled through lips reddened by his kiss. “To keep with you forever.”

“I will cherish your gift always. Your heart shall be my strength and my beacon through this darkness.”

When she held her hand over his, he knew she understood all his feelings so poorly conveyed.

“I would beg such a prize of you as well, Egmath.”

“It is yours, my beloved, as is my heart.”

“Then grant me tonight, where I will be yours alone. Gift me with a memory I shall cherish forever.”

The amulet blazed in their clasped hands, a fire that captured the power of their love, the force of their shared passion, a heat that would bind them in spirit forever.

Egmath brought their hands to his mouth, breathed a promise in the kiss he pressed to her smooth skin.

She trembled.

“Tonight shall be ours,” he vowed.

Loosing the clasp at her shoulder, he swept away the gown to expose her golden loveliness. The double- edged blade of desire pierced his heart as she came into his arms, unfolding in a sweep of lush curves and warm flesh that aligned perfectly against him.

“A memory to cherish always, my beloved Batu, a reminder that neither duty nor fate nor death can separate us, for true love will endure.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Copyright

1

New York City, where the chic and commonplace clash along busy streets that make the perfect place to pursue a man.

“OH MY, MY, but the man is even more dishy in the skin,” Lindy Gardner said to no one in particular as she focused the digital-cam binoculars.

The device had been designed to look like a pair of stylish sunglasses, so she didn’t concern herself with the passersby on the street, but zoomed in on the tall blonde leaving the ritzy Piazza Hotel.

Joshua Benedict aka Stuart Temple. Approximately thirty-eight years old.

Origins: unknown.

Current residence: Nice, France.

Occupation: Fixer.

She produced the man’s stats by rote, but peering through those lenses, Lindy didn’t see a familiar image from the surveillance photos the Secret Intelligence Service, MI6, had collected during recent months.

Life sparked the lifeless images she’d studied during mission briefing into a wholly 3-D man. He stepped onto the pavement, his smile dazzling as he inclined his head to the doorman and moved past with smooth strides.

Definitely a man her old school chums would have called a cut above bog standard.

With the depression of a button, zoom lenses magnified her vantage again. Startling black eyes and brows contrasted with his pale hair and tanned skin. His hair glinted in the late-afternoon sun.

Joshua Benedict looked as if he spent much of his time sailing, fishing and windsurfing on the deep-blue waters of the French Riviera.

According to her intel, he did.

But Lindy also knew he spent the rest of his time jet- setting around the globe conducting business.

Legitimate society believed this man to be nothing more than a businessman with many areas of interest. But the world of the Secret Intelligence suspected Joshua Benedict of conducting illegal business, which was precisely why he was in New York City on this bright spring afternoon.

And why she’d followed him here.

Tracing her finger along the binoculars in what would appear to the casual observer as an adjustment to her sunglasses, Lindy depressed another button and captured the man’s image as he moved beneath the Piazza Hotel’s marquee.

Target acquired.

Joshua Benedict appeared to be a tourist, looking for all the world as if he belonged in the crush of people that ebbed and flowed along the street.

Lindy knew there was nothing casual about this man’s visit, however. An informant had relayed reliable intel that connected Joshua Benedict to a recent auction-house theft.

Not as the thief, though.

This man maneuvered easily through the layers of society, from the wealthy glitterati to the shadowy underworld of international organized crime. He rubbed elbows with power brokers, from global financiers to old-money families who made up high society on three continents.

He had established his reputation as a man who could mastermind brilliant business deals, “fix” any sort of unexpected situation and leave behind no prosecutable evidence. Most importantly, he could keep secrets.

A regular Johnny of all trades.

The thought made Lindy smile. Ironically, his job description didn’t sound so far off from hers.

Except that Joshua Benedict worked for the bad guys, and one bad guy in particular.

Henri Renouf.

The man SIS wanted to apprehend in a big way.

In much the same fashion as Joshua Benedict, Henri Renouf was known to the general public as a businessman with a cutthroat reputation—a reputation built through rumor, innuendo and suspicion. Since Renouf had been around for over four decades, he’d established himself as a private and very powerful man whom most people didn’t dare to cross.

According to Secret Intelligence, the rumor, innuendo and suspicion surrounding Renouf was well-founded. The man was known to be an obsessive antiquities collector, but Renouf didn’t let the availability of artifacts deter his acquisitions. In Britain alone, he was suspected of “acquiring” numerous priceless relics from museums and private residences through thefts spanning several decades.

Since Renouf had the resources to conduct his shady actions through intermediaries, he protected himself with distance. But with each passing year, he got bolder. While no international agency had enough evidence to prosecute, after a recent rash of heists all over the globe, her agency, in conjunction with Interpol, had deemed the time ripe to make contact with one of Renouf’s associates.

Joshua Benedict was a means to an end.

With that thought, Lindy watched him cross the street then found herself suddenly on the move.

In her chic two-piece ensemble, she could have been any resident of this big city, where people favored practical walking shoes and relegated more stylish footwear into carryalls until reaching their destinations.

Her own carryall contained shoes, plus a few items that would mark her as a visitor to the Big Apple. Mostly cover essentials. Passport. Notebook computer. Cellular phone.

Hiking the bag higher on her shoulder, Lindy marked their path along Fifth Avenue, keeping her gaze on her target, admiring the way he affected the perfect blend of casual disinterest and purposeful concentration as he passed upscale stores.

Admiring the man himself.

Benedict moved with a boldness she knew would make him a native of any city on any continent. Confidence. He wore it as easily as the lightweight blue shirt and tan slacks—clothes that had clearly never seen a rack, judging by the way they molded the athletic lines of his body. If she could see his feet, Lindy knew she’d find him wearing something butter-soft and expensive.

So far, the man fit his profile to a T.

Except that she hadn’t expected him to be quite so handsome.

When he stopped to await a signal to navigate another cross-street, Lindy slipped the digital-cam binoculars back up her nose and snapped a second image, just to see if she could capture his expression as he glanced up at a building, surveying his environs as skillfully and inconspicuously as she might.

But there was no question in Lindy’s mind that he was taking stock of his surroundings. Something about the stone cut of his jaw, perhaps. Or maybe the furrow between those dark eyebrows that suggested a deliberation she recognized.

It took one to know one—someone who was up to a lot more than he appeared to be.

Hanging back a step, Lindy moved behind an older woman wearing a wide hat, who had just enjoyed a spree at Amali’s, according to her sacks. And when the traffic signal changed, she made her way around the woman with a quick smile and a cordial, “Lovely bonnet.”

While she wasn’t sure precisely what to expect from Benedict, she’d come prepared for any number of scenarios. She knew why he’d come to town, but had no way of knowing how he would take care of his business.

She’d come up with a few likely guesses, of course, but not one of them had led her to the sweeping spires of St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Yet that was exactly where he was heading—right up the bloody front steps.

Well, well, well. What business did her handsome target have with God today?

Now there was a question she wouldn’t spend too much time mulling. Lindy wasn’t particularly religious, but she had been reared in the English countryside, where Sunday trips to the village church had been a way of life.

As a result, she had a healthy respect for passing judgment and throwing stones in places where she herself wouldn’t want others passing judgment or throwing stones. With her work as an intelligence agent over the past decade, she’d found herself in enough situations that some might label morally questionable. Unless Joshua Benedict’s business with God had something to do with Henri Renouf, Lindy wasn’t interested.

But she couldn’t help thinking a cathedral would be an ace place to hand off a stolen artifact, so she strode lightly up the steps and made her way inside.

Given that her work covered every European city in what was once known as Christendom, Lindy thought old Gothic cathedrals pretty standard fare. While she didn’t know much about this one—and honestly hadn’t thought to research more—she did know the place was the seat of New York’s archbishop.

Stepping inside the cool interior, she found the cathedral no less majestic than any other she’d ever been in—a tribute to the architects, as America was regarded as distinctly substandard in architectural grandeur.

The bustle of a busy city vanished behind the heavy doors, and the silence—a tangible serenity that seemed a unique and integral part of churches everywhere—settled over her like the mist after a London rain.

Sliding her digital-cam binoculars on top of her head, Lindy sighted her target. She attached herself to a small group of women, all hastily affixing lace chaplets onto their teased curls, and bowed her head reverently.

Through her periphery, she watched Benedict stroll down the main aisle, taking in his surroundings almost absently, as though he made a habit of visiting churches. Sun spilled through stained glass, throwing light that splintered his handsome features with color.

Had he come to this place to make a pickup?

During mission briefing, Lindy had decided her target’s usual MO consisted of using busy public places to cover his shady business dealings. She’d watched video footage of the man strolling into Queen’s Cross as boldly as he pleased to take possession of Princess Charlotte’s tiara and scepter from a man believed to have conducted the museum theft.

Unfortunately, even with the video footage, her agency didn’t have enough evidence to prosecute the thief or the man who allegedly had delivered the goods to Renouf.

Joshua Benedict was bold, to be sure, but a cathedral? Maybe her prosaic upbringing made conducting shady business in a church seem to be tempting fate too closely for comfort.

As long as it wasn’t her eternity at stake…Lindy followed her little holy ladies to a bas-relief statue of a saint.

She watched him head to an altar flanked by two stone saints and several-dozen-odd tourists as if he owned the place, and her heart raced to think he’d take delivery of the stolen auction-house artifact in plain sight.

Shades of Queen’s Cross?

Disengaging from the holy ladies, she slid into a pew, knelt and lowered her head as if in prayer. She slid the digital-cam binoculars down her nose to watch her target move toward a station filled with tiers of votive candles.

Lindy could see no one else approach, detected nothing about the man to suggest he might be searching for anything that had been left concealed for him.

He made a donation and lit a candle.

Lindy observed him, the moments stretching almost painfully as he stared at the flame, his expression thoughtful, an almost-smile playing around his lips.

He did not meet with anyone to make a handoff.

He did not reach underneath the station and come up with any small package.

He just genuflected before the altar, made the sign of the cross then headed down the aisle the way he came, leaving Lindy staring after him with a narrowed gaze.

Joshua Benedict had come to church to light a candle.

Had she been made?

Lindy had no choice but to consider whether this seemingly purposeless side trip was for her benefit. Instinctively, she stood and moved down the aisle before he reached the doors. Wouldn’t do to lose him now. Not until she could decide whether or not he was on to her.

Timing her paces as he paused to hold the door for a couple, she veered sharply right and headed out of a side exit. She sprinted around the corner of the building, swung around a gate and onto Fifth Avenue just as he stepped onto the pavement.

And headed straight toward her.

Turning toward the curb, she raised her arm as if flagging a cab, clearing the path and covering her face from view as he swept past. So close that she caught a whiff of his aftershave—subtle, expensive, but all spice and warm male. That scent stuck with her as she spun on her heels to follow.

No eye contact. No visible sign of any awareness. If Benedict had made her, he was exceptionally good at hiding it. But that didn’t really come as any surprise to Lindy. No man could elude capture for so many years without being good.

Damn good.

This time her target led her to a traditional co-op building overlooking Central Park, the sort of place Lindy knew consisted of upscale apartments with large rooms, high ceilings and thick walls that cost more than her accumulated salary since the day she’d signed on with Secret Intelligence.

She recognized this particular building as the prewar variety, showplace of the wealthiest New York society families, modernized with a thrust of tall windows that revealed the lobby chandelier and the stairwell rising to several upper stories.

Joshua Benedict handed a card to the white-gloved doorman then swept inside as if he were the crown prince expected for tea, leaving her to bimble about on the street while he conducted business where she couldn’t see him.

Sometimes she hated surveillance.

Today was one of those times. She needed to find a less conspicuous place to ride out her watch. She couldn’t be sure whether he’d led her here intentionally. He would know that any interested parties could easily find out the names of the building residents.

In fact, the job would only take about two minutes of uninterrupted satellite uplink on her notebook. But Lindy stuck to her spot. If her target reappeared on the stairwell, he just might cut that time in half by showing her what floor he went to…

Luck was hers.

He took the stairs two at a time, not at a bound but with the fluid strides of a strong, long-legged man. Since he didn’t use the lift, she knew he only headed up a few flights, so, slipping the binoculars up her nose, she enjoyed the show.

Those lead-paned glass windows showcased the man as if he’d posed for a bloody portrait—and quite the dishy one at that. Zooming in closer, she admired the way his thighs played against his slacks with his movements, how the fabric pulled enough to give her a clear shot of his backside.

Mmm-mmm. Joshua Benedict’s profile had missed the part about him having the nicest bum she’d seen in forever, the kind that made a gal think about smoothing her hands over it. Lindy might have laughed at her own unexpected reaction to a target, but her instincts chose that exact moment to go live.

She spun around just as a no-nonsense voice barked, “Excuse me, miss.”

Not at all used to being taken by surprise, Lindy schooled her expression and stared at the uniformed security guard who frowned down at her from his superior vantage.

“Hullo, Constable,” she said cheerily, letting a bit of her British accent leak out.

She slipped off the sunglasses—the magnification made the man look like the worst sort of Picasso—and maintained eye contact. “Lovely spring afty, don’t you think?”

The man’s gaze didn’t waver, which suggested he wasn’t going to fall easy victim to her charm. Good for him.

“Not interested in the weather this afternoon. I’m interested in why you’re loitering.”

“Loitering?” She gave a sparkly laugh and toyed with the idea of admitting she’d been staring at a man’s bum.

A definite first in her experience.

But as the security guard looked all tetchy and by the book—relatively new to his job, she guessed—Lindy opted for a more conservative approach.

“Actually, I’m here on business.” She patted her carryall. “I’m with Hampstead, Heath and Associates. We’re based out of London with offices all over Europe and Asia. We’re scouting a North American site. Of course, the CEO will need housing if we open a location here. That’s where I come in—I’m checking out the neighborhood.” She tossed a glance back at the building, and the guard followed her gaze, clearly wavering.

“Do you have identification?”

“Of course. If you’ll let me go into my bag, Constable, I’ll give you my card. And my passport if you need it.”

The man inclined his head then stepped back to give her space. She produced a passport and business card that supported her claim and stood quietly while he inspected her credentials.

Americans were hyper-security conscious nowadays and rightly so, but that this guard would catch her with her binoculars snagged on a pretty sight and her usually sharp senses blinded to her surroundings was just plain unlucky.

Lindy was a stellar field agent, which was precisely why she’d been assigned this case. But she hadn’t done much more than surveillance yet, and for things to go pear- shaped so early on…she hoped this didn’t foreshadow what lay ahead.

“All right.” The guard gave a curt nod. “What else do you need before you can move on?”

“Nothing really. I’ve already researched the demographics on this and the other buildings we’re considering. The big boys will let me know which leasing agencies to make contact with, but I’ll be sure to tell them this co-op has the best security of the bunch.”

That earned a smile. “Well then, good day, miss.”

It was an obvious effort to move her along, so Lindy returned his smile, hiked her carryall higher on her shoulder and shoved off with a bright, “You have a good one, too.”

She could feel the guard’s gaze follow her down the street, where she rounded the first corner and ducked inside a conveniently located subway station to regroup.

Lindy had to act fast because she had no intention of losing sight of her target now. She had to return to that co-op without drawing the security guard’s attention again. No problem. Lindy liked challenges.

She hoped Joshua Benedict proved to be one.

JOSHUA NOTICED the woman as soon as she entered the gallery. Amid the attendees of the Classical Greek Antiquities exhibit opening, she somehow managed to look…fresh—no easy job in this human sea of designer labels, artful grooming and cosmetically-enhanced perfection.

Curious, he studied her from his position near a marble diorama of the Graces, where he sipped Moët and chatted with the exhibit’s benefactress, Lily Covington.

Perhaps Lily chatting with him better described what took place, as the society matron hadn’t stopped to draw air in a while. But Joshua didn’t mind participating in any conversation that left him free to observe this beauty who paused to admire an oil painting of Artemus with a quiver of arrows.

Maybe it was her flawless skin, touched with only the barest color to enhance a mouth designed to kiss. She wore a chiffon gown to distinguish her from the crowd of the flashy sequins and beads that defined American haute couture, the filmy off-white gown clinging to her body with classic lines hinting at all the long curves below.

She was subtle seduction as opposed to bold temptation, a woman who made him imagine two bodies close in the darkness and the sound of breathless sighs. Soft brown hair fringed around her face and neck, sexy for the way it framed her features. His gaze followed the graceful lines of her throat, and the pulse beating there, another place ripe for kissing.

He would have noticed this woman even if the gala kicking off this new exhibit hadn’t been a bore. But he couldn’t fault his hostess. As a member of the Covington family—one of the mainstays on the NewYork society scene since somewhere around the mid-nineteenth century—Lily had perfected hosting philanthropic events into an art form.

Select members of the Westbrook Philharmonic filled the gallery with music. Le Kevin, hailed as Manhattan’s latest culinary genius, catered the event with a menu of shellfish flown in from Maine and delicate hand-pressed pasta that melted on the tongue. Champagne flowed.

But not even Moët could wash away the taste of the business that had brought him to New York.

No, he assumed all responsibility for his current mood.

Forcing a smile, Joshua mouthed all the polite responses to Lily’s comments about the Graces under discussion while covertly checking out the lady in white, as he christened her.

The sight of her, at least, improved his mood.

He watched her accept a champagne flute from a passing waiter, the gesture graceful, her smile fast and real. There it was again…that impression.

This woman struck him as having much beneath her surface that she didn’t bother to hide. It was only a sense he got from watching her, but he didn’t question his perception. He was an exceptional judge of character.

A skill that always served him well.

Putting that skill to work now, he sliced his gaze across the crowd, passing over several potential prospects to mark the wife of a state senator who’d captured his party’s interest.

“I see Carolyn Vandeveer came in from Washington to attend tonight,” he said.

“She and the senator are wooing support for their upcoming presidential bid.” Lily’s tone remained unimpressed.

But Joshua knew his hostess would credit the senator’s wife with the appropriate attention. Lily respected the status of her social standing, and presidential hopefuls were only a small percentage among those who sought favor from the Covington family.

So Joshua maneuvered Lily away from the Graces with questions about another artifact and steered her in Mrs. Vandeveer’s direction. He needed to get about the business that had brought him to this museum. Only then would he be free to enjoy the night ahead.

To make the lady in white’s acquaintance.

Hooking up Lily and the senator’s wife over an urn, he participated in their conversation for a respectable few beats then begged his excuses and headed across the gallery.

Resisting the urge to glance at the lady in white, who’d been drawn into conversation with Jeffrey Baldwin of the Boston metals conglomerate—a slick bastard who never missed a trick—Joshua nodded to an usher and stepped into the hall.

While turning, he pitched a nickel behind him with a surreptitious motion, and the tinkle of the coin hitting the floor resounded exactly where he’d meant it to—inside the gallery. When the usher turned around, Joshua vanished down the hall that led to the restrooms.

Chattering voices over the smooth strains of classical music soon faded, yielding to the muted silence of an after-hours museum. Glancing at his watch, he pushed open the restroom door and entered a foyer decorated in the fashion of a gentleman’s drawing room. Joshua peered around the corner to confirm he was alone then retrieved his cell phone from a jacket pocket. He depressed a series of numbers.

The ring tone sounded only once before a gravel-voiced man picked up and asked, “You’re on schedule?”

“Yes. What about you?”

“No problems.”

“Good. Three minutes.”

Joshua severed the connection, depressed another button to activate the vibrating ringer and swapped the phone for a pair of black gloves. After donning them, he withdrew a small electronic device from his pocket and cracked the restroom door again. He glanced into the hallway to find it empty, although voices carried from the nearby ladies’ room.

Moving quickly past, Joshua raised the digital imaging device above his head and paused long enough to capture a shot of the dim hall leading to a stairwell exit.

The security monitor was positioned in the upper south corner of the ceiling, and he stopped directly beneath the camera to remain out of range.

It was a trick to balance with a foot on the narrow baseboard and the other bracing the wall, but even at six foot two, he couldn’t easily make the stretch to the ceiling. Slipping the captured image in front of the camera lens with a practiced move, he pressed down to activate the adhesive and secure the device to the crown molding.

And shut down the live feed. Until he removed the device, the security monitors on the basement level would show only the captured image of the empty hall, leaving him free to move to the stairway without detection.

He hoped this device was an unnecessary precaution. He’d arranged for tonight’s contact to bypass this security zone. But Joshua didn’t trust his fate to any man, and the idea of a camera documenting his travels into places that would raise questions wasn’t a risk he would take.

He trusted his fate to no one.

Not that tonight’s business associate presented a significant risk. This career police officer had more to lose than Joshua. In fact, until their business, this officer had been an upstanding citizen with an exemplary career record.

Unfortunately, no man was perfect, and Joshua had built a career out of uncovering other men’s imperfections.

Shaking off the thought, he moved quietly toward the exit at the end of the hall and slid through the doorway as he heard the ladies’-room door hiss open.

The third-floor stairwell was empty, but he waited until footsteps echoed below before beginning his descent. Joshua couldn’t remember exactly when he’d gotten so cautious, but cautious he’d become. Pausing in the shadows, he waited for his contact to appear for a visual verification.

There he was.

Dressed for tonight’s stint as a rent-a-cop, the man’s neatly pressed NYPD uniform fit snugly on his thick shoulders and barrel chest.

“Any problems?” Joshua descended the last few steps.

The officer shook his head. “We’re covered. I disarmed the sector. You brought the reports?”

Joshua ignored the question. “Let’s see the amulet.”

The man reached inside his pocket and withdrew a box.

Joshua had seen an auction-house photo of the White Star while researching this job. He’d thought the ivory amulet plain for Henri, who usually had an eye for more spectacular pieces. But the allure was the amulet’s legend, which prophesied love for the pure of heart and a cursed future for all else.

Joshua didn’t believe in curses, or in any luck except what he made for himself, but as he weighed the amulet in his palm, the ivory felt warm, somehow alive. He wondered if he imagined the sensation or if the police officer had noticed, too.

This NYPD veteran had bought his way out of an indiscretion on the vice squad about three years back. Joshua had uncovered this indiscretion and blackmailed the man into removing the amulet from the precinct property room. Then he’d arranged for immediate delivery. So far everything had gone according to plan. Not that he thought the officer would have had second thoughts about keeping the amulet.

The officer’s one indiscretion in an otherwise exemplary career hadn’t been hard to figure out—a substantial drug bust had gone down around the time the officer had been sending his twin daughters off to college: one at Yale, the other at Vassar.

Joshua suspected that facing Ivy League financial commitments on a policeman’s salary would have the noblest of men thinking twice about taking the high road when a windfall of drugs had fallen into his path.

That’s what had made this officer invaluable. He wasn’t a criminal, but a good guy who’d made a mistake. That distinction meant he could be manipulated.

But the officer’s luck wasn’t all bad. Joshua played fair. One unsupervised visit to a precinct property room, a stolen amulet and a meet on a museum stairwell, and the officer could go back to his wife and second mortgage with no one the wiser.

As Joshua turned the amulet over, he knew he’d chosen his target well—the officer was more interested in covering up a mistake than profiting by it.

Setting the White Star back inside the box, Joshua extracted a sheaf of papers from his inside jacket pocket. He waited while the officer skimmed the documents before asking, “You’re satisfied?”

“If I could trust I won’t see copies of these again.”

“I’m not interested in you, and the people I represent don’t know who you are. Those documents are payment for services rendered. No more or less.”

The man inclined his head in grudging acceptance. Joshua knew the officer didn’t believe him and wondered if it mattered.

Guilt only plagued men capable of feeling it.

Without a backward glance, Joshua took the stairs two at a time and paused with his ear to the door, listening for sounds from the restrooms, hearing nothing. He cracked the door and peered down the hallway in both directions to find it empty.

Edging the door wider, he slipped through then eased the door shut behind him. It wasn’t until he’d taken a step into the hall that he heard a soft laugh.

Spinning toward the sound, he watched the lady in white emerge from another doorway.

She was smiling.

2

“WELL HELLO, beautiful,” Joshua said coolly, no trace of surprise in his voice. “Lose your way?”

She shook her head, a sultry move that drew his gaze to her pouty mouth, the impudent tilt of her chin. Though the dim light cast her in shadow, he could see humor flash in her gaze. “I wanted to catch you coming out of the loo.”

British, Joshua thought, which could explain why he’d picked her out of an American crowd. But nationality didn’t explain why she was waiting behind the exit door when the restrooms were down the hall. His instincts went wild. He wasn’t used to being caught by surprise.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” he asked.

Whatever else this encounter might prove to be, it was a pleasure. Just seeing this woman up close meant admiring the way she leaned back against the wall, that dress hugging her curves with delectable precision. A long slit left her leg exposed from the knee, and he glanced down the length of shapely calf and ankle to a sandal that showcased a delicate foot.

“It seemed a crime to admire a sculpture of Eros when I was starved for good company.” She exhaled a sigh that managed to shoot his already-rushing adrenaline into the red zone.

“Old Jeff wasn’t filling the bill?”

“So you noticed me? I’d hoped you did, but to answer your question…no. Mr. Corporate Yank didn’t impress me nearly as much as he seemed to impress himself with his assets and company’s ranking on the stock exchange.”

Joshua laughed, deciding right then and there he wanted to continue this conversation. Unfortunately, he wasn’t free just yet. He would have to extricate himself from this lovely lady to remove the digital imaging device.

Leaving the device behind wasn’t an option. Once the night generator shifted on, security would notice when this hallway’s lighting didn’t change. They’d investigate. While the device couldn’t be traced, museum security procedure would demand that every guest involved in tonight’s gala be questioned.

Joshua preferred not to appear on anyone’s suspect list. A man with his reputation could never be too careful. His most valuable skill was moving through social circles around the world. If red flags popped up whenever he crossed an international border, his autonomy would be affected. He’d worked too many years to get where he was today—connected with a man of Henri Renouf’s stature.

He did not want this particular alias tarnished now.

“Joshua Benedict.” Reaching for her hand, he brought it to his lips, found that she tasted as feminine as she looked. “And you are….”

“Lindy Gardner.”

“Lindy.” He let the name roll off his tongue, liking the sound, sensuous and feminine like the woman herself.

He also liked the way she trembled when his breath burst over her skin. It was only a slight reaction, but Joshua had made a career out of noticing details.

This lovely lady’s shoulders quivered oh-so-gently. Her chest rose and fell on a quick breath.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” He released her hand, but to his surprise, she held on.

Her gaze slid from his. “Gloves, Joshua?”

“I was handling a sculpture.”

She stared down at their clasped hands with a smile playing at the edges of her mouth, a mouth that looked even more perfect for kissing up close.

She ran her thumb along the back of his glove. Just the sight of her fair skin against the fabric was so much more intimate than a touch should allow.

“They have some very beautiful pieces on display tonight,” she said.

“They do. But you couldn’t have toured the entire exhibit yet. Let me show you around.”

“I’d like that.”

Her acceptance was all he needed to make his move. Looping their arms together, he turned to lead her down the hall. Once inside the gallery, he would ply her with champagne then excuse himself to take care of business so he could return to the pleasure of making this lady’s acquaintance.

But as they reached the restrooms, Lindy came to a sudden stop. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

With his adrenaline still pumping, he couldn’t pinpoint what it was about Lindy that had his instincts on edge.

“What?” he asked.

Raising a slim finger, she pointed above their heads, directly at his digital imaging device.

One small gesture and Joshua had his explanation. As usual, his instincts were on target—this woman was a lot more than a pretty lady in a white dress.

Following her gaze to the security camera, he said, “Well, that doesn’t look like it belongs there, does it?”

“Sure doesn’t.”

“What makes you think that device belongs to me?”

“Simple arithmetic.”

“As in two plus two equals four?”

She inclined her head so the exit light threw fiery highlights onto her hair. “The usher couldn’t confirm where you’d gone, so I guessed you’d given him the slip. And you weren’t wearing gloves when you left the gallery, so that would mean you were handling a sculpture where…? On the stairs? Another gallery on another floor? I don’t believe the loo factored at all, and I’m not generally wrong.”

No, there was nothing wrong with Lindy Gardner except that she was toying with him.

“Are you trying to pin something on me?”

“Do I hear an emphasis on trying?”

He laughed. “How do I know you didn’t plant that device to frame me?”

“You don’t.” She glanced at her watch then back up at him, the smile twitching around her mouth again. “I will say I’m very impressed, though. Given my calculations, which began when you left the gallery, you placed that device on the security camera at least nine minutes ago. I’ve just chewed up another two chatting, which puts you at eleven minutes give or take. You won’t want to leave that device behind because you know as well as I do when security discovers it, they’re going to run the guest list. You won’t want to be called in for questioning whether or not they can pin the goods on you.”

“So, what impresses you?”

“That you haven’t broken a sweat yet.”

Joshua didn’t get a chance to respond because as he registered that tonight wasn’t the first time Lindy Gardner had heard his name, feminine laughter rang out in the hall behind them—women headed to the restroom.

“Think they’ll wonder what we’re doing down here?” Lindy asked.

“They’ll know what we’re doing.”

Her mouth pursed. “Really?”

“Really.”

In one move, he pinned her against the wall and brought his mouth down on hers.

Now it was Joshua’s turn to be impressed. Lindy didn’t react with surprise. She only exhaled a laugh that burst against his lips in a champagne-laced breath before her mouth yielded to his—soft, warm, arousing.

Definitely a kissing mouth.

Lips parted. Breaths collided. Tongues tangled, leaving Joshua the one feeling impressed and surprised. By the way Lindy threw herself into the moment, sliding her arms around his neck and pressing all those lush curves against him.

And by the way his body reacted. His pulse rushed. His blood crashed south so fast the sensation made him deepen their kiss just to share her air.

If Lindy’s mouth had been made for kissing, the woman herself was all about making love.

Their bodies aligned perfectly. With her face tipped upward, her mouth fitted his just right for this soul-dragging kiss. She toyed with his neck, fingers sliding into his hair and caressing places he hadn’t realized could feel intimate.

Feel intimate they did.

She was an enticing armful. Long, lithe, much more toned than her slim curves appeared at a glance, she possessed a strength that suggested an active lifestyle. Her smooth stomach caught what wanted to become an erection—this woman aroused him faster than he’d ever been aroused.

And he wasn’t the only one feeling the effects of their closeness. Something about Lindy’s swaying hips felt real. He didn’t think this was a performance. Another question to add to his growing list about this woman.

Was she a bold thief sent to trap him?

British…MI6?

Joshua only had one answer—he was in trouble here.

He’d stepped out of a stairwell, and life had taken an unexpected turn. He might not know who Lindy Gardner was yet…he might not know why they were fire together… but he damn sure recognized trouble.

It was kissing him full on the mouth right now.

By the time they finally broke apart, the intruding women had long since entered the restroom. In fact, for all Joshua knew, they might have come and gone. The only thing he was sure of was that his blood was pumping so hard he wanted to brace himself against the wall for support.

He would never let on that one kiss had leveled him.

“Excellent cover,” Lindy said breathlessly, drawing his gaze to her lips and that just-kissed look. “I’m impressed again, Joshua. You think fast on your feet.”

He was lucky to be standing on them.

“Thank you.”

She pointed up at the ceiling. “So we’re back to leaving that device there.”

“Does sound like a problem. I’m not sure for whom, though.”

She chuckled, a silky sound that filtered through the quiet hallway and drove another bolt of need home so he had to control an urge to pull her back into his arms.

“Your problem, Joshua, whether or not you admit it.”

“Guess we’ll never know. So what are we going to do? Will you let me tour you through the exhibit, so you can keep your eyes on me?”

“Actually, I’m going to rescue your cute bum.”

“Really?”

That had promise. A rescue wouldn’t be unwelcome, whether he admitted it or not. Joshua found himself both curious and pleased she thought his bum cute enough to save.

Now to find out who she was and what she wanted….

LINDY STARED into Joshua’s face, into an expression that revealed nothing. He was even more attractive up close, impossibly attractive with that dashing smile and those broad shoulders. She wondered if his appearance accounted for the way she felt right now, all fluttery and so off-kilter she might have been crossing the deck of a boat in dodgy weather.

All from a kiss?

Apparently. Everything about her still felt keenly aware of this man. Adrenaline made her blood hum, threw her senses into overdrive, a feeling she knew well—a familiar sense of danger.

But Lindy stood inside a quiet hallway of a museum, a highly trained agent of the Crown, perfectly capable of defending herself should this man attempt anything funny. Not to mention that there was an usher and a gallery filled with philanthropists all within yelling distance.

So where exactly was the danger?

Another glance into Joshua’s gaze, and Lindy decided her attraction to this man was the only thing dangerous around here.

She wasn’t the only one feeling the attraction, either. Joshua’s oh-so-affable expression might not let her see what he was thinking, but she knew a real reaction when she felt one. There’d been no missing the bulge of his crotch while they’d kissed.

Chemistry—it changed everything.

Dragging her gaze from his, she helped herself to one of his hands and peeled away his glove.

“Quite handy.” Slipping her fingers inside, she gauged the roomy fit. The man’s hands were as large and attractive as the rest of him. “Will you lift me?”

He arched an inky-black eyebrow. “Lift you?”

Lindy knew he understood, but played along. Joshua obviously wanted to cover himself to give her nothing to implicate him since he didn’t know who she was.

She couldn’t blame him. Caution was a prized commodity even on her side of the law. Caution often meant the difference between anonymity and exposure, sometimes the difference between life and death.

Grabbing a fold of her gown, she aimed a foot his way, letting the fabric part to reveal a long stretch of hose-clad leg and a sandal.

“It’s these strappy shoes.” She displayed the shoe as his gaze followed appreciatively. “I won’t be able to brace myself, but if you give me a boost, I can reach.”

He didn’t reply, but suddenly his hands were around her waist, a move that told her so much about the man. Aggressively agile. Ruthlessly honed physical condition. Strong enough to haul her against him effortlessly.

For a breathtaking instant she could feel the hard outline of his body against hers again, and heat flooded her senses, a purely physical response that made every cell in her body yearn for another go at kissing him.

Almost before the thought registered, Lindy found herself spun around and hoisted off her feet. It took a conscious effort to remind herself she had a job to do—one that needed to be done with an ample level of skill.

Presumably, Joshua wouldn’t have needed to deceive the security camera if he’d had a connection inside the museum, someone who could have disabled this security zone.

This information prompted more questions about what he’d been up to tonight.

Operating alone?

Picking up a delivery or meeting with someone?

How was tonight’s event linked to his New York City visit?

Secret Intelligence hadn’t uncovered any evidence that Joshua Benedict was a thief and, as a result, Lindy believed he’d come to town exclusively to fix some trouble that had arisen with a recent auction-house theft.

She intended to find out, and to do that, she couldn’t let anything come between them. Especially not an imaging device that could place him in jeopardy with museum security and, subsequently, the local authorities.

This man was all hers.

So tracing the edge of the device, she tested the connection to the ceiling. Okay, she needed a fast and clean break to avoid creating a distortion on the live feed in the security monitoring station downstairs.

Gathering her focus, Lindy blocked out the feel of his hands on her waist, the way he easily lifted her off the floor.

She ignored the feel of her bottom brushing against all his hard tummy muscles and how her panty hose and dress didn’t protect her from his body heat.

This man was one big distraction.

With brutal precision, Lindy trapped the device between her fingers and pulled it away in a hard, clean stroke.

“Got it.”

“Impressive,” he said, but she couldn’t be sure whether he meant her work or herself as he lowered her to the floor, treating her to a tour of his every body part along the way.

Sliding against him in a prolonged and very tantalizing move, Lindy tried to sound casual when she said, “Thanks.”

“Pleased to be of service. So tell me, Lindy. What are you going to do with that device now you’ve got it?”

Good question. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a good answer—yet. So she leaned close to stay out of camera range and forced him back another step before turning to meet his gaze.

A very approving gaze.

An interested gaze.

A gaze that made her rethink her point of entry.

This man was Henri Renouf’s fixer, a man who used his talents to manipulate situations to the bad guys’ advantage. They had too much chemistry to ignore, chemistry she might use to gain his cooperation.

“I’ve got a plan.” A bold plan. One that involved smoothing her way to his cooperation with seduction.

“Do you, Lindy?”

“Always.” Dropping the device into her evening bag, Lindy peeled off the glove and returned it. “Thanks.”

He hid the gloves away in a jacket pocket. Then he extended his hand. “The gallery. Shall we?”

Securing her evening bag on her shoulder, she let him lead her down the hall. She had some quick decisions to make. First she must decide how best to dispose of her new electronic acquisition. She couldn’t be certain what Joshua had been up to and didn’t want to be caught with the goods.

She knew there would be nothing to incriminate him on the small device. He was far too skilled to be careless—far too cool when he had to be burning up with questions about who she was and why she was covering him.

Then she had to decide how to play this man. Physical awareness had changed things between them, given her a new weapon in her arsenal, and she had to decide whether or not to use it.

The man lived up to his profile as a charming host. They’d barely set foot inside the gallery before he plied her with champagne and grilled her about what exhibits she’d like to see. He was oh-so-cool, and she was determined to be as impressive.

She motioned across the gallery. “I overheard that woman wearing the ostrich feathers mention a vase with depictions of Eros and Gaea.”

“You mentioned Eros earlier. Are you interested in early mythology?”

“No. Just Eros.” She gazed up at him from under her lashes, a flirtatious glance she hoped would pique his curiosity and get them to the end of the buffet table.

Her gracious host led her toward the display asking, “What specifically about Eros interests you?”

“Lust and passion, of course. What do you think of them, Joshua?”

“I’m interested in attraction, too. It can happen when and where you least expect it.” He reached out and dragged his thumb along her cheek, a bold touch that she felt straight to her toes. “Did you know in early mythology, Eros was about the force attracting two people to each other? It wasn’t until later myths that he was Aphrodite’s son and represented lust and passion.”

“Did you research for tonight’s event or is Greek mythology a hobby of yours?”

“Let’s say I take a great deal of pleasure in learning and use every opportunity to do so.”

No doubt research was an important part of his work. “Very diplomatic.”

He raised his champagne flute in salute then brought the glass to his lips. Their gazes locked over the rim, and Lindy raked hers from the top of his expensive haircut over the terrain of his handsome face.

But she didn’t stop there. Oh, no. When she considered how he’d finagled an invitation to tonight’s gala from one of the Ladies Who Lunch—a woman well known for her philanthropy—Lindy decided subtle wasn’t in this man’s vocabulary.

So she perused the tailored collar of his Egyptian cotton shirt then the sleek lines of his tux. The jacket draped those broad shoulders to perfection before descending to the trim V of his waist. She’d felt all those hard muscles up close, so the fact he was yummy shouldn’t keep surprising her.

Somehow it did. Or maybe that was the strength of her attraction to him.

“Tell me, Lindy, whose guest are you tonight? I don’t recall seeing you with any of our hosts and you haven’t said.”

“No, I haven’t said.”

“Top-secret information?”

“Not really.”

“Would you like me to guess?” he asked.

“Are you fishing?”

“I like to fish. That’s no mystery.”

“No, it isn’t.”

He appeared to consider that. “I’m also not very patient.”

“Is that a warning?”

His dark gaze twinkled, but Lindy didn’t answer when the opportunity she’d been looking for appeared. She needed to seize chance before it got away.

Setting her flute on the buffet table, she helped herself to several wedges of foie gras. Bypassing the plates, she grabbed napkins and popped the wedges into her mouth whole.

Joshua watched her curiously. “Hungry?”

Since her mouth bulged with a delicacy she truly despised, she couldn’t do more than shake her head and try not to dwell on the creamy, meaty texture coating her teeth and tongue.

Joshua waited as if sensing something was coming then glanced absently at the server serendipitously making his way from behind the buffet table with a full trash bag.

Lindy made a gagging sound, loud enough to draw the server’s attention. Dragging the napkin over her mouth, she spat out her nasty mouthful.

“Foie gras. Looked like some sort of hummus.” She pulled a face then pointed to the trash bag. “May I, please?”

“Vegan, don’t you know?” Joshua added, and she could see he fought back a smile.

The server eyed them grimly and held out the bag. Stuffing the napkins deep in the debris, she hoped the regurgitated goose liver would deter anyone from inspecting the mess.

“Thanks ever so much.”

The server took off, and once he was out of earshot, Joshua laughed, a deep lustrous sound that sent prickles through her.

“I assume that device you took from the hall just made an exit.”

She only smiled, which he clearly took to mean yes.

“Nicely done, Lindy. Inventive, clever and clean. I believe the owner of that device is in your debt.”

“I certainly hope so.”

“Do you?”

She retrieved her flute and fought the urge to gargle away the nasty taste. “I do.”

“Why?”

Lindy considered her answer while considering the man. Cool, yet curious. Displaying the exact right mix of persistent and pushy. She appreciated how fine a line that was.

“I want something from you.”

“What?”

Deciding that nothing short of a toothbrush would clean away the aftertaste, Lindy relinquished her champagne flute. “Let’s find some place private.”

He didn’t hesitate but led her away from the buffet. They made their way through the crowds, forced to stop several times as he greeted acquaintances. He was as charming as his profile suggested, and as he introduced her to people he’d obviously socialized with before, she observed how this man had become so successful at running his game.

He was likable and knew exactly how to place people at ease. Some he let lead the conversation. With others he directed. He was a veritable social chameleon, and that was a skill Lindy knew came in handy.

They ultimately wound up inside the bisected glass walls of a timeline display of classical Grecian antiquities, and she glanced around as Joshua led her forward.

“Perfect.” They would be able to hear approaching guests before being happened upon.

“So you’re finally going to end my suspense?” Folding his arms across his chest, Joshua eyed her expectantly.

“From what I’ve heard, you like suspense.”

“Heard from whom?”

“My agency.”

“MI6?”

Lindy feigned a pout. “You guessed?”

“Simple arithmetic.”

A man with Joshua’s specialized skills would recognize hers. From there her accent would make an equation of two plus two equaling an answer that wouldn’t be difficult to guess.

“What does your agency want with me, Lindy?”

Rising up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear, she pressed so close that her breasts brushed his arm.

“We don’t actually want you.”

He inhaled, a sound that was the second honest reaction she’d gotten from him tonight.

Their kiss had been very honest.

“What do you want then?”

“We want Renouf. We want you to give us everything you have on him.”

“If I had anything on him, why would I give it to you?”

“Because…” She let her words trail off for dramatic effect. “My agency can provide you with a new identity and a well-heeled life outside the organized crime world.”

3

RIGHT UP FRONT Joshua saw problems with Lindy’s offer. All of them his. Staring into her eyes—into green and gold lights sparkling in the glow of the Classical Antiquities display—he tried to guess the thoughts behind her mysterious gaze.

Lindy had to be playing him. MI6 couldn’t easily extricate him from his world. Men like Henri were not only meticulous at choosing their associates, but also at eliminating them when they no longer served a purpose. Joshua had made himself invaluable so elimination never became an issue.

Lindy made her deal sound like a one-off, but a new identity meant paying for the privilege. MI6 might start with wanting everything Joshua had on Renouf, but there would always be someone else they wanted information on. And they would know he had the resources to get them what they wanted.

Joshua had no illusions about how government agencies operated, and they weren’t squeamish about breaking the rules. Especially intelligence agencies. They conducted as many illegal operations as the bad guys, but frankly, Renouf and his associates paid better.

Which was Joshua’s next problem with the deal.

Until he discovered exactly what MI6 had on him, he wouldn’t know how to handle Lindy.

The fact that she’d shown up at this function proved she knew more than she should. How much more remained the question.

“What makes you think I know Renouf?” he asked.

She gave a sultry smile. “I’m having déjà vu. Didn’t we have this conversation in the hall?”

“Where you failed to prove complicity on my part.”

“I wasn’t trying to prove complicity. I was proving a point. Several actually.”

“I got the obvious. You’re following me, and you’re clearly not just a pretty lady in a fancy dress. What did I miss?”

“The olive branch. I solved your little problem to prove I was acting in good faith.”

“What does your agency want with Renouf?”

“We believe he has been funding the thefts of various relics from British museums and Royal residences. We’ve found connections that go back decades. The man’s a menace. An extremely dangerous one.”

“I’ll have to take your word.”

Lindy only smiled.

Great. This was a no-win situation if ever he’d seen one. Renouf was obsessed with expanding his private art collection, and Britain had every right to be pissed about its lost relics. Joshua was caught squarely between them—he even had the White Star burning a hole in his pocket to prove it. While not originally a British relic, the amulet had spent a good century in England.

“Answer a question,” he said. “If you think I can connect you to Renouf, why did you choose tonight to make contact?”

“I received a tip you were coming to town to conduct business here in Manhattan.”

He’d have loved to know where that tip had come from. “Business at the museum? Were you thinking entrapment?”

She shook her head, sending wisps of light-brown hair around her cheeks and neck. He could see the pulse beat low in her throat, the tempo steady. Whatever else might be happening, he wasn’t rattling Lindy, which meant she thought she had the upper hand.

“Why tonight?”

“All right.” She exhaled a tiny sigh that closed the distance between them. “I’ve been briefed on you, Joshua, and I have to admit I’m impressed. You’ve led me on a merry chase since I started following you.”

He couldn’t tell if she thought he’d known he was being tailed. He hadn’t, unfortunately.

“So what did I do to lead you on a merry chase?”

“Well, tracking you to the Piazza Hotel wasn’t any trouble, of course. But you spent your first day in town inside the hotel. I couldn’t get close to you while you were inside your room, but there was that lunch in the bar. You took a call on your cell phone. A secured line.”

She must have seen something in his expression because she waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t look so surprised. I happen to be very thorough.”

Damn straight. “How did you know I’d be here tonight?”

“You came out of your room today.”

He swallowed back a relieved breath. His first day in town had been spent arranging to have the White Star stolen from a police precinct property room, so Lindy had missed all the good stuff. Today he’d only arranged social events with acquaintances in an effort to legitimize his visit and provide cover for the White Star’s delivery.

“You followed me today.” Not a question. Let her think he was playing the game so she couldn’t confirm whether or not he’d known about his tail.

“Right to Lily Covington’s co-op. From there it was two plus two and all that. Since I know why you’re in town, I figured you were likeliest to take delivery during some busy social function. It seems to be your MO. I’m prepared to follow you wherever you go for however long it takes.”

Two things struck Joshua in that instant—that she claimed to know his business and that she thought he had an MO—something he’d worked hard not to establish.

“Take delivery? What do you think I’ve come to collect?”

“The White Star.”

He was too skilled to reveal his surprise, but with the amulet in discussion suddenly weighing heavily inside his pocket, Joshua felt the confines of this display—and this museum—as if the walls were closing in.

No matter how attracted he was to this woman, Joshua had zero reason to trust her.

Forcing a manner of calm he wasn’t close to feeling, he said, “Okay, Lindy. Obviously you think you have something, and you do—my attention. But I’m a businessman with connections to most of the people attending this event. Would you mind continuing this conversation elsewhere?”

“Not at all.”

He didn’t say another word while leading her from the gallery, without even bothering to pay his respects to Lily Covington. He’d send a gift tomorrow to make up for the slight, but right now he needed to clear his head and collect his thoughts to deal with the problem at hand.

The lovely lady strolling along by his side.

She was obviously very confident in her ability to defend herself because she left the museum and took to the streets with that pulse still keeping even time in her throat.

Of course, if MI6 had a file on him then she had backup—if anything happened to her, he would be the likeliest suspect.

Amazing how he could feel so hemmed in on all sides in such a huge city. Ironically, tonight was one of those classic New York nights from the movies. Lights from a million windows sparkled beneath a low-hung moon that cast the city in a star-drenched sheen.

Joshua remembered his first visit to New York—the clichéd kid from the sticks who’d been overwhelmed and impressed by everything. He could still recollect that first trip down Fifth Avenue…and the definitive moment when he’d decided to turn his life around. Ironic that he’d be back in the same city where he’d made that life-altering decision.

So how much of his career had MI6 documented?

Joshua had worked with many powerful men, but he’d allied himself exclusively to Renouf over the past few years for one simple reason—Henri had proven himself the most disciplined.

Joshua admired the man’s skill as a strategist and appreciated his caution. Those qualities had earned his respect, and in a career where risk was the name of the game, Henri’s qualities had lessened those risks dramatically.

Until now, at least.

Joshua had honestly never expected to hear Henri’s name pop out of Lindy Gardner’s pretty mouth. Not that he would let her see his surprise. She already had enough of an advantage without him helping her out.

“Tell me about the White Star,” he asked as they passed under a street lamp.

“I was hoping you’d tell me.”

“To do that I’d have to know something about it.”

“Back to complicity again?”

“So it would seem.”

“Do you deny knowing Henri Renouf?”

“I’m a businessman, Lindy. So is Henri. We’ve done business from time to time. No mystery there. Don’t tell me you didn’t know that already.”

She shrugged, keeping her secrets as close as he kept his. The light of a streetlamp bathed her in a golden glow, another glimpse of this woman he suspected wore many guises, the woman who had changed his life.

No matter how this situation played out, Lindy had changed everything with her investigation. An international tail, even a gorgeous one, was the kiss of death to a man in his position.

Checking his pace, Joshua switched direction. The Star-bucks on the corner was still serving coffee at this hour, but he found himself lured by the night quiet and the sight of the stars glimmering overhead.

Leading Lindy to a nearby bus stop, he motioned to a bench and waited until she sat before settling beside her. He hooked his hands on his knees and stared into the street.

“Why did they assign you this case?” he asked.

“Because I’m good.”

That much he knew already. Lindy sure as hell shouldn’t have known where to find him tonight. Not when he hadn’t even known where he’d take delivery until after visiting Lily Covington this afternoon.

Lindy shouldn’t have known he’d be in New York.

As frequently happened in his business with Henri, the situation with the White Star had arisen unexpectedly. A call on a secure line had signaled Joshua that an acquisition had gone bad in the States, which had come as a surprise.

Henri had worked with Jean Allard before, and the thief had always proven efficient and reliable. Perhaps there was something to the White Star’s curse after all.

Allard had been cursed—by old-fashioned greed.

He’d held on to the amulet and upped his price. Henri had promptly sent in a hit man to deal with the thief. Then he’d sent Joshua to retrieve the amulet.

“What exactly do you want to know about the White Star?” Lindy asked.

“Anything you can tell me.”

“It’s an interesting piece. I’d never heard of it before. Seemed a little tame for Renouf, so when we got word he was connected to its theft from a high-end auction house, I wasn’t convinced my intel was accurate.”

“What convinced you?”

“You did.”

Joshua responded with a noncommittal nod. “You’re not accusing me of stealing, are you?”

“Of course not. The local authorities found the thief floating in the East River. They’re calling his death a random murder. You and I know better, don’t we?”

“Do we?”

She nodded patiently. “We do. The White Star’s theft went pear-shaped, and you’re here to pretty things up so the trail doesn’t lead from the thief to the man who hired him—Renouf.”

“Are you accusing me of murder?”

“Your arrival doesn’t coincide with the time of death, so you’re out of the running for that crime.”

“How convenient for me.”

“Very.” Her sultry eyes narrowed and she grew tense around the edges. “What I don’t know is where the White Star is now. The local authorities obtained the amulet from the bank’s security guard, but it seems to have disappeared from the precinct property room, where it was being held as evidence. I’ve questioned the officer associated with the case. He doesn’t have a clue. But you’re here, Joshua, so I did the math. Your appearance summed up the situation nicely.”

Unfortunately, it did, which meant this woman wasn’t bluffing. “Why do you think Henri Renouf wants the White Star if it’s not his typical fare?”

“You tell me. You know the guy.”

Joshua didn’t expect the question, didn’t expect her to admit she didn’t know. Lindy wasn’t playing this game the way he would expect an agent to play, and that kept throwing him. Her deal threw him—whether it was real or a double play. And then there was the disappointment he felt because she was turning his life upside down to get to Henri.

Would he rather she had chased him down that hallway because she’d been interested in him?

The thought almost made him laugh. He wasn’t normally sentimental. But this woman seated beside him provided a very beautiful reminder that tonight wasn’t normal by any stretch.

“I don’t know why Henri Renouf would want the White Star,” he said. “I don’t really care. I’m more interested in knowing why you think I’m involved in all this.”

She turned to face him. The light spilled onto her features, detailing her mouth and reminding him of the way she’d felt against him when they’d kissed.

“Took me days to brief on you,” she admitted wryly.

“Is that a long time?”

She nodded. “Had to wade through a boatload of circumstantial evidence from MI6, Interpol and a few other international agencies you’ve probably heard of.”

“When did they start looking at me?”

“About six months ago.”

They’d been an active six months. Joshua had masterminded the heist of a classical manuscript in Vienna and fixed situations on three continents. In between, he’d helped design and approved the blueprints on one jewel of a boat.

“What if you’ve got the wrong man, Lindy? I told you I’ve done occasional business with Renouf. What’s to stop me from picking up the telephone and making a courtesy call?”

She didn’t flinch, and her confidence impressed him. “I don’t have the wrong man.”

“What if I refuse to cooperate?”

“I’m authorized to threaten you. I can bring you in and use our evidence to build a case against you.”

“Think you have enough to prosecute?”

“No. Just enough to trash your reputation and drive you underground. My agency is hoping you’d rather deal than live as an international fugitive.”

A slave to MI6 or a life on the run.

“Mmm. That’s a tough one. I thought you said the whole point was not letting Renouf know you’re interested in him.”

She laughed. “Ideally. In my business, we don’t always achieve the ideal. You’re our best-case scenario. We’ve devoted a lot of man hours to tracking your movements over the past six months. If you won’t deal then we move on to plan B—eliminating you from the game. You’re valuable to Renouf. It’ll take him time to replace you. That will shake things up, slow down operations and make him more vulnerable. We’ll flush out someone else who’s willing to talk.”

“Sounds like you’ve got all the angles covered.”

“So what’s the problem then? Why aren’t you negotiating terms yet?”

He debated telling her that he didn’t believe her, but he’d rather wait and see what she’d do to try and convince him.

The bottom line was that she’d compromised him. The instant Henri discovered MI6 had Joshua on their radar, he would become a liability. Henri would send a hit man to eliminate the problem, the way he’d eliminated Allard.

Which meant Joshua was on a time limit to figure out what to do about Lindy and her alleged deal.

Henri was expecting delivery of the White Star immediately, which didn’t leave Joshua much room to maneuver. But he couldn’t hand over the amulet with Lindy on his tail, and given this turn of events, he wasn’t even sure he wanted to.

Rubbing his temples to soothe the ache starting there, he stared at a car that sped past, tires chewing up the street and echoing off the buildings. There had to be some way to work this situation to his benefit. But he couldn’t figure out how until he knew what he wanted the outcome to be.

Lindy’s investigation meant someone would be served up to MI6. Did he want to risk his life and freedom to protect Henri’s interests? Of all the questions he’d been faced with tonight, he actually had an answer for this one.

No.

While Joshua had learned much under Henri’s tutelage, they were business associates. Friendly ones, true, but Joshua felt no loyalty to Henri, expected none in return.

Fortunately, problem-solving and cleaning up messy situations happened to be Joshua’s specialty.

This situation was a mess. The timing was bad, and he was more vulnerable than Henri at the moment. But there would be a way to turn things around to his advantage.

Joshua just had to find it.

LINDY COULDN’T REMEMBER the last time she’d hung on to a man’s every word—had she ever hung on to a man’s every word?

She didn’t think so, but she was hanging now.

Perhaps it was being in such close proximity to an extremely attractive man. Every time one of them moved, they touched—their shoulders, their hips, their thighs. Slight touches with electrifying effects. She found it hard to stay focused.

Perhaps she was challenged because she had no idea what question would pop out of Joshua’s mouth next, or how she would reply. She’d come to New York City to conduct surveillance and figure out how to get close to this man, but she hadn’t expected chemistry. She was flying by the seat of her pants, as the Americans would say.

Or maybe she could credit her unprofessional reaction to the fact that so much hinged on gaining Joshua’s cooperation. Her entire career had gotten tangled up with getting close enough to Renouf to bring him in.

But whatever the reason for her hyperawareness of this man, Lindy found the experience invigorating.

Challenges always invigorated her.

“What’s it going to take to convince you to cooperate?” she asked. “Another show of faith? Or do you want more proof—shall I ring one of my superiors so you can chat?”

She could just imagine what Malcolm Trent, her direct superior, would have to say to this fellow.

“I don’t want to talk with your superiors.”

With his chin braced on clasped hands, Joshua inclined his head enough to face her. A fluorescent bulb behind pitted plastic cast his features in a glow that did nothing to diminish his startling good looks. His gaze captured hers, and that hum she’d felt since their kiss, an awareness that had ebbed and flowed on her internal tide, surged yet again.

“Joshua, I understand I’ve placed you in an awkward position—”

“Only if I’m the man you’re looking for.”

Inclining her head, she conceded the point even though she knew MI6 only had an infinitesimal percentage of this man’s career on paper. No one got to be as accomplished in the field as Joshua Benedict without years of experience.

She knew that firsthand.

“Talk to me. What’s it going to take to get you to deal?”

“I still need…convincing.”

Convincing. Well, she hadn’t expected this man to roll over, had she? To tell the truth, she’d have been disappointed if he’d proven an easy mark. But she hadn’t expected him to look quite so yummy when he was wheedling, either.

“Convincing, hmm?” She willed her thoughts to behave. “About my integrity? About my agency’s intentions?”

“That my future’s in good hands.”

There were several places Lindy could take that statement, but with his deep voice resounding in the late-night quiet and his gaze steady, the only place she wanted to take it would place their attraction square on the table.

Lindy had always been a risk taker, so she sidled around and leaned toward him until they were face to face, so close she could make out the stubble on his cheeks, a shadow that contrasted with his hair.

The move threw sex between them as surely as if she’d flashed a neon sign. And the arrogant man only held her gaze, searching for something. The truth, perhaps, because he didn’t strike her as needing reassurances.

“I told you what we’re offering. Don’t you believe me?” The least she could do was shoot for earnest here, or as earnest as she could for someone who was lying through her teeth.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you…of course, I’m not saying I do believe you.”

“Of course.”

A smile appeared, twitching as if he was trying to hold it back. A good sign. He had such an attractive mouth, one that made it difficult not to remember his kiss.

She suspected his thoughts must be traveling a similar path because he closed the distance between them. Suddenly she could catch the scent of his aftershave on the night air—that hint of spicy fragrance and masculine ambrosia.

“To accept your deal, I’d have to trust your abilities, Lindy. And your agency’s.” His voice was low and sexy, drawing attention to their proximity.

“We’ve been watching you for six months, and I followed you to New York. Doesn’t that count for something?”

“It’s the reason I’m sitting here.”

Absurdly, she wanted him to admit he was sitting here because he was as tempted by her as she was by him. It was a ridiculous thought that had no place in her head while she was working. Yet with his confident statement ringing in her ears and the brush of his warm breath on her lips, her reactions were physical, distracting, real.

“You’ll have plenty of chances to take my measure, Joshua. I plan to stick to you like glue.”

“You can try.”

There was emphasis on try again, but she deemed it time to move past try. His mouth hovered against hers, a prelude to a kiss.

She was through trying to tempt him.

He seemed to be waiting, taking her measure, perhaps, or seeing what she’d do next. Sliding her hands into his lapels, she dragged him into their kiss, rewarded when his breath caught audibly.

It was odd at first. She’d kissed all sorts of men before, but lovers, never strangers, and never one of the bad guys.

But now she kissed him.

Lindy had always found control a liberating thing, and that feeling apparently ran to kissing bad guys, too. Slanting her mouth across his, she coaxed his lips wide with her tongue, savored the erotic taste of moist warm breath, felt challenged to make him respond.

He’d kissed her in the museum hallway as cover, but she kissed him now because she couldn’t resist. All this awareness happening between them was simply too delicious to ignore, too intense. She liked that she had this unexpected attraction to add weight to her cause. Almost as much as she liked kissing Joshua Benedict.

Almost as much as she liked him kissing her back.

Remembering the cathedral, Lindy wondered if she shouldn’t light her own candle.

Attraction this strong could only mean trouble.

And he proved the notion by raising a hand to touch her. She wanted him to go for the kill, to reach for her breasts, which were within easy range. Could he tell her nipples had gone all peaky or did her dress hide the evidence?

He dragged his fingers up her throat, a touch that felt more intimate than a bolder touch might have. Especially when he arched her neck so he could deepen their kiss.

Thrusting his tongue inside her mouth for a warm stroke, he took the lead with an assurance that rolled her insides as if they were as gooey as that first melting bite of a fresh-from-the-oven brownie.

She sank against him, caught up in the feel of his hands on her, the power of their clashing breaths and tangling tongues. Who knew they’d be so hot together? The thought had certainly never occurred to her, not even when she’d been caught staring at him.

But all questions about reactions vanished beneath the thrill of the moment, the fire of their kiss. Lindy sensed the instant he was about to lose his control, felt the gathering of his muscles before his arms came around her with whipcord strength. Suddenly, she came up hard against him, feeling the difference between close and closer.

He surrounded her with his broad chest and strong arms. Her breasts crushed against his chest so she could feel the steady thumping of his heart. Sliding her arms around him, she hung on, unable to resist the warm, solid feel of him, the way his body seemed to tuck around her in all the right places.

It was a moment that chased away all thoughts, all distractions. Indeed, how could work claim even a shred of her reason when excitement pulsed through her like a tide, when that soft place between her thighs grew warm?

Lindy arched against him and was rewarded when Joshua ground out a sound from low in his throat, a sound that assured her he was as caught up as she.

The night fell away, the city along with it, and not until a bus screeched to a halt directly in front of them did Lindy become aware of anything but the way her body sparked to life in contact with this man’s.

The bus doors hissed open with a whoosh, and Joshua and Lindy broke apart. She blinked stupidly as he disentangled himself and stood. He stared down at her, his dark gaze a caress, then he flashed a grin that was all satisfied male.

“I want to see what you’re made of, Lindy Gardner. If you can keep up with me, I might actually consider your deal.”

With that he turned and hopped onto the bus, leaving her staring at that cute bum as he strode up the stairs.

The doors shut with a whoosh. Joshua paid the fare and headed down the aisle as the bus lurched into motion again. Lindy watched it roll down the street in a gleam of red taillights, and she laughed, a sound that resounded through the late-night street.

“I’VE MADE CONTACT with our target,” Lindy said when the familiar image of her boss appeared on the high-definition notebook display.

Malcolm gave a curt nod, a gesture she knew translated into approval. “Care to share the details?”

“Not just yet.”

“Brief me.”

“We’re playing cat and mouse.”

“Care to define that? Just enough to assure me you’re the cat.”

“Meow.”

As her direct superior, Malcolm Trent ran Lindy’s life, and had since she’d completed her SIS training nearly a decade ago. On approach to his fiftieth birthday, he was a stoic man with black hair, who somehow managed to look younger than his age.

How he’d avoided graying while maneuvering the often-treacherous shoals between the Joint Intelligence Committee, the Ministry of Defence, the Government Communications Headquarters and outside agencies like Interpol was a mystery of incredible genetics as far as Lindy was concerned. Then again, Malcolm was good at his job with a knack for diplomacy. That knack had shot him up the ranks of SIS with impressive speed.

They shared a solid relationship, not always pleasant, but based on mutual respect, with a bit of indulgence on Malcolm’s part, as he’d been responsible for recruiting her from the police force in her home town.

Lindy shamelessly admitted to taking advantage of that indulgence sometimes. Like now when she didn’t admit to hedging her bets with Joshua Benedict. The boundaries could be liquid in her line of work—one of the reasons she liked her job. Malcolm set the parameters. She did what she felt necessary to accomplish her mission objective.

Bottom line: Malcolm wanted Renouf.

“He acquired the White Star,” she said.

“You got a confirm on that?”

She shook her head. “But I’d bet my Man U tickets. Everything adds up. The thief whom we believe stole the White Star from the auction house rented a security box in a local bank. He winds up a floater in the East River and the bank’s security guard is arrested for drunken and disorderly conduct, where the NYPD find an amulet in his possession. Suddenly our target shows up and the amulet disappears from the precinct property room. What would you surmise?”

“Sounds like you’ve been tailing him closely.”

“Closely, but not too closely. Didn’t want to scare him off. You said it yourself—he’s our only lead to the target.”

“Think he’ll take the bait?”

“I’m letting him put me through my paces. He wants to see what I’m made of.”

“Sure that’s the best way to handle him?”

Here was a place she could have admitted Joshua had thrown her a curve, too, but Lindy didn’t want to be directly responsible for Malcolm’s first gray hair. “Trust me. I’m playing him exactly the way he needs to be played. Let me do my job, so you’re free to do yours. Speaking of, you look tired. MOD giving you grief?”

“Afghanistan.”

That was all he had to say. The Ministry of Defence relied upon the intel from SIS to protect and serve, and with the rumor of ties between the United Kingdom and a new, potentially well-funded terrorist cell harbored in Afghanistan, the MOD had been applying pressure to produce the information needed to assess the threat.

“Anything I can do?”

“Bring me enough to build a case against Renouf. That’ll make folks around here smile again. For a while at least.” He forced his own smile.

Lindy nodded. Malcolm was right—catching Henri Renouf would soothe frazzled tempers. When British relics disappeared, more than art enthusiasts noticed. People took the thefts personally. The recovery of any artifacts, or bringing the man who’d funded the thefts to justice, would throw good light on their agency at a time when the public needed reassurance.

With political events shifting and terrorism breeding in some of the most unexpected global cubbies, a climate of uncertainty existed everywhere. There would be media attention on bringing in a man who’d eluded international capture for as long as Renouf had. He was exactly the sort of example the intelligence community needed right now to reassure the public that justice did indeed prevail.

Which was precisely why ending Renouf’s reign had become Lindy’s personal crusade.

He was also her example, a way to force a move up SIS ranks. For ten years, she’d been confined to the field. A series of lateral moves with more responsibility and freedom had kept her from running her own ops. Lindy had a theory about why.

Her field expertise was a double-edged blade.

Malcolm and his cronies relied on using her extensive connections to hunt down the bad guys. They relied on her to train new agents to become effective team players.

They relied on her to make them look good.

Lindy was good. Too good. And she loved working in the field. But field work consumed her life. She had no time for relationships. No time to spend with the friends who’d hung in there with her unpredictable schedule all these years. So few knew she was an agent of the Crown—with the covert nature of her work it was safer that way.

But as the years passed, safe was proving a damn isolated existence. She couldn’t have a relationship with a man that involved more than a few dates. Hell, with the amount of time she spent away, she couldn’t even own a cat. She’d bought a corn plant, and frequently came home to find it looking droopy and sad from lack of attention.

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