“I don’t know that we do.” She glanced up from her screen. “What if the mastermind behind the attacks goes after someone else who has one?”
“Only if he . . . or she . . . can track the damn spoons where our research team has failed.”
“Willis said this person is influential. We don’t know what resources he has. I do know I’d like to find the inheritors before he does.”
Wyatt set the dishes in the sink. “I’ll leave you to it, then. And while you’re busy, I’ll call Rita and tell her your segment is a go so she can start planning production. I’m guessing she’ll want to do a piece on Dolley Madison to go with your interview. It’ll be your call how much of your family history you want to reveal.”
“I appreciate that.” Her chest tightened as she stared at him. “I won’t talk about my work on camera. That’s not an option.”
“I get that. Especially after today. What you do is obviously dangerous.”
“I’d like to focus on my mother and father, make the story a kind of tribute to them.”
“Rita will be fine with whatever approach you choose.”
With a nod, Talia curled up on the couch with her laptop and pulled up the basic facts on the remaining founding fathers. Of the five, John Jay had the fewest children. She’d start with him.
She was only vaguely aware of Wyatt speaking quietly on the phone, watching the late news, and then taking a shower. At some point, he fell asleep on her bed.
It was well after midnight when she got up to go to the bathroom and stopped by his side. His chest rose and fell in an even rhythm, and dark lashes fanned his cheeks. She wanted nothing more than to curl up beside him, but she wasn’t ready to give up her search yet. Instead, she turned down the lights, spread a blanket over him, and went back to her spot on the couch.
An hour later, she stared at a snapshot taken by a tourist, and her pulse quickened. A silver spoon rested next to a sugar bowl on the white tablecloth in John Jay’s recreated dining room at Bedford House, the residence belonging to the Supreme Court’s first chief justice. In front of the historic display, two bored-looking pre-teens stood on either side of a woman clutching a pamphlet in one hand and her purse in the other.
When she zoomed in, Talia could just make out a rose engraved on the spoon’s handle.
“Oh, my God. They actually have it on display.” She blinked tired eyes, wondering if she was seeing things. But the image didn’t disappear.
The photo had been posted on social media several years before, and none of the current pictures on the Bedford House website showed the spoon. Still, she was willing to bet it was there. Possibly put away in the sideboard just visible behind the table in the photo.
She closed her laptop and set it on the coffee table before crawling off the couch. Stretching cramped limbs, she glanced toward the bed. Wyatt hadn’t moved. She should let him sleep.
Almost against her will, her feet carried her to his side. After a moment, she sat on the edge of the mattress and rested one hand on his arm. His skin was warm beneath her fingers, and when he stirred, her stomach fluttered.
His eyes slowly opened and focused on her. “Hey.”
“Sorry to wake you, but I was about to burst with excitement.”
He pushed himself up against the pillows and cupped her knee in his palm as the blanket fell away. “Tell me.”
“I found John Jay’s spoon. It’s at Bedford House. That’s his old home in Katona, New York, which—”
“I’ve actually been there. I took a tour years ago.”
She smiled. “Then you might have seen his spoon in the dining room.”
“Incredible. How’d you find it?”
“Pictures on social media. The official photos showed only silverware with a stylized J, but I had a feeling . . .”
“You’re freaking amazing.” He yawned and stretched, his T-shirt riding up above his shorts to reveal a strip of tanned, bare skin. “What time is it?”
Talia forced her gaze upward. “Almost two. We can make plans to either drive or fly down to New York in the morning.” She tried to slide off the bed, but he held tight to her knee. “I should have let you sleep.”
“Like hell. I’m in your bed.”
“You don’t have to get up. If you don’t mind sharing . . .”
“You’re kidding, right?” He pulled her down beside him and wrapped his arm around her before flipping the blanket over them both.
Despite the layers of clothing they both wore, her heart beat faster, and she let out a shuddering sigh as she settled into his warmth.
“You’re clearly spent.” He pressed a kiss against her hair. “Go to sleep.”
She rested her cheek on his chest and breathed in his clean scent. “At this point, I’m not good for much else. Tomorrow . . .”
* * * *
Wyatt woke with Talia still sound asleep in his arms. A smile curled his lips as he rested his chin on her soft hair. She wore a pair of leggings and a thin T-shirt, and her arm rested across his bare stomach where his shirt had ridden up. His body reacted in a predictable fashion. He could try to move and risk waking her, or stay where he was, tortured by her tempting nearness.
The best sort of torture.
When she stretched and pushed her hair out of her eyes, the decision became moot. Rolling slightly to look up at him, her thigh brushed his erection, and her eyes widened.
He cleared his throat. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
He told himself to get his ass out of the bed. To not push her. But his body seemed incapable of moving. The good news was she didn’t appear to be in a hurry to go anywhere.
“I was too tired last night to think about waking up this morning.” Her breath caressed his throat. “You’re a tough man to resist, Wyatt Stone.”
He tightened his arms around her, bringing her into full contact. “I can’t exactly hide the way I’m feeling. But I can go take a cold shower, and we’ll take this slow, the way you wanted.”
Her dark eyes held a sultry glow. “Or you could stop talking and kiss me.”
He didn’t need a second invitation. Covering her lips with his, he lost himself in the kiss. She was warm and inviting in his arms, and he never wanted to let her go, but finally he was forced to come up for air. “Too many clothes.” His hand stroked up her bare back beneath her T-shirt.
“You’re right.” She jerked her top off.
His gaze lowered to her bare breasts, and he swallowed. “Oh, God.”
They scrambled feverishly to remove the last of their clothes, tossing them off the bed. When they were both naked, he slid over the top of her and rested his weight on both elbows. Bending, he dropped kisses across her face.
She moved restlessly, raking her nails down his back. When she wrapped her legs around his waist, his control dissolved.
“Jesus, Talia. I’m trying to make this last.”
She laughed softly. “Why, when we can just do it again?”
He groaned. “You’re killing me. I need to get protection before I lose my mind completely. My suitcase is somewhere around here.”
She kissed his neck, then moved lower to press her lips against his chest. His skin grew clammy as he fought for control. Gritting his teeth, he pushed away from her with trembling arms.
“Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.”
She smiled in a way that made his stomach preform a few acrobatics as he crouched on the floor beside his bag. While he was looking for his shaving kit and praying there were still a few condoms inside, his phone rang. And kept ringing. Ignoring it, he unzipped the kit and gave a victory salute.
“Success.” He held up two foil packets. Leaving his scattered belongings, he rose to his feet. Before he’d gone two steps, his cell began ringing again.
“Maybe you should see who’s calling. Whoever it is doesn’t appear to be giving up.”
Wyatt glanced toward Talia and then at his phone where he’d left it on the coffee table
next to her laptop. “Shit.”
She sat up and tucked the sheet around her. “It could be important.”
Detouring over to the table, he checked the screen and groaned before swiping to connect. “Morning, Bree. Sorry I didn’t call yesterday. Things have been . . . hectic.”
“That’s okay.” His daughter spoke in a rush. “I can’t find the field trip permission slip you said you signed. Where’d you put it?”
A frown drew his brows together. “In your backpack. At least I think I did.”
“Well, it isn’t there. Are you sure?”
His gaze swung to the bed when Talia threw back the covers and reached for her robe. Apparently, the phone call from his daughter had killed the mood.
“Dad!”
“Huh? Sorry. I’m not very awake. Why are you even out of bed at this hour? It’s barely past dawn there.”
“Because the bus for the trip leaves in less than an hour and I need that permission slip.” Her voice rose with each word.
“Uh, I might have left it in my office. I was a little distracted the morning I flew out.”
She let out an impatient sigh. “This is why I usually give important stuff to Mom. We’ll stop by the house on the way to school.”
“Sorry, Bree. My bad.”
“You’ve got that right. I’ll talk to you later.”
She hung up before he could respond, and he dropped his phone on the table. “Oops.”
Talia grinned. “Bad dad?”
“Apparently.” He approached her and rested his hands on her shoulders, now covered by a fuzzy robe. “Are we not doing this now?”
“Maybe the distraction was a good thing. I wasn’t thinking very clearly when I was cozied up in bed with you.”
“And now that you are thinking?”
“Sex complicates everything and leads to people getting hurt. Taking a little more time to get to know each other is smarter than letting our hormones lead the way.” She glanced downward. “Uh, do you want to put something on?”
He nodded and headed back to his suitcase to pull on a clean pair of boxers. When his phone rang again, he snatched it up without looking at the display. “Did I forget to do something else?”
A brief silence followed before a familiar female voice spoke. “Interesting greeting, Wyatt.”
Not Bree. He shot a glance toward Talia. Lindsey.
“I thought you were my daughter.” His tone was cautious. “How are you?”
“To be honest, lonely. I woke up early and was wondering when you get back from the East Coast.”
“I’m not sure. I’m headed to New York this morning. A work thing. My schedule will depend on how that goes.”
“Oh, yeah? Where in New York?”
He held the cell to his ear with his shoulder as he pulled on a pair of shorts. “Katonah. Listen, Linds. It was good to see you the other day and catch up, but I’m kind of involved with someone right now.”
Talia froze in place for a moment before continuing toward the kitchen. She headed straight to the coffee pot and filled it with water.
“I’m not looking for a relationship, for heaven’s sake. We’ve been down that road before, and it didn’t end so well. Is there a reason we can’t simply be friends? I could use someone to hang out with now and then.”
“Of course that isn’t a problem.” He squirmed uncomfortably, a T-shirt dangling from one hand. “How about if I call you after I get home.”
“Sure. Sorry to bother you.”
She sounded sad and hurt, and his conscience gave him a hard nudge. “You’re not a bother. I’ll call. Promise. We can have lunch or something.”
“That sounds good. Bye, Wyatt.”
He disconnected and tossed his phone onto the couch before facing Talia. “Sorry about that.”
“Maybe things between us are a little more complicated than I knew.” Her tone was cool. “Not that we’ve discussed exactly what’s going on here.”
He pulled on the T-shirt and walked toward her. Stopping inches away, he gently tipped her chin up to meet his gaze. “What’s going on is I like you. A lot. As you said, we’re getting to know each other better, and I, for one, am hoping something special comes from this.”
Her lips curved in a smile. “That’s a pretty good answer for someone who just made a date with his ex-girlfriend.”
“She wants to be friends. She’s a little lonely. That’s all it is.”
“Okay.”
He bent to kiss her, lingering when she returned the caress. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She nodded. “I’m not a control freak, but if we start sleeping together, I’m not fine with sharing. However, I get that we both have our own lives and friends.”
“When we start sleeping together, you won’t need to worry about me wanting any woman other than you.” He couldn’t stop a grin from spreading. “I already don’t want any woman but you.”
“That’s an even better answer.” She brushed her hand down his scratchy face. “Let’s get moving. We slept in, and it’s a fairly long drive to Katonah. I want to get there before the Bedford House closes.”
“You don’t want to fly?”
“I can work in the car while you drive. We’ll rent a car and drop it off once we know where we’re going after New York.”
His brows shot up. “Sounds like you’re all in on this search.”
“I am.” She stepped back and dumped the carafe full of water into the coffee maker. “If I’m going to take time off from work, I intend to make it count.”
“Speaking of work . . . I should call Gretchen and tell her to notify the entire crew there may well be a change in plans. If we find a spoon at Bedford House, I don’t want them flying back to California before we film another segment. I’m afraid some of them might have left already.”
“Who’s Gretchen?”
“Rita’s assistant. The woman who makes things happen.”
“You can talk to her while I cook breakfast.”
He caught her around the waist. “We make a good team, Talia.”
Standing on her toes, she kissed him. “I guess we do.”
Chapter Ten
“We have a problem, Dee.”
Senator Gamble glanced up from the papers on her desk when her advisor entered the office, shut the door behind her, and leaned against it. As usual, Jill was impeccably dressed in a linen suit without a hair out of place, but her expression was strained.
“A bigger problem than your man failing to find Talia Davis’s spoon?” A frown settled between her brows. “Hard to imagine what could possibly be worse.”
“I just got word another attempt was made to find the Davis woman’s spoon yesterday morning. The situation turned sideways and ended in a kidnapping and a shoot-out.”
Deirdre tightened her grip on her pen. “Did he succeed on his second try?”
“Apparently not since one of the idiots who grabbed Davis wound up dead. The other one is currently in jail. The thing is, I didn’t hire either of them.”
Her eyes widened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I have no idea who was paying those men. The police report I accessed stated that Hudson Willis was killed during Davis’s rescue. His cousin, Mick Willis, is in custody, but he doesn’t know much. The dead thug was the one running the show.”
“That’s unfortunate.” Deirdre took a few breaths, feeling as if her entire plan was unravelling faster than a loose thread. “Who the hell hired them?”
“I’ve put out feelers, but so far there hasn’t been a single rumor to investigate. Whoever else is after that spoon certainly isn’t talking about it.”
“What do we do now?” She dropped the pen, pushed back her chair, and rose to stare out the window at the steady flow of traffic below. “If someone other than Wyatt Stone gets to the other spoons before we do—”
“First of all, I suggest we back away from Talia Davis.” Jill’s tone was emphatic. “It’s too risky to
make another attempt on her now, and we have no clue where she put her spoon since it wasn’t in her apartment. It could be someplace inaccessible like a safe deposit box.”
“Your man couldn’t make her talk?”
“Turner didn’t have an opportunity to question her. He barely escaped arrest after that woman took him down. By the way, he demanded the payment I promised him and made it clear he was finished. Said Davis had Ninja Warrior skills, or some crap like that.”
Deirdre mouthed an obscenity then turned abruptly. “Have you had any luck tracing any of the other inheritors?”
“Nothing but dead ends. I called my contact in California, but—” Jill paused when her phone vibrated. She pulled it from her jacket pocket and checked the screen. “About time she got back to me.” She swiped to connect. “Did you learn anything new?”
Deirdre tapped her finger on her desk, waiting impatiently as her advisor barked out questions and listened intently to the responses. Finally, she disconnected. Color rode high in her cheeks.
“Well?”
“Stone isn’t going back to California. He’s headed to Bedford House in Katonah, New York.”
“Bedford House? I’ve never heard of it.”
“The home belonged to John Jay. Currently, it’s run as a museum.”
The Senator’s pulse quickened. “Stone believes one of the spoons is there?”
“Apparently so.” Jill typed rapidly on her phone. “I know someone who lives about an hour away. Someone who might be interested in lifting the spoon if the price is right.”
“Call him!”
“Her.” She glanced up. “I’m warning you, Dee. The woman won’t come cheap.”
“I don’t give a damn.” Dierdre clenched her hands into fists. “Pay her whatever she wants. Just get to that spoon before Stone does! My entire future is at stake.”
* * * *
President Cox strode across the tarmac toward Airforce One with his Chief of Staff at his side. The rest of the delegation flying to Saudi Arabia hung back. His shitty mood hadn’t escaped their notice, and even his Secret Service detail was keeping their distance.
Smart of them all since he’d sacrifice his left nut to unload all his pent-up rage on someone.
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