by Rae Rivers
The deal was simple—she wouldn’t rat them out if they didn’t mess with her clients and make her look bad. For them, it was all about how Alex would look should something happen to a client on her shift. They couldn’t possibly know it had far more to do with the moral dilemma their heists created within her.
“Who’s involved in this?” Alex demanded.
“I haven’t stepped on your shit so back the hell off.” He pushed past her, uncomfortable with her intense scrutiny, and Alex saw the flicker of resignation in his eyes. “After you left the other day, I started asking around, but I didn’t get much on the gig at Cole’s.”
“So what did you get?”
“Word on the street is that there’s a big demand for a crap load of paintings with mega dough to back it. Cats are going crazy.”
“What paintings?”
“I don’t have the details. When I heard they were pulling into your shields, I backed out. That’s all I know.”
“Can you find out then?”
“I can try, but that doesn’t mean they’ll tell me.”
“Why are they suddenly marking my shields?”
He regarded her in silence, hesitation splashed across his face.
“Eddie?”
“Word is the job is bigger than you.”
Alex froze, trying to hide her surprise. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that the amount of money offered far outweighs any repercussions they might get from you.”
The weight of uneasiness settled in her gut and she grimaced. “Shit, Eddie. What the hell’s going down?”
He shrugged. “I wish I knew. I’ll ask around again and let you know if I hear anything. They’ll be tight lipped with their info, but I’ll try.”
Alex mustered a weak smile. “Thanks. Call me as soon as you know the score.” She walked to the kitchen door and turned to look at him. “Have you heard from my mother yet?”
“No. Not a word.”
“Can you ask around about her too? It’s been a while.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I will.”
“Thanks.” Alex let herself out, her mind racing, her shoulders sagging with tension.
****
Alex slipped out of Max’s office and headed for the elevator. The wound in her side had started to ache again, and she longed to get home and swallow another painkiller.
And see Cole.
Before she could process that thought, the elevator doors opened to heated voices in the lobby and Alex realized her day was about to get worse.
“You!” Vera screeched as she saw Alex. “You did this!”
Alex looked at the enraged woman for a moment. “Vera, calm down. You’re embarrassing yourself.” Several people had stopped in the lobby and were staring.
“I want to see my husband!”
Alex stepped forward. “Your ex-husband, dammit. You two are divorced. You’ve been divorced for months. Leave him the hell alone.”
Vera waved a finger in her face and glared at her with crazy eyes. “You only want him for yourself, you bitch.”
Vera was out of control and Alex felt a shiver of apprehension run down her spine. Glancing at the two security guards awaiting further instruction from her, she took Vera’s arm. “Vera, you’re making an ass of yourself.”
“Let me go!” Vera screamed and yanked her arm back.
The instant Alex nodded at the two guards, they closed in on Vera, taking a hold of each arm. Protesting loudly, she reeled back, broke free with one arm, and swung her bag at Alex. Her reflexes in top form, Alex quickly stepped back, the bag missing her, but the big, sharp buckle hanging from a piece of leather caught her eyebrow.
The guards scrambled to contain Vera again, but in the scuffle, she broke free and rushed forward.
Vera hit Alex with a force that almost knocked her breath away and both women went flying to the ground. The knock that Alex sustained as her head hit the floor didn’t deter her, and she sprang into action as her survival skills kicked into force. In one swift movement, she flipped Vera onto her back and scrambled onto her chest. She shoved a knee on either side of Vera’s face, trapping both arms next to her head and paused, panting. Blood trickled down Alex’s cheek from the small slash above her eye. She ignored it and tried to get a grip on her anger.
“Get off me!” Vera snapped.
“If you ever, ever, touch me again, I’ll come back at you with a force that will rock your pathetic world.”
“You’re going to call the cops on me?”
Alex tightened her grip, leaned forward, and lowered her voice so only Vera could hear. “I’m not talking about the cops, Vera. If you pull this on me one more time, I’ll bring an army of my men down on your head, you got me?” She moved back, her body seething with rage at the woman beneath her. “Now leave me the hell alone and stop harassing your ex-husband.” She climbed off the stunned woman and looked down at her. “You need to move on, Vera. This kind of crap is not good for you and you’re going to end up killing someone.”
Vera stumbled to her feet and gathered her handbag. “You’ll pay for this, Alexis. You’ll pay for what you’ve done to me.” With a final glare at Alex, she stormed out the door.
Alex touched her cheek, ignoring the sudden murmurs that erupted at Vera’s hasty departure. She heard her phone ringing and glanced around in search of her bag. One of the security guards approached her, looking at her with a mixture of concern and open admiration, and handed her the ringing bag.
Alex dug out her phone as it switched to voicemail. Cole. She dialed her messages and listened, relieved when she heard his suggestion to meet at the townhouse rather than his office. With any luck, he wasn’t brewing for another argument. She’d had enough fighting for one day.
She touched her eyebrow and looked at her bloodied hand with a frown. Another gash. Now she really needed that painkiller.
Alex headed for the awaiting limo that one of the security guards had organized for her and slipped inside with a grateful nod. She thought about the friction she’d experienced in the last week and wondered if she happened to be fighting with the world or if the world happened to be fighting with her.
Either way, she seemed to be at loggerheads with everyone.
Chapter Fourteen
Cole hung up the phone in his home office, disconnecting the call, and sank into his leather chair with an irritated grunt. His negotiations with Barry Jenson had reached a deadlock, and he was fast approaching the point of withdrawing his offer on the Californian hotel. As charming as it was, he had far bigger projects competing for his attention. If only Barry was as dedicated to selling his hotel as he was to buying Cole’s townhouse.
The sound of a car pulling up outside chased away all thoughts of Barry Jenson and an unfamiliar feeling of relief and anticipation replaced Cole’s previous frustration.
Alex was back.
He smiled at the thought and sat back in his chair to wait for her. She was so different from any other woman he’d ever known. Beautiful and sexy, but intelligent, witty, sassy, and fiercely independent too—all intriguing factors that had him eager to see her again. She’d brought a sudden interest to his life, erasing the shadows of boredom that had begun seeping in before he’d met her.
He frowned when he saw her disheveled appearance. Good God. She’d shed her jacket in the hallway and the front of her white shirt was spattered with blood. Her hair hung in a tangle of curls and she had a small, swollen cut above her right eyebrow. It looked as though she’d tried to clean up as best as she could in the limo, but she looked a mess anyway.
Alex hesitated in the doorway, as if trying to gauge his mood.
He lifted a brow at her appearance and opted for a playful grin. “Okay, now I’m concerned on a number of levels.”
“It’s been an interesting day,” she replied with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes and moved toward him.
Cole hid the sudden rush of concern, knowing she wouldn’t be pleas
ed if he pounced on her. “Rough day?”
“I’ve had worse.”
“Are you okay?”
She nodded.
Unable to hold back, he took her hand and pulled her onto his lap. “Come here.”
Any uncertainty she may have had at seeing him again lessened, and he felt her relax against him. If she’d been unsure as to their footing after what had happened between them the previous night and earlier that morning, he didn’t ask. Either way, he was determined there wouldn’t be any tension or awkwardness between them because of it.
“What happened?” he asked, almost afraid to know.
“A couple of things.”
“And the eye?”
She sighed. “Vera.”
“That woman’s insane.” A sudden flash of irritation joined the ranks of fierce protectiveness he felt for the petite, feisty woman on his lap. “How did she pan out?”
“She left with her tail between her legs.”
He kissed her chin. “Of course.”
She closed her eyes, leaned her head against his forehead, and smiled at the gesture, almost as though his kindness and tenderness had shaken her armor. “How was your day?”
“Quite boring in comparison to yours.”
“I thought you’d still be mad at me.”
He wrapped his arms around her. “I had time to cool off.”
“We argue a lot.”
“Yes,” he replied. “We’re both out of our depth here, but we’ll figure something out.”
“You’re not going to drill me for information on your cat burglar?”
“It can wait.”
Her eyes widened, but she left it at that. “I’m not an easy person to live with.”
“You’ll do just fine,” he said with a teasing smile and kissed her forehead. She winced and touched a hand to her eyebrow. “Does it hurt?”
“A little.” She smiled. “I told you my job puts a huge damper on my sex life.”
Cole slipped his fingers between the buttons of her shirt and stroked a breast. The effect was mutual for them both and his smile widened. “I doubt there’ll be much that can put a damper on us.”
Alex slid her arms around his neck and gave a soft sigh. “This is so wrong on several levels.”
“You have to admit it’s so right on several others.”
“Mm,” she agreed. “This is very unprofessional, you know.”
He nibbled her bottom lip. “I won’t tell your boss if you don’t.”
She laughed against his mouth and pulled back. “I need a shower, a band aid, some painkillers, and a drink.”
“In that order?”
“In that order.”
“And then?”
“Food.”
“And then?”
“And then,” she said with a grin that matched his, “if you play your cards right, you can take me to bed.”
“I can hardly wait,” he said with a low chuckle, her words hitting him straight between the thighs.
****
Two hours later, Alex stumbled into Cole’s bedroom and kicked the door shut with her foot. In her hands, she held the wrapped painting.
Cole raised an eyebrow. “What’s that for?”
“It’s the Renoir,” she replied and propped the painting against the wall, relieved to be free of its weight.
“You’re bringing the Renoir to bed with us?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m worried about it and you refuse to move it.”
“You’re worried the cat will try again?”
She knew the cat would try again.
Alex shrugged out of her robe, exposing a half naked body dressed in a pair of panties and a tank top. Her hair was untied and hung down her back in a flurry of loose curls. His grunt of approval pleased her and she crossed the room to where he lay sprawled on the bed wearing an amused grin and a pair of blue jeans.
“What about the other paintings downstairs?” he asked.
“What about them?”
“Why aren’t they coming to bed with us?”
Alex smiled at his choice of words. “Because no one’s after them that I know of.”
“And you know they’re after the Renoir?”
“It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? They ordered the hit and sent out the cat, but he failed. He’s bound to attempt it again.”
“But that would be crazy. We’ve got cops checking out the front door.”
“Only every hour. A lot can happen in an hour.” Alex joined him on the bed and looked at him. “Thanks for not ratting me out to Sullivan.”
A flicker of surprise entered his eyes. “How do you know I didn’t rat you out to Sullivan?”
“He came straight to see me after meeting with you.”
“He did? And?”
“I told him what I know about Mike Willis and that I think the burglary here and the burglary at Mike’s house is related.”
Cole stiffened and raised a brow. “You never told me that.”
“I haven’t seen you all day. I only realized it whilst talking to him.”
“So what makes you think the two robberies are related?”
“Did you know that Mike had paintings with a higher value than the Monet in his home, his most expensive one being worth forty million?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s what got me thinking. You’ve also got paintings with higher values and when the cat came in for the Renoir, it was standing underneath your thirty million dollar Monet, yet he still went for the Renoir.”
Cole frowned. “I see where you’re going with this. Why do you think he ignored the more expensive paintings then?”
She shrugged. “Maybe he didn’t have a buyer for them. Art thieves don’t steal valuable paintings unless they can fence them straight away. That’s how they make their money. The paintings are very seldom for their own purpose. No art thief in their right mind would nab a thirty million dollar painting without a buyer lined up.” Alex swept her hair over one shoulder. “I suspect the two thefts are linked and it’s the same cat and the same buyer behind both.”
She told him what she’d told Sullivan.
“So you think the buyer is collecting a series of artwork for his own private viewing?”
“Yes. I’d be interested to know where the Monet and the Renoir originate from—where they’ve been stored over time before they landed up on auction at Christie’s.”
Cole rubbed his fingers across his chin and gave a thoughtful nod. “We need to find out how the two paintings are connected.”
Her mood darkened and she looked down at her hands. “I feel so bad for Mike,” she said quietly. “I wish I’d reacted faster. If I’d gotten an agent in there sooner, then maybe he’d still be alive.”
“You couldn’t have known what was going down.”
“But I knew something was wrong. He knew something was wrong.”
“This isn’t your fault, Alex,” Cole said, maneuvering himself closer to her. He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, the movement so gentle and comforting.
She shut her eyes, enjoying his touch. It made her feel safe and cared for, an unfamiliar emotion. The contrast in him intrigued her. The businessman was harsh and stern, yet the man was tender and kind.
She opened her eyes and sighed softly. “I wish I’d had more time to help him.”
“You can’t save the world.”
“I can try.”
Cole fell silent, and she suspected he was deciding how to approach his next question. She wasn’t wrong.
“Alex, you know who did this. A man is dead. Don’t you think you should go to Sullivan with what you know and let him investigate it?”
She withdrew her hand and looked away.
He was right. This wasn’t just about art theft anymore and if the thieves weren’t playing by the rules, then why should she? The idea of changing those rules worried her as they’d given her a platform from whic
h to work. If she started ratting out her mother’s accomplices, she feared it would create a full-blown war. She couldn’t do that until she’d figured out what they were up to and where her mother was. Someone knew and someone would eventually talk, but if she had Sullivan and his team all over them, word on the street would be that she was a snitch and everyone would clam up. She would never get any information out of anyone.
“Alex?”
“I can’t. At least not right now. I need a little more time to figure out what’s going on.”
“And then?”
“Don’t push me on this.”
Cole clenched his jaw. “You know more than what you’re telling me.”
She flashed him a deadpan look. “Yes, I do.”
“Alex!”
“I don’t have all the facts yet!”
“So tell me what you have.”
“No.” Sensing his agitation, Alex climbed off the bed, wanting to put some distance between them, but his hand shot out and caught her wrist. She sighed and pinned him with a heated look. “I’m not one of your bootlickers you can order around.”
“That’s not what’s going on here and you know it.”
“You’re trying to bully me into changing the way I’ve worked for years, and I told you yesterday that I can’t have you throwing a tantrum every time I won’t tell you something.” She tugged her hand free and stood up. “You’re my client and this is still business.”
“I’d say we’re a little more than just business.”
“We had sex. That’s all.”
“God, you can be infuriating,” he said and lunged off the bed.
“I’m not used to people pushing me and questioning me, Cole. I’m damn good at what I do and the way I work actually works.”
“How can you let Mike’s murderer walk?”
“Of course I’m not going to let Mike’s murderer walk!” she cried, whirling around to face him. “I simply need time to process everything and decide how to handle it, so back off.” She stormed toward the door but he was faster.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” he growled and swiftly stepped between her and the door. He backed up against it, blocking her exit. “Every time our arguments get too heated, you make a run for it.”