Too Hot to Touch and Exposed

by LETO, JULIE

  The first was a glowing letter of recommendation. The second, a certified check.

  A check with a lot of zeroes.

  Not enough zeroes to get Daniel out of trouble, but maybe enough to buy his safety until she found Ramon’s ring.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  “Your commission. Or at least, an estimate based on your projections for the auction. Should we take in more, I’ll make sure you get the adjusted amount.”

  “And if you make less?”

  He shrugged nonchalantly, then braced his hands on the arms of her chair so that his cologne, a warm musk with a hint of tobacco and leather, sizzled through his crisp white shirt. “Our business always includes a certain amount of risk. It will be worth it if it means I’ll have more time with you.”

  She tucked the check and the letter back into the envelope, trying to hide how her hands shook. “I thought you were firing me.”

  His dark irises simmered and his tongue slid slowly across his bottom lip. “Oh, I am. But only because I have a very strict policy against seducing my employees.”

  Once again, her heartbeat hammered within her chest, hampering her ability to breathe without gulping in air. Or worse, panting.

  He grinned. “I’ve surprised you.”

  She opened her mouth to inhale, but the added awareness of his intoxicating scent only knocked her further into sensory overload.

  When he moved even closer, she drew back and said, “No.”

  It was a quiet no. Barely audible. And yet, Alejandro had instantly complied.

  He arched a brow, but moved no more than an inch in retreat. “Or perhaps you’ve surprised me.”

  She flicked her thumbnail on the corner of the envelope. The clicking noise kept pace with her stuttering pulse. He was so close. A single breath separated his lips from hers. Until he’d breached the invisible boundary of her personal space, she hadn’t realized just how long it had been since she’d kissed a man—any man, much less one she barely knew and who possessed the scruples to resist toying with an employee.

  An employee whose ultimate goal was to rip him off.

  She had to reach deep within her Lucienne persona for an adequate reply. “You didn’t expect me to collapse instantly into your arms, did you?”

  His eyes widened with even more surprise. “I believed our attraction to be mutual.”

  She smiled, glad when he backed up a bit, giving her room to inhale deeply. “Who says it isn’t?”

  “You’re not exactly jumping at the chance to—”

  “Fall into bed with you?”

  The corner of his mouth quirked into a reluctant grin. “Even I’m not that presumptuous.”

  She quirked an eyebrow. “Then what else did you have in mind?”

  “This is San Francisco,” he replied, his voice a warm drizzle of rich, dark chocolate, “a bastion of fine dining and entertainment. Perhaps we could start with dinner or a concert. Maybe a stroll on the wharf. I haven’t seen much beyond the walls of this auction house or the lobby of my hotel, but I’d like to. With you.”

  Again, his gaze swept over her with such potent scrutiny, she knew that what he truly wished to see more of was her body, preferably naked and supine beneath his. Instantaneously, her nipples pebbled and chafed against the transparent lace of her bra. Sweet pressure pulsed between her legs. He was interested in her—and vice versa.

  Not because of Daniel.

  Not because of the ring.

  Because he was hot—and she was horny.

  And yet, she had to continue to play her part.

  “And you thought you should pay me for my time?” she asked, waving the envelope.

  His dazzling smile against his dark skin nearly knocked her senseless. When he added a chuckle, she thought her insides might melt.

  “You know that wasn’t my intention,” he said.

  “You just wanted our relationship free and clear of business entanglements.”

  “If you hadn’t been so perfectly qualified for this job, I might not have hired you in the first place just so I could have proceeded straight to a seduction. Instead, with a wealth of self-control and sacrifice, I put my own needs aside. Now, I have the collection expertly catalogued and you have your generous commission. On a professional level, we’ve both won. Where we go from here will be purely personal.”

  Bracing her hands on the arms of the chair, she stood. He gave no quarter, so that once she balanced on her spiked heels, they were nearly body to body. She couldn’t speak for him, but she was primed for a hell of a lot more than a romantic meal in some candlelit bistro or a stroll through the Japanese Gardens at Golden Gate Park.

  Glancing down, she saw how perfectly they’d fit if she took that final step and destroyed the last few empty inches between them. His hands were slung into his pockets, but with the right signal from her, she knew he’d grasp her hips, or even better, her ass. And if he tugged her against him, her breasts would nestle just underneath his impressive pecs. He’d definitely have to dip his head to press his lips to hers, but if not, she had perfect access to the spot on his throat that bobbed when he swallowed.

  “How personal?” she asked.

  His quick intake of breath sucked the air out of her lungs. “Let me show you.”

  4

  “SO DID YOU TELL HIM about Danny?”

  Michael groaned. He hadn’t even buckled the seatbelt of their government-issue sedan and already Ruby had cut to the chase. This was why he was glad to be on her side during interrogations.

  “He patted me on the back on the way out, remember?”

  “Right,” she said, nodding sagely. “I expect that if he’d just found out he had a second brother he didn’t know about, he would have kicked your ass out the door.”

  “Only because said brother is incarcerated with no bond, awaiting trial on grand theft and, if the security guard dies, second-degree murder. Alejandro’s hardly ready to deal with me, much less Daniel. Hell, I’m not ready to deal with Daniel. Not that I have any choice.”

  Ruby flipped down the sun shield on the passenger side and looked in the vanity mirror. She seemed uncharacteristically interested in her earlobes.

  “Leave it to Danny Boy to keep your life interesting,” she said.

  “Interesting is not the word I’d pick.”

  Michael shoved the key into the ignition. He’d only told Alex half the story about the DNA discovered at the art theft crime scene—and clearly, telling him about the ring had distracted him from wondering whose blood had been on the frame if it hadn’t belonged to either Alex or his father.

  It had belonged to a third son—Daniel. One Ramon had tried to contact as soon as he’d learned of his existence. One who’d denied all of his father’s overtures for reconciliation. The Bureau had dragged Danny in for interrogation, but he’d come up with a brilliant explanation that both explained his blood at the crime scene and provided him with an ironclad alibi. And when the painting was mysteriously returned to the original owners, the whole matter had been dropped and Michael’s career had suffered only a momentary glitch in his rise to Special Agent.

  But revealing Danny’s existence to Alex wouldn’t go so smoothly. Alex prided himself on being a good, upstanding, well-respected man who would never be involved in theft of any kind. It was hard enough for him to deal with the aftermath of his father’s abandonment. Michael wasn’t ready to heap on the baggage of another brother.

  “He’s going to find out about Danny sooner or later,” Ruby insisted.

  Instinctively, Michael scanned the street. The hill sloped up high just three doors down, so the view was only clear to the south. This district of the city, originally residential but zoned for business use over three decades ago, housed mostly art galleries, cozy restaurants, an occult shop, bric-a-brac boutiques and El Dorado auctions. With a cable car stop just a few blocks over, shoppers strolled down the street with glossy bags and disposable coffee cups. No one seemed to be in a hurry. No o
ne looked out of place.

  So why were his instincts on high alert?

  “Later works for me just fine,” Michael said, taking his time as he drove down the street. He hadn’t hung out in this neighborhood much since he was a kid. Would he even notice if someone or something didn’t belong?

  “Don’t you think he’s going to be pissed off that you took this long to tell him?”

  “After what he’s already learned about Ramon, if I tell him we have another brother who’s currently awaiting a possible murder charge if that guard dies, Alex will go to Madrid before he sells so much as a toe ring.”

  “You don’t care about the money,” Ruby challenged.

  “No, but my mother needs a nest egg. And if that serial kidnapping case goes in the direction I think it will, I’m not going to have time to handle the liquidation. And when he does leave, I’d like it to be on good terms.”

  “Speaking of rings,” Ruby said, glancing again in the mirror. “That assistant of his seemed awfully interested in the emerald and opal your father used to wear.”

  Michael pulled up a little short at the stop sign.

  “The appraisal expert?”

  “Yeah, her.”

  “What was her name?”

  “I didn’t check her ID,” Ruby said, slapping the sun shield back into place.

  “No, but you asked her name.”

  “Lucienne,” Ruby said in an exaggerated French accent. “Lucienne Bonet.”

  “She’s from Paris?”

  “New Orleans, or so she said.”

  “You don’t believe her?”

  Ruby shrugged. This was not a good sign. Of all the people he worked with in the San Francisco field office, Ruby was the best judge of character. She could look at a roomful of people and pick the liars and crooks out with hardly a second glance. Why she hadn’t made it to the elite Behavioral Analysis Unit was totally beyond him—except that she preferred northern California to Quantico, Virginia, and she valued having an actual life over moving up in her career.

  “She might have been in New Orleans at one time or another, but I don’t know if she was actually born there. There’s something off in her accent.”

  “I never got a good look at her,” Michael said, his brain only half engaged in driving while he tried to conjure a picture of his brother’s assistant with any detail. He’d come to the auction house today with a mission to convince Alex to abide by their father’s last request and wear the legendary ring. He hadn’t given the assistant a second thought.

  Until now.

  “You think I should check her out?” he asked Ruby.

  “All I said was that she was interested in your father’s ring.”

  “And you don’t think that’s a coincidence?”

  He hadn’t told Ruby everything about the ring’s legend, but he had confided about his father’s dying wish that Alejandro be the next Murrieta to possess the family heirloom.

  “She just asked if the ring was real or part of the mural.”

  “You don’t think that’s a strange question?”

  Again, Ruby shrugged. “I think she just wanted to know more about your brother, to be honest. She definitely has the hots for him. I mean, who wouldn’t?”

  At this, Michael relaxed. This woman, Lucienne, had been working with his brother for weeks. Alex would not have left her to care for so many valuables if he hadn’t done thorough checks into her qualifications and background. If she was interested in his brother romantically, then the guy had hit the jackpot. Michael hadn’t seen much of her from the front—but from behind, she was quite the stunner.

  “The Murrieta men have that effect on women,” he said confidently.

  Ruby snorted.

  “What? We do,” he said, thinking about the legend. There was something about a man in a mask—even a figurative one—that women found incredibly attractive.

  “How the hell would you know?” Ruby asked. “When’s the last time you went on a date?”

  Michael opened his mouth to answer, but his brain stalled. It couldn’t have been too long ago. He had been buried under with a cross-state custody kidnapping case, and before that, the money-laundering task force with members of the Secret Service. Now he was consulting on what appeared to be a serial kidnapping case that might have ties to the very legend he’d just discussed with his brother. In the midst of all of that, he’d buried the father he loved and tried to be a comfort to his mother. It had been a long time since he’d had the opportunity, energy or interest to pursue a social life.

  Maybe too long.

  “It’s none of your business,” he said.

  She snorted again. “That’s what I thought. Well, at least one Murrieta man has a shot at getting lucky, because if it’s up to you or Daniel to live up to the family name, you guys are in trouble.”

  WHEN LUCIENNE LIFTED her fathomless eyes to his, Alex’s control broke. He shrugged a hand out of his pocket, crooked a finger beneath her chin and touched his lips to hers. Instantly, he was struck by the twin sensations of satin over velvet—his smooth and cool to her warm and plush. A tiny moan from deep in the back of her throat goaded him to tease the edges of her mouth with his tongue and without hesitation, she responded. The full depth of the kiss lit him on fire.

  He wanted to touch her—feel her—everywhere, but he restrained the impulse by clenching his hands inside his pockets, vaguely aware of a hardness there that didn’t belong.

  The ring.

  He pulled back.

  She gasped, her eyes wide and her mouth pale where her lipstick had transferred from her mouth to his.

  “Lucienne, I—”

  His words were cut short by a crash from the back of the auction house, followed by a piercing wail.

  The security alarm.

  Alex tugged her behind him. “Dial the police.”

  He dashed toward the door to the gallery, but a sharp crack and splinter of the doorframe stopped him short.

  “Gun!” Lucienne screamed, and before he could react, she shoved him out of the line of fire and slammed the door shut, twisting the lock.

  In a heartbeat, Alex regained his ability to think. At home in Madrid, the galleries, vaults and offices were protected by double-thick doors lined with steel and multiple computerized locks. Security guards stood sentry at entrances and exits, and took random sweeps through the premises at all times of the day and night.

  Ramon took fewer safeguards. El Dorado had automatically locking doors at every entrance, a buzz-in system for entry, a monitored alarm and cameras, but no live security unless an auction was in progress.

  And no challenging locks. One bullet to the deadbolt of the office door and he and Lucienne would be easy prey for whoever had staged such a bold daylight invasion.

  The phone rang. Lucienne grabbed the receiver. From the gallery, they heard the bangs and smashes of thieves at work.

  “The intruders are armed. Send the police. Now!” Lucienne shouted into the phone.

  Only Alex knew that now wouldn’t be soon enough. He shoved a heavy credenza in front of the door, and then grunted as he stacked two lion statues cast in bronze on top.

  This barrier might buy them a few more seconds—but to do what?

  Ramon’s office had no windows. No other doors. They had no means of escape.

  Lucienne dashed to his side, her hands clutching his sleeve. “The police are on the way. And everything of value is out there,” she reasoned. “They won’t come in here.”

  “We don’t know what they want or what they came here looking for,” he countered. “And with the door shut, they don’t know what we have in here.”

  “Then we need to leave.”

  Alex scanned the room for anything he could use as a weapon. Why, suddenly, was every sword, dagger, mace or pistol out in the main gallery with the intruders?

  “There doesn’t seem to be an emergency exit.”

  “Yes, there is.”

  She grabbed his wrist and pu
lled him to the far corner of the room.

  “Help me,” she said, pushing on a tall bookcase overflowing with rare first editions of the works of Edgar Allan Poe, Mary Shelley and Bram Stoker.

  Alex had no idea what she meant to accomplish, but the chaos from the other room now included raised and angry voices. With one additional shove from him, the bookshelf slid a few inches forward—it weighed much more than it looked. Lucienne pounded on a loose block in the exposed brick behind it, and with a groan and a scrape, the wall opened.

  “What the—?”

  Lucienne squeezed into the confined space, grabbed him by the sleeve and tugged him beside her.

  Once they were tucked inside, she reached up, yanked down on an old, rusty latch and the wall shifted into place behind them.

  They were safe, but trapped.

  “What is this?”

  “Old-time version of a panic room, I think,” she answered.

  Ribbons of daylight streamed down from what looked like a grate high in the ceiling. At least they had fresh air. In fact, the cobwebbed, dusty closet-size space was cooler than his office had been.

  And yet, with Lucienne pressed completely against him, he felt every bit as hot.

  “How did you know this was here?” he asked, trying not to fully register how her belly was flush with his pelvis. So soft. So pliant. So insanely luscious. Like her lips. And her breasts, squashed upward against his chest.

  “I found it when I was looking through the bookshelves,” she explained.

  “How exactly does one find a secret passage?”

  Though muffled by the wall, they both jumped when gunfire blasted through the door from the gallery to the office. Obviously, the thieves weren’t content to leave with the spoils from the outer room, which included several hundred thousand dollars’ worth of jewels that Lucienne had pulled out to photograph for the catalogue. The rest were in the main vault, secure and locked in the basement. With the alarm still screaming and the police alerted, the invaders had little chance of breaching that barrier. Not without explosives, which would likely take down the whole house—Lucienne and Alex along with it.