Too Hot to Touch and Exposed

by LETO, JULIE

  First on her priority list was finding a way to visit Danny in jail and figure out what he knew, if anything, about the robbery. Thanks to his less than sterling track record—which included a failure-to-appear five years ago in Phoenix—he had been denied bail before his trial on charges of grand theft. In addition to the missing jewels, an injured security guard had still not regained consciousness, leaving the prosecution open to file murder charges.

  Lucy believed Danny when he told her he hadn’t gotten anywhere near the guard and that he hadn’t been armed. In his entire career, he’d never shot anyone and never carried a gun. Either he was being set up or someone else had shot the guard in a bid to steal the loot—a rare pink diamond—from the private collector, but Danny had beat him to the punch. Danny had insisted she not worry about his legal troubles. He’d needed her to focus solely on procuring the ring. Without it, he might not make it to his trial.

  They’d had to plan this entire operation in the prison visitor’s room, using code words and shoptalk they’d perfected over many years. But she supposed that someone could have overheard them.

  If that was the case, some other con might have decided to take advantage of her presence in the auction house, hoping to score big and then pin the robbery on her. If so, the guy was an idiot. Yeah, they’d made off with several hundred thousand dollars’ worth of jewels, but selling them was going to be tough.

  No one knew about her association with Danny—at least, no one who was going to tell. She hadn’t given the police photographs and detailed descriptions of every item taken so they could pass the information on to pawnshops. And the first chance she got, she was going to contact her main competitors and make it clear that if he or any other of her associates moved a single piece from the El Dorado heist, she’d make sure they paid—and dearly.

  Not that she had any idea how to do that, but Danny did—and Danny never made idle threats.

  After inspecting the instructions on the shower stall a little more carefully than she had last night, she selected a single showerhead and set the temperature to a tepid 100 degrees. She grabbed shampoo, conditioner and a soothing body wash and put them all to good use. When she rubbed some of her more sore parts with soap, she was glad that so far, Alex hadn’t attempted to recreate last night’s adventure.

  She wasn’t sure she could take another one of his showers—either physically or emotionally. Not when she knew that by the end of the day, she’d have to leave him.

  For good.

  No matter her promise to Danny or her simmering attraction to Alex, Lucy knew the time had come for Lucienne Bonet to disappear. She’d spent nearly two months looking for the ring—and if she hadn’t found it by now, she was pretty certain she wasn’t going to. She’d have to figure out another way to make sure Danny survived prison—one that didn’t include lying and stealing from a man she was beginning to care about.

  As if summoned by her thought, Alex knocked on the door.

  She turned off the water. “I’m almost done.”

  “May I bring you a cup of coffee?” he asked. “I can leave it on the counter.”

  A chill chased up her spine. Somehow, hearing tentativeness in his voice was wholly unnatural. She could only blame herself—her signals had been pretty clear since she rolled out of bed.

  Stay away—a message she repeated when she said, “I can wait until I’m through.”

  “Of course,” he replied. “But I’m needed downstairs. I shouldn’t be too long.”

  She folded her lips together for a second, and then replied with forced brightness, “Take your time.”

  “I won’t be long,” he promised again, and then shut the door with a definitive click.

  Once he was gone, Lucy relaxed against the wet tile, flooded by the contrasts Alex presented. On the job, he epitomized the confident commander. No-nonsense, pragmatic and entirely certain of his skills both as an art expert and a businessman, he’d came across as someone who wasn’t to be trifled with. Even in bed, he’d demonstrated how accustomed he was to being in control—and she’d loved every single minute.

  Yet at the same time, he’d been an unexpectedly giving lover. He’d focused on her pleasure above and beyond his own. Though she hadn’t exactly left him wanting, either. Still, when morning dawned, he’d allowed her to sleep in, arranged everything she needed to be waiting for her in the bathroom and had even offered to fetch her coffee. She had a little trouble reconciling the man who had a chauffeur and a penthouse suite with someone doing something as simple and thoughtful as bringing a lover her first morning jolt of caffeine.

  As she mulled over the dichotomy, she turned the water back on and finished her shower. She skipped the lamp drying and instead wrapped herself in a towel and sat in front of the vanity mirror with cosmetics, a blow dryer and hair straightener until she’d re-created Lucienne Bonet—possibly for the last time.

  From her perfect smoky eyes to her long, luxurious hair, Lucienne embodied Alex’s fantasy—but she was also the woman Lucy might have chosen to become if she’d known a different life. But with a father who’d used his position at museums to move stolen goods and a mother who had fooled an entire community, including the judicial system, into believing she took in foster kids out of her giving nature rather than to run scams, Lucy was a product of her upbringing.

  Thanks to Danny, however, she’d ended up better than most. She wasn’t a petty thief with a rap sheet a mile long, a drug addict or a troubled single mother fighting the demons of her past. He’d taught her to use her keen eye, extensive knowledge and crack negotiating skills to move the merchandise he appropriated. He’d schooled her on how to change her appearance, alter her accent and slide through society without getting noticed—until getting noticed was the means to an end. Together, they’d turned their rotten childhoods into financial security.

  She owed him so much. Other than an expunged juvenile record, she’d never had any direct run-ins with the law. She’d parlayed her street smarts and excellent memory for details and facts into a fine career as a mover of stolen goods. And now that she’d had a taste of legitimate employment, she considered—not for the first time—that maybe once Danny was safe, she might try to find a way to go straight.

  The clothes she’d asked to be brought over from her apartment weren’t in the bathroom, so she pulled on the white robe and padded into the bedroom. Alex was still downstairs, but the coffee he’d promised was waiting for her in an insulated carafe.

  She poured a cup and wandered into the living area, spying the empty snifters and expensive brandy they’d never gotten around to drinking the night before. Her stomach growled, reminding her that they hadn’t wasted any time with food, either. She was scouting around for some fresh fruit or a granola bar when she heard the elevator ding.

  “Alex?”

  But it wasn’t Alex who came around the corner—it was Michael.

  Her heart jetted up her esophagus and lodged in the back of her throat.

  “Lucienne, isn’t it?”

  She pulled the lapels of her robe tighter and gave the sash an extra tug.

  “Alex isn’t here,” she said.

  He smiled, but it was a small expression that didn’t meet his eyes. “I know. He’s downstairs, meeting with an insurance adjuster.”

  “That was fast,” she commented.

  “My father had as many friends on the right side of the law as the wrong one. And Alex, well, he’s already proven himself to be a force to be reckoned with. I don’t expect the holders of Ramon’s policies will give him much of a hard time.”

  She sipped her steaming hot drink, but didn’t reply. She recognized Michael’s tactic. He was trying to intimidate her. Bully her a little. Had he remembered her as the woman he’d met at the jail or was he just playing bulldog to his brother’s new lover?

  Michael held out a gift bag emblazoned with the hotel’s logo. “This is for you.”

  Her lack of clothing had given her a reason to keep he
r distance, but when she didn’t move nearer, he held the bag out farther and gave it a little shake. He wanted a closer look at her—which might mean that he thought he recognized her, but wasn’t sure.

  If it was a game he wanted, she’d play. What choice did she have?

  Forcing confidence into her step and a bright smile onto her lips, she crossed the room and took the bag, turning in what she hoped was a natural swirl while she peeked inside.

  “Oh,” she said, surprised. “The concierge here certainly goes above and beyond. He went all the way to my apartment to get my clothes.”

  “The concierge didn’t,” Michael said. “I did.”

  Again, her chest seized. It was one thing to know that thieves might have pawed through her belongings—it was something else to realize an FBI agent had.

  “That was very sweet of you,” she lied.

  He shrugged. “That remains to be seen. I’m sorry if they’re a little wrinkled. By the time I got there this morning, someone had already been through your stuff.”

  “The thieves?”

  “More than likely.”

  “I thought the police were watching my place.”

  “They had a car patrolling the area, but the thieves had a key. They must have slipped in unnoticed.”

  She eyed the couch, but decided that if she remained standing, she could keep him from getting too close. She moved to the bright, east-facing windows and turned so her face was in shadow. “What kind of damage did they do?”

  “They knocked over some stuff, dug through drawers,” he said, moving closer. “They were definitely looking for something. Might have found it, too. Even the air vents were torn off. Why do you think they’d do that?”

  She fought the instinct to give any outward sign that his information had caused nausea to roil through her stomach and make her thankful she hadn’t eaten.

  “How should I know?”

  “Because my brother rarely hangs out with people who aren’t somehow tied into his business. Even his lovers tend to be the kind of women a guy wouldn’t turn his back on in case she decides to steal his wallet.”

  She straightened her spine, channeling the indignation she imagined Lucienne Bonet might feel, even though felonious Lucy Burnett wondered if the elevator was the only exit from the penthouse. “Alejandro’s reputation is pristine. I can’t imagine him ever consorting with anyone who’d stoop so low as to pick a pocket.”

  “I wasn’t talking about Alejandro.”

  When Michael closed the distance between them, she couldn’t resist taking a step backward until she bumped into the windowsill. Michael’s sapphire stare, intense and focused, bored through her, but she held her ground, tilting up her chin and meeting his gaze with defiance.

  “Then who are you talking about?”

  “Daniel.”

  “Who?”

  He cracked a smile, but again, nothing remotely like humor touched the piercing blue of his eyes.

  “You’re going to try to tell me you don’t know Daniel.”

  He was fishing. He had no proof. If he did, he would have already presented it—if not to her, then to Alex.

  “I’m not trying to convince you of anything,” she said. “But I am going to insist that you take a few steps back.”

  He glanced down. She had a perfect shot at his balls with her knee. Recognizing his vulnerability, he complied.

  “Thank you,” she said sweetly. “Now that we’ve reestablished personal space, Special Agent Murrieta, I will volunteer that I don’t think I know anyone named Daniel. I mean, I believe there was a man named Daniel who worked in the shipping department at the museum in Toronto I worked for several summers ago, but I doubt he’s your brother…unless you have an Asian side to your family.”

  His gaze never wavered and though it required a lifetime’s experience to remain unaffected, she retained the insulted look on her face until he finally turned away.

  The worm had just dropped off the hook, so she decided to make sure the bait sank to the bottom, undigested.

  “What is this about? Do you think I’m somehow involved in the robbery at the auction house?”

  He slung his hands into his pockets and was just about to speak when Alejandro strode into the room and answered for him.

  “Of course he doesn’t.”

  The anger in Alex’s voice crackled in the air like lightning. He locked his stare with Michael’s, and for a split second, Lucy was nearly capsized by a wave of testosterone. Alex’s presence always commanded respect and deference, but when Michael was riled, his charming blue eyes hardened and his chin abandoned its rugged charisma for a more implacable set.

  For the first time, the men’s blood relationship struck her hard. They were both strong. Both stubborn. Both fierce. Adding Danny to the mix in her mind, she realized that Ramon Murrieta had fathered sons who ran the gamut from smart to kind-hearted and loyal—but they were also hard-headed and immovable.

  And when riled, downright scary.

  With the shopping bag clutched against her chest, Lucy hurried across the room and laid a gentle hand on Alex’s arm. “Is everything all right?”

  His gaze didn’t waver from Michael’s.

  “Fine,” he said, his tone curt. After a moment, he glanced down at her, and in the instant that his dark eyes met hers, his mouth softened. He casually slipped his hands into his pockets, and when he spoke directly to her, his voice was every bit as indulgent and melodious as it had been last night when he’d spent a good ten minutes ruminating on how much he adored the way her ass fit in his hands.

  She couldn’t help but smile.

  “You had coffee?”

  “Not a lot, but enough to offset my grumpiness,” she said. “I’m sorry if I was awful this morning.”

  “You were understandably exhausted. But now that you have something to wear, why don’t you go get dressed while I finish talking to my brother?”

  She spared Michael a glance, but decided not to argue. She had to act innocent, and since Alex had already risen to her defense, she was better off leaving her fate in the hands of someone who had no idea how guilty she truly was.

  Besides, she hadn’t stolen anything. And now that she’d started planning her exit strategy, she was fairly certain she never would.

  She nodded and was two steps away from Alex when he grabbed her by the elbow and yanked her flush against his body. He swallowed her yelp of surprise with a deep, erotic kiss that counteracted her equilibrium so that when he swept one hand on the small of her back, he kept her from falling.

  Lucy knew she should pull away. Michael was, after all, watching. She could feel his outraged stare burning through her thick terrycloth robe—or was that just her temperature rising in memory of all the delicious and decadent things Alex had done to her the night before? But no matter the perspiration gathering between her breasts, she couldn’t seem to let him go.

  This could be their last kiss.

  She clutched her hands on either side of his face and twirled her tongue with his. She memorized his taste, his textures, his flavors. She tilted her pelvis to his so that his sex pressed against her, hardening in response. What wouldn’t she do to have him inside her one last time?

  The limitlessness of her answers frightened her to her core.

  She winced, and instantly, Alex set her right. She fluttered her eyes open and nearly drowned in the liquid desire pooling in his obsidian irises. He held her fast, not releasing his grip on her until she’d taken a deep breath and found her balance.

  His wicked grin immediately reminded her of Danny. Alex had not only kissed her because he wanted to—but to vex Michael.

  “I’ll dress quickly,” she said, a little vexed herself. Well, if she could use him, she supposed he had every right to use her right back to get under his brother’s skin.

  Especially since Michael wasn’t exactly lily white with innocence, either.

  Everything she’d done so far had been for Danny—the brother
Michael hadn’t told Alex about yet. And though she couldn’t imagine that her new lover would ever agree with her choices, if she read him right, he’d at least understand that sometimes family—even without shared blood—came first.

  He skimmed his hand lovingly on her cheek. “Take your time, querida.”

  She’d started toward the bedroom when a flash of emerald and gold sparked in her peripheral vision. Surreptitiously, she glanced over her shoulder to work out what she’d seen. Michael had his back to them, apparently disgusted by their public display of affection. Alex had also turned, but had hooked his hands behind his back as if anticipating a confrontation.

  When Lucy spied his right hand, she nearly stumbled over her own feet. Instinctively, she quickened her pace until she was in the bedroom with the double doors shut tight. Her lungs seized, but when she closed her eyes in an attempt to will her body to remain calm, the picture of what she’d seen solidified in her mind’s eye.

  Alex was wearing Ramon’s ring.

  And now, after finally making love with him, she was in the perfect position to steal it.

  9

  AT THE SOUND OF THE bedroom door shutting, Michael turned, his disgusted expression heightening Alex’s anger to a dangerous level. For Lucienne’s sake, he’d made light of his brother’s insinuations. Then, to distract her and to prove a point to his brother, he’d swept her into a kiss.

  Only the kiss hadn’t simply been about Michael’s accusations—the kiss had been a claiming. She was his, and he’d be damned if his brother was going to get in the way.

  As an expert in his field, Alex had learned to appreciate the finest creations of the world’s most creative minds. He sometimes purchased objects that pleased him, but more often than not, items he admired stayed in his possession only long enough for him to sell them to someone else.

  In many ways, his love life operated on the same principle. He admired women, he even kept them close for a short time, but sooner rather than later, they left him for men with more money, more time, a greater willingness to lavish them with attention and worship.