The London Deception

by Addison Fox

  “Why?”

  He shrugged before taking a seat next to her. “Why not? You called it an addiction earlier and it’s an apt term. I know what it is. What the beast that claws at your back feels like and thinks like and sounds like when it whispers in your ear.”

  “What sort of jobs do you take?”

  “Ones that don’t interfere with my legitimate work. I meant what I said. Gallagher International has been more successful than my wildest dreams, and the work I do keeps me incredibly busy. But every six months or so...the beast wants out.”

  “Do you have any interest in making different choices?”

  “Hell yes. What do you think I’m trying to tell you?”

  “What I want to hear, most likely.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  She reached for her glass of wine, but paused before bringing it to her lips. “What is fair, then?”

  “Let me prove to you I want to be different. That I can be different.”

  “But how can you be different if you keep the bracelet?”

  “Because of you.”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but that’s not good enough.”

  “Why not?”

  “You need to want it for yourself. You need to feel that, way down deep inside. Someone else can’t do that for you.”

  The thought was so simple—profound, really—yet it wasn’t the whole story. She made him want to make better choices. By her example and by the simple vibrancy that surrounded her like a bright cloak.

  “I want to change my life. You make me want to change my life. Why is that so hard to believe? And what could possibly be wrong with that?” He reached for her, the need to touch her boiling over to the flash point.

  Her coat still sat heavy in her lap, her hands folded neatly on top of it. He covered her hands with one of his own, entwining his fingers with hers, as he lifted his other hand to her cheek. “Rowan.”

  Her name hovered between them a fraction of a second before he leaned in and captured her lips with his. As a man used to taking what he wanted, the realization she wasn’t a prize to be won struck him as the strangest sort of irony.

  But when her mouth opened under his, he knew the sweetest victory.

  Desire curled in his belly on swift wings as one kiss flowed into the next. The raw emotion of the past few days blended with the very real truth of the moment.

  For the first time in his life, he was exposed. The years he’d spent thieving had finally been shared with another person. The lies he’d told himself and others had been confessed to another soul. The sins he carried had been unburdened on another.

  Was it a fair burden to place on her?

  He tried to concentrate on that—wanted to pull back and give her space—but the raging need for her simply wouldn’t be sated. And then a light moan rose up in her throat as she tilted her head back, allowing him deeper access, and he was lost.

  Finn took full advantage of the invitation, pulling her closer as she wrapped her arms around his waist. Their erotic play of tongues tortured his already-heated body, but he wouldn’t stop.

  Couldn’t stop.

  She tasted like the wine, only better. Lush and ripe, just like the nickname he’d teased her with.

  “Peach.” He whispered that single word against her lips. Felt hers smile against his before she pulled back.

  “I didn’t understand that at the time. Not fully. But I sensed it was just the slightest bit naughty.”

  “I meant it as a compliment.”

  Her eyebrows rose over that vivid blue. “Right.”

  “Yes, actually. I was nineteen at the time. Nineteen-year-old boys on the cusp of manhood aren’t known for their romantic tongues. Thirty-one-year-old men, on the other hand...” He couldn’t resist leaning forward and nipping her lips for another kiss.

  “Sweet words, but they don’t mean much.”

  Her statement was delivered in a breezy tone, but he refused to leave them lie. “They do mean something to me. You mean something to me, Rowan.”

  She laid a hand on his chest. “This will sound harsh, but despite my better judgment, you mean something to me, too.”

  “So we see where it goes.”

  “No, Finn. We can’t do this.”

  “Why not?”

  “Neither of us can afford distractions. I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt that you mean what you say, but it doesn’t change our working relationship. The dig in Egypt requires our entire focus.”

  She struggled forward from the depths of the couch cushion, but stopped when he laid a gentle hand on her arm. “The trip’s important. Incredibly important, but we can both do Egypt with our eyes closed. What else is this about?”

  She didn’t remove her arm, but neither did she sugarcoat her words. “Kissing you. Wanting to do even more. None of it changes the fact we’re still on opposite sides of a very large disagreement, Finn.”

  “The bracelet?”

  “Yes. You can’t keep it. And as long as you have it in your possession, you can’t have me.”

  The pronouncement was bold—he’d have expected no less from her—but it still stung. She was asking him to choose. And while he had no problem seeing his future on the up-and-up, he wasn’t quite ready to let go of his past.

  Nor was he crazy about an ultimatum.

  “I’ve told you my reasons for retaining the bracelet.”

  “And I’ve told you mine for why you need to relinquish the piece.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Actually, it is.” She stood once more, the coat in her hands. “I need to leave.”

  “I’ll see you back to the hotel.”

  “I can take a cab back.”

  “I’ll see you back. Just let me alert my driver.”

  Despite her protests, he did see her back to the hotel via the car he kept at the ready at all times. It was only a long while later, as he lay in his bed staring out the windows of his room, imagining the feel of her in his arms, that he understood why she’d left.

  He hadn’t put her first.

  And no matter how much he wanted to make different choices for the future, he wasn’t willing to atone for his past.

  * * *

  Rowan slugged down her second cup of coffee as she walked up the steps of the Underground station near the Shard. While the caffeine was a daily requirement for functionality, today her body needed it the same way she needed air.

  She hadn’t slept and couldn’t get her mind to settle. She jumped from topic to topic like a deranged jackrabbit—Finn’s desire to go straight, his reticence to give up the bracelet and the devastating reaction she had to him—almost as if the thoughts were on a loop. And each time she jumped to the next topic, she thought of new questions, all without answers.

  At its core, though, was one simple question with no clear answer as to how she should proceed.

  She was attracted to him.

  Leaving his apartment the night before instead of curling up in his arms was one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do. And she now faced three weeks with him in the close confines of a dig site.

  How was she going to keep this mindless attraction at bay? Especially when way down deep inside, she knew she didn’t want to.

  The demands of her body had begun to take over reasonable, rational thought, their only goal to be sated.

  It was a humbling thought, really. Here she was, having spent years subjugating her irrational needs with an iron fist, and the same man who’d started her down that path was the one who made her want to leap off it.

  The elevator ride to his office was quick, the breathtaking views of London as gorgeous as the day before. She nearly missed the buzzing of her mobile she was so enamo
red of her surroundings. She hit the answer button as a photo of Will flashed across the face of her phone.

  “Hey there.”

  “Hey, yourself. I think I’ve got big news.”

  “You sound like you haven’t slept.”

  “I haven’t.”

  She let out a long, low whistle as the elevator doors swished open on the lobby of Gallagher International. “Debbie is going to hunt me down and kill me.”

  “Yeah, well, she’s after me first. I blew off a late-night sex session after the kids fell asleep.”

  Finn’s administrative assistant saw her from across the office and headed her way to let her through the door. “Will!”

  “I caught a lead.”

  “You need to be getting caught on your wife.”

  “I know, I know.”

  Rowan shook her head, the irony of the moment not lost on her. She got all the archaeology she wanted and was fighting the urge to have what she was quite sure would be mind-blowing sex with Finn. Will got all the sex he wanted and all he seemed to focus on was archaeology.

  As her grandmother had admonished her on more than one occasion, we always want what we can’t have.

  Celeste waved her through the glass doors, and Rowan pointed toward the phone and mouthed an I’m sorry before following her to Finn’s office. An inconvenient shot of attraction wrapped around her as she caught sight of him leaning forward over his desk, his fingers flying over the keyboard of his laptop.

  The opportunity was too sweet to resist—to look her fill without his knowing—and she stopped for the briefest moment to simply admire the view.

  Finn Gallagher was an incredible specimen of a man. Strong, thick shoulders on a solid frame. A narrow waist that she could just see before the rest of his body disappeared behind the desk. A hard jaw that clenched and unclenched as he typed whatever it was he was working on.

  He was devastating.

  And the resistance she was working so diligently to maintain slipped another notch.

  “Rowan? Are you there?”

  “Of course I’m here.”

  “What did I just say?”

  She tamped down on the grimace at being caught twice. Will knew full well she hadn’t been listening to him, and the sly grin that suffused Finn’s features when he glanced up from his computer was proof that he’d known she was there. Drinking him in.

  “Oh, repeat it for me. I just got off the elevator in Finn’s office. In fact, hang on and I’ll put you on speaker so we can both hear you.”

  “Good morning.” Finn was up and around his desk, and since she knew his custom was to press a kiss to her cheek, she took a quick seat on one of his guest chairs and pointed toward the phone. “Will’s on the phone and he’s got news. I thought I’d put him on speaker so he could tell us both at once.”

  The small line that furrowed his brow and the quick hand he ran along his jaw confirmed her actions had struck a chord.

  Good.

  This was a new day and she would prove to herself she could resist the far-too-enticing package that was Finn Gallagher.

  “Good morning, Finn.” Will’s voice echoed from the speaker on her phone where she’d placed it in the center of Finn’s desk. After a quick recap of the information Will had provided in the elevator—minus the sex update—he launched into his findings.

  “So I got several hits on those message boards.”

  Finn’s gaze was focused on the desk, and again, Rowan found herself gazing at him longer than necessary, unable to look away. “Do you think the boards are secure?”

  “You have to have a user name and password.”

  The frown was back, but this time Rowan knew she wasn’t the cause. As Will talked through the types of people he usually met on the forums he visited, Finn scratched a note.

  We should get your brother to take a quick look into these sites.

  She nodded, recognizing the value of getting Campbell involved. Although all of them had a basic proficiency with technology, there wasn’t a system in existence her brother couldn’t get in or out of. He had the added benefit of understanding what something suspicious looked like in the digital world.

  As her friend’s voice droned on from the speakerphone, Rowan knew she’d better cut him off and get him to the point. “Will, what is it that got your feelers up?”

  “The answers I’m getting from supposed experts make no sense.”

  Finn tapped a few keys on his computer before turning the laptop so they could both see it. “What did you ask them?”

  “The basics we discussed. What they’ve heard about the dig in the Valley. What was the word on the expected cache. I even played around with the curse thread, curious to see what I’d fine.”

  “And?” Rowan leaned closer to the computer, intrigued by the list of threads on the site Will was most excited about.

  “Anyone who comments on the thread says the curse is real. They’ve pointed to other ancient texts to prove their point, as well.”

  “You and I both know it’s a bunch of bunk. There’s no such thing as a curse.”

  Finn tapped a few more keys. “Doesn’t mean someone doesn’t feel it’s not an awfully good deterrent to whatever’s in that tomb.”

  “But how can it be a deterrent if no one really gives it any mind? I know the locals have been known for their superstitions, but not the professional archaeologists. I just find it hard to believe a team of research specialists are going to get spooked by something so silly.”

  Will’s voice was tinny through the speakerphone, and the sounds of a class change were evident in the background. “One of the regular posters thinks the rumors of a curse are contributing to the red tape that the British Museum has been up against.”

  “How much do you trust this guy’s input?” Finn tapped his finger to the screen, pointing on the link she needed to click next. “If I’m reading the thread you’re referring to, the commenter is named Hampstead 84.”

  “That’s him.”

  “And?” Finn pressed again. “How well do you know him?”

  “I don’t. That’s part of why I hang out on these sites. It’s a way to talk archaeology with others in the field.”

  “Have you seen this guy on the forums before?”

  “A few times. He’s been on around six months.” Will’s voice echoed from the speaker again, the noise growing in volume in the background.

  “Will? You still there?” Since the sound coming out of the phone resembled the noise of a thundering herd on the African plains, she assumed it was his class.

  “Yeah. Look, I’ve gotta go. My next group of undergrads are walking in. I’ll follow up later.”

  “Thanks, Will.” She ended the call and sat back to stare at Finn. “Something bothers you about this.”

  “A lot of things. Just add this one to the list of things that make me increasingly concerned about what we’re going to find when we get to Luxor. It goes back to your original question to Will. Why the hell would a bunch of professionals give any credence to a curse?”

  “You think it’s more of a stall tactic?”

  “Why not? We both know the museum’s had a hell of a time getting all their permits. That’s part of why they pulled me in on the job. I know the region and I’ve got my connections with the government and I was able to expedite a few things in exchange for giving my firm’s services to the Egyptian government.”

  Not for the first time did Rowan see the depth of Finn’s expertise and knowledge. He’d built a wildly successful global business and knew how to go toe-to-toe with the major players in their industry.

  So why couldn’t he see how he risked that by holding on to the Victoria bracelet?

  An awkward silence descended between them and Rowan couldn’t help but be sa
d for it. They’d had an easy, comfortable flow to their conversation, and the night before had obviously put a damper on that. And she had no one to blame but herself.

  Perhaps it was for the best.

  “I’m going to set myself up in a conference room, if that’s okay. I’ll email my brother and get him looking into the websites Will’s been haunting.”

  “Stay here. I have some meetings I need to see to. Celeste can get you anything you need.”

  “You don’t need to leave.”

  “Really. I was on my way out anyway.”

  She watched him go, regret like sludge in her veins. Whatever sexy moments they’d shared the night before had been effectively squashed by her lack of warmth this morning.

  But instead of feeling as if she’d won the round, all she could muster up was the vague sense she’d lost the game.

  * * *

  Finn stepped out of the building and headed for a coffee shop around the corner. It was still early and the morning throng of people came alive as they rushed their way to work. He caught fragments of conversations as people passed, but it all swirled by in a blur, his own thoughts a whirling haze.

  Damn it, the woman was infuriating.

  He knew he hadn’t done himself any favors the previous evening, but hell, she wouldn’t even accept the most casual of greetings when he’d attempted to kiss her cheek.

  The long line that snaked through the shop didn’t help his raging irritation, but he’d be damned if he went back to the office so soon. So he stood in line and fumed as the rich scents of coffee, steamed milk and breakfast muffins assaulted his senses.

  When he finally got to the counter, he’d calmed enough to put in his order and added a scone for good measure. The coffee would help the headache brewing behind his eyes, and the scone would hopefully go a long way toward sweetening his mood.

  It was only after he’d picked up both and started back to the office that a frisson of awareness skated over his skin. He moved out of the throng of people to stand against the wall of a nearby office building, his gaze scanning the crowd for any indication of what might have set his radar off.