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by Unknown

  “Let me guess.” She eyed him up and down, taking the chance to inspect his black leather jacket and beneath it, the tight white t-shirt that outlined his solid physique. Her gaze dropped lower to his blue jeans, where they were worn and faded over his hips. She forced her gaze down again, to his sturdy boots. Yum. He was built, as well as gorgeous. She’d heard from Doreen in flat 5 that the new guy was quite a dreamboat.

  Flicking back her hair nonchalantly, she put her hand on her hip, interest and curiosity firing her veins. “You’ve got to be the new occupant in flat 8?”

  “Sorry, but no.”

  He seemed amused by her attempts to guess his identity and he was eyeing her with as much curiosity—and interest—as she was sending his way. The unexpected encounter was getting more intriguing by the moment.

  “I’m a friend of your brother.”

  “Alec?”

  He nodded.

  That shed a different light on it. But she’d met most of Alec’s friends. Except—she took another look—oh yes, it had to be: tall, sexy, looks to die for. Realizing who he was, she folded her arms across her chest, her smile turning somewhat more wary. “In that case you’ve got to be the infamous Mr. Oliver Eaglestone.”

  “Nice work. Ever thought of taking a job with MI5?” He

  winked at her.

  “Very funny, but I thought that was more your line?”

  “No, I’m your standard variety Metropolitan Police. I have to say your skills of deduction are pretty good and with your killer looks, MI5 might consider you for undercover work.” He gave her a cheery smile.

  He was trying to get round her for some reason, but she didn’t trust him for a minute. She gave a dismissive laugh. “It wasn’t hard. I know most of Alec’s friends, and your description has been mentioned.”

  He raised an eyebrow in query.

  “My mother does love to gossip,” she added.

  Oops. What was she saying? She didn’t want him to know she and her mother gossiped about Alec and his friends. “Anyway,”

  she said, quickly changing the subject, “what can I do for you, Mr.

  Eaglestone, or is it a pastime of yours stalking round bushes in the dead of night, putting the heebie-jeebies into women on their way home?”

  “As I said, we should talk.” He took another step closer, his expression growing serious again. He put one hand on her shoulder, an action that startled her, not least because it set all her hungry female instincts into overdrive. He seemed to be reaching out to reassure her, but she was responding in a much more basic way.

  The man was pure sex, and he was touching her. The result was inevitable. Her body was burning up in response.

  “I really hate to ruin your evening by telling you this, but Alec called me and asked me to get in touch with you. He’s in trouble and I—“

  “In trouble?” she interrupted. Her blood froze in a heartbeat.

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “I don’t think we should discuss it here.”

  “Then come inside.” She rattled her keys. She was fast growing impatient. Mention of trouble and Alec did that to her. She disliked most of his supposedly recreational activities: mountain climbing, trekking through the Amazonian jungle, womanizing on a grand scale, that kind of thing, and Oliver Eaglestone was the man who encouraged him into it. He was his best mate, his philandering friend, which meant she instinctively thought Oliver was trouble with a capital ‘T,’ even though she’d never actually met him before.

  “No, look, I can’t explain right now, but it might not be safe.

  I know this will sound crazy to you, but Alec’s got mixed up in something illegal. He’s being used, but you might be implicated as well. I want to get you away from here, then I’ll explain everything.” He took in the mistrustful look she was giving him and added, “I promise.” He indicated a parked car further down the curb, something low slung and black.

  “He’s not… hurt, is he?” She could barely bring herself to ask.

  Her stomach had started to churn.

  He shook his head and stroked her arm soothingly. Despite the alarm bells he’d set off and the fact her imagination was working overtime on possible ‘Alec in trouble’ scenarios, his touch sent a flame right through her.

  “Come on, please, I’ll explain just as soon as we get away from here.”

  She noticed that he glanced over his shoulder, as if keeping an eye on the street. He was obviously concerned about Alec. She didn’t really have a choice if she was going to find out what the hell was going on here, but she was thrown by the riot of conflict-ing emotions his sudden appearance had brought about. She needed a moment to gather her thoughts.

  “Give me a couple of seconds, will you?”

  He nodded, his expression watchful.

  She took a deep breath, pushed her hair away from her face, closed her eyes and counted to ten. Alec was in trouble. Whatever she thought of Oliver Eaglestone, she had to find out what was going on.

  “Okay, lead the way, I’ll hear you out.”

  ***

  Oliver watched her climb into the passenger seat of his MG, trying to reconcile the vague, rather uninviting image he had formed of ‘Alec’s sister’ with this total sexbomb diva.

  Alec had called her a tough, Home Counties girl with a bright future in government research. He’d pictured a dull scholarly type, the type of woman who thought mucking out the stables on a weekend was good for the soul.

  Wrong.

  Then there was Mrs. Harmond, Alec and Sonia’s mother. She’d repeatedly mentioned that she couldn’t understand why her daughter hadn’t settled down with a nice young man yet. He’d pictured a woman dedicated to her career, a serious-faced spinster.

  Wrong again.

  He blamed The Widow Harmond—as Alec called her—for mis-

  leading him. She’d trapped him using a plate of delectable home-cooked food as bait and then she worked real hard to promote and sell her daughter, Sonia. He’d naturally assumed Sonia was some kind of frump, as any man in that situation would. It was a natural assumption to have made, he reassured himself.

  Then there was the fact that it was his friend’s sister. You weren’t supposed to have instantaneous sexual hankerings toward your friend’s sister. It just wasn’t done. That was part of The Good Friend Code. As was dropping everything you were doing to help out when the friend was about to be thrown into a foreign jail.

  Sonia had confused him and thrown all his previous assump-

  tions out of the window. She wasn’t a scholarly type, not to look at, nor was she a hard-faced spinster.

  When Alec had called asking for help, he mentioned Sonia usually went out on Friday and so he’d waited in ambush. When he’d first seen those long, sexy legs emerging from the cab, he’d been fascinated. When the entire, luscious woman emerged, his attention was fully engaged. She’d swung out of the cab in a movement that triggered his deeper, more carnal interests; she was sensual, fluid and lissome. His hands had itched to hold her, to touch her. Like the desire to stroke a sleek, wild cat.

  Then she had smiled and bowed to her friends and the suggestion of her warm, fun personality immediately made an impression on him. He’d never seen a picture of Sonia so he’d just assumed that she wasn’t the target he was awaiting, until her friend had called out Sonia’s name.

  When he had realized it was her, he’d stalled. It was the smile on her face, the laughter in her voice, the obvious pleasure of a good evening out with her friends. He hadn’t wanted to crash her party with the bad news and he’d hesitated. But she’d been aware of him. Classy, sexy and bright. He was impressed—he had to admit it.

  Settling into the passenger seat, she turned to him and smiled.

  “Sexy car.”

  Her mouth was wide and full, stunningly inviting. Her hair bounced whenever she moved, the mop of black waves invited him to weave his fingers through it. He wanted to tease strands out while he looked into those expressive amber e
yes of hers. They sparkled with challenge and more—the hint of sexy thoughts going on in her mind. That did bad things to a man, made a man lose his train of thought.

  He turned the key in the ignition, glancing at the clock on the dash. He would have to explain on the way to their destination, but how much could he get away with not telling her? She might get difficult. She didn’t look like the hysterical type but you never can tell with women. He’d always prided himself that he could cope with just about anything, except a hysterical woman.

  He took a deep breath. He had to explain the big picture, win her over, and convince her to break into a government office on a hunt for evidence, and that was just for starters. He also had to do all of that before they arrived at the door of said government building.

  He did a quick route map in his head while he assessed the level of traffic. The streets weren’t busy, mostly cabs circulating the club routes. Westminster was about eight minutes away from Chelsea, tops, at this time of night. He didn’t have long.

  “Sonia,” he began, as he pulled the car out into the street, “this is probably going to be difficult for you to take in, and I’m going to have to ask you to trust me on what I’m about to tell you.”

  She folded her arms across her chest, eyes narrowed, a defensive but expectant look on her face. Mistrust poured out of her. She had one eye on the road and his driving. This wasn’t going to be easy.

  “Alec phoned me from Prague. He was asked to carry and de-

  liver a package of papers—”

  “Yes, by Tarquin Smythe, my boss,” she interrupted.

  He nodded and accelerated, putting his foot down, getting

  through the Chelsea shopping streets in a matter of seconds, short-cutting through Pimlico and heading for the river.

  “So what’s the problem? It’s just a job. Tarquin overheard me talking about Alec’s courier jaunts and when I mentioned he was off to Prague this weekend, Tarquin asked me for his contact number, said he’d give him a job on the side to help fund his trip.”

  Oliver nodded again. So far so good. She was taking it in, but how would she react when she realized her boss had asked her brother to carry something that wasn’t Alec’s usual type of document? He sped the car up, taking it outside a double-parked taxi, despite the oncoming traffic. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw her hands grab for the dash. She had fast reactions. That was good news. She might need them.

  “Exactly.” He scooted the car back into its lane just in the nick of time. “But he’s discovered that the papers contain information relating to an illegal arms shipment that’s taking place on the Czech border. He wants to turn the documents in, but he’s afraid he might be implicated and take the fall for it.”

  “Wait a minute,” she blurted. “There must be some mistake, a misunderstanding.”

  This was what he was expecting, and he braced himself for

  worse to come. She was a loyal employee. Her feelings would be divided until she got the full picture.

  “Alec’s got it wrong,” she continued, “Tarquin wouldn’t be involved in anything like that. I mean, my opinion of the man isn’t particularly high, but he couldn’t afford to be involved in anything seriously dodgy. He’s a senior European government liaison officer. He’d lose his job if it came out.” She shook her head emphatically. “There’s got to be some mistake.”

  “Well, that’s what we’ve got to find out,” he said, trying to bring her on board. They’d reached the river and were making time on the dual carriageway. He could see the Tate Gallery spot lit on the opposite bank of the Thames. They weren’t far off now. “If Alec’s right, he could be in deep trouble. He phoned me because I have experience of surveillance work and data encryption. If we can find a way to anchor this with someone other than Alec, he’ll be safe to turn the papers over to the police.”

  He glanced over. She was staring ahead at the road, her hands twisting in her lap.

  “You’d want to help clear his name, if it were true, wouldn’t you?”

  “Of course I would,” she blurted, “I just can’t believe what you are saying, I mean—illegal arms!”

  “I know.” He reached over and patted her arm, then instantly regretted it when he felt the urge to linger and stroke and tease her until she purred. This wasn’t the time or the place for thinking about the more pleasurable activities they might enjoy, if things were different.

  And if she wasn’t Alec’s sister.

  “Take your time,” he added. “I know it’s a lot to take on board.”

  Actually, she had less than a minute before they reached the office building, and he still had to convince her to help him break into Tarquin’s office. They’d passed Lambeth Bridge. He could see the Houses of Parliament on the opposite side of the river. “I’ll do all I can to help. It’ll be off the record though. It has to be, and he’s laying low until Sunday evening, when he has to do the drop.”

  “Sunday evening,” she repeated, her tone dazed.

  They were within sight of the building. “Yes, if we’re going to help Alec, we have to start right away, and I think we should start by looking for evidence in Tarquin’s office.”

  Silence.

  He could feel her eyes boring into the side of his face as he parked up in the neighboring street to her workplace.

  “Excuse me?” Her tone was incredulous.

  He switched the engine off, glancing around to make doubly sure he’d picked a reasonably inconspicuous place to park.

  “Are you trying to suggest what I think you’re trying to suggest?” she demanded. “You want me to snoop in Tarquin’s office in the dead of night? You’ve got to be kidding!”

  He smiled. “You know, I like you.” He tossed the car keys in his hand while he spoke. “You’re attractive, hellish sexy and, for one o’ clock in the morning, you’re very bright indeed.”

  “And you’re a cheeky so-and-so who has got to be winding me up.”

  Despite the feisty retort, the expression in her eyes was pleading. She so wanted it not to be true. He couldn’t blame her; so did he, but he’d had the chance to come to terms with Alec’s predica-ment.

  “Please tell me it’s a joke. You and Alec are having a joke at my expense, and you’re going to take me home now.”

  Now she looked like a little lost kitten when a few minutes ago she was a sleek, exotic cat. What a lady. Every new mood she ex-hibited pushed his curiosity rate up. Man, she was having a weird affect on him. Fascination had got him locked on target and she was it.

  “I wish I could, Sonia, I really wish I could.”

  “This is why you came for me, isn’t it? You need me to get in here.” Her eyes wandered from the Government building where she worked, across the river to where The Houses of Parliament loomed up. She swallowed and he could see her heart was beating fast, the rise and fall of her breast catching his eye.

  He nodded and gave her a moment to take it in. He had the

  feeling she’d get out of the car and stomp off if he didn’t keep her engaged. “I’m afraid I’ve done a bit of background digging on the trader Alec has to meet. He buys up arms out of the old eastern block. It’s his primary source. The documents could be the papers necessary to ship diplomatic baggage.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It’s basically immunity from the usual checks. European customs will let whatever it is through without checking the contents.

  I imagine that’s why Tarquin is trying to pass the papers on via a courier. He wouldn’t want to be caught with a forged document of that nature on his person. It’s bad news, whatever the shipment is.”

  “But how did Alec know? He doesn’t normally know what’s in the documents he carries for people, and it’s not like he even reads any other languages outside of French.”

  Goddammit, she was sharp. He was hoping she wouldn’t ask

  questions like that. He shrugged. “He picked something up about the name of the person he had to meet and deci
ded to look a bit further. Unprecedented, yes, but it was a job on the side, and when he saw what the documents were about, he knew he couldn’t just go ahead. He must have got a friend to translate and that’s when he got in touch with me for confirmation.” He hurried through the last part. He didn’t want to tell her who it was that had been translating for Alec in Prague. Let Alec explain that particular gem. “I confirmed the ID of the recipient and said I’d help out.”

  Her lips were pursed as she thought it through.

  “Look,” he said, eager to push on, “put yourself in his position.

  Alec can’t go through with it knowing that arms are at stake, possible terrorist activities. In this day and age it doesn’t bear thinking about. But if we band together we might be able to help him out and stop it going any further.”

  She gave a small nod, but her expression was still mistrustful. “I see what you’re getting at, but why don’t you just suggest that Alec turns it over to the appropriate forces, Interpol or whoever deals with stuff like this in the Czech Republic?”

  “That might well be the best thing to do,” he agreed, “but first I’d like to give Alec something solid to prove his innocence. Tarquin will have his tail covered. He’s used a courier, for a start, and Alec could take the fall. We don’t want that to happen. That’s why we need evidence first.”

  He took a deep breath. This was when he had to voice Alec’s real fears, and when he would come close to scaring her. He didn’t really want to do that, but he also needed her to be aware of the danger. “The other thing is that unfortunately you are already involved, whether you like it or not. You provided the link to the courier. We might be covering your back too.” In more ways than one if Tarquin turned nasty.

  She looked pale, but didn’t flinch. “I see. Well, I’m not worried about me, I have nothing to hide, but I am concerned about my brother.” After a moments silence, she nodded with slow deliberation. “What do we have to do?”

  “I want you to get me into Tarquin’s office.” He nodded in the direction of the target building. “See what we can find. Have you ever been in there after hours?”