chapter three
“It seems our old friends at Interpol want you back.”
Rafe lounged against the far wall of the intake room. He would think after all this time he would be used to rooms with no windows. “What can I tell you, Alan? I’m a likable guy. But no thanks. I like being a civilian. You know, drinking pumpkin ass-tasting lattes or whatever at Starbucks.”
His handler didn’t seem impressed with his jokes. “Can you be serious for a moment?”
Rafe forced his shoulders to relax. Normally everyone was telling him to loosen up. He used to be a company man, followed the rules to the letter. But hello, disenchantment, my old friend.
He didn’t miss this. The secrecy, the hiding out. He still checked in every week like clockwork out of habit. Because there were active cases he had worked on for years. And even though he was a Blake Security man now, he wanted to see those cases play out. Thankfully that was coming to an end.
He’d given his family up for the job. Well, no more. He was done doing favors. He had Lulu back now. He wasn’t getting dragged back into some undercover gig.
Right about now, he was in the zero-fucks-to-give category. Besides, it would be next to impossible to make undercover work for him. And he wasn’t leaving Lulu vulnerable again. It had been an overly interesting year already. It wasn’t like Noah wasn’t strong enough or deadly enough to protect his sister. But they’d just gotten their lives started, and he didn’t want to bring trouble to their door. Not that trouble didn’t seem to find them.
Or at least that was how he rationalized it. “You’ve got my full attention.”
“Glad to hear it. Right now we’ve got problems from an old friend of yours.”
His inner killer, the part of himself he kept chained up in the dungeon of his brain, started to stretch out. Easy. We don’t do that anymore.
“What now?” He rolled onto the balls of his feet. Ready, poised for action. And that was the underlying problem. He was always ready. Always poised for action.
Truth be told, he wasn’t sure he could do normal. What kind of woman wanted a guy who was always ready for a fight… or worse? He knew from his sister’s experience that the kind of physical security required for a relationship with someone like him was stifling.
“Do you remember the Vandergraffs?”
Oh hell. Did he ever remember them. As much as he tried to forget, there was no shoving them out of his mind. Those dark eyes looking up at him. “Yes, of course I remember them.”
Dieter Vandergraff had been a sanctioned hit. The CIA had farmed out the job to ORUS. It had been part of a joint task force effort to see which organization could get the closest. Of course, his former employer had been the one to get it done. He’d been the one to get it done.
“What about them?”
There was a knock at the door and Alan called out, “Come in.”
“Alan, sorry I’m late.” She turned her attention to Rafe. “Agent DeMarco? Long time no see.”
Oh shit. Emilie. How long had it been since he’d seen her?
The woman standing on the other side of the room had long hair in such a deep red color that he’d always doubted it could be real. She was pale and statuesque, with the kind of curvy figure and impossibly small waist that usually had men’s tongues hanging out. Her eyes were dark, and she blinked at him from behind delicate, fluttery lashes. She was beautiful. Rafe acknowledged the fact in a distant fashion, but when their eyes met, he felt nothing but wariness.
Emilie Durand was the type of woman who could cut your throat and have you smiling throughout the entire thing. Dangerous.
“Rafe, you remember Interpol Agent Emilie Durand?”
There was nothing in Alan’s voice to indicate hostility, but Rafe got the distinct impression that his handler wasn’t too fond of the woman in question. And he understood why.
“Agent Durand.”
“Nice to see you again, Agent DeMarco.” Emilie held out her hand, and Rafe shook it quickly, pulling back when she held on a moment too long. Ah, that is going to be a problem, he thought when he registered the look of interest in her eyes. She wasn’t even bothering to hide the fact that she was ogling him. Some things never change.
“Can you bring me up to speed?” He directed the question at Alan, but Agent Durand was the one who answered.
“Since Dieter Vandergraff’s death, the family has mostly been quiet. Small-time gigs. We primarily allowed the Austrian authorities to deal with them in whatever manner they saw fit. But it looks like they’ve gotten into bed with the Russian mob. And they’ve ramped up their father’s old business pursuits and have started making a nuisance of themselves in a major way.”
Rafe scowled as he thought of Dieter Vandergraff’s sons. At the time he’d taken out their father, they’d been younger, small-time thugs. They certainly hadn’t been strong enough or powerful enough to take over their father’s empire. Their organization should have withered away, but they’d apparently proved more resilient than he’d thought.
“What do you want from me?” He prayed the answer would be nothing. It was the only job that still haunted him after all these years. Those dark eyes.
He’d left one crucial fact off his original report. Dieter’s daughter. Their intel had said she wasn’t supposed to be at the house. Before she’d had a chance to scream, he had his hand over her mouth. He knew what was in the ORUS playbook for such events. And he knew that as an FBI agent on a joint task force team with the CIA and Interpol, he should have put her in the report. But he hadn’t.
His omission might be coming back to bite him in the ass now.
He had taken her to a closet and told her to stay quiet. And she’d been so terrified she did exactly as he asked. He wasn’t sure why he’d left her off the report. The Feds and Interpol would’ve hardly expected him to harm a civilian.
The CIA was a different game. They were almost as brutal as ORUS. So he’d stayed silent about her presence there.
“Interpol has issued a red notice for the Vandergraffs. They’re implicated in a massive human trafficking operation that covers most of Western Europe. Of course, they’ve been on several countries’ radar for decades now, as I’m sure you’re aware, but they were always very careful to keep their tracks clear.”
Rafe ignored the look she sent his way when she said as I’m sure you’re aware since she’d obviously seen the files relating to their previous operation in Austria. Having been deep undercover with ORUS at the time, his files at the FBI wouldn’t have revealed that he was the one responsible for the hit on Dieter Vandergraff, but he figured she could guess. She seemed like the type to read between the lines. Exactly what he didn’t need.
“So they’re here. In New York?”
“Yes, so we all need to be on alert. Likely they’re not here for vacation. They want something.” Alan finally pushed away from the wall and walked closer. Although he’d included them both when he spoke, Rafe was pretty certain the message was for him.
“You think they know we’re working on a case against them?”
Alan nodded. “No doubt they’re building up their contacts here in North America because they’re on the radar of law enforcement agencies in so many countries in Europe. With their contacts, they could easily take up new identities in the States and start an entirely new criminal enterprise here. They just need funds and to partner with the right organization. They appear to be having financial problems.”
That took Rafe by surprise. The Vandergraffs had always been a different level of wealthy. He whistled. He couldn’t imagine blowing through that kind of money in ten lifetimes. “What do you think prompted the sudden move? Surely they could have found ways to make money in Europe.”
Emilie smiled at him. “Perceptive. They’re after the Jewel of the Sea.”
Rafe frowned. “Am I supposed to know what that is?”
She slipped a photo over to him of a brilliant diamond. “This is the Jewel of the Sea. It’s worth over $25 million now. It’s a Vandergraff family heirloom from their mother. She was some kind of countess or something. She came from an old family name without much liquid wealth but with a title and lands and all that jazz. That diamond is passed on from mother to daughter. It vanished right around the time of Dieter Vandergraff’s death.”
And there it was—the tickle along the nape of his neck that told him all was not right with his fucked-up world. Rafe kept his voice even. “So, what do you want from me?”
“Everything you have on them. Comb your old files. If these two are here, it’s problematic for all of us.”
He gave her a sharp nod. “I’ll look through what I have and give ORUS a call. Most of the files you’re after would have been under the old leadership and not available to us. But I’ll ask.” For now he’d leave out that he had access to those files.
She gave him a smile that was all teeth. She didn’t trust him. Well, that goes both ways, sister.
“You do that. Before you go though, are you sure you were entirely forthcoming about that night you were there?”
So it was like that? Good thing he’d been trained to do nothing but lie. After all, survival depended on it. “Absolutely. You know what I know.”
She nodded. “Okay then, I’d love to take a look at whatever files you can dig up. You know, fresh eyes and all that.”
The hell he’d give her ORUS files without redacting them first. Interpol had been less than successful trying to get in with ORUS. Since the new leader was currently an ally of sorts, he sure as shit wasn’t giving Emilie Durand her in. “Of course. If we’re done, I’m out.”
She slid her glance over him again. “I understand that you’re pseudo retired. Care to share what you’re up to these days?”
He grinned. “Nope.” Turning his attention back to Alan, he nodded. “I’ll get you what you need.”
Rafe took the same underground pass he usually took, then went through a series of checkpoints that led to the exit. From there, he deliberately took over an hour to get home. Just to make sure he wasn’t tailed. Before he’d ‘come back from the dead,’ he’d been stationed in Philly. But after his miraculous resurrection, he’d moved back to New York to be closer to Lulu.
And somehow he’d ended up with more family than he’d had in six long years. Granted, they might not all think of him as family. You try to kill some guys one time… and they held it against you.
He knew the drill. To most of the world, Rafe DeMarco was dead. If he didn’t want to resurrect that ghost just yet, he still had to be careful. If the Vandergraffs were kicking up a fuss again, his old life might be coming back to haunt him.
On McMillan, the winding two-lane road he often used as an alternate route home, he saw taillights glowing in a ravine and frowned. What the hell?
He liked this route. It was an old access road that let him bypass the freeway. Technically it was only meant for government and Parks and Recreation access, but Noah had ways of bypassing pesky access rules.
The weather hadn’t given way to spring yet, and as there weren’t very many streetlights, the road was often dark and desolate. And with the added benefit of the rain that had started an hour ago, it was eerie.
He reached the embankment where the light shone brightest and stopped his car. Fuck balls, someone had gone over. “Hello? Is anyone down there?”
There was a faint rustling, and Rafe strained to hear better. Then he heard what he was looking for.
“Help.”
Shit. “Are you hurt?” He couldn’t see a fucking thing thanks to the rain. He could see the steam rising up from somewhere down off the embankment, but very little else. All he heard was that voice.
“I’m hurt, but I can walk. I climbed out of the car.”
“Visibility is shit right now, so I need you to move closer to the lights. I’m coming down for you.”
There was a pause of silence. “Don’t be ridiculous. Just call for help or something. You come down here and we’ll both be stuck trying to climb up a mudslide.”
Rafe’s lips twitched. “Have a little faith, would you?”
“I have plenty of faith in AAA. The fire department even. Not some random wannabe hero.”
Even with the rain dripping into his face and the cold air puffing out of his lungs, he had to stifle a laugh. “Listen, lady, you want to stay down there longer than you have to? It’s cool. I’ll call the fire department, and we’ll wait the extra twenty minutes it will take them to get out here. Or I can come and get you now, and by the time they get here, you’ll already be safe. Then it will just be a rescue mission for your car. I mean, it’s cold and rainy, but it’s really up to you.”
There was another beat of silence. And then her voice came again, this time sounding as if she spoke through clenched teeth. “Okay, fine.”
“See, I knew you could be reasonable. Give me one minute.”
Rafe couldn’t be sure, but he was pretty certain he heard her say, “You better know what you’re doing.”
He ran back to the driver’s side and pulled his car up several feet, then threw it into park and engaged the hand brake. Next he ran to his trunk and pulled out his rappelling gear. He had his harness on in seconds. He just hoped she didn’t ask too many questions about why the hell he had rappelling gear. What would he say to that? Oh, you know, I just like to do a little building scaling on the weekends. And this was why he could never have a normal life.
Once he had the harness on, he dropped the rope as close to the lights as possible. When he was secured in, he steadied himself on the ledge and stepped backward. Then, foot by foot, he dropped gently, calling out to the woman down below. She was right; the mud was slippery as hell. When he reached her, she was only a few feet up from where the car was. She wore only a thin dress, and her feet were bare.
Shit. She was lucky she didn’t have hypothermia. “Hi. I’m Rafe. I’m going to help you out of here.”
Even wet, shivering, and resembling a tiny drowned animal, she was beautiful. Those dark eyes of hers bore into him as she stared at him. “You were serious about coming down for me?”
Rafe rolled his eyes. “You know, as rescue-ees go, you are a tad ungrateful.” Rafe had the harness around her in seconds and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close. He inhaled for a moment and caught a whiff of vanilla.
So not the right time to realize she was cute and smelled amazing. Focus, man.
Her lips twitched as she met his gaze. “Oh, I’m grateful. I just think you’re crazy. You better have a whole army up there ready to pull us up. Because this mud—”
“Do you always talk this much?”
She opened her mouth, very likely to give him some kind of scathing retort, but then he pressed the electronic switch on his rope ascender and they were zooming up. Definitely not as fast as the system was capable of, given his weight and his rough approximation of hers, but it would do. He had to physically pull them up the last couple of feet, but she helped, mostly by not getting in the way and just clinging to him tightly.
Once they were on solid ground, she still clung to him and Rafe let her. For several beats they stood like that, with her wrapped around him and him encasing her in his arms, giving her some of his warmth.
But then she pulled back. And that mouth of hers started again. “So, are we going to talk about why you have burglary equipment handy?”
Despite himself, he laughed. “So, this is you being grateful? And for your information, I’m a rappeller. It’s a sport.” It was the best he could do in a pinch.
“This is me making sure I haven’t been rescued by a serial killer.”
Rafe rolled his eyes. “I promise you, I’m not Dexter. Why don’t you sit in the car and warm up while we wait for an ambulance to come and check you out.”
Her eyes went wide. “I’m fine. I don’t need an ambulance. Just point me in the direction of downtown, and I have it from here.”
“Are you crazy? It’s miles to Manhattan.”
She squared her shoulders. “So? I’m strong. Thank you very much for your rescue or whatever. But I can take it from here.”
Rafe stared down at her. She was tiny. At least compared to him. “You’re insane if you think I’m going to let you walk. And have you not noticed that you’re barefoot?”
She looked at her feet and wrapped her arms around herself. “I’m fine. I don’t need your help. I’ll just call an Uber or something.”
Rafe stared at her. “Oh yeah? With what phone?”
She narrowed her gaze at him but stayed silent. When she turned her back on him and started walking in the wrong direction, he fought an inner battle with himself. The fact that she didn’t want medical attention and was insistent on walking away from this told him she was in trouble. And the last thing he needed was trouble in his life.
The problem was, as soon as she was ten feet away from him, he was calling after her. “Hey. Let me give you a ride.”
She turned to face him. “Thank you, Rafe. But I have this.”
He chuckled low. “So, is now a good time to tell you you’re walking in the wrong direction?”
And then he saw it, the telltale quiver of her bottom lip. Shit. She was about to cry. He strode up to her and wrapped her in his arms. There was a reason he kept his life simple. There was a reason he stayed alone. The problem was this girl slid under all his defenses. He knew he shouldn’t take her home. But she clearly needed help. Besides, it wasn’t like he didn’t have the best security in the world. She was one tiny girl. How much damage could she really do?
“Look, something tells me you’re in trouble.”
“I am not in trouble. I just need somewhere to lay low for a while.”
He sighed. “Fair enough. Come with me. Although, if you’re going to crash in my spare room, I should probably know your name.”
She blinked wide, dark eyes up at him. “It’s Diana. Diana Renquist.”
Had it really been that easy?
Granted, considering Diana had dragged herself through mud and had nearly gotten hypothermia from the chilly rain, it hadn’t exactly been easy.
But Rafe had done exactly as predicted. Months of watching him had paid off. And now she was in the den of a killer.
How evil can he be? He stopped to help a total stranger. She shut that shit right down. That was her traitor of a vagina talking.
Of course she knew how good-looking he was. But it was nothing compared to having him wrapped around her as he held her in the harness and lifted them out of the ravine. His scent still lingered on her, sending tingles to parts of her body she refused to think with.
What she hadn’t expected was for him to bring her home… to his house. The plan had been to get him to take her to a hotel, give him the cover story, compel him to come back and check on her, and snare him with her feminine wiles. Whatever the fuck those were. But he’d taken her home.
Who does that? She could be a serial killer for all he knew.
Her rib still hurt like hell. The pain radiated down her side. Every now and again, she’d turn too quickly and send searing pain all the way down to her hip.
She sensed Rafe before he spoke and turned to face him as he entered the bedroom he’d given her.
“You feel better after the shower?”
Diana nodded. “Yes. Thank you. I didn’t realize how cold I was. If I’d thought it through properly, I probably should have grabbed my coat from the car when I scrambled out.” More like she’d tossed it when she heard him coming for her. This is a mistake. No. Desperate times called for desperate measures. He’d killed her father.
“Do you have any idea how fortunate you are? I mean, you could’ve died on impact. Not to mention that I came along when I did on such a desolate stretch of road. You must have one hell of a lucky charm.”
“I’m not really a lucky kind of girl.” She dropped her gaze to her hands. She deliberately didn’t look up at him until he spoke again. She had to work hard to pull off the wary, downtrodden thing. She’d learned a long time ago it was better to meet men’s gazes directly. They were less likely to fuck with you if you did. But this is not you. This was Diana Renquist. She needed to put on that persona like a suit.
He held out a T-shirt and a pair of shorts for her. “These should do for now. I just put your clothes in the wash so you’ll have them for tomorrow at least. In the morning, we’ll figure out what your next steps will be.”
She took the clothes from him. “Thank you for this. I know I was kind of a pain in the ass. I’m just not used to people helping me.”
Rafe nodded, then turned his back. There was an awkward pause before Diana figured out he was giving her some privacy to change, although he didn’t leave the room. Quickly she scrambled into the clothes, hissing slightly as she pulled the shirt down.
He whipped around at the sound, just in time to catch her as she pulled the edge of the T-shirt past her ribs.
His brows dropped into an immediate scowl. “That bruise from the crash?”
She lowered her gaze. That would certainly explain it, but what if he knew about injuries and shit? Would the lie pass muster? And well, if he thought someone did it to her, it would certainly tie in to her cover story.
When she didn’t respond, his voice dropped an octave, but somehow instead of going warm and flowing over her like liquid, it went icy and deadly. “Did someone do that to you?”
Oh, protective are you? Where was this protective instinct with my father? She licked her lips. “It’s not a big deal.”
“The hell it isn’t. Who did that to you? Is that the reason you were trying to walk to the city?”
She tilted her chin up. “Look, I am grateful. I really am. You’re right. I could have died down in that ravine. But you came along. You did the whole Good Samaritan thing. But not everyone is like you.”
Wasn’t that the truth? Along the way, she’d met better than him. And worse. He was just the asshole at the top of her list.
“There are guys out there who don’t think twice about hitting a woman. Unfortunately, I happened to meet one of those. And he did this.” That much was the truth. What she left out was that she’d gotten in a good groin kick as retaliation. “It won’t be happening again.” Yeah, she’d bet the fucker had learned some control now.
The look in his golden eyes was murderous, and a chill ran over her skin. There he was. The killer she knew he was didn’t linger too far below the surface.
She shivered as she remembered the first night she’d seen him. He’d had the darkest eyes she’d ever seen, almost black. Those vampire eyes had haunted her nightmares for years. Well, now she was about to be the stuff of his nightmares.
But he didn’t hurt you.
Again, she shoved down that voice. Never mind that he looked good enough to lick. Stupid vagina, there’s a reason you’re not consulted on these types of things.
One thing though… she’d always wondered why he’d left her alive. It would have been cleaner to kill her. After all, she’d seen him. Though she hadn’t seen his face. Why had he just left her in a closet when she was so obviously a loose end? She wasn’t supposed to be home that night, but the friend she was meant to stay with had gotten sick. Her brothers had been gone. It had been just her and her father in the study.
That’s what she needed to remember. Despite the fact that he hadn’t hurt her then, despite the fact that he’d rescued her today, Rafe DeMarco was a monster. It was hard to reconcile. At the same time, he looked capable of murder right now.
“Tell me his name,” he said quietly.
She shook her head. “No. I just want to leave that part of my life behind. I took everything I had when I left. Of course, now it’s all at the bottom of the ravine. Hell, I don’t even have any shoes.”
He frowned as he asked, “What were you planning to do?”
Diana bit her lip. She had a cover story ready. But she didn’t want to oversell it.
“I ran out and just started driving. I figured I’d lay low. Find a place to stay, get a job. I’ve been doing odd jobs and stuff since I graduated, so I’m trying to find myself anyway. Basically, I just needed to disappear for a minute.”
Rafe leveled an intense stare at her, as if he was trying to decipher the lies from the truth. “Okay. You’ll lay low here for as long as you need. In the morning we’ll head to the store and grab you the basics so you’ll at least have shoes.”
She shook her head. “No. You don’t need to do that. Besides, I can’t really go to the store without shoes. I can order stuff online. My accounts are tied to my credit cards, so at least I won’t be a burden for more than a place to stay. I’ll call my card companies in the morning and get them to send me replacements, I guess.”
This was all part of the show. This had been in the works for over a year. The fake ID she had procured came complete with a credit history and a previous rental history, just in case Rafe checked.
“I don’t mind.”
“You’ve been generous enough, just letting me stay here.” She lifted her chin. “I can take care of myself.”
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have to.” He held her gaze for a long moment, and something unexpected happened… Butterflies fluttered low in her belly.
What the hell? No. And this is why we don’t bring a vajayjay to a gunfight. Time to gird her loins.
Just because the guy was being nice now didn’t mean she could be attracted to him. This man was a killer. He had killed her father. Hell, he looked about ready to kill her fictitious boyfriend right now.
“Thank you. For everything. As soon as I have my cards and stuff, I’ll be out of your way.”
He shrugged and shoved his hands into his jeans. “Something tells me it won’t be so bad to have you around for a while.” He inclined his head toward the door. “I’m just down the hall if you need anything. The kitchen is to the left. I put out some soup on the counter. Figured you might be hungry. I’m not much of a cook, but I have a housekeeper and she leaves food for me.”
“Thank you. Again. You really don’t have to do all this.”
His lips twitched into a semblance of a smile. “Do you have to argue with me about everything?”
“Yep. It makes things more interesting.”
Rafe barked out a laugh. “Okay, fair enough. Get some rest. Everything will look better tomorrow.”
When he was gone, she sagged with relief. Holy hell. It was one thing to rehearse and research and watch him from afar. It was a whole other thing to face him. He was just a man. A good-looking assassin guy who rappelled down random ravines to save women he didn’t even know. Her problem was he came across as really sincere and decent. But she knew it was a lie. She’d have to watch herself with him. If he was this good of a liar, no doubt he was an expert at spotting liars. She’d have to be careful.
She ate in the kitchen alone and washed up. But she waited an hour before she dared to venture into the rest of the condo. When they’d first arrived, he took her directly to the enormous guest bathroom, handed her a robe and towels, and pulled out shampoos and soaps for her.
Admittedly, she’d taken her sweet time in the shower. He had one of those multiple-head showers that pretty much massaged her whole aching body. On her ribs, that had hurt, but when she’d angled her body away from the main showerhead, everything else felt like heaven.
The kitchen opened up to a massive great room on the left. And on the right was a room with an arched entryway. She had noted the discreetly placed security cameras when they’d first arrived. This condo was all white and gray and steel. Very modern. Lacking warmth. Very much a bachelor pad. But the taste was impeccable if not cold.
Feet bare, padding across the kitchen floor, Diana walked toward the room on the right. On the walls, there were several pieces of art. If he was hiding something, these pieces would be the perfect cover for a safe.
But before she even had a chance to look behind the first one, she heard footsteps. Or maybe she imagined those? She went to touch the picture frame again, and then she saw the telltale shadow.
Whipping around, she swallowed a squeak. “Oh my God. You scared me.”
Rafe leaned against the entryway to the room. He wore nothing but pajama bottoms that hung low on his hips.
Holy hell.
The man was, in a word, ripped. She stared at his chest for a long moment before gathering her thoughts.
“Sorry, I got a glass of water and I was just trying to get the lay of my surroundings.” She nodded toward the painting. “Is that a Daniel Decker? It’s beautiful. It almost looks like an original.”
Rafe nodded slowly. “It is an original.”
Diana stared at him. He had a freaking original Daniel Decker painting? The British artist had come into fashion in the late eighties. It was said the royal family even had one of his pieces. There was no way someone normal owned a Daniel Decker. They went for hundreds of thousands of dollars.
“Oh shit. I didn’t mean to touch the frame. I assumed—”
His lips did that twisting half-smile thing again, and her skin flushed warm. Okay, him smiling at her was going to be a problem. She had to get a handle on her response to him. He wasn’t the first man to ever smile at her.
Yeah, but he’s the first one to look this good.
“It’s okay. I have motion sensor alarms set for the living room. I should have warned you. The moment you set foot in here, you set off one of them. You can get as close to the painting as you like.”
“Holy cow,” she muttered. “Motion sensors. Wow. Though, I guess with an original Daniel Decker, you probably should have motion sensors. You should probably get a whole like laser-beam situation going.”
And again with that smile. “Would you crawl under it like Catherine Zeta-Jones?”
For a full two seconds, she stared at him. Was he flirting? Because her body certainly thought he was flirting, the way she practically melted into a puddle of hormones. “While I do enjoy a pair of good yoga pants, I’m not quite so desperate to get a look at a Daniel Decker. If I’d known, I’d have peered in here through the dining room.”
“No big deal. The painting belonged to my parents.”
“Wow. Were your parents in the mob?”
His laugh was rich and deep, and it poured over her like warm brandy. “No. It’s actually a pretty cool story. My father won the painting in a card game. He and my mom died when I was sixteen. This and an Abigail Noir photo are the only things of value they left behind. My grandmother refused to sell them even when money was tight.”
“I’m so sorry. Here I am opening up old wounds.”
“It’s okay. It was a long time ago. Come on. I’ll take you back to bed.”
Why, oh why, did her synapses fry at the sound of that? No, you idiot, he doesn’t mean he’s taking you back to his bed.
She had to get a grip. Because as attractive as he was, it was never going to happen. And before this was all over, she was going to lie, cheat, and steal from him to get her answers.