Alastair Burke liked two things a hell of a lot—order and control.

He especially liked when things were under his control. He shoved the idiot thieves ahead of him into the Dashwood’s security room.

One was white-faced but belligerent, and the dark-haired one was crying.

“So, the babe?” Belligerent asked. “She’s like museum security?”

Babe? A muscle ticked in Alastair’s jaw. “She is none of your concern. You two are in big fucking trouble.”

He led them into a small, windowless office. It had a desk and two chairs.

“Sit.”

Both boys obeyed.

Alastair’s partner, Agent Thomas Singh appeared. The younger man was impeccably dressed, his smile white against his brown skin.

“Busy morning?” The agent handed Alastair a sheaf of papers.

“Looks that way.”

“At least there haven’t been any crashing planes.”

“We aren’t joking about plane crashes.”

“Right.” Thom looked like he was trying not to laugh. “Call me if you need me.”

Alastair circled the table and looked at the printouts of Darcy’s search. “So, Patrick and James…” he stared at them “…talk.”

“It was supposed to be an easy job,” Belligerent, also known as Patrick Evan Theodore III said. “No alarms, everybody busy with the new exhibit. Jam the cameras, that’s all he said we had to do. He said it’d be a walk in the park.”

Alastair’s instincts sharpened. “Who?”

“The dude.” The other young man—James Frederick Hyland—swiped his cheeks with his sleeve. “He contacted us in a private message in an online group, uh…” He looked nervously at his friend. “A group for people looking for thrills.”

God save him from bored, rich kids. “Go on.”

The young men were both silent and looked at each other.

Alastair pressed his palms to the table, leaning forward. “If you talk, it might help get a reduction on your charges and possible sentence.”

“Sentence?” James squeaked.

“You got caught red-handed trying to steal a valuable artifact from a museum. You can’t wriggle out of that.”

“Shit.” Patrick dropped back in his chair. “Dad’s going to kill me.”

James’ eyes were as wide as dinner plates. “I’m going to Harvard in the fall.”

Alastair pushed his jacket back and set his hands on his hips. “Who contacted you?”

“Just a username. Turpan.”

The name of an important oasis stopover in China located on the ancient Silk Road route. Alastair bit back a curse. Silk fucking Road. Dammit.

There was a knock at the door and Thom poked his head inside. “Police are here.”

Both young men moaned.

Alastair stopped by Thom. “Go with them and see if you can get any more information out of them. Silk Road sent them in here for a reason.” His partner nodded.

Leaving the security offices, Alastair headed back to the lobby. Workers were setting up display cases for the upcoming exhibit.

And bent over the long, rectangular display where the diamonds would rest was Darcy.

The way she was angled, he had the perfect view of her ass covered by form-fitting dark denim. He stopped, his fingers curling into his palms. He forced himself to take a few deep breaths.

“Darcy.”

She swiveled, her glossy, dark hair brushing her jaw. “I was just checking the pressure sensors. How are the man-boys?”

The name made him want to laugh, which was strange, because he never laughed. “On their way to the police station and sweating bullets. Silk Road sent them in here to take the sculpture.”

She hissed out a breath. “I’m not surprised.” She paused. “For what purpose?”

“Don’t know yet. To test the system? To cause problems?” His gaze fell on the display behind her.

The case was currently empty, but soon it would house the three diamonds that would be the centerpiece of the exhibit.

Alastair felt something trickle through him. This was it. This was his chance to finally stop Silk Road once and for all. His gut hardened.

His chance to avenge his mother’s murder.

“Burke?”

Darcy was watching him, and he dragged in a breath. His gaze fell to her lips. Today, she’d painted them a soft, sexy pink.

He’d kissed those lips on the plane yesterday, and he’d thought of that kiss every minute of the last twenty-four hours.

She was a pretty big distraction. Burke didn’t do distractions.

“Burke?” She was frowning now. “Are you coming down with something?”

“No.” He nodded at the case. “Is it ready?”

“Yes. Pressure sensors, cameras.” She waved an elegant hand in the air. “The whole place is rigged to the gills.”

“Good.” He’d known she was the perfect person for this job—smart, clever, and no pushover.

“So, the diamonds are here?” She licked her lips.

Alastair watched her tongue flick out between her soft lips and felt it in his gut. He shook his head. “Yes, they’re here. I’ll show you.”

He moved to take her elbow, when a deep voice echoed across the lobby, followed by heavy footsteps. “Burke!”

Alastair turned and found himself facing one pissed-off brother.

“Declan,” Alastair said.

Darcy shot her brother a cautious smile. “Hey, Dec.”

Declan Ward crossed his muscular arms over his chest. “You almost got my sister killed yesterday.”

The man still looked like the SEAL he’d once been. Starting Treasure Hunter Security with his siblings hadn’t softened him one bit. He glared at Alastair with eyes a similar blue-gray shade as his sister’s.

“She’s fine,” Alastair said. “Alive and well.”

“She almost ended up in a fucking plane crash.”

“Ah, boys—” Darcy started.

They ignored her.

“Silk Road is to blame,” Alastair said. “Actually, Darcy was the one who saved the day.”

Dec pushed into Alastair’s face. “My sister gets hurt, I’m holding you responsible.”

Yep, definitely pissed. “I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen. This just makes it more imperative that our plan to take down the Collector succeeds.”

“Hello, I’m in the room.” Darcy had crossed her arms, and was tapping the toe of her shoe on the ground.

Dec growled. “She’s in Silk Road’s sights now, and you put a target on her. I should never have let her take this job.”

Darcy hissed. “Let me? Let me? We’re co-owners of our business, Declan. You don’t give me orders, or pick what jobs I can take.”

Burke smiled. He was happy, for once, not to be on the receiving end of Darcy’s sharp tongue.

“Darcy—” Dec began.

“No.” She sliced her hand through the air. “Silk Road’s been targeting you, Cal, and the rest of our team for years. They nearly killed Sloan and Diego just this week. Enough is enough. They need to be stopped.”

“It’s too dangerous—”

Darcy stepped closer, her killer heels clicking on the tiles, and skewered her brother with a look hot enough to melt metal.

“What? Because I’m female, I can’t do my bit? Because I don’t have bulging muscles, a gun, or a penis, I can’t do my job? Because I’m not a badass ex-SEAL, I can’t help protect the people I care about?”

Dec pressed his lips together and thrust his hands on his hips.

Alastair felt a laugh well up in his chest. Damn, that was twice in one day. He cleared his throat.

Two sets of gray eyes swung his way.

“You know, I always wanted a sibling.” He paused. “Now I’m kind of glad I’m an only child.”

Darcy’s eyes, a shade bluer than her brother’s, narrowed. Alastair had been around her long enough to know that little move meant she was headed toward blasting him next.

A distraction was required. “Would you like to see the diamonds now?”

Darcy stilled, then turned her back on her brother. “Yes, I would.”

Alastair looked at Declan. “I’ll do whatever I have to do to ensure her safety.”

He saw Darcy’s eyes widen, before he moved past her and headed out of the lobby.

* * *

Darcy followed Burke into the vault, deep in the bowels of the museum. They passed armed guards, and at the heavy-duty metal door, she watched him press his palm to a high-tech lock. The museum had an electronic locking system throughout the building, and Darcy had added several enhancements to it.

The lock beeped and the door opened.

She was still amped up from her argument with Dec. They hadn’t shouted…much. Dec could go bossy alpha male at the drop of a hat, but she let him off since she knew he was just worried.

The sooner they had the opening gala and sprung this trap, the better.

Burke stepped back and motioned her into the main vault. The room was lined with shelves, and on a table in the center was a large rectangular box.

Darcy sucked in a breath. Burke waved her closer, and they stood side-by-side in front of the box. He was so close she felt the heat of his body. Butterflies fluttered in her belly. It was just excitement to see the diamonds, of course.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded.

He spun the locks on the case and lifted the lid.

She gasped. “Holy cow.” Three diamonds were nestled in small impressions in the black velvet.

Two were simply loose stones and one was set in a necklace.

On the left was a huge, blue-tinted, cushion-cut diamond. It was gorgeous.

“That’s the Regent,” Burke said. “One hundred and forty carats, and considered the most beautiful and purest diamond in the world.”

Darcy wouldn’t disagree. “Where’s it from?”

“It’s housed in the Louvre now, and once rested in the crown of Louis XV, adorned the hat of Marie Antoinette, and was set in the pommel of the sword of Napoleon Bonaparte.”

“Wow. Quite a pedigree.”

“Rumor has it that it came from India. From the Kollur Mine. A slave hid it in an open wound to smuggle it out.”

“Ew.”

“An English sea captain murdered the slave and stole the diamond. That’s how it ended up in Europe.” Burke’s face remained impassive. “Because so much misfortune fell on those who possessed the stone, it’s said to be cursed.”

“How much is it worth?”

“About sixty-five million dollars.”

Darcy choked. “Holy cow. And the Louvre let you have it?”

“On the proviso that we return it, of course.” His tone was dry. He pointed to the diamond on the right. The stone was pear-shaped, smaller in size, and a pale-yellow color.

“That’s the Sancy. Fifty-five carats, and also hailing from India, it was once reputed to be owned by the Mughals.”

“Who were descended from Mongolian tribes.”

“Yes. It’s been in and out of the hands of various European royalty. It was brought to Europe by a French soldier, de Sancy. It was rumored to have been carried by a messenger to the king, but he was set upon by thieves. It was thought stolen, but de Sancy was convinced the man was loyal. They cut open the dead man’s stomach and found the Sancy inside him.”

“Yikes, that’s some loyalty.” She tilted her head. “What’s this one worth?”

“Six and a half million.”

Nothing to sneeze at. “And both of these are from the Louvre?”

He nodded. “Once I heard the Black Orlov was a part of the collection going on display at the Dashwood, I knew we needed a little more enticement to ensure the Collector was interested. I convinced the Louvre to add the Regent and Sancy to the exhibit.”

Three priceless diamonds…all of them allegedly cursed.

Darcy’s gaze fell on the center stone.

This gem was truly unique. It was a dark gray, almost black against the white diamonds in the necklace framing it.

“The Black Orlov,” Burke said. “Almost sixty-eight carats, and also called the Eye of Brahma.”

Darcy moved closer. “I read that it’s from a shrine in India.”

“Yes. Stolen from an ancient statue of the Hindu creator god, Brahma, by a Jesuit monk.”

“And it’s cursed?”

“It’s said to cause whoever possesses it to commit suicide.” There was an edge of amusement in his tone. “Rumor says the diamond dealer who first took the Black Orlov to New York to sell it ended up taking his life by jumping off a skyscraper. Later, two Russian princesses who owned it—one named Nadia Orlov, who it was named after—both jumped to their deaths, as well.”

Darcy turned to face him. “You don’t believe the curse?”

He shrugged. “I don’t believe in curses.”

“At THS, we’ve seen some pretty freaky stuff—lost temples, amazing healing salves, certain items confiscated by a mysterious team in black. And I know you have, too.”

His green eyes stayed impassive.

“And Team 52—”

“Don’t talk about them.” Burke turned back to the case. “I have another job for you.”

Darcy heaved out a sigh. “Of course, you do. What now?”

“I need trackers placed on each of these diamonds. Trackers that are undetectable.”

Her mouth dropped open and she stared at the diamonds. “You’re kidding me.”

“Nope.” Burke crossed his arms. His jacket was unbuttoned, so she had a clear view of the way his white shirt pulled tight on his hard chest.

She tried not to notice, but the guy was ripped, she was sure of it. She’d always imagined FBI agents as a little overweight and balding, but not Burke.

Focus, Darcy. “First of all, tech like that doesn’t exist. And to add to the problem, two of these are just loose diamonds. There’s nowhere to hide a tracker.”

“I know you’re up for a challenge.”

She growled. “I’m good, Burke, but not a magician.”

“So, you’re saying you can’t do it?”

Damn, she saw the challenge in his eyes. Her brothers had learned early that the quickest way to get her to do something was to challenge her.

It looked like Burke knew her secret. He was manipulating her, dammit. “You think you know me so well.”

“I do.”

She shook her head.

“I know your middle name,” he said.

Her eyes widened. She never told anyone her middle name. “You do not.”

“Try me.”

She narrowed her gaze. “You repeat it, I’ll hack your computer and leave a virus that will make you weep.”

The annoying man just raised a brow. “So, the trackers?”

“Fine. I’ll see what I can do, but I’m not making any promises.”

He looked smug. “Okay.”

“If I do this, you owe me. Big time.”

His eyes flashed. “Whatever you want. I’ll do anything to make sure we catch the Collector.”

She heard the iron determination in his voice. Not for the first time, she wondered what drove him. Keeping her tone light, she raised a brow. “Better be careful there, Burke. You have no idea what I might demand.”

“I think I can handle it.”

Darcy suddenly had the suspicion they were talking about something else. She cleared her throat. “I’ll make some calls.”

He shot her a faint smile and damn if it wasn’t a good one.

Focus, Darcy.