Alastair strode through the Dashwood’s transformed lobby. Lights were on everywhere, setting the space gleaming. Guests milled around, wearing tuxedos, silk, satin, and lace. They chatted and sipped drinks from the loaded trays the servers carried through the crowd. A string quartet was playing in one corner.

Glancing toward the diamond display, flanked by large red banners, he saw that the main case was still covered with a black cloth for the unveiling. He spotted the museum’s bigwigs, hobnobbing with several politicians and local celebrities.

But Alastair wasn’t really concerned with who was here and what they were wearing. He scanned the space again, checking the security at the front entrance. Everyone was being wanded to ensure no weapons made it inside. He spotted Thom moving through the crowd, and nodded. He saw several other agents, as well.

He touched his earpiece. “Cameras?”

“All good,” came the response from the security room.

Dec appeared out of the crowd. The rugged man cleaned up well, looking pretty at ease in his tuxedo. An attractive brunette in bronze silk was at his side—his archeologist wife, Dr. Layne Ward.

“Burke.” Dec nodded.

“Evening.” Alastair nodded at Layne. “Dr. Ward.”

She smiled. “Layne. Please.”

Dec’s gaze moved over Alastair’s tux. “You don’t look like an FBI agent tonight.”

“Thank my partner. He has an unhealthy obsession with clothing.” Alastair’s tux didn’t look that different from any other in the room, except for the fact that it fit him perfectly and was clearly custom tailored. How the hell Thom had pulled that off without a fitting, he had no idea. Alastair turned, scanning the room again. “Have you seen Darcy?”

“She’s on her way,” Dec said.

A smile tipped Layne’s lips. “Us girls spent some time getting ready together. It’ll be worth the wait.”

Alastair wasn’t sure what to make of that smile, and looked back at Dec. “Your team is in place?”

The man nodded and discreetly pointed across the room.

Alastair spotted Darcy’s other brother, Callum. He and Dec weren’t quite identical, but it was clear that they were brothers. He was with his wife, Dani, a world-famous photographer. Apparently, the pair had recently been married by a monk in Tibet on one of their round-the-world trips. No surprise, she held a small camera and was taking photos, the lights glinting off her short, beaded, green dress. Her husband was watching her indulgently.

Then Alastair saw Logan O’Connor. He was a hard man to miss. Big, with his tawny hair brushing his shoulders, the man was scowling and tugging at his bowtie. Then Logan’s gaze snagged on something and his face changed. Alastair blinked. The man’s features filled with warmth and the guy was almost…smiling.

The crowd parted, and an elegant, slender blonde in a column of white silk and holding two glasses of champagne glided toward O’Connor. When she reached the man, he slid an arm around her waist and pulled her in for a kiss. God, they looked like beauty and the beast.

“Morgan and Zach are on the mezzanine,” Declan said.

Alastair looked up. Morgan Kincaid was leaning against the railing. She was a tall, athletic brunette, and her short, aquamarine dress showed off her mile-long legs. A man leaned beside her, looking debonair in his tuxedo—archeologist Zachariah James. They were smiling at each other, as though they were sharing a private joke.

Alastair’s gaze moved down the stairs from the mezzanine, and he spotted a small, fit woman with copper-colored hair. Her long black dress swished around her legs, and she tilted her head back to smile at the man by her side. Peri Butler—experienced polar guide. The dark-haired man with her was former SEAL and CIA agent, Ronin Cooper. Alastair was well aware that Cooper was not a man you messed with.

“Hello, Alastair.”

The female voice behind him made him spin. As soon as his gaze fell on the blonde-haired woman in the pale-blue dress, delight hit him. There were days he still missed working with Special Agent Elin Alexander. He moved and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.

Then he pulled back and looked at the handsome man standing beside her, with dark skin and a wide smile.

“I’m still unhappy with you, Hale,” Alastair said. “You stole my best agent.”

Hale Carter pulled Elin to his side. “She still works for the FBI, Burke.” The big man smiled down at her, love on his face. “She just likes the Denver weather better.”

Elin laughed, and Alastair’s chest warmed. It was good to see her happy. For a long time, like Alastair, she’d lived only for her job and for revenge against Silk Road. Carter was a good man, and Alastair was pleased for her.

“Everything’s in place?” Elin kept her voice low.

Alastair nodded. “We’ll unveil the diamonds shortly, and then wait for the Collector to make his move.” He looked at Dec again. “You said your parents were coming.” He hadn’t seen the Wards among the crowd.

“Right here, Agent Burke,” an amused female voice said from behind him. “Were you afraid I was planning to steal something?”

He spun. Professor Oliver Ward, distinguished history professor, stood beside a small, compact woman dressed in midnight-blue. The professor had a handsome face and well-cut graying hair. The woman eyed Alastair boldly with gray eyes. Persephone Ward, renowned—or infamous—treasure hunter. Darcy’s parents.

“Dr. and Mrs. Ward.” He inclined his head. “Of course, I didn’t think you’d steal anything.” Perhaps the thought had crossed his mind.

Persephone Ward’s smile said she knew exactly what he was thinking. “So you’re the agent who’s been driving my daughter crazy.”

“Guilty.” Alastair met the woman’s stare. “To be fair, she does the same to me.”

Oliver smiled and Persephone barked out a laugh.

Alastair looked around again. “Speaking of which, where is Darcy?”

Elin cleared her throat. “Here she comes.”

Alastair turned and felt like the tiles under his feet tilted. His heart knocked hard against his ribs.

The crowd parted as she walked toward them. Fucking hell. He tried to breathe, but it was near impossible, his chest was locked too tight.

She wore silky, shiny red. The dress clung everywhere, but flared out at her feet. The neckline sat off her slim shoulders, showing way too much skin, and showcasing her gorgeous breasts.

“Breathe,” Elin murmured, amusement in her voice.

He finally managed to drag in some air. Darcy’s gaze locked with Alastair’s and she shot him a sultry smile.

“Hi, guys.”

“Darcy, you look amazing.” Layne hugged her sister-in-law.

Alastair just stood there dumbly, watching as she greeted her family and friends. Pressure built inside him.

“You look gorgeous, my darling,” Persephone drawled.

When blue-gray eyes met his again, he circled her arm. “We need to check on some security issues.” He pulled her away from the group and around one of the columns.

Her brows drew together. “Hey—”

He spun her and backed her into the column.

She arched a brow. “I thought you wanted to check on security?”

She’d done something smoky to her eyes, and her lips were a brilliant red that matched her dress.

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” he growled.

Her face changed, looking very satisfied. “You think this little ol’ dress is for you, Agent Burke?”

He pressed an arm against the marble above her head and leaned closer. She was wearing a different perfume tonight, something straight-up sexy, that filled his senses.

“Yes, I think it is.”

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip. “Then you’re right.”

“You are so beautiful, Darcy.” His breath mingled with hers, the air between them scorching hot. “I don’t want anyone else to look at you.”

“Caveman.”

“That’s how I feel, knowing every man in this room will be looking at you and imagining peeling that dress off your sexy body.”

Her chest hitched. “Well, they can look, but they can’t touch.”

He lowered his voice, his blood pumping thickly through his veins. “Can I touch?”

Her eyelids flickered. “I’ll think about it.” She ran her nails up his shirt, fiddling with the buttons up to his bow tie. “You do look hot in a tuxedo. Thom picked it for you, didn’t he?”

Alastair groaned. “We have a job to do. I need to stay focused.” He made himself step back from the temptation of her.

Darcy took a few steps away with a whisper of silk. Then she paused and turned, shooting him a look over her bare shoulder. “Let’s catch us some bad guys, Alastair, and then later, if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll do the touching.”

* * *

Darcy dragged in a deep breath and tried to focus. It was hard with wet panties.

She watched Alastair stalk off to check in with his agents. She hadn’t been lying—the way the man looked in a tuxedo should be illegal. It fit his hard body like a glove. Her mouth watered and her ovaries sighed.

“You know, watching you look at him, and him look at you…I have to tell you, it makes me very hot and bothered.”

Darcy spun, happiness bursting inside her. “Sloan!”

She hugged her friend. The woman’s dark hair was styled in loose curls, and she was wearing a strapless dress in a deep purple.

“You look gorgeous, as always.”

Sloan raised a brow. “You look hot enough to burn.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to help back you up tonight. Without you, Silk Road would have killed Diego and me. So, we’re here to help.”

Darcy would have preferred her friend be far away and safe back in Miami. But Sloan was an experienced DEA agent and could more than handle herself.

Darcy looked around. “So, where is your hot guy?”

A smile curled Sloan’s lips. “He went to say hello to Declan.”

Darcy followed her friend’s gaze and once again, her ovaries quivered. Diego Torres was one fine male specimen. He had brown skin, tousled brown hair, and a sexy smile. The SEAL-turned-salvage captain wasn’t wearing a tux, but looked mighty fine in a blue suit, with a crisp white shirt and no tie. Mr. Cool.

“Sloan, if you weren’t my best friend, I’d steal your man,” Darcy said.

Sloan sipped her champagne. “Oh?” The brunette smirked. “Then I might just need to sample a certain hot, rugged FBI agent.”

Darcy made a noise. “Try and I’ll take you down.”

Sloan laughed.

Darcy scanned the room and instantly she found him. He was on the stairs, giving orders as usual, to a couple of his agents. So damn handsome. She’d bet he was bossy in bed too. Her belly quivered. And she was really desperate to find out.

“I need a cigarette again,” Sloan said.

Darcy slapped her friend’s arm just as Diego reached them.

“Hi, Diego.”

“Hola, Darcy.” He smiled at her and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “You look incredible.” He lifted his gaze and did a quick scan of the party.

Darcy grinned. You could take the SEAL out of the Navy, but you couldn’t take the SEAL out of the man.

“Everything good?” he asked.

“So far.” At that moment, a rush of nerves hit her. She’d been so focused on Alastair, and him seeing her dress, that she’d used it as an excuse not to let nerves set in.

She pulled in a breath. She’d channel it. Taking down Silk Road was the number-one priority, and they were making that happen. Tonight.

“Ladies and gentlemen.” The Director of the Dashwood Museum, Mr. Linus Monroe, was standing at the podium, his voice echoing across the lobby. “Welcome to the opening of a truly fascinating exhibit. A generous donor has opened his private collection, and is sharing these fascinating treasures with us.”

As the guests clapped, Darcy sensed Alastair move up behind her.

“And thanks also to cooperation with a fellow, world-class museum in France…you probably wouldn’t know its name.”

Polite laughter.

The director smiled and waved a hand. “Our special thanks go to the Louvre, for their generosity in loaning us some very unique, exquisite gemstones to complete the exhibit. Therefore, ladies and gentlemen, it is my great pleasure this evening to unveil the Cursed Diamonds Exhibit.”

A spotlight shone on the diamond case, still draped in the black cloth.

Without thinking, Darcy reached out and grabbed Alastair’s hand.

This was it. A sense of excitement moved across the crowd, and she heard a few titters. Alastair’s fingers clenched on hers.

The director gripped the black cloth and then whipped it off.

Almost as one, the crowd gasped.

In the clear display, the diamonds glinted.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you three priceless treasures: the Sancy, the Regent, and the Black Orlov.”

Applause and cheers erupted.

The lights went off, plunging the museum into pitch blackness.