by Rae Rivers
“I don’t. He contacts me.”
“Where did you meet?”
“Through another buyer who vouched for Bond.”
“Have you met him personally?”
“Only phone calls.”
Alex frowned. “So how do you know he’s good for it?”
Steven shrugged his shoulders. “I just know. Word is out that he’s not a soft mark and I don’t want to get on his bad side.”
“Bit late for that,” Cole snarled.
“Yeah, well, your mad bitch didn’t leave me much choice. It was either ratting out Bond, death, or prison. Great options.”
“You should see her when she’s really mad,” Cole said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“When’s the next meet?” Alex interrupted, losing all threads of her remaining patience.
“There’s no scheduled meeting in place. He only calls, places the order, and I go in. Once he’s got the goods, the money is wired to an offshore account.”
“So what’s your next job?”
Steven hesitated and looked at Cole this time. “I still need the Renoir.”
Cole frowned, his eyes dark with anger as he issued a challenge. “I dare you to try.”
Steven struggled to his feet with a string of muttered curses. “I told you what I know so could you two get the fuck out of here?”
“What do you know about the missing paintings from the Taylor Museum?” Alex asked, watching his expression.
Steven’s eyes locked with hers. “I heard you’ve been fishing around the museum.”
“Would Bond’s shopping list consist of the ten stolen artworks still astray?”
He swiped at his nose again and checked for bleeding. “I’ve heard some talk about the museum’s paintings, but how the hell should I know? People been looking for them for years. I was only called in for the two others, and I didn’t ask questions.” He looked at Cole, his eyes flickering with renewed courage. “I’m going to come for the Renoir, you know. Your watchdog won’t always be so alert.”
Cole had been forcing his anger in check since their arrival, keeping a tight grip on the lid that restrained it, but Steven’s words broke that restraint and the lid popped. With one smooth motion, he charged Steven, and they both crashed against the back wall of the small apartment. Cole’s athletic build and tall frame was no easy match for the smaller man. He pinned Steven against the wall, one arm shoved against his chest, the other against his throat.
Steven stilled and gaped at Cole. He was a tall man but skinny and more comfortable in gunfights than fistfights.
Cole tightened his grip on his throat. “You stay the hell away from my Renoir, from my house, from my woman, and from me. Is that clear, asshole?”
Steven tried to answer but choked and gave a small nod instead.
“And before I let your sorry ass go, I want to know how you knew your way around my house the night you came for the Renoir.”
“Bond,” Steven spluttered and Cole released his grip so the thief could get some air. “The night of the auction, I followed you home and heard you telling your driver to put the painting in the library.” He paused, his shoulders heaving as he tried to catch his breath. “Bond gave me a blueprint of the house, as well as a detailed verbal description of the layout inside. Finding the library was ace.”
“How the hell would he know that?”
“I don’t know. He seemed pretty clued up with your house as well as with you.”
“And the fire at my house?”
“The fire was all Bond.”
“Why did he set the fire?”
“To mess with you.”
“Why?”
“You have something of his, but I don’t know what,” Steven said through gritted teeth. “I’ve told you what I know. Let me go, dammit.”
Cole released his death grip on the man and shoved him onto the couch. “If I see you anywhere near us I will shoot you myself.”
“This is only business, Anderson. Don’t take it so personally.”
“You come anywhere near us again and you’ll see what personal is,” Cole warned in a tone so steady, so cold, that Steven blinked several times. “And just because you and Alex have some absurd code between yourselves does not mean that I have to respect that. Remember that next time you think about conducting business anywhere in my direction.”
****
“Who do you think ‘James Bond’ could be?” Alex asked as they walked down the stairs of the apartment building.
“No idea. Could you ask your fence?”
“He’s not my fence, but yes, it may be the best place to start. Eddie might have heard of him.”
Cole frowned. “Whoever Bond is, he seems to know the layout of my house and my security system. How would he know that?”
“He’s seen the blueprint.”
“How would he even get that?” The thought of strange men having uninvited access into his home sent a fresh wave of anger through him.
“Obtaining information like that in their world is equivalent to you phoning Julia and asking her to bring you the morning paper. Thieves don’t work the same way we do, Cole. They have contacts and means that would shock any normal citizen.”
He took her by the arm, stopping her at the bottom of the stairs. “So how do you do your job knowing they have this power?”
Her expression changed, softened, and she lowered her eyes. “It’s because they have this power that I do my job.”
Cole stroked her chin with his thumb and gave her a small smile. “You’re the bravest woman I’ve ever met, you know that?”
“You don’t have to sweet-talk me, you know. You’ve already got me into bed.”
He laughed and stepped back as the front door burst open to reveal a young couple sporting a baby, several bags of groceries, and an intense argument. Cole and Alex stepped aside, watching the couple disappear into the building.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said, reaching for the door. “Think there’ll be a cab in this area?”
“No need. We have our own entourage of muscles waiting across the street to give us a ride home.”
Cole raised an eyebrow, grinning. “You knew all along they were there?”
She rolled her eyes and walked outside, immediately pinning her gaze on the SUV parked further up the road. When she looked back at Cole, a small hint of a smile played on her lips. “I’m brave. Not stupid.”
She had Eddie Jones on speakerphone before they reached the car.
“Alex, you still alive?” Eddie’s voice boomed through the phone.
“I’m calling you, aren’t I?” Alex replied with a dry undertone. “Can you talk?”
“For a minute.”
Alex frowned at the hesitation in his voice. “Where are you?”
“Waiting for a shipment due any moment and I’m so damn excited I could split my pants. I have a buyer that’s paid mega dough—”
“Eddie,” Alex interrupted, gaping at the phone, “you remember which side of the law I’m on, right? You really shouldn’t be telling me this.”
“Come on, Alexis. With your savvy and the skills you’ve learned from your mother, you’d make a damn fine cat.”
“Thievery is not my forte, but thanks anyway.” Alex ignored the look Cole shot her and climbed into the car, barely glancing at her partners. “I need to ask you something. Do you know who the buyer is for the two hundred million dollar order of artwork that’s been issued?”
Silence.
“Eddie?”
“Shit. I already told you I don’t know. What’s this about?”
“I reckon the voices on that disk belong to the buyer of those paintings. Have you heard of someone that goes by the name of James Bond?”
“Yeah, I have.”
Alex straightened, glancing at Cole. “You have?”
“Yes, Sean Connery, Pierce Brosnan, Daniel Craig.”
Her shoulders sagged and she frowned. “Very funny, Eddi
e. Seriously though, you know a buyer that calls himself James Bond?”
“I’m not one for ratting out my buyers, Alex. If I turn on the buyers, then I’m out of work.”
Alex rolled her eyes. “Firstly, if you don’t know who Bond is then technically he’s not your buyer and secondly, perhaps it’s time you quit while you’re ahead. Your cuteness wouldn’t fare well in prison.”
“Yeah, yeah. A couple of months back, your mother started dating again, and she seemed quite sweet on him. She was very tight-lipped about her personal life, but she once mentioned his name to me.”
The mention of Alex’s mother brought an instant shift to her mood. She frowned and drew in a quiet breath before responding. “Which was?”
“James.”
“Shit. You sure about that, Eddie?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think it’s possible he’s the same man as the man calling himself James Bond?”
“Could be. I’m not sure,” he replied. “Just thought you should know. Oh, and FYI, I figured out who sent that disk to me. Your mother.”
Alex’s jaw dropped. “How do you know that?”
“Long story but I reckon she sent it to me ʼcause she knew I would warn you.”
Cole saw the relief wash over her, and he fought the urge to reach out and draw her into his arms. She wouldn’t want a show of affection in front of her partners.
“Okay, thanks for letting me know.” Alex ended the call and glanced at Cole with a disgruntled expression. “Did you hear all that?”
He nodded. “Your mother’s more involved in all this than we initially thought. Maybe the connection to James is a coincidence though.”
“No.” Alex looked out of the window with a pensive frown. “There’s a connection in everything that’s happened and I’ll find it.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Wednesday morning—3:07 am
The shrill sound of the ringing phone woke Alex with a start. She snatched it off the nightstand and frowned when she saw the time: 3:07 a.m.
“Hello?” she said, casting a quick glance at Cole. He hadn’t moved, but his eyes were open and he was watching her in silence.
“Alex?”
Alex gasped and bolted upright, the sheet falling away from her breasts. “Mom?”
“You have to get out of the house!” her mother screeched.
“What do you mean?” Alex frowned. “Where are you? Why haven’t—”
“Alex!” her mother screamed, cutting her off. “Get yourself and the men out. Now. There’s a bomb!” The phone went dead.
“Oh, God.” Alex scurried off the bed. Cole was already up and handing her a robe as he shrugged into his. “She says there’s a bomb.”
“Let’s go.” He grabbed her hand and headed for the door.
The word “bomb” seemed to shake everyone from a slumber instantaneously, and within seconds they were all charging down the stairs to the front door. Warren and Charles were at the hotel so that only left the night guard.
The five adults charged outside, crossed the road, and came to an abrupt halt on the pavement.
“How the hell do you know there’s a bomb?” Dan grumbled, pulling a T-shirt over his head.
“My mother called,” Alex replied, her eyes on the townhouse in front of them.
Everything seemed to be fine, no explosion yet. Could her mother have been wrong?
“Your mother? She’s been AWOL for weeks and calls us at three in the morning to tell us to haul ass?”
Alex heard the anger in her partner’s tone but chose to ignore it. Her mother wouldn’t have called unless she’d had a good reason to. Hearing her voice had shaken Alex to the core.
“Did she say anything else?”
“No, just that we had to get out. Now. And she sounded terrified.”
“We have to take Jennifer’s threat seriously, so I’m going to call the cops,” Bradley said, reaching for the phone in Alex’s hand.
Alex gave it to him, thankful when he didn’t comment on her shaking fingers. “Please don’t tell the cops it was my mother that called.” All three men looked at her, but she raised her chin in quiet determination. “If the bomb squad does find a bomb in Cole’s townhouse then that makes my mother involved in all this mess. I need to find out how she knew about it and how deeply her involvement goes before the cops get wind of it.”
Bradley nodded and dialed.
The bomb squad, several police cars, and an ambulance arrived within minutes. The street ruptured into a hive of activity and Dan and Bradley grew uneasy.
“We should get you both out of here,” Dan said. “Between the bomb and the growing crowd, it’s not safe.”
Cole nodded and Dan swiftly organized them a lift to the Coleson Hotel.
At 3:55 a.m. the call came. The dogs had sniffed out an explosive device in Cole’s townhouse on the first floor—a time bomb with a cheap wristwatch as the timer set to detonate at 4:00 a.m.
****
Alex waited until Sullivan left before going in search of Cole. She had opted to stay away, leaving Cole and her partners to tell the detective about what they knew.
The bomb they’d found had been small and homemade and although not deadly, it would have been effective in causing slight damage to the first floor of the townhouse. The whole mess screamed of an inside job, but Alex suspected their intruder had simply slipped in unnoticed between the builders and the painters.
She found Cole in the living room of the penthouse suite, staring out of the window at the commotion on the street below. He wore a white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and jeans. Despite his dark eyes and brooding expression, he still took her breath away.
“The media?” Alex moved closer, joining him at the window to peer down at the street. The press had caught wind of the bomb in Cole’s townhouse and that, combined with his previous burglary, made for hot news coverage. Several reporters lurked outside the entrance of his hotel, waiting for further news.
When Cole spoke, his voice was low and edgy, almost as though he chose each word with care. “These guys have messed with you, my artwork, my house, and my life. They’ve sent a message to the world that I can be played, and I’ve told you before how that ticks me off.”
“They’ve sent a message to my world that I can be played, Cole. This changes everything I’ve ever known.”
“Well, maybe it’s time you changed the way you worked, Alex. You can’t sit on the fence forever.”
Alex sighed, not in the mood for another argument. “Just remember that all the information we have was discovered because of the way I work. You’ve filled Sullivan in on what we know—or most of it anyway—and he’s still munching donuts, none the wiser as to who’s behind this.” Alex turned away but he grabbed her wrist.
“No, don’t go.”
Something in his voice stopped her and she tilted her head to look at him, trying to gauge his mood.
“I’m sorry.” He pulled her into his arms. “It’s been a hell of a day.” He kissed her head and drew back to look at her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m mad as hell and a lot of that is aimed at my mother right now. I need to find her.” Alex exhaled slowly. “If she knew there was a bomb in your house, then she’d know who’s responsible for putting it there.”
“She saved our lives, Alex.”
“I know. I realize she’s been a close step behind us with everything that’s happened, but I don’t understand why she’s not making contact with me.” Alex turned and looked down at the reporters below. It had grown dark and yet they still waited.
Before Cole could reply, there was a soft knock on the door, and her partners stepped inside. They’d opted for their black work gear and both wore matching jackets marked with their company logo. With dark hair, grim expressions, and muscular shoulders, they looked menacing and intimidating.
“Are you ready?” Dan asked from the doorway.
They’d received the all clear from th
e bomb squad and were headed back to the townhouse to get some clothes and other effects. They’d decided to move to the hotel for a few days until things settled down.
If they ever did.
With a brief nod, Alex went to retrieve a jacket from the closet in the bedroom. When she returned to the living room, her partners were already in the hallway and Cole stood waiting in the doorway. She gave him a warm smile when he reached for her jacket and helped her into it. Instead of releasing her, his arms came up around her and he buried his face into her neck, kissing her softly. They fell silent, still, and she leaned her head back against his chest.
It was such a sweet moment, and Alex closed her eyes and savored the brief flash in time where everything felt right. Beneath Cole’s rough, stern businessman exterior, existed several layers of the most exquisite charm and tenderness that had slowly started chipping away at her armor.
“Warren has the car ready,” Dan said, approaching them from behind.
Alex shook herself out of her reverie, opened her eyes, and frowned. Damn, the billionaire was making her soft.
Cole kissed her cheek and pulled back.
“Alex, you stay with Cole. We’ll be right behind you,” Dan instructed once they were inside the elevator. “The media’s in a frenzy outside.”
He wasn’t wrong.
The media descended on them like a pack of hungry wolves. Cameras clicked and lights flashed, accompanied by several eager reporters and photographers grasping for a story of their own before the night ended.
Sensing the excitement and the danger that accompanied it, the two agents surrounded the couple and ushered them down the stairs toward the awaiting limo.
“Cole! How about a photograph of you and Alex?” a reporter shouted. He pushed forward, breaking through the barrier of security men, and rushed toward them.
The perimeter breached, the excited crowd pressed forward and all chaos broke out. The photographers swamped around the couple, enclosing them within the chaos they themselves had created.
Dan and Bradley elbowed their way around the couple, ushering them into the limo.
“Go. We’ll catch up with you,” Bradley shouted, slamming the car door shut and turning to ward off the crowd. The limo lurched forward and out of the hands of the starved media.
