by Tricia Jones
The phone rang as Lily came back with two filled cups. “Excuse me a minute.” She handed a cup to Saul and pushed over a cup protector before picking up the phone.
Saul looked away, but habit had him listening to the conversation. Seconds into the call and he knew exactly what it was about. When Lily put down the phone, nonchalantly he picked up his cup. “Problems?”
Lily eyed him for a moment, as if considering whether or not to tell him anything. Then she shrugged. “I need to get Mia a new ID card. You think it would be easy enough, but this place seems to run more like MI5 every day. It’s not as if it’s her fault anyway. She had her bag stolen last night and her ID was in it.”
Saul figured that since Lily had told him a little, he could return the favor. “Yeah. I was with her when it happened.”
Lily’s eyes widened. “You were? Did you see who did it?”
“Some guy in a raincoat. Did she say how her shoulder was this morning?”
“She hurt her shoulder?”
He wasn’t a bit surprised that Mia hadn’t shared that aspect of the mugging with her assistant. “Jarred it quite bad. Wouldn’t go to the hospital.”
Lily huffed. “Typical. That woman thinks she’s indestructible. Sorry, I shouldn’t say that about her, especially to you. Have you known her long?”
“Not especially.”
Lily opened her mouth, obviously keen to find out more, but the door to Mia’s office opened and a young man with a shock of red hair stepped out. He turned and said thank you, before closing the door and with a nod to Lily headed down the hallway.
“Just a sec, and I’ll tell Mia you’re here.”
Lily disappeared into Mia’s office and closed the door behind her. Muffled voices sounded through the closed door and Saul’s lips twitched with the knowledge that Mia was likely telling Lily to get rid of him. Well, she could try, but he wasn’t going anywhere. At least not until she’d agreed to see him again. He’d hoped to persuade her to have lunch, but dinner would do just fine. His mouth split into a grin. Breakfast would do even better. But no use getting ahead of himself. A woman like her needed a steady approach and he could be a patient man when the situation called for it.
When the door opened and Mia appeared, he put his cup on the desk and stood. Vaguely aware of Lily brushing past him, he kept his gaze on Mia. Her eyes—a deep green that reminded him of the visits he’d taken to the home of his ancestors—reached deep inside him and tugged at something unknown. His chest tightened. Hell. This woman had the power to screw him over good if he didn’t keep his wits about him.
“Come in,” she said in a tone all businesslike and brusque. She stepped back motioning him inside and, moving past her, he drew in the faint scent of citrus. He waited until she’d closed the door, then he offered a smile. She went quickly around her desk and sat behind it in a manner that reminded him of his last meeting with his bank manager.
He took a seat in front of her desk.
“How did you find me?” She clasped her hands on the top of the desk. Now he felt like he was twelve again, and ordered in front of the head teacher.
Deliberately, he sat back in the chair attempting to take a relaxed pose. “I’m a journalist. Finding people goes with the territory.”
He wanted to try another smile, but one look at her stern expression warned him not to go there. It seemed he had one seriously pissed woman on his hands, and experience told him that charm and nonchalance rarely worked when faced with an irritated female.
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Mia Freeman. Psychology lecturer. London’s hallowed halls aren’t that big.”
“What do you want?”
Her hands were still clasped, the knuckles white. Annoyed, yeah. But it was her eyes that pulled at him. Guarded. Circumspect.
“I wanted to check you were okay after last night.”
Her eyes didn’t flicker. “I assured you everything was okay when I left you. Why would things be different this morning?”
Hell. He didn’t normally have to work this hard with a woman. “Your shoulder was still acting up when you got in the cab.”
She rolled it out. “It’s fine.”
Suddenly feeling a little pissed himself, he popped one ankle over the opposite knee and all but lounged back in the chair. “The next time I’m attracted to a woman I hope to hell she’s not as difficult as you.”
Those emeralds flashed, but quickly softened. “I’m not difficult.” Slowly, she unclasped her hands and leaned back. “It’s just that you confuse me.”
He gave a nonchalant shrug. “I’m not that hard to figure out. You, on the other hand, are proving to be an interesting package, Professor.”
She opened her mouth, no doubt ready to refute his misuse of the academic title, but she closed it and smiled. Hell. The woman’s smile could knock a man off balance at sixty paces.
“Since you’re being straight with me, perhaps I owe you the same consideration.” She flicked a glance over him, then met his eyes again. “I’m not exactly used to men coming on to me in such an overt fashion. Equally, I’m not very good at flirting right back. If you’re looking for a brief, easy affair to fill your spare time while you’re in London, you’d be better off looking elsewhere. I’m not interested in filling that need.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I’ll admit to the coming on to you part, I’ll even agree that you’re not very good at flirting, but you’re wrong if you think I only see you as a potential bed mate to fill the empty nights.” He took a moment to inhale a calming breath. Usually, he needed to know a woman for a while longer before she had the potential to get under his skin and irritate him like this one could. “The truth is I’m attracted to you. I find you fascinating, challenging, and beautiful. Okay, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hope to get you between the sheets at some stage, but I’m not totally driven by my hormones. I like a woman I can hold a conversation with, a woman who has opinions and isn’t shy of offering them. So far, you haven’t disappointed on that front.”
She eyed him warily. “I’m likely to disappoint on many others.”
“I could say the same about me, but why don’t we give it a shot? See how it pans out.”
Very slightly, she started to swivel in the chair. “What did you have in mind?”
“We could start with lunch, if you’re free.”
She held his gaze a moment longer, then reached for her diary. “I only have time for a quick sandwich in the campus restaurant.”
“Fine by me. I’ve got an interview scheduled at three.”
She ran her tongue along her lower lip, moistening her generous mouth and causing his pants to tighten uncomfortably. He tried to console himself that she likely wasn’t even aware of the effect her actions had on him. He shifted, hoping to God he’d be able to extricate himself from the chair without embarrassing himself.
She reached into her desk to retrieve her bag, and Saul tried to think innocuous thoughts. Thankfully, it worked enough for him to follow her out the door and into Lily’s office without mishap.
Mia stood in front of her assistant’s desk. “I’m going for a quick lunch. Will you tell security I’ll be down just after two to arrange for my new ID?”
“Okay. Oh, this arrived for you a few minutes ago. I think it might be the disc you requested from Symborg, but since it’s marked for your attention only, I didn’t open it.”
“Great.” Mia ripped at the package and pulled out a small white padded envelope. “It’s too small to be the disc, maybe they sent the information on a memory stick.”
She pulled out a card and a tiny square box, and Saul knew from the look on Mia’s face that it was no memory stick. She stared at the card, holding the tissue-wrapped box in the palm of her other hand.
Since her face seemed to have paled, Saul stepped forward. “What is it?”
She swallowed. “Nothing.” She jammed the card and box back into the packet and shoved it into her bag. �
�Just something I ordered. Shall we go?”
Saul kept quiet while they walked along a busy corridor where students in small groups chatted and generally loitered as students do.
When they entered the restaurant, Mia indicated a table. “What sandwich would you like?”
Saul shook his head. “You sit. I’ll get them.”
When she gave no argument, all Saul’s instincts, already on alert since she’d opened the package, went into full investigative mode. He held out the chair for her and leaned down. “You okay?”
She gave an absent nod.
“How about ham and cheese?”
Another nod. “Whatever you can get will be fine.”
“Be right back.”
While he waited in line, he saw Mia pull out the package to retrieve the card. She read it, then slowly placed it back in the envelope. After a few moments, she unwrapped the tissue paper and stared at whatever was inside.
“Can I help you?”
Saul jerked around. A woman was smiling at him from behind the counter. He ordered two sandwiches and coffee.
He walked back with the tray, and Mia shoved the contents into the package. “Here we go.” He set down their lunch then swung around and popped the tray on an empty table.
“We get told off for doing that,” Mia said without humor. “It’s frowned upon.”
“Let’s break the rules for once.” Saul handed her a napkin. “Live a little dangerously.”
Mia opened her sandwich.
Saul ripped open his own and took the first bite. When she didn’t attempt to eat, he swallowed and nodded to her sandwich. “Not hungry?
“Not overly.”
“Maybe if you tell me what was in that package you might get your appetite back.”
Her eyes whipped to his. “What do you mean?”
“Whatever’s in there,” he nodded to her bag, “has made your eyes go dull.”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Two heads are better than one. Or so they say.”
She looked at him the same way she had the night before when he asked questions that bordered on the personal. Then she sighed. “I’ve been getting these notes. I thought they were from a student, but now I’m not so sure.”
“What kind of notes?”
“Nonsense, really. Meaningless.” She reached for the bag on the chair beside her and retrieved the packet. “But now there’s this.”
Saul took the envelope and examined the card.
What I have, I give to you.
He contemplated the scrawled script before turning the note over but there was nothing on the reverse side. “No idea what this means?”
“No.” She handed him the box. “This, on the other hand, does mean something.”
The ring was old, obviously worn. Silver with two sapphire stones entwined by what looked like a snake, or maybe a mythological serpent.
“It’s from the same line of jewelry I collect.” Her voice was almost a whisper. “Whoever’s sending the notes must know I have an interest in it.”
“Don’t many people have that information?”
“Only my father and aunt. I don’t wear the pieces very often and then it’s only to formal functions. I’m not in the habit of telling people my business.”
Saul could believe that. “How about the auction houses? Are you on their mailing lists for when these pieces come up for auction?”
She thought for a second. “Yes, I suppose so. I’m not really sure.”
Saul picked up the note again. “What did the other notes say?”
“The first two were just single words. Mine and Beloved. Then there was a quote by Mark Twain. I’ve never received actual items before.”
“Do you have the other notes on you?”
“No. They’re in my desk drawer.”
“Why don’t you let me take a look? I’ll do a little digging. See if I can make anything pop.”
Her eyes went wide. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
He smiled. “Since I’m offering, you might as well use me.”
“Surely you’ve got more important things to do? Aren’t you here to cover a political story?”
“It’s a slow mover. I can drag myself away to do a little something on the side.”
She had that wary look in her eyes. “No strings?”
“I don’t work that way.”
She seemed to accept that. “Where will you start?”
“I’ll start where I always start.” He kept his eyes firmly on hers. “With the main source.”
“Which would be me?”
“Hey, don’t look so worried. I don’t intend keeping you in a locked room and interrogating you for days on end.”
She held his gaze. “I might be grateful for your offer of help, but I’m not that grateful.”
“There you go again, always thinking the worst of me.”
She smiled. “I’m a realist.”
“Me, too. But there’s room for some wishing and hoping.”
Now she laughed. He had to admit it eased something in him. He didn’t much care for the worry he’d seen in her eyes since receiving the package.
She reached out for her coffee and held the cup between her hands. “So, tell me about the story you’re here to cover.”
A skilled change of subject. He’d give her this one, seeing some of the worry seemed to have dissipated and she’d picked up her sandwich. “One of your politicians is rumored to be a naughty boy. I’ve got the job of checking out his misdemeanors.”
She swallowed the tiny piece of sandwich she’d bitten. “You don’t sound too happy about it.”
He picked up his coffee. “I’m not especially.”
“You prefer to be back home? Where is home, by the way? Which part of America?”
“New York City.”
“Were you born there?”
“Uh-huh. Not that I’ve spent a whole lot of time there for several years now. I’m more usually on assignment.”
“Where?”
“Middle East mostly.”
Her shoulders went back. “Are you a war correspondent?”
“I’ve been in the thick of it a few times.” Now he felt as evasive and guarded as her, but he didn’t want to admit, even to himself, that there was a chance he might not get to resume his old career. Bad enough his editor had packed him off as a favor to a British colleague for the next few weeks. “Right now I’m tasked with the boring stuff.”
“Like coming to the UK and reporting on our politicians.”
“Like that.” He let his gaze roam insolently over her face. “Although I couldn’t classify everything about this visit as boring.”
Her disapproving expression belied the flash of awareness in her eyes. “You don’t give up, I’ll give you that. It must be the reporter in you.”
“Right now, it’s the man in me.”
She sipped coffee, obviously intent on ignoring his innuendo. “So why did you upset your sister? The peace offering.”
It took him a moment to click into the segue. “I stuck my nose in where it wasn’t wanted.”
She grinned. “That’s hard to imagine.”
“I know.” He grinned back. “But there it is. She was married to a scumbag who used his hands too freely. I told him to pick on someone whose hands were the same size. He did, and I hit back.”
“You fought with him?”
He took a swig of his coffee. “I wasn’t letting him lay into my sister. She didn’t tell me what was going on, thought she could handle it herself. Until he split her lip and knocked out one of her teeth.”
“Oh, my God.”
“Then she couldn’t hide it any longer. When I managed to pry it out of her I went over to confront the jerk. Told him to get out and never come back. He did. My sister wasn’t exactly happy.”
“I’d have thought she’d be glad to be shot of him.”
“She didn’t appreciate my making the decision for her.”
“Hence the peace offering. Is she okay now?”
“Yeah. Doing really well. She’s got her own place and a job.”
“That’s good.” Mia looked reflective for a moment. “Families can be hard to negotiate, can’t they?”
She’d told him the previous evening that she lived with her father and aunt, and from what he’d gathered, they got along just fine. But there was a look of discomfort in her eyes, so maybe even she had family issues. “Got some problems of your own?”
“Just an overprotective father at the moment.”
“Does he know about the notes?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t think it was necessary, not for something as trivial as a few notes. I can only imagine what he’d do if he knew about this.” She nudged the box. “Do you really think you can find out who sent it?”
“Won’t know till I try.” He ran his finger over her hand. “How about we get started?”
Chapter Five
In retrospect, Mia wasn’t sure involving Saul in her problems was such a good idea. What happened to not getting involved with him? With some reluctance she’d given him the notes yesterday, and she couldn’t deny the feeling of relief that came with handing them over. But she knew little about him, apart from the fact he’d pissed off a sister and seemed pissed himself to be covering a story that didn’t place him dead in the center of trouble. She hadn’t known many men like him. Correction—she hadn’t known any men like him.
Which was why, as she waited for him on a bench in the middle of Hyde Park, Mia really did question the wisdom of leaving herself vulnerable to a virtual stranger by letting him know what was in the notes.
Amidst the flurry of people who used Hyde Park as a thoroughfare on their way home from work, Mia wondered for the millionth time what it was about him. Part of the attraction might be down to his pushy nature, and while she didn’t welcome his persistence on a personal level, she couldn’t deny the attribute would come in handy in discovering the origin of the notes.
Except it wasn’t only about the notes. She liked him. It was refreshing on some level to have a man so obviously interested in her, one who wasn’t afraid to let his attraction show. A man who didn’t even try to hide it, but just came straight out with it. Maybe he enjoyed her reserve, liked pushing her buttons, some men liked the thrill of the pursuit. What would he do if she reciprocated? Take her up on it? Lose interest?
