by Tricia Jones
Beside him, Mia put down the camera. “Is that enough, do you think?”
For a moment he wasn’t sure what she meant. “Yeah, that’s enough. I can run the plate with what we’ve got.”
“Isn’t that illegal? Running other people’s plates?”
“The car’s likely government-issue and won’t be on the radar. Besides, we’re living dangerously, remember?”
He glanced in the rearview. Their tail stayed about three cars behind. The driver was no amateur, weaving and diverting several times as they crawled through the busy traffic.
“I’m not sure I’m cut out for living dangerously. I mean, look at me, I’ve only got to receive a couple of obscure notes and I’m freaked.”
Saul took another look in the mirror at their tail. “Some jerk sending you mysterious notes and an anonymous gift always needs to be taken seriously. I’ll step things up on that jewelry search, see if we can get something to pop.” He inched his way through traffic.
“Do you think I need to be worried?”
“No. Just careful.”
“God. Now I really am worried.”
He wasn’t sure whether to tell her about the tail they’d picked up, or let her alone until he found out something more concrete. No point worrying her unnecessarily, but then she had been mugged. An icy chill swept through him. Maybe he should tell her, keep her on guard. If she thought there was something to be concerned about, she’d be more alert, more aware.
What he really wanted to do was take her back to his apartment, keep her in his sights at all times. Okay, yeah. He wanted her in his bed, too. But right now he wanted her safe until he could figure this out. If he went to the cops they’d likely do nothing. What did he have after all? She’d been mugged, but there was nothing they could do about that. It happened on city streets too often to make news. She’d received the notes. Likely the cops would put that down to student pranks, as Mia had done herself. The ring? That could be from an admirer. The tail? London was a busy place full of people who looked suspicious.
He was best keeping the cops out until he had something more concrete to give them.
The car came to a stop at traffic lights, and Mia sighed. “Maybe Colcannon’s just going home.”
“If so he’s going the wrong way. He lives in North London. We’ll just stay with him a while longer. We might get lucky.”
“I still feel a bit off doing this, but it is kind of exciting.” She turned to him. “It gives you a little zing, doesn’t it?”
One look in her excited eyes and he couldn’t resist. She was just too damn adorable for words. “Yeah. I haven’t felt this sort of zing since the time I slipped my tongue inside Mona Wilkes.”
She shot back, her chin tucking into her chest like a prim schoolmistress. “That’s really crude.”
It was, and he wasn’t entirely sure what had come over him, except that she looked damn edible right then. He wanted to screw the tail on Colcannon and indulge in another kind entirely. Except if he told her that she’d likely accuse him of being crude again and he’d be going home alone.
There had to be something wrong with him when the disapproving tilt of that prissy chin did more for his hormone levels than warm memories of Mona Wilkes ever did.
“Maybe I should apologize.” The lights changed and he eased out into traffic again. “But somehow you bring out the worst in me.”
“I’m a big girl. I can handle it. Men like to brag about their conquests, don’t they? It makes you feel all big and macho.”
He shot her a grin. “Please. I was sixteen at the time of Mona Wilkes.”
“So we’ll put it down to schoolboy bragging. He’s signaling left.”
Saul had to pull hard on his focus and turned the wheel to follow down a busy street, parking a few car lengths from the subject. Colcannon got out of the car and dismissed his driver, before disappearing into the Longmead Gentleman’s Club.
“Likely nothing else biting tonight,” Saul said, checking his rear view mirror for sight of the other car. “That’s a regular haunt of his when he’s in town.”
“So what do we do now?”
Saul had a few ideas, but he doubted she’d approve. “How about that dinner? I said we could do better than coffee and burgers.”
“Sounds good. This stakeout stuff is hungry work.”
Tell him about it. Looking at her bathed in the soft street lights, her eyes still alight with the thrill of the tail they’d undertaken, her short cap of hair ruffled by the breeze that came in through the crack of window she’d opened. Shit. He was freaking ravenous.
But he’d promised to feed her, so thought of any other activities seemed less than sporting right then, especially since he needed to redeem himself after that crass comment about Mona Wilkes.
He found a parking lot opposite an Italian restaurant that looked reasonably okay. Since he hadn’t seen the SUV since he’d left the Longmead Club, he wondered if his frenzied brain was seeing spooks where none existed. Maybe the man had been a reporter and had given up like they had after seeing Colcannon go into the club.
He parked and they walked the short distance to the restaurant. He opened the door for Mia to walk through, the sounds and scents hit him full blast. His stomach rumbled in anticipation. The cheery waitress stepped forward and seconds later they were being led through the restaurant to a table toward the back.
Mia loved Italian food and her taste buds were in full flow as Saul held out the chair for her. She accepted the menu from the waitress and ordered a soft drink. She would have killed for a large glass of Sauvignon but something told her she needed to keep a clear head. All the while in that car with Saul she’d been too aware of him. The way he maintained a tight focus on the task at hand, the skilled way he handled the camera and the car. So skilled in fact that she kept wondering how he’d handle a woman. The only answer that came to her was that he’d handle a woman absolutely fine. She wanted it to be her. She wanted his hands on her.
He’d momentarily shocked her with that remark about Mona Wilkes, and she thought how he must think her a dreadful prude. In fact, his remark had turned her already-sensitive hormones onto full alert and she’d almost leapt into his lap.
Heck. Since meeting him she’d been feeling like a woman she’d didn’t know. She liked sex well enough, but she had never felt so desperate for it that she was willing to jump a guy. Now, with Saul, it seemed she could barely think about anything else.
So much for telling him she didn’t intend being his entertainment during his stay in London. That, it seemed, was just a big fat lie.
Mia managed to get her thoughts focused long enough to order salmon linguini with a side of watercress. But after the waitress left with their order, Saul sat back and watched her steadily with those deliciously decadent eyes of his. “What?” She reached for her glass.
“I thought you looked pretty amazing in the car a while back, with the streetlights highlighting your hair and eyes. But here, with all the candles, you pretty much take my breath away.”
Her own breath caught and her hand shook so much she had to put down the glass. He wasn’t teasing, there was only the hint of a smile on his lips, and the way he looked at her was so full of awareness her throat tightened. “That’s a nice line.”
“No line. I’ve never considered myself much of a romantic, which means that any line I have is usually of the more sexually provocative kind.”
She managed to get the glass to her lips this time. “I can vouch for that. Seeing as I’ve been on the receiving end a few times.”
Now he did grin, a particularly devilish smile that sent heat pulsing through her. He really was one sexy and captivating man.
“So why psychology?”
The unexpected change of subject took her by surprise. She’d expected him to keep up the flirtation, push her a little more so that he could keep the upper hand. But once more he’d surprised her. “It was something I always found interesting. Why people do the t
hings they do. What pushes them. What drives the choices they make.”
“Do you always get answers?”
“Mostly.” Mia sipped her drink and held his gaze. “If I dig deep enough.”
“Which means in some ways our professions aren’t that different. We both dig for answers.”
“The difference is in the way we go about getting results.”
He saluted her with his beer. “I’m suitably chastised.”
“I didn’t mean to point the finger, and I suppose when you think about it, you’re right. We both use research, collect data, weigh up our findings. It’s what we do with it that makes our professions different. I use it to understand people while you use it to knock them down. And God, that sounds so up myself. I really didn’t mean to denigrate you or your job.”
“This wasn’t exactly the type of assignment I signed up for,” he said.
“What did you sign up for?”
“I’m a photojournalist, not a hack. At least that’s not how I see myself, or at least it wasn’t.”
“So what happened?”
He hesitated, just for a moment. “Got shot.”
“What?” Cold trickled down Mia’s spine. “You got shot?”
“Afghanistan. Didn’t run fast enough. Bullet hit me in the hip and shattered bone.”
“Oh my God. Are you okay now?”
“Still in rehab, but I’m getting there. Need weekly physical therapy, but it’s not that bad.”
“Will you be completely healed? Back to full strength, I mean?”
“Doc says I’ll probably have to keep the joint moving, keep building the muscle. But I should be pretty much back to normal.”
“Then what? You intend going back to the Middle East?”
“That’s the plan. It’s what I do. Who I am.” Saul’s phone vibrated where it sat on the table. “Sorry. Just need to check this.”
Mia nodded, still rehashing what he’d said. Why anyone would want to return to the place they’d been shot, she didn’t know. Maybe it was something about falling off a horse, or more likely, knowing Saul as she was starting to, he’d want to prove something to himself and to his colleagues.
She watched as he murmured into the phone. It was obviously bad news, or at least unexpected or unwanted news, because his jaw went rigid, the flesh over his cheekbones tightening. He ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket.
“Is everything okay?”
Straightening in his chair, he said, “Yeah. No problem.”
He obviously wasn’t telling the truth, but before she could question him further, their meals arrived. While they ate, Mia sensed that whatever had unsettled him was still rattling in his brain. She thought about bringing the conversation back to his injury, to find out more about his job and its danger. But truth was she didn’t really want to know. Already she knew she would worry about him, which was absurd seeing as they barely knew each other and this was just a passing flirtation they had going.
“Are you involved in any kind of research at the moment?”
Mia looked up from spearing pasta to find Saul watching her intently. “I’m working on a paper on the development of phobias in infants. Is there a genetic connection by way of family disposition or are they a learned response?”
He set down his fork. “Anyone want you not to do it for any reason?”
She shook her head. “Why would they?”
“Just asking. Does your research focus on any one child in particular?”
“No.” She put down her own fork. “What’s this about? It’s not general interest, so don’t try and fob me off. Have you found out something about the notes?” She nodded to his pocket. “Is that what the call was about?”
He pushed the plate away, then leaned his elbows on the table. His eyes narrowed. “Tell me what you know about Colcannon. And don’t even think about giving me any bullshit.”
The way he looked at her, as if she’d suddenly turned into his enemy made her chest squeeze even as her temper hiked. Saul eyed her in the way that she imagined a detective would when questioning a suspect they believed wasn’t telling the truth. “I don’t know anything about Colcannon, at least nothing more than the rest of the population knows via the media. Why would you think that I do?”
“Because a man doesn’t send an expensive ring to a woman he doesn’t know, Professor. So why don’t you tell me just what sort of relationship you have going with our eminent politician?”
Chapter Seven
Saul couldn’t quite bring himself to believe Mia had been playing him. That she was somehow mixed up with Colcannon and had chosen to keep it from him. His mind tracked through the possibility she had made up the story about the notes and jewelry in order to get to know him, except that didn’t compute. He’d been the one chasing her, and she’d been the one pushing him back at every opportunity.
Shit. He couldn’t damn well think straight.
At first he’d wondered if something about her current research might have upset a few people. That it had connected to the politician in some way, enough to have his people send her those notes and maybe the ring was a warning of some sort. But why anonymously?
None of it made any sense.
“What are you saying?” Mia’s face paled. “That the ring belongs to Colcannon? Why would he send it to me?”
“Yeah. That’s the six million dollar question.”
Taking his inference, her shoulders stiffened, her back going ramrod straight. “You think I’m involved with him?” Color flooded her cheeks now, her eyes flashing with fire. “That is actually laughable.”
“Like I said, a man doesn’t send a woman an expensive piece of jewelry unless there’s something in it for him.”
“Well, you’re way off base, you jerk.” She gathered her napkin and threw it on the table. “What? You think I was the woman he was meeting in that hotel?” She reached for her bag. “That we put together some ridiculous charade to get you off the scent?”
Saul sat back, hating to bait her like this, but there was no other way if he was to get to the truth. “It’s been known.”
Opening her bag, she pulled out her purse. “It seems we didn’t cover our tracks too well, did we? We forgot to obliterate all traces of ownership of that ring. Hmm. We need to do better next time.” She yanked out a couple of bank notes and threw them next to her crumpled napkin. “Anyway, can’t stop. I need to meet with my illustrious lover. To tell him our cover is blown.”
Saul caught up with her in the foyer as she struggled into her coat. “Get away from me,” she snapped as he helped with the sleeve. “Get your hands off me.”
“Easy now, Professor. You don’t want to make a scene.”
Which was apparently the very worst thing he could have said, because she reeled on him. “Oh, I’ll make a scene all right. I’ll tell everyone who’ll listen that this jerk reporter likes to put two and two together and come up with five. That he—and why am I surprised—likes to jump to conclusions without any scrap of evidence to support those conclusions. But then, what’s new?”
Saul tamped down the temper vying with frustration. “So why don’t you explain to me why he’d send you that ring?”
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be here with you, would I?”
He was starting to feel like the jerk Mia had accused him of being, but since his colleague had called to tell him that the last known owner of the ring Mia had received was none other than Victor Colcannon, he hadn’t been able to think straight.
“Maybe I was out of line.”
“Maybe?”
He could swear there was steam coming out of her ears. “Okay.” He held up his hands, palms out. “Let me settle the bill and we’ll run this through a few times. See if we can figure it out.”
She buttoned her coat, her eyes throwing daggers at him. “Go to hell.”
“You want to figure this out more than you want to send me there. At least right now.”
“
What’s the point? You’ve already found me guilty. If you don’t believe me and you think I have some connection with Colcannon, it’s all moot anyway.”
“I don’t believe that.” He took a chance and reached for the hand she was currently pushing into a glove. Her fingers were tense, but she didn’t pull away. “Let’s go somewhere. Talk.”
She looked down at their joined hands, then back at him, her eyes full of suspicion.
“Let’s get coffee...somewhere.” He’d been about to say his place, but then she really would have sent him to hell. He tightened his fingers around hers. “I apologize for being a jerk.”
She looked around the foyer, her eyes so full of hurt he wanted to draw her close and feel her soft warmth in his arms. He hated being the cause of it and knew right then he’d get down on his knees and beg her forgiveness if necessary.
The thought unsettled him as much as his accusation had unsettled her, but he squeezed her fingers tighter. “What do you say?”
She hesitated for a few long moments, her green gaze fixed on him. Then she sighed. “Okay.”
****
They found a hotel bar a short distance away, disposed of their outer coats on the rack in the lobby and found a small table toward the rear of the bar. Saul ordered coffee and brandy, then sat back. Since she was still frosty with him, he thought it best to get straight down to business. “Tell me more about your current research.”
She pushed up the sleeves of her dress. “Why? Do you think my research is the connection?”
“Can’t rule it out.”
She pursed her lips, as if trying to find a connection herself. “It’s pretty straightforward research.” She looked back at him. “Not contentious in any way. I’m at the data-gathering stage right now and haven’t really gotten into anything especially deep and meaningful yet. I’ll be carrying out interviews of course, but the caregivers of my intended case studies have given permission.”
