“No, it doesn’t seem so, does it?” She rubbed her arms through the sleeves of her turtleneck, as if experiencing a sudden chill, though the room was comfortably warm. “So what are we going to do when we find the necklace? Give it back to Carranza?”
“Hell, no.” She might be smart with investigative theories, but she was more than a little naive when it came to street intelligence. The vulnerability brought out his protective instincts, made him choose his explanation carefully. “We need the necklace as a lure. Carranza wants the Ivanov necklace, and we want him. This time, we’re going to nail him.”
She frowned. “How?”
He removed another picture from the wall, found nothing out of the ordinary, and replaced it. “Remember that portrait you had taken for Anthony on your first anniversary? You know, the one where you’re wrapped in that white fur?”
His question surprised her, and her answer came hesitantly. “Yes, I remember.”
And there was no way he could ever forget it. When Anthony had shown him a wallet-sized replica of that 16 x 20 portrait, Josh had been stunned by the transformation in Paige. Gone was the beautiful, conservative woman, and in her place was a seductive vixen. It had been one of those sexy, sensual portraits, soft and unfocused, like something straight out of a man’s fondest fantasy. She’d been posed on her side, with a white fur wrap draped strategically along her sleek curves. One hand held the fur to her breasts, displaying a hint of cleavage and leaving her shoulders bare. One long leg slipped out of the folds so it appeared she wore nothing at all beneath the fur covering. Her thick, dark hair was tousled enticingly around her face, and she was looking into the camera with a provocative smile that promised endless pleasures.
Yeah, the portrait was perfect for what he had in mind. “Where is it?”
“I packed it away.”
“You need to unpack it.”
Judging by the wariness turning her eyes a deep shade of green, she wasn’t too thrilled with the direction of their conversation. “Why?”
“The department has commissioned an artist to paint your portrait and add the Ivanov necklace. That picture would be perfect to use.”
“I’d hardly think so,” she argued. “Josh, the only thing I’m wearing in that picture is a white fur wrap!”
“Which will offset the necklace beautifully,” he reasoned. “Once the portrait is done, which should take about a week, we’ll hang it in your office at the Wild Rose.”
Her jaw literally fell open, and she looked at him as if he were a few rounds short of a full clip. “Why in the world would I hang a portrait of myself? And one that’s so…”
“Sexy?” he offered.
“Yes!”
She looked so indignant, he couldn’t stop the grin tugging the corner of his mouth. “Because that’s the kind of woman you’ve been portrayed as, someone who’s pampered and a little pretentious. And you are sexy, Paige,” he said. Then he added in a soft, meaningful tone, “Besides, you would have to hang a portrait that was a gift from your lover, wouldn’t you?”
She fingered the high collar of her turtleneck, where a becoming shade of pink was slowly rising. “Don’t you think this is taking things too far?”
“Nope.” He headed toward the walk-in closet, the last place they needed to search. She followed at a discreet distance. “Once the picture is up, our plant will tell Carranza that he’s heard about the portrait in which you’re wearing the necklace. That’s all it will take for Carranza to pay you a visit.”
“And put a gun to my head and demand the necklace?” she asked sarcastically from behind him.
He immediately tossed out the horrible image her question projected in his mind. It wasn’t a scenario he wanted to consider at the moment, though there would be precautions taken to avoid such a situation.
Turning on the light in the closet, he began sliding the clothes on hangers aside so he could check the wall behind. “Our sources tell us he’s not into violence unless absolutely necessary. Our guess is that he’ll make a few inquiries about the necklace and find out what you know about it. He might even pretend interest in purchasing it.”
She stretched and retrieved a blue-and-gray striped box on the shelf above the hanging garments. “And what do I tell him?”
“You tell him that it was a gift from your husband, and play it like it’s nothing more than costume jewelry.”
“And what if he wants to buy it?” she countered.
“Then you tell him it’s not for sale.”
“Isn’t that defeating the purpose of luring him?”
“No. He’ll pursue his interest in the necklace,” he said, confident of that. Turning, he found himself so close to Paige all he had to do was take half a step, lower his head, and he’d be able to kiss her like he’d been wanting to all day. Except he knew he’d never be able to stop at just one taste, and he knew she wasn’t ready to accept the full brunt of his feelings for her. At least not in the light of day.
With a harsh sigh, he dropped to his knees on the floor, examining the molding around the base and checking the wall for any cutouts. “Our main goal is to get on Carranza’s turf, which shouldn’t be too difficult. He’ll want to confiscate the necklace on his territory, surrounded and protected by his own people. It’s what we want, too, since we have our own plants who can arrest Carranza when everything goes down.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
He glanced up, meeting her gaze, seeing her need for a reassurance he had no right to give. “No, it’s not simple, Paige,” he said honestly. “It’s dangerous and it’s risky, but I’ll guarantee that you’ll be protected in every way possible. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Irritation flashed across her features and stretched her mouth into a grim line. “You can’t make those kind of promises, so don’t.” She turned her back to him and proceeded to search through the drawers built into the closet.
In frustration, he blew out a stream of breath, hating the tension vibrating between them. She was right, he couldn’t make promises of immortality. He didn’t have that kind of direct link to the big man upstairs. In truth, he had no way of predicting which way the chips would fall, and a part of him acknowledged that, with Paige’s life at stake, he was nervous as hell about the outcome of this sting. He could only speculate how Carranza would react to the situation, could only hope his sources knew Carranza as well as they believed. It was like engaging in an intricate chess game with a master player, trying to think ahead and outsmart your opponent before making the slightest move.
And in order to think straight enough to counter any move Carranza or his men made, he had to keep his feelings for Paige, and his worry for her, secondary to his survival instincts.
As he put that important thought foremost in his mind, his fingers brushed over the frayed ends of the carpet. He frowned, then followed the ragged edge along the molding to the corner of the closet. The carpet wasn’t tacked down as it should have been. Too easily, he stripped the piece back and found himself staring at a flat metal lid flush with the concrete foundation.
“I’ll be damned,” he muttered.
Paige knelt beside him. “What is it?” Her voice was as excited and eager as he felt.
Inserting his finger into the thumb-hole, he lifted the metal lid, revealing exactly what he’d anticipated. He looked at Paige and grinned triumphantly. “It’s a built in safe.”
4
AFTER DISCOVERING the hidden safe, Josh immediately contacted his lieutenant, who sent out a pair of detectives to Paige’s house, along with a team of forensic specialists to open the safe and secure the contents.
Two hours later, the extent of Anthony’s corruption lay spread before them on the master-bedroom floor. The contents of the safe included over a hundred thousand dollars in cash, several kilos of cocaine, and other narcotic paraphernalia Josh highly suspected had been pilfered from various drug busts. Stashed in a canvas drawstring bag amongst the other evidence they�
�d seized, they found the stolen diamond-and-emerald necklace, directly implicating Anthony-and explaining how he’d been able to afford such a luxurious house, and a life-style that stretched beyond a cop’s salary.
The proof of Anthony’s illegal behavior burned in Josh’s gut like acid. Judging by Paige’s pale complexion and the shock etched on her features as she stared at the evidence, Josh knew she was just as appalled that she’d been so blindly deceived by the man she’d married.
She lifted her gaze, meeting his. The depths of her eyes were a dark, turbulent shade of green. “I had no idea, Josh,” she whispered, her voice filled with confusion, and a deeper level of betrayal he fully understood. “How could I have not known?”
She wanted answers he wasn’t comfortable expressing with half a dozen law-enforcement officials privy to their conversation. His view of the situation was pure speculation, and he had no desire to have his opinion thrown into the investigation.
Gently taking her arm, he guided her to the bedroom door and away from the men photographing the area and dusting the contents of the safe for fingerprints. “Why don’t you go wait in the living room while these guys do their job, and I’ll be there in a few minutes, okay?”
She stiffened at his order, but didn’t argue. After one last troubled glance at the evidence, she headed down the hall and disappeared from Josh’s sight. He shoved his fingers through his hair in frustration, torn between the desire to follow her and offer the emotional support she so obviously needed, and the duty his job required. He knew, though, that by aiding in the case work, he was helping Paige in a significant way-helping to save her life.
He came up beside Peterson, who was photographing the scene and each individual item confiscated from the safe. “I need a picture of the Ivanov necklace sent to Lieutenant Reynolds ASAP.”
The older man with short-cropped salt-and-pepper hair nodded at Josh. “He’ll have a complete set on his desk by tomorrow morning.”
“Great.” After escorting Paige to the Wild Rose in the morning, Josh planned to deliver the portrait he’d requested from Paige, along with a photograph of the necklace, so the artist they’d commissioned could get started on the painting.
Leaving the rest of the logging and reporting to the detectives working on the case, Josh went to find Paige. She wasn’t in the living room where he’d asked her to wait, which sparked a bit of annoyance that she’d blatantly ignored his request. Instead, he found her standing out on the beach a good hundred yards from the house, alone and vulnerable, making an excellent target for anyone who might be watching her.
Moving onto the deck, he slipped off his loafers and socks, and put them beside Paige’s leather flats next to the wide set of wooden stairs leading to an endless playground of white sand. He headed toward where she stood just a few feet beyond the reach of the teasing and retreating surf.
She tilted her face toward the breeze. The position afforded him a glimpse of her profile-finely etched features that lent her a classical beauty. That wholesome, natural loveliness, combined with her impossibly sweet and generous nature, drew him like no other woman ever had.
After last night, the need to make her completely his was fierce and instinctive, a deep, primitive desire that skittered on the edge of recklessness. For three years, despite the unspoken awareness between them, they’d respected the perimeters of her marriage vows, even if Anthony hadn’t. Josh was a man who strongly believed in commitment and the bonds of marriage, and would never have crossed those matrimonial boundaries.
Circumstances had changed. For both of them. Paige no longer belonged to a man who’d treated her as a possession, and there were no sacred vows or a friendship for Josh to betray.
Circumstances, as awful and devastating as they were, had brought them together, heightening emotions and desires they’d suppressed for too long. If Paige had her way, judging by the brief discussion they’d had that morning, he suspected she’d let last night become a distant memory. For him, forgetting wasn’t even a remote possibility, not after discovering the sweet, honeyed taste of her, the soft feel of her body pressed beneath his, the intimate sounds she made when he eased deep inside her…
Having her just for one night would never be enough. Even now, his body quickened with the recollection of how incredibly responsive she’d been to his touch, how hungry she’d been…how needy. He’d been just as greedy, if not more so, because he wanted more than just one night of pleasure-he wanted endless tomorrows, and a lifetime of giving her everything she’d been missing in her marriage to Anthony.
He had a job to do and would protect her with his life. But he wasn’t about to let her forget that he’d filled an emotional and physical void, wasn’t about to let her tuck the memory away and revert to simple friendship. He’d give her time to adjust to the change-she deserved at least that much-but in the meantime he refused to pretend that nothing had happened between them.
She didn’t hear him approach; he deliberately moved stealthily, determined to make her realize the kind of danger that would surround her. Moving up behind her, he grabbed her upper arm, wringing a startled gasp from her throat. She automatically jerked away and stumbled sideways, but his tenacious hold prevented her from landing on her bottom in the sand.
When she finally found her footing, she turned to face him. She didn’t appear grateful for his assistance, not when he was responsible for shaking her up. Instead, she glared, her eyes shooting bright green flames of anger.
“Dammit, Josh,” she hissed furiously, ineffectively tugging her arm from his grasp. “You could have warned me you were coming up behind me!”
He offered no leniency, nor did he let go of her. “Carranza or his men wouldn’t have given a warning.” His tone was as grim as the picture his words painted.
She hesitated for a moment, his meaning sinking past her indignant tirade. Then, she lifted her chin defiantly. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t sneak up on me that way.”
If he hadn’t been so intent on proving a point, he would have found her stubbornness amusing. But the situation was dire, her cooperation a necessity. “And I’d appreciate it if, in the future, you’d listen to my orders. I asked you to wait for me in the living room.”
She glanced back at the house, her mouth thinning in disdain. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not be in the house right now.”
He understood her aversion to the corruption filling her home, but she still needed to take precautions. “Fine. Next time tell me and either I, or another undercover officer, will escort you outside.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, her expression reflecting her displeasure. “I resent this situation, Josh,” she snapped.
He sighed wearily, and gave her a halfhearted smile. “No more than I do.” Both of them had been betrayed by a man they’d trusted, and that knowledge cut deeply. More gently, he suggested, “Come on, let’s go for a walk.”
They strolled along the beach, near the water’s edge where the wet sand made the going easier. Their walk was calming, peaceful, and just what they needed to release the stress of the past few hours.
“I’m having a hard time understanding what compelled Anthony to steal all that stuff,” Paige commented, the first to break the companionable silence that had settled between them. “I feel so violated and deceived, in so many ways.”
The pain and disillusionment lacing her voice grabbed at him, made him furious at himself because he’d been just as blind to Anthony’s traitorous activities. “I think I know how you feel.”
“Do you?” Her sharp, angry question was a search for answers. “How could I have lived with Anthony for three years, and never have known that I was married to a criminal?”
He glanced at Paige, resisting the urge to reach out and smooth away the frown lines between her brows. Touching her was becoming an obsession, and that was dangerous to his concentration. “Because you accept people at face value.”
A mirthless little laugh caught in her thro
at and carried on the breeze. “Yeah, well, the joke’s on me, isn’t it?”
“On all of us, actually.” He pushed the tips of his fingers into the front pocket of his jeans, keeping his stride along the beach as casual as Paige’s. “Nobody wants to think that a cop might be on the wrong side of the law.”
“So why did he do it?” she asked softly.
The answer to that question wasn’t as simple as he would have liked. Glancing out at the ocean, he thought about all the possible replies that came to mind-the same ones he’d been mulling over for the past three months-and grasped the most logical explanation. “How much do you know of Anthony’s past?”
She thought for a moment, then shrugged. “I know he’s an only child and both his parents are dead. Other than that, Anthony refused to talk about his past. And after a while, I stopped asking.” She gave him an odd look tinged with a deeper layer of suspicion. “Why? What does his past have to do with all this?”
Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. He tried to define his thoughts so they made sense to her. “You know I’ve known Anthony since we went through the Academy together.”
She nodded, her gaze avid and curious. “Yes.”
“When I met him, he was barely making ends meet. We became friends, and since he was living out of his VW Bug, I let him stay at my condo until he could afford a place of his own.”
Back then, Anthony had been unpretentious enough to appreciate the simplicity of having a roof over his head. Somewhere along the way he’d changed. “One night after a few beers, he started talking about how he was going to be rich one day because he hated being poor. He’d grown up in a low-income neighborhood and struggled to keep himself and his mother from starving or being evicted from their tiny apartment. From what he told me, he didn’t have an easy childhood.”
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