Meeting the gaze of the leader, Cole swept a head-to-toe look for weapons. He knew how to read the creases, folds, and shapes beneath clothing that alerted him to the presence of knives or guns. Considering that all three men wore snug button-downs tucked into dark slacks, the only place he could figure a weapon to be was under a pant leg, in a shoe or boot. He had one placed there himself, difficult to detect thanks to the thickness of snakeskin.
The other detail he noticed was that these men were not the ones he’d faced off with in the warehouse when freeing Madalina. Adept at memorizing critical information, Cole felt certain these were yet more operatives sent specifically for this mission.
“McDonald?” the lead man asked when they were within hearing range.
“Yes,” Cole replied. Thanks to Thaddeus’s genius intervention, he would be known as McDonald throughout the entire transaction. In the future, he would be doing all of his nickname choosing. He kept one hand loose at his side, prepared to draw quickly if the need arose. The other held the box tucked against his ribs.
“Bob,” the Chinese man said.
Clearly there were some random names being thrown around today. Cole said, “I understand we have an agreement.”
“The agreement is: we will cease and desist pursuit of Miss Maitland upon delivery of the item.”
“And?” Cole said, arching a brow. He wanted the terms spelled out in the open.
“Her parents and acquaintances as well. We will not pursue her or them for more information.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear that. Should the agreement be broken, know that I’ve got the means to track you from here out, and you will be watched,” Cole said, noting a twitch of Bob’s cheek. That was Bob’s only outward reaction, which was good enough for Cole. It meant the man was reading between the lines and understood that Cole had the capacity to track him and members of his family down should the need arise.
“The dragon?” Bob asked in a tense voice.
Cole, never taking his eyes off the three men, extended the box. Simple and black with a gold closure in the front, the box had been his idea. Cole understood the importance of the dragon and had found a suitable vessel in which to deliver the artifact. He opened the closure himself and tipped the lid back. Nestled inside, on a thick bed of black velvet, the Treasure Dragon awaited transfer to its new owner. Against the refined backdrop, the dragon looked much more antiquated than when held in a bare hand.
Collectively, the agents drew in audible breaths and came closer. Their reverence was obvious, although the men did not let their guard down. Bob extended his hands; leaving the lid propped up, Cole delivered the box into the man’s care.
Bob stepped back as his companions stepped forward, coming even with his body. A brief examination took place, with the men handling the dragon as little as possible while they checked the opposite side and the underbelly. Their touches were light and gentle, almost as if they thought the carving had some sort of ethereal power.
Nodding once, a quick gesture of acceptance, Bob closed the lid and slipped the box into a red satin bag one of the other men produced. “This concludes our involvement in Miss Maitland’s—and your—life. She will not be bothered again.”
“I want to reiterate that she knows nothing more about any of the other dragons. We’ve checked extensively for clues and information and have come up empty every time. As I said before—this will be your last contact with her.” Cole drove the point home, even though Thaddeus had mentioned the same thing in the exchange of e-mails. Cole wanted the men to hear it live, from his own mouth, so there were no misunderstandings.
Again, Bob inclined his head.
In the next minute, the three men retreated into the crowd, swiveling looks left and right like they expected an attack from a different adversary now that the dragon was in their possession. How ironic. He followed the agents through the increasingly thick crowd back to the entrance of the fair, where he paused to observe the men aim for the parking lot and a waiting sedan. Sleek and silver, the car idled as the agents embarked. Darkly tinted windows hid the occupants from view. The sedan pulled away, speeding through the parking lot to the exit, and from there onto the street. He lost sight of the car in the heavy flow of traffic.
Still feeling conspicuous and tense, Cole made his way to the Jaguar.
He wanted to be away from the noise and chaos of the fair.
Minutes later he pulled out of the parking lot, heading in the opposite direction.
With any luck, that would be the last they would ever hear from the Chinese agents.
Madalina enjoyed Brandon’s company more than she thought she would. He was witty, dashing, and a little rakish. The tales he told of Cole’s youth were so outrageous that she suspected that Brandon had jokingly made half of them up. It entertained her, and she didn’t mind. The alternative was to pace and fret and watch every second tick off the hotel room clock. She noted that Brandon, despite his elaborate storytelling, kept an eye on everything. The door, the parking lot outside the window, and his cell phone. He was as well trained as Cole, as intent on keeping her safe as his brother.
When the door swung open without warning, Madalina surged to her feet in surprise. Cole entered, grinning, a gleam in his blue-green eyes.
“Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. And I don’t see blood, so that’s a plus,” Brandon called out.
Madalina didn’t care about protocol. She rushed across the room and threw herself into Cole’s arms. Brandon was right—he didn’t look injured. Caught up in Cole’s embrace, Madalina squeezed her arms around his neck and let him spin her in a circle. It felt right and natural to greet him so exuberantly. The rumble of his quiet laugh vibrated through her body.
“What happened? Did they try to pull a fast one? What did they say?” she asked, tipping her head back to see Cole’s eyes. She let him hold her aloft, feet off the floor.
“Yes, Cole, what did they say?” Brandon asked, gaze full of mischief.
“They have the dragon in their possession, and I have promises that they won’t be bothering any of us any longer. I insinuated that I had people there taking photos and video, that I had their faces and information, just to add an extra layer of protection. They’ll think twice before they consider another attack,” Cole said.
“Do you believe them?” Madalina asked.
“Yes. They were quite distracted with the dragon, and I think it’ll keep them busy for a while. I’m sure there will be celebrations and parties and all that.”
Madalina experienced a tiny pang upon hearing that the original dragon was truly gone. It was a minor pang and vanished quickly. “We’re really free of it all.”
“We are. I still think we should stick to my plan and remain here for another two days, but after that . . .” Cole let the sentence trail.
“Looks like you two are all set. Madalina, it was a pleasure to meet you. Cole, you know where to find me if you need me.” Brandon playfully saluted the duo and made his exit.
Madalina glanced back at Cole’s eyes once his brother was gone. “I probably should have been more discreet. I think we scared him off.”
Cole laughed. “I’m not sorry. We have some celebrating of our own to do.”
Madalina kissed his mouth. “And I know just where to start.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Madalina stared at the front of her rented house, ambivalent about going inside. Two days had passed since the festival, and she’d done nothing but think about the wreckage that awaited. Cole had made his plan clear: he wanted to return to the house today, not so much to begin the cleaning-up process but to see what, if anything, might happen. To see if the agents kept their word.
Although she knew Cole was armed, her nerves remained on edge.
“You ready to do this?” he asked at her side.
“Yes.” Madalina cast a surrepti
tious look up and down the street at the cars parked along the curb, then glanced at Cole. He, too, had been scanning the surroundings but met her eyes when her attention swung his way. “Do you think anyone will show up?”
“I feel confident that we’re in the clear—but it doesn’t hurt to make sure. As I said before, I think that they’re happy to have what they came for. It’s been decades of searching, and I’m sure they can’t wait to present the dragon to the higher members of their government or whoever sent them in the first place. It’s a monumental achievement, and I’m hopeful that the distraction of the dragon will keep the men at bay,” he said, squeezing her hand.
Madalina enjoyed the rough texture of his palm, the way his hand engulfed her own. “I hope so, too. I’m ready to get on with my life.”
“Ready to get back to the boutique, hmm?”
His question gave her pause. As before, she was less excited about returning to the task of inventory, paperwork, and management than she thought she would be. After high-speed chases and skulking from one hotel to another, it almost seemed mundane to go back to a nine-to-five job. Which was ridiculous. All she’d wanted from the start was for things to get back to normal.
He arched a brow at the hesitation.
“Yes, of course, I’m ready to get everything back in order,” she said.
“That wasn’t quite the question.”
“I don’t know,” she confessed with another glance at the street. She’d been on the run too long, spent too many days evading people to feel comfortable in the open yet. “It all seems . . . strange.”
“How so?”
“Just going back to work every day after all this. I can’t imagine doing the paperwork and ordering and unpacking and inventories when things have been so chaotic lately. I’m sure after a day or two, I’ll adjust.”
“Mmm, I think I understand. The action and suspense and mystery can be a little addicting.” Cole made it sound as if the sentiment was an understatement.
Madalina searched his eyes. “Is that why you do this? Because the action is addicting?”
“It’s part of the reason.”
“What’s the other part?”
“I get to work for myself, travel the world, and take what cases interest me most. It also pays extremely well.”
She quirked her lips. “Indeed.”
He squeezed her hand. “In a few weeks, what used to be normal will be normal again. It takes a little time to adjust. I have no doubt that you’ll enjoy your freedom once we’re certain the danger is past.”
“Then let’s get to it. I’m anxious to put all that behind me.”
The inspection of her house was a painful exercise in sorrow and frustration. Nearly everything she owned had been damaged in one way or another. Furniture, dishes, clothing. The house itself sustained more wounds than she’d initially thought: holes had been punched in the walls, the carpet had been ripped up in search of hidden compartments or cellar doors, and even the ceiling vents lay scattered over the floor. Rather than appearing as if the thugs destroyed her belongings out of rage, it seemed to Madalina an orchestrated event, leaving no stone unturned in the search. There was something methodical about the destruction, as if the men had gone room to room, object by object.
Some of her clothes were destroyed by the sheer force used in yanking them out of the closet and off the hangers. Her shoe collection had fared better. She was able to salvage eighteen pairs, although it took her thirty minutes to locate the matching sets amid the debris.
Cole aided in collecting anything important that could be saved, from kitchen utensils to coffee mugs to a lampshade that hadn’t been trampled. He remained alert throughout, often checking the windows for signs of unwanted visitors in the front or backyard. Once or twice he caught her eye, expression waning sympathetic yet stoic.
By the time they were ready to depart three hours later, Madalina had the equivalent of three plastic bins full of belongings. Three bins left from an entire household.
Cole carried two, one atop the other, out to the Jaguar. After setting the bins in the backseat, he took the final one from her arms and put it in the trunk.
“Well, I guess the good thing is that no one bothered us today,” Madalina said. She glanced from the car to the house, pensive, emotional.
“It’s a start. What do you think you want to do about the house? I’m sure you have to call the landlord, but what about living here? It’ll take a couple weeks, at least, to fix the drywall, paint, and lay down new carpet.” Cole closed the trunk and hovered at her side, staring into her eyes.
Madalina felt the weight of his gaze and glanced up. “I don’t know, Cole. I guess I could stay with Lianne while the repairs are made, then move back here once everything is fixed. If my landlord will allow me to stay, that is.”
He set a hand low on her back and escorted her around to the passenger’s side, then helped her into the seat. One arm on the open door, the other braced against the roof, he said, “I’m willing to help you make this place yours again. Or, I’ll help you find someplace new to rent. I know that sometimes it’s difficult to remain in a place where you feel your safety and privacy have been violated.” He paused, then held up a finger in a traditional wait gesture. Once he was ensconced in the driver’s seat, engine running, he said, “This may be too soon for you. Maybe not. But I’m going to find a place here to rent while you figure this out, and you’re welcome to stay there with me if you want to. It’ll be bigger than Lianne’s, you’ll have your own bedroom, and you can come and go as you please.”
While he got on the road, putting distance between them and the house, Madalina watched him rather than the scenery. Cole West was infinitely more interesting. She tried to decipher whether or not he was asking her to live with him—which was a rather shocking thought—or just to be roommates. Except they weren’t roommates at the hotel; they were lovers. Would she spend her nights in his bed or her own? She didn’t know where they stood or how to ask what was on her mind. The semantics mattered to her. After a moment she took the bull by the horns and said, “What does this mean? Will I be sleeping in your bed or mine, or yours only whenever we both feel like it? Is there a time limit that I have to move out? And no, since you brought it up, I don’t want to live in that little house anymore. I’m not sure I could sleep for worrying that someone would show up in the middle of the night and bash down my door.”
“I think we should take it one day at a time. I plan to stay here for a while, if things keep going the way they’re going, although I will have to go back to Rhode Island occasionally to take care of business and check on my home there. Maybe, if you’ve got time and want to, you can come with me.”
“Really?” Madalina hadn’t expected that.
“Really. Nothing will be too different than the way it is now, which we both seem comfortable with. I’m not dating anyone else, and I don’t plan on hooking up with other women while I’m with you. Instead of putting labels and names on things, why don’t we leave it at that?” He glanced across the car.
Madalina always preferred hard lines drawn in the sand when it came to relationships. Yet with Cole, he made the proposition of one day at a time sound appealing. Perhaps because it allowed her time to explore him, explore her own emotions. Surprisingly, she believed him when he said he didn’t plan on seeing any other women.
Reaching over, Madalina set her hand atop his. She slid her fingers through his, a gentle glide that sent tingles racing up her arm. The prospect of dating Cole without the pressure of being on the run, without the threat of danger, was alluring and enticing. Exactly the opposite of her type, Cole was nevertheless the most exciting, enigmatic man she’d ever been with.
“All right. One day at a time. I’d rather live in your house than sleep on Lianne’s couch,” she said, drawing a muffled sound of amusement from Cole.
“I hope so.”
He checked the mirrors, ever and always on alert. Then he shot her a quick wink and curled his fingers around hers, a gentle squeeze that Madalina returned. “I’ve had my brother searching for rental properties nearby. Want to check a few of them out?”
“Absolutely.” Madalina paused, then added, “By the way. I don’t think I ever said thank you.”
“For what?”
“For saving me in the warehouse.”
“You weren’t an idle victim, you know. That chair action was pretty intense. I nearly asked whether you really work for the CIA,” he said with a devious smile.
Madalina laughed and doffed a nonexistent hat. “Agent Maitland, at your service.”
Cole brought their combined hands to his lap and rested them on his thigh. “See, I knew there was more to you than met the eye.” His smile widened.
“Cole West, you haven’t seen anything yet.”
EPILOGUE
Madalina stood in the front yard of 224 Chestnut Drive, staring at the two-story, Tudor-themed home with wide-eyed glee. The peaked roof, mullioned windows, and traditional Tudor architecture appealed to her on every level. From the first second she’d laid eyes on the house six weeks ago, she’d been in love with it. And it was just as fabulous on the inside as the outside: 2,900 square feet, tiled floors, marble countertops, and three walk-in closets.
Cole hadn’t batted a lash when she said she didn’t want to see any other houses on the list of rentals, giving in to her whim with ease. She knew it was because he liked the house, too. It fit in with his preference for the finer things in life. Although the home wasn’t a mansion, it sat in an upscale, gated community, which gave them a little extra layer of protection.
Not that they’d needed it. The prior month and a half had been quiet, with no Chinese agents in sight. There had been no contact, no phone calls, no trailing cars. Each week that passed made Madalina feel better and better. She still looked over her shoulder when she drove to work, or even when she watered the yard. The sense of being hunted hadn’t vanished entirely. At the same time, she wasn’t as on edge as she had been; the fear and tension were finally receding.
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