The London Deception (10 page)

Before and after Rowan.

Why did it keep coming back to that? Over and over again, it came back to
her.
A slip of a girl who’d changed his life.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he dug it out, surprised to see his father’s number on the screen. “Dad.”

“Boyo. How are you?”

“Doing fine.”

“Hear you’ve got a big gig coming up.”

The notes of Patrick Gallagher’s Irish roots coated his words in a thick brogue, and even after more than a quarter century in London, Finn knew nothing would change that. “Word travels fast.”

“For a man who likes to stay in the know.”

While his father’s ready knowledge of his business unnerved him ever so slightly, he couldn’t hide the very real fact that his father also presented him with an opportunity to dig into who might be talking. “You know how much I love Egypt. And this is a big one.”

“The whole world’s watching, son. Can’t pick up a paper without reading some bit of news or another about the find.”

“As one of my subcontractors put it, everyone loves Egypt. There’s even rumor of a curse floating around.”

“Horseshit, I’d say.”

“I agree, but if it sells more papers, the press certainly isn’t going to argue.”

His father laughed, deep and hearty, and Finn couldn’t deny the small streak of sadness in how long it had been since they’d seen each other. He’d set his father up well, ensuring the man would never have to work again if he chose, but responsibility wasn’t the same as availability and he knew that.

So why did he always find a reason to stay away?

Patrick Gallagher had long since given up running numbers, far more content to spend his evenings talking with his cronies at the pub or squiring a widow he’d been seeing for a few years now around town. His father had gone respectable, and he was glad for it.

Yet he still kept his distance.

“So what else are you hearing?”

“That’s just it, son. I’m hearing a lot. No substance but a hell of a lot of chatter.”

That same streak of unease that had dogged him after leaving Will’s office flared high once more. “What sort of chatter?”

“I first heard it down at the pub when you got the job and didn’t give much thought past how proud I was of you. But it’s come up a few more times. From different folks ’n’ all. Everybody seems to know something about this dig going down in Egypt. It makes me wonder why and I just thought you ought to know.”

“Thanks.”

Finn mentally batted around the idea of asking who had shared the news, but there was no need. Word spread so quickly among his father’s friends, the likelihood of pinning whoever had originated the information was slim to none.

It was the very fact a group of men with suspicious backgrounds should have any knowledge of his impending project at all that was the real question.

“Finn.” His father stopped, the line suddenly quiet except for the subtle sound of Patrick Gallagher’s breathing.

“Yes?”

“Be careful. Promise me that.”

“I will.”

“I know these are the fancies of an old man, but I need you to listen to me on this. I’ve got a bad feeling. Like the weeks leading up to your ma’s passing.”

The words hit with the force of a battering ram, the mere mention of his mother so foreign on his father’s lips Finn almost wondered if he’d heard correctly.

“I see. Look, I’ve got a team of people with me. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“I couldn’t sleep if I didn’t warn you it’s got my antenna quivering.”

The line went quiet once more, and before he even realized it, the next words were spilling out. “So. Well. When I get back, we should get together.”

“I’d like that.”

“Me, too, Dad.”

* * *

The heavy knock on her door pulled Rowan from her computer and she rubbed her eyes as she stared at the clock. She’d been reviewing various materials Kensington had dug up on the team assigned to Baxter Monroe’s staff, trying to determine if any of them were vulnerable. She hadn’t turned up anything yet, but her sister was mind-numbingly thorough. Rowan had only gotten through about half the materials and she’d been at it about four hours already.

She dragged open the door and let out a squeal when her brother Liam filled the door. With another small scream, she leaped into his arms. “What are you doing here?”

“Ro.” Liam hugged her close and she was surprised to feel his thin form under her arms. Although both her brothers were on the leaner side of muscular, Liam had more heft to him than Campbell. Yet hugging him, she’d almost swear it was Campbell wrapped around her.

Rowan stepped back and gestured him into the room. “You’ve lost weight, Liam.”

“It’s great to see you, too.” He shot her a wry smile before closing the door behind him. “What are you up to?”

“Prep for the job I’m working on. We leave for Egypt in two days.”

“So I hear. Grandfather’s got himself in a twist you didn’t call the moment you landed.”

“Campbell gave me up. He and Grandmother have been talking near daily on plans for the wedding, and I figured he let it slip.”

“My money’s usually on Kenzi but you’re probably right. You know she and Grandfather are thick as thieves. I swear she has a call with him every morning as she eats her oatmeal and blueberries.”

“No way.”

“Yes, way. I finally put two and two together when all my calls from him seemed to follow a pattern. They talk at seven in New York, and by seven-thirty I’m getting a call.”

“He watches out for us.”

“Sometimes too closely.”

Rowan wondered at her brother’s cryptic message, combined with the clear loss of weight. “You sure everything’s all right?”

“Of course. Just been busy.”

She wasn’t so easily brushed off, but her oldest brother was known for his vaultlike ability to keep his mouth shut. She’d get it out of him eventually...when he was good and ready to share. In the meantime, she could enjoy his company or spend the time frustrated she wasn’t getting anything out of him.

Following a pattern they’d set decades before, she opted for enjoying his company. “I didn’t know you were in London.”

Liam settled onto the couch. “I wasn’t supposed to be but I’m working on a lead for Kensington and it was easier to do it in person.”

“Seems awfully generous of you. And since when doesn’t she like taking business trips?”

“Since she’s decided she needs to single-handedly bring in all business for the House of Steele. She’s bid on no fewer than eight projects in the last month and secured six of them.”

“We’ve got to slow down or add to staff.”

His eyebrows shot up at that one. “Would you trust anyone else inside our walls?”

“Hell no.”

“Then who are we going to hire? We’ve got no one beyond T-Bone running point for Campbell, and Grandmother’s been pushing Kenzi to talk to Great Aunt Marta’s granddaughter, Fiona. Other than that, it’s just us.”

“Wasn’t Fiona the one with braces who used to terrorize Grandpa’s hounds?”

Liam’s smile was quick and it was the first sign her brother might be inside somewhere. “Rumor has it she’s grown up, Ro. And she’s not that much younger than you.”

“Yes, well, I suppose it does happen. And I think I do remember Kensington saying something about her. She’s been in a master’s program at Harvard?”

“That’s the one.” Liam leaned forward and dropped his clasped hands between his knees. “You want to get some dinner?”

“Sure.”

“Got anything to drink in the meantime?”

“Liam, what’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“You can keep telling me that lie, or we can go get Indian food and I’ll sweat it out of you with your chicken vindaloo.”

Liam shook his head but he was already on his feet, clearly ready to leave. “You don’t miss much.”

“Neither do you. It’s an annoying family trait.”

“We all have it.”

Rowan grabbed her coat and her purse. “And we all are annoyed about it, aren’t we?”

Liam wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

An hour later, Rowan was no closer to what was bothering Liam as they sat in the back corner of a small restaurant not far from the hotel. She had, however, spewed her guts on what had been happening in her life.

Damn it, but her big brother was crafty.

“Has Finn given you any reason not to think he’s playing you straight?”

Rowan picked at a piece of naan bread, the soft, warm texture the exact comfort food she was looking for as she attempted to catch her brother up on all the ins and outs of her current situation.

Did she dare tell him what had happened all those years ago on the Warringtons’ roof?

And did it really matter any longer anyway?

The bigger question, to her mind, was what did Liam really know?

“I got in some trouble when I was sixteen.”

The glass of wine that was halfway to her brother’s lips stopped, suspended for the briefest moment before he set it back down on the table. “In trouble how?”

“I attempted to steal a priceless bracelet from a friend’s home. Halfway succeeded, too.”

“Halfway?”

“You really don’t know about this?”

“No, I don’t.” His voice grew deeper and his jaw tighter. “I know nothing about it.”

If his tone hadn’t been enough of a clue, the sheer lack of guile in his eyes—coupled with deep concern—satisfied her that the conversation she’d had with her grandfather had stayed between them.

So she started at the beginning and told him the entire story. The irony of the moment wasn’t lost on her as she recounted the events of that night. She’d held her secrets for well over a decade, and in a day she’d shared them twice.

“Ro, why? It’s not like you needed the money.”

“I didn’t do it for the money.”

“Then why?”

She searched for the words, but they remained elusive. How did you explain to someone who didn’t understand? Despite years of careful review of her behavior and the determination to make something more of her life, she’d never been able to fully explain those glorious feelings of completion. “I did it for the thrill. For the taking. That’s all.”

“I never knew. Never had any idea.” The sadness she saw in that aqua-blue gaze hit home just how her behavior affected her loved ones. “And I’m still not entirely sure I understand why.”

“It was different for me than the rest of you. I was the youngest and my life changed the most. And stealing...stealing was the one place I felt like I was in control.”

He’d gripped her hand throughout the telling and it was only at her words that he let go and reached once more for his wine. “All our lives changed.”

“I’m not saying you didn’t suffer.”

“What are you saying, then?” That vivid blue gaze pinned her with its brilliance and in its depths she saw something she’d missed for so very long.

Pain.

“I’m just saying it was different, Liam. That’s all.”

He nodded before his natural curiosity took over. “So Finn was the guy who helped you escape?”

“Yes.”

“Remind me to buy him a bottle of something really, really nice.”

“Grandfather’s already summoned him to dinner. I think he may beat you to the punch.”

Liam sat back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face. “Grandfather’s summoned you both to the house?”

“For dinner tomorrow.”

“You know, I was going to head home in the morning, but maybe I’ll stick around.”

“Great. You can run interference.” Rowan sat back, the rich scent of spices wafting between them, as their waiter set their matched dishes of chicken vindaloo on the table.

Liam waited until their waiter had departed before he shook his head. “No way am I helping. In fact, it’s going to be a joy to watch you both squirm.”

“That’s not nice.”

“Not trying to be nice. You earned this summons fair and square. I’m just glad it’s not me for a change.”

Rowan took a bite of her dish, wincing when the intense spice hit her tongue. She’d ordered her meal extra hot, and the chef hadn’t disappointed. “Don’t worry. We all seem to rotate through the weight of all that good old-fashioned British scrutiny with shocking regularity.”

“I’m not sure how the old man does it. We’re grown adults and he still manages to instill fear and deference.”

“I wish I knew. I might be able to fight it better if I did.”

They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes, the clinking of their forks rivaled only by the sound of their water glasses hitting the table after every few bites.

“Why’d I let you talk me into this?” Liam muttered as he forked up more chicken.

“It was supposed to be part of my diabolical plot to get you to confess what you’ve been up to lately yet here I am running my mouth.”

He reached for his glass, a small smile tilting the corner of his lips. “Score one for me, then.”

“Seriously. What is going on?”

“Nothing other than running my ass off globe-trotting on behalf of our wealthy and often misguided clients.”

“You’d tell me if you were having problems, wouldn’t you?”

“No.”

“Liam!”

“Oh, come on. It took you twelve years to let me know you were a thief and nearly got caught by thugs at the tender and vulnerable age of sixteen. I’m thinking of kettles and pots, little sister.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’ve missed something because you’re too busy pining over how hurt you are.”

The combination of his words and the heat on her tongue had her coughing and it was several minutes later—her eyes still full of tears—that she was finally able to concentrate on his statement. “What have I missed?

“The thing I’ve been wondering since you started your story.” He leaned forward, his voice quiet. “Where’s the bracelet?”

Chapter 9

J
ared Wright stabbed the answer button on his cell phone as he dropped behind the large desk in his office. A glass of vodka sat at his elbow and he reached for it as he grunted out a hello.

“Someone nibbled on the details on the message forum.”

“And?”

“I dug into it. Seems the questions are coming from a professor at UCL.”

Jared knew the program at UCL was one of the finest in the world, so it made sense an archaeology professor would be haunting Egyptian sites. “Were the questions scholarly?”

“Nope. He’s looking for something.”

“You think he’s working alone?”

“Only way to know is to string him along with a few answers and then follow him.”

The retort that sprang to his lips was quick and nasty, but he held it back, taking a sip of his drink instead. Damn it, but it was nearly impossible to find people who could be proactive in a crisis. “Then do it. Don’t let him know you’re on him, and keep me informed.”

“On it.”

He disconnected the call and threw his phone on the desk. He finished off the glass of vodka and reached for the bottle. While the idiot was too quick to ask for approval of his actions, he
had
suggested the message board overall and obviously it had paid off.

Jared knew he’d come late to the internet game and he’d paid the price. Those who were more enterprising had found ways to use the web to their advantage, putting cryptic messages out and ensuring those in the know read between the lines.

The use of technology had put him behind and he was damned if he was going to lose any more ground.

His man would follow the professor and they’d get to the bottom of things. If the guy was as harmless as he seemed, a few hours of Teddy’s time was a small price to pay. If not, someone else was looking to horn in on his territory.

Either way, he’d be ready for them.

He picked up the phone once more and dialed the woman he’d come to think of as his client. To think of her any other way left him a poor mixture of confused and seduced.

And he hated being either.

He’d worked too long to gain his place in the world to give it all away because he couldn’t keep it in his pants.

“Hello, darling.”

He tightened at the seductive purr from the other end of the phone, and Jared fought to keep his voice level. “Teddy got a hit on the forums.”

“Did he, now? From where?”

“A professor with UCL.”

“They’re not engaged in the dig. This is so high profile all their students were denied because so many professionals want in on the project.”

Her ready grasp of the excavation in the Valley of the Queens was absolute, and the comment only reinforced that. “Which is why it’s likely idle curiosity.”

“What forum thread got the nibble?”

“A few of them. The professor’s nosing around anything having to do with the dig itself and also hit on that seed we planted on the curse.”

“I knew it was only a matter of time until someone bit.” Her husky laugh ran sensual fingers down his spine. “To think anyone believes in curses in this day and age. Aah, the wondrous powers of ancient Egypt. Even smart people lose their heads.”

“Sucker born every minute.”

The laughter ended abruptly as she kept the conversation on point. “You tell Teddy to be careful how he handles this. We’re a week out from getting our hands on the jewelry. I don’t want anything standing in the way and I don’t want anyone tipped off.”

Jared wasn’t exactly sure how she did it, but she always ensured he understood she was ultimately in charge of the game. “He’s always careful.”

“See that he stays that way.”

“Of course.”

“Have you put the measures we discussed in place to keep our old friends off-balance?”

The change in topic was immediate and further proof that she had her finger on the pulse of everything.

“Everything we discussed is in place. They won’t be in the Valley for the first extraction.”

“Excellent.” The spark of approval in that purr had him ridiculously pleased. “And, Jared...”

The tension in his body tightened another notch and he knew what came next, even without yet hearing the words. “Yes?”

“The back door’s unlocked.”

He wanted to tell her he was busy. Wanted to ignore the demands of his body and this shocking need to be with her as often as possible. Instead, he heard his voice, so heavy with need it echoed like a growl in his head. “I’ll see you around ten.”

The light tinkle of knowing laughter that greeted him before he disconnected the phone would keep him company, he knew, through the interminable minutes until he could see her again.

* * *

Liam’s question hovered in her mind long after he’d deposited her back at her hotel, and Rowan couldn’t shake off the restless need to find Finn and demand he tell her about the bracelet.

How had she missed something so important?

And if Finn did still have it, why had he kept the information from her?

She wanted to trust him and believe his past didn’t define him, but what if he wasn’t one of the good guys? Or worse, what if she’d allowed her attraction for him to color the purity of his motives?

Those questions and so many others had her bundling up a few minutes later and securing a taxi to take her across town to the Shard. The irony wasn’t lost on her that she was in a cab instead of the Underground as she’d boldly proclaimed to Finn, but she needed speed, and the lighter evening traffic meant the cab was quicker.

Where she expected difficulty getting past security, the process was anything but, and within moments the concierge was directing her to the elevator that ran to Finn’s apartment.

“This is a pleasant surprise.” Finn was waiting at the entrance to his apartment when she stepped off the elevator.

“Yes, well, we need to talk.”

The rush of the past hour and the more-than-fascinating view of him dressed in jeans and a gray T-shirt that showed off his upper body to perfection had nerves leaping in her belly like a swarm of bees.

She was a woman who liked being in control—in her life, in her job, in her family—so the fact that she felt so distinctly off-kilter was more than a little unnerving. Especially when the curl of desire in her belly was doing a damn fine job of pushing all those angry bees out of the way.

“Come on in.”

The heat of his body hit her like a brand when she brushed past him through the door and another lick of attraction hit her with all the power of an oncoming train.

Rowan fought to hang on to the tenuous threads of her anger as she walked into his large living room and stopped dead in her tracks. London spread out before her, the city’s lights winking brightly through the windows. She could see the London Eye and Big Ben and Parliament across the banks. Could see the various walking bridges that joined each bank of the Thames. And when she turned, the central business district shone like a jewel, each distinct landmark bright with lights.

“These views are amazing. I realize I’m standing here, but this is really where you live?” She turned away from the windows, curious to what she’d see on his face. Pride? Ennui? Maybe both?

“We’re both standing here, aren’t we?”

“Yes, but I mean you live here. Like, every day.”

He did laugh at that, his smile wide and his eyes full of the same wonder that tinged his words. “I’m still getting used to the views myself.”

“How you doing with that?”

“Would I ruin your opinion of me if I told you I’m in awe every time I look out the window? I’ve been here about ten months and I still haven’t stopped catching my breath at odd moments.”

The ready evidence he wasn’t wholly unaffected went a long way toward cooling her initial upset. “You say things like that and it’s hard to stay mad at you.”

“What did I do?”

“You don’t know?”

“No, I don’t.”

He moved up behind her and settled his hands on her shoulders. He flicked the pad of his thumb along the base of her neck and she could have sworn she was in immediate danger of going up in flames. “Can I take your coat?”

She shrugged out of the thin jacket, not fully trusting there wouldn’t be a quaver to her voice at the sensual play of his hands on her body. After he took her jacket, she turned on her heel, the windows beckoning her closer for a better look.

“What have I done, Rowan? I can’t imagine this is a social call, especially since we have a meeting at seven tomorrow.”

Her gaze alighted on Big Ben and she willed herself to take strength from it. The clock wasn’t simply a landmark. It had stood watch over London for a century and a half, its bells ringing with hourly constancy.

It was up to her to do the same.

Long ago, she’d reformed her life, and while she knew she dealt with many who lived in the shadows, she refused to out-and-out partner with someone who didn’t feel the same way. With that vow in mind, she turned from the windows to face Finn.

And the uncertain reality that she might not hear something positive.

“This couldn’t wait until tomorrow and it has nothing to do with Egypt.”

“What is it, then?”

“Where’s the Victoria bracelet?”

* * *

Finn exhaled on a heavy breath. He knew it was only a matter of time. Had thought as much when he’d replaced the bracelet in the safe earlier after his discussion with his father.

He simply hadn’t calculated on the question coming so soon.

“Why the sudden curiosity?”

“So you do have it.”

“Answer me first.”

“It was my brother’s idea, actually.”

Finn wasn’t sure how her brother got involved, so he gestured to the leather sectional that framed the living room. “Why don’t you sit down and start from the beginning and please explain why your brother has anything to do with this?”

When he remained standing after she’d taken a seat, that cute little frown that meant she was thinking about something flashed across her face. “Aren’t you going to sit down?”

“I’m going to get some wine first. For both of us, if that’s all right with you?”

“Of course.”

He kept a small bar stand on the one wall that wasn’t full of windows and he crossed to it now. “Why don’t you start telling me while I open the wine? I have to admit I’m curious.”

“Liam’s in town and he met me for dinner. He managed to get the story of our late-night escapade at the Warringtons’ out of me.”

Surprise had him fumbling the corkscrew as he worked on opening a bottle of Cabernet. “He didn’t know?”

“No one knew besides my grandfather. And, well, I’ve always suspected my grandmother knows as well because they don’t keep secrets from each other, but that’s it. The only other person who knew about my problem was my therapist, and even she didn’t know about the objects I stole.”

“Your grandfather didn’t make you return what you stole?”

“Anonymously, yes.”

The cork slid free and Finn set it next to the bottle as he reached for glasses. “How many did you pull before that night?”

“Big jobs?”

He turned around and couldn’t hold back the smile. “Are there any other kind?”

“Fourteen.”

The long, low whistle escaped his lips before he thought to hold it back. “Impressive.”

“And stupid.”

“I thought we already agreed to that.” He poured the rich red into their glasses, then crossed back to the couch and handed her one. “To misguided choices.”

“And mastering them.” She took a sip, then set the wine down on his coffee table. “Delicious.”

Like you.
The words rose up so quickly his hand trembled as he lifted his own glass to his lips.

What was it about this small slip of a woman? She twisted him up in knots, and no matter how hard he fought to remain unaffected, every moment in her presence was like a drug.

“Now. Enough small talk. Where’s the bracelet?”

“In my safe.”

“What?” The word exploded from her lips as she leaped off the couch. “You cannot be serious.”

“I’m absolutely serious.”

“That’s a priceless bracelet.”

“And owned by the Royal Family.”

A heavy sigh escaped her lips, the heft of his words sinking in. “It can’t be.”

“It’s true. Lord Warrington bought it on the black market.”

The words had their desired effect and she fell back onto the couch with a light thud. “He stole it?”

“Or had someone steal it for him. Either way, the provenance on that bracelet wasn’t his.”

“Well, it sure as hell isn’t yours, either.”

The lush wine turned sour on his tongue and he set his glass next to hers on the coffee table. “What did you want me to do with it?”

“Turn it in. Report it. Hell, send it off anonymously. You should have done what you needed to do to get it back to its rightful owner.”

“And how would I have done that and not tipped those thugs off to who I was?”

“I don’t know but you find a way.”

An irrational shot of anger speared through him. “That’s rich, Rowan, seeing as how you were the one who actually removed the piece from the Warringtons’ safe.”

She was back up off the couch, but instead of standing still, she skirted the coffee table to pace the room. The lights of the city glowed behind her and he couldn’t hold back the deep-seated need that beat in his veins.

She was in his home. Here, among all he’d worked for.

“This isn’t about me.”

“Convenient time to get amnesia.”

“I’m not the one who’s held on to a priceless piece of jewelry for the last twelve years.”

He couldn’t sit still any longer, seated under her accusatory glare. With one solid motion, he was up and on his feet, ready to argue it out. “And where, exactly, was I going to send it? Last time I checked Buckingham Palace doesn’t exactly accept unsolicited packages.”

“A museum. A university. Hell, find some lawyers who handle royal business. Whatever, but you get it the hell back where it belongs.”

“And what about that small little fact that I had a price on my head and was attempting to lie low? How was I supposed to handle that?”

“It’s been twelve years, Finn. That’s a long time for people to forget.”