They pulled up in front of police headquarters in their rental car a little before midnight. She observed while Jeff did the talking. He was very smooth and managed to extract a few details about the latest theft, but the police held their cards close to the chest.
Kat and Jeff wandered toward the exit, and when no one was paying attention, ducked down a side hall that brought them to the evidence locker. Jeff flashed her a Special Forces hand signal to fall back. One eyebrow raised, she did so, fading into the shadows well down the hallway.
And then his tactic became clear. He bellied up to the check-in window and plied his considerable Southern charm on a female evidence officer, who in short order was hanging over the gate and flirting right back at him. Kat had to give him credit. The woman was putty in his hands in a matter of minutes.
Almost as fast as she’d succumbed to him, dammit.
Kat barely registered the additional details he coaxed out of the woman. If that woman leaned much farther forward, she was going to fall out of her uniform. Jeff must be getting an eyeful of the woman’s ample cleavage. Only one painting taken last night from the Valliard place.
Oh, and now the chick was fondling her top button, toying with the idea of “accidentally” slipping it free. Hussy. The Monet was, indeed, stolen sometime in the past twenty-four hours.
If that woman licked her lips one more time, Kat was going to lick them for her-with her knuckles. The police strongly suspected the Ghost based on the complete lack of evidence left behind.
Jeff pocketed the slip of paper with the woman’s phone number on it and turned to sashay down the hall. Kat fell in behind him, closing on his six like a dutiful wingman.
Not that she felt the least bit dutiful at the moment, however. Equal parts fury and humiliation swirled in her afterburners, making for an explosive mix. Had she fawned all over him like that? Had he flashed her a smile and a suggestive look or two over dinner and then watched her fall into his arms on cue? He was insufferable to behave like that! And she was a fool to have fallen for him like some gullible groupie.
Except that his desire for her had been real. She might not know much about men, but she was dead certain he hadn’t been faking in the helicopter. Desire being the operative word, however. For all his big talk about her being his soul mate, so far he’d only actually displayed a large dose of healthy male lust for her. And he’d turned on the charm for another woman fast enough.
Hah. And he said he never used sex to help with his work. She might have hassled him about it, but she had no desire to further probe the little green monsters bouncing around in her stomach.
One thing she knew for sure. She was a mess. How Jeff Steiger had managed to throw her this totally off balance this fast, she had no idea. But she didn’t like it. When they got to their hotel, she was having a nice long meditation and getting him thoroughly out of her system-regardless of her failure to do so in the helicopter.
As for the job at hand, there wasn’t much to mull over about the theft. There was no sign of forced entry. An excellent security system had inexplicably been circumvented. The caretaker had worked there for thirty-five years and had an airtight alibi for last night, not to mention a sterling reputation on the island. It was the Ghost, through and through.
On their way out of the police station, they ran into the detective in charge of the art theft investigation. The guy seemed none too pleased that they were still hanging around.
Jeff asked the detective, named Elgin D’Abeau, “Would you mind if we went out and had a look at the Valliard place in the morning?”
All guise of friendliness evaporated. “Sorry, mon. Dis is a police mattuh. Stay out of it, and tell your people to stay away, too.”
Kat assumed that by “your people,” the detective meant the American government. Yikes. Lack of police cooperation would spell big trouble for their op. Time for a quick intervention.
She spoke up smoothly. “As you know, Detective, Mr. Steiger represents certain American interests. I, however, do not.” She caught the flash of surprise in Jeff’s eyes, and also how quickly he masked it. He was good, all right.
Time for a little flirtation of her own. After all, what was good for the gander was good for goose. She smiled intimately at D’Abeau and let her hand drift up to the detective’s shoulder seemingly of its own accord.
“Actually, I work for Lloyd’s of London-” her hand drifted lower. Slid off his elbow and fluttered to her throat. “I’d appreciate it if you could keep that under your hat-you understand-the sensitive nature of this case-”
She tucked a lock of errant hair behind her ear, running her fingertip suggestively around her earlobe. She let her voice go breathy and took a small step forward, bringing her subtly but definitely into the guy’s personal space. “I wouldn’t dream of interfering in any way, of course-”
His nostrils flared, and his pupils expanded sharply as he nodded in agreement.
Time to go for the kill. “My employer is deeply concerned about this string of thefts and Lloyd’s would like to offer any assistance we can in the matter. I’ll see to it personally.” Loaded emphasis on the deeply and the personally, of course.
The detective swayed forward, a slow grin unfolding on his face. He purred back, “Of course, Ms. Kim. I completely understand.”
She’d bet he did. She continued in her huskiest voice, dripping with all the sex she could muster. “Of course, my firm wouldn’t want to cause a fuss by advertising my presence here-perhaps even scare certain residents into leaving the island. I must ask that you exercise the utmost discretion regarding mentioning my affiliation-deeply appreciative and all. Our intent is to stay completely clear of your investigation, of course.”
For good measure, she stroked his arm again. The guy about came out of his skin. He drawled, “Lloyd’s, is it? Well now, little lady. I’m proper glad you’re here. We’d be grateful for any help you can give us. You understand that I can only help you unofficially.”
“But of course. I’d have it no other way. I’m happy to share anything I learn with you. We understand each other, then. I’ll make sure my American associate behaves himself.” She let a hint of disdain enter her voice as she referred to Jeff.
Thankfully, Jeff was lightning fast on the uptake and didn’t react to her comment. But if she wasn’t mistaken, there was a certain whiteness about his mouth-or maybe it was the clenched fists jammed deep in his pockets that gave away his tension.
She shared an overlong handshake with the eager detective, then turned to leave. She spoke to Jeff in approximately the same tone she might use to address a Great Dane. “Come along, Mr. Steiger. I need a decent cup of tea before I retire. I sincerely hope I can get one on this island.”
“Along with a rousing game of cricket and some kippers,” Jeff grumbled under his breath in a fake British accent.
She bit back a smile as she sailed out of the police headquarters. The car had pulled away from the curb before Jeff burst out, “Lloyd’s? What if D’Abeau checks your credentials with them?”
Not going to say anything direct to her about flirting with the detective, was he? Smart man-he must realize she would call him on the little game he’d played with the woman back in the evidence locker.
“One cover story coming up.” She dialed H.O.T. Watch Ops on her cell phone. “Hey, Jenn, it’s Kat. I need you folks to patch a phone call through for me. Lloyd’s of London. I know it doesn’t open till nine London time, but they’ve got a twenty-four-hour number and they’ll connect me to the person I need.”
The H.O.T. Watch staff found the number and put the call through impressively fast. In a few moments, a woman’s British-accented voice said briskly, “You’re speaking to Lloyd’s of London. How may I help you?”
“I need to speak to Michael Somerset. Could you ring me through to his home number straight away? Tell him it’s Cobra. He’ll take the call.”
To the operator’s credit, she didn’t make any comment on the strange request. A familiar, albeit sleepy, voice came on the line.
“Cobra? What can I do for you at this lovely hour of night?”
She laughed. “I need a cover. For the next few weeks, I need to be a contract investigator for Lloyd’s. Can you arrange that?”
“Sure. The boys owe me a few favors after the mess I just helped them clean up.”
“You’re the best.”
“Anything else I can help with? Do you need any information from Lloyd’s to assist in this investigation of yours?”
“Now that you mention it, I could use a list of properties in Barbados. Private homes in particular with insurable art collections.”
“I assume we’re talking about high-end pieces?”
“Yes.”
“Do you need it now, or can I roll over and take care of it first thing in the morning?”
“Morning’s soon enough.”
“Is Mamba with you?” he asked hopefully.
Mamba was Medusa Aleesha Gautier’s field handle. She and Michael had met and fallen in love on a mission two years ago. “Alas, no. She’s still doing what she has been for the past several weeks.”
“Got it.”
As special operators, both of them were conditioned never to mention the specifics of any training or mission over a telephone line, secure or otherwise.
“Thanks, Michael. You’re the best.” She disconnected and noticed Jeff glaring over at her. “What?”
“Who in the hell is Michael Somerset?”
Amusement flashed through her. My, my. Was Mr. We’ve-got-to-set-this-thing-between-us-aside jealous, perchance? Apparently, after her flirting with the detective, a middle-of-the-night phone call to another man to collect a major favor was too much for Jeff to swallow.
Entertained, she shrugged. “I met Michael on a mission a couple of years back.”
“And?”
She blinked innocently. “And what?”
He glared for a moment, but then, oddly, his features smoothed out. The jealousy drained from him as quickly as it had flared. “You wouldn’t be teasing me if you actually had a thing going with him.”
He smiled over at her, a lopsided expression conveying chagrin. “Okay, so I deserved to have you yank my chain like that. For some inexplicable reason, I’ve developed a jealous streak as far as you’re concerned. And no, I don’t usually react this way around women. You’re an anomaly. Normally, I’m the soul of nonjealousy. But then, I don’t usually meet the woman I’m planning to marry, either. I plead the novelty of that event to explain my weird behavior.”
He stopped babbling to shift lanes of traffic.
“Are you done yet?” she asked, now truly amused.
That earned her a baleful look.
Chuckling, she took pity and let him off the hook. “Michael helped the Medusas stop a cruise-ship hijacking. It was a dicey mission we couldn’t have pulled off without him. He’s British Intelligence, and he happens to be finishing up an undercover op at Lloyd’s at the moment.” She paused. “He’s engaged to one of my teammates, if that makes you feel better.”
Jeff digested that in silence for several minutes. Then he asked, “So how does it work when one of you ladies wants to get married?”
“Well, the man usually decides to pop the question, then he buys a nice engagement ring, and he thinks up some romantic and creative way to ask the Medusa in question-”
“Very funny. I’m talking about your careers.”
She shrugged. “How do you guys get married and maintain your Special Forces careers?”
He frowned. “It takes a special woman to marry an operator. She has to understand the long absences, the inability to talk about our work, the psychological and emotional residue of missions…”
“It works the same for us. We have to find men with the same qualities. Plus, they have to be okay with being around women who are a wee bit athletic and trained to do violence.”
“So I gather jokes about PMS and mood swings are not recommended around y’all?”
She smiled. “Probably not at the time of the actual mood swing, no.”
“Duly noted.” A pause. “What about kids?”
“I’ll let you know. Our team leader is pregnant right now. She’s the first one of us to cross that bridge.”
“Will she go back out in the field after the baby’s born?”
“I don’t know. The best female marathon runners in the world claim they don’t reach their peak until after they’ve had a child. She should be able to make the physical comeback. I suppose it’ll boil down to whether or not she wants to leave her baby and go back out.”
“What’s the military’s take on it?”
“They’ll work with her. They don’t want to lose her.”
Thankfully, the rather bizarre conversation broke off as they reached the hotel. Jeff took charge of checking them in. It was nice for a change to let someone else take the initiative and do the work. She was so used to being independent, a loner even, and to doing for herself that she almost forgot people occasionally interacted with, and even helped, each other. Her teammates aside, of course. They were family, and they all looked out for each other. It was the Medusa way.
The folks at H.O.T. Watch had arranged for a two-bedroom suite in an elegant hotel and it was ready and waiting for them. Together, she and Jeff did a routine check of the suite for bugs and cameras, and it was clean. Not that she expected otherwise. They hadn’t been on the island long enough to attract that kind of attention.
When they finished, Jeff asked, “Are you up for a little field trip?”
“To the Valliard estate to figure out how the Ghost pulled off last night’s heist?”
“Exactly. I thought we might indulge in a bit of breaking and entering.”
She laughed up at his sparkling gaze. “How romantic. I thought you’d never ask.”
“Hey, do I know how to sweep a girl off her feet or what for a second date?”
Another date? Oh, boy. They both knew it couldn’t really be a date-not after their encounter in the helicopter-but even the mention of one sent her pulse racing. Meditation. She definitely needed some serious meditation. She hadn’t been this jumpy and emotional since she was a kid.
She was a calm human being. Rational. In control.
And one hundred percent in lust with Jeff Steiger.
Besides kissing like a god, the man made her laugh, for crying out loud. How was she supposed to resist that?