Burning Intensity (3 page)

Neither of them needed to speak of it. Spying was their bread and butter, a day-to-day occurrence. A low level of paranoia was imperative to both of their survival, so being circumspect about the stuff that really mattered was an ingrained habit. They were both pleased for Chelsea and David’s happiness. Nothing needed to be said.

“At least we’re not called in because of their injuries,” Rob said, leading them back on topic.

“It makes a nice change,” El agreed. “And I must admit to being curious as to what can be found within the Cezanne. Many people seem to have gone to great lengths to acquire it.”

“Solving that puzzle isn’t our current task,” Rob chided her. “We’re supposed to find the damn thing.”

“First,” El added as she raised an eyebrow.

Rob looked blankly at her.

“We’re supposed to uncover the painting first. There’s no reason we can’t discover its secrets after that. We are supposed to be these brilliant problem solvers, after all. The fix-it partnership of our division.”

“Management only wants us to find the artwork, wrap the project up into a neat little package and write an extensive report,” Rob insisted.

El laughed. She could see very well that Rob, ever the analytical thinker, was searching for a way to toe the line but still have the answers she now knew they both sought.

For once, her colleague seemed almost as eager as she to delve into the intricacies of more than just answering the standard questions. It wasn’t often that Rob’s curiosity was piqued, but then he had a great appreciation for all manner of artwork. An impish delight flashed through her.

“You know who would be really helpful here?” She paused only a moment to be certain she had Robert’s attention. With a grin, she continued before he could think of a response.

“Sally,” she answered herself. “Think about it, mate. She’s an artist, is already a known part of the art world. Sally has her delicate fingers in many pies and hears a lot of the stranger rumors and stories out there on all manner of artistic pieces and people. Maybe she knows something about this painting of Cezanne’s.”

El watched her colleague very closely as she spoke. At first his warm brown eyes lit with a thrill of anticipation. But then she could almost see him rein himself in, talk himself out of the strongly emotional response and into a more logical, analytical one. She had to resist thumping him over the head. The intensity of his desire for his oldest friend clearly burned through him, and yet he still resisted. El didn’t really understand why.

Rob and Sally had known each other practically their whole lives. It was clear as crystal to her they adored one another. Yet for some reason—one she’d never felt confident enough to pry into—they remained just friends. This seemed and felt to El, instinctively, like the perfect opportunity to try to throw the two of them together.

“I really don’t think—” Rob started as he straightened his spine, sitting up and looking uncomfortable.

El sighed with exasperation. She loved Rob, she truly did, but damn, he could over-think everything to death.

“She’s been your friend forever. You trust her. You…care for her. If you can’t turn to a friend like that when you need her help, who can you turn to? I bet Sally would love to hear from you. I’ve heard with my own ears you both promising to catch up more often, and then you get all distracted.”

In truth she found Sally and Rob to be very similar at heart. They were both slightly odd, but gentle and with identical, kind souls. Robert certainly had harder edges, but inside he was soft as a teddy bear. Sally could be a little overly eccentric at times, and heaven knew she didn’t over-think to the extent that Rob did. But, like him, she also had a giant heart and gentle way about her.

They were perfect for one another, if only she could open their eyes to it.

“If you must know,” Rob said with only the faintest hint of exasperation directed her way, “I spoke to Sal only a few days ago. She’s busy right now. She’s finishing up a few more pieces for her new showing at another small gallery. She’s thrilled, really excited about this opportunity, and I’m not going to ruin it for her by dragging her into the murky mayhem of my world.”

El scooted her chair closer to her desk. She leaned her elbows on the smooth wood and tried to marshal her thoughts. She’d need a clear-cut argument, something that he couldn’t out-think or out-argue. Before she could say a word or start to plan on the fly, Rob raised his index finger to silence her and continued.

“We need to tap into a fence,” he insisted.

El frowned, wondering what the hell a fence had to do with setting Sally and Robert up, but then she realized he was dragging them both—however unwillingly—back to the job.

“Certainly we need to speak to someone who knows the art world, but it needn’t be an artist per se. We need someone connected, but also with their ear to the ground about all the shadier dealings. The underground markets, who will hear the whispers of ‘Can you find me a—’? and ‘Wouldn’t it be lovely to purchase a—’? style conversations. A contact who knows all the current information about all the pieces going around.”

El pressed her lips together and tried to think. She stubbornly clung to the desire to push Rob and Sally together.

“But Sally can—”

“You are the most tenacious woman alive, El,” Rob replied with clear exasperation. He continued, his tone firmly insisting she fall into line. “We need someone trustworthy and reliable, but still shady. A person who can show an innocent face but still think deviously and bend the rules when we need. Someone whom both sides of the law can turn to and trust. A fence…or a thief.”

“Sounds like an impossible person,” El admitted, caught somewhere between wishful thinking and a hesitation she couldn’t explain. “Now add on that they don’t have the arrogance of a prince or the ego of a true diva and you might have found the perfect contact. Where do we find this paragon of a person? I can think of a few women who might fit a section or two of that enormous list, but—”

“Oh, no, I know just the man,” Rob insisted, a smug smile on his face.

El tilted her head, still feeling a step behind her partner. She waved her hand in a ‘come on’ kind of motion, urging him to spill the secret name.

“Easy. We need James Waters.”

El’s jaw dropped and her cheeks flushed. Rob had to be paying her back for her pressing him about Sally earlier. She and James had a…complicated history between them. He was a thief and a scoundrel and, and… Well, it was complicated.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she finally stammered.

Rob shook his head. His tone was completely serious, his dark gaze steady. “He’s perfect.”

“He’s…” The words died on her tongue. El closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath and prayed for strength. She’d seen that spark in her partner’s eyes before. Rob had earlier called her tenacious. She was a novice compared to him when it came to stubbornness. “I want to veto,” she insisted.

“I didn’t veto Sally,” Rob replied, his tone deceptively mild. “As I explained, she’s busy with her own work and can’t help right now. That’s not the same as a veto for no real reason.”

El groaned again, knowing already that she was going to lose. Rob had given a perfectly truthful, and logical, explanation as to why they couldn’t ask Sally for assistance. El and Rob had a strict rule of only being able to veto an idea or suggestion if the other already had—to keep things balanced between them. The only other way she could veto was if her argument convinced Rob to let it go. Her heart pounding, cheeks flushed and her mind racing, El wasn’t at her cool, logical best. That knowledge didn’t deter her.

“But this is James.”

“Exactly. He’s the best suited to the task.”

“But this is James.”

“That’s not a solid enough argument to win a veto from me. Are you even trying?”

El took another breath and tried to think of a smart, snappy answer. Her mind remained frozen, blank.

“But this is James.” She slumped her shoulders, knowing she’d lost.

Chapter Two

“Surely someone else owes us a favor or three,” El spoke for the first time since they’d left the office.

For the most part the silence between them had been comfortable. Both she and Rob were well used to their own thoughts, the need for a constant flow of nervous or uneasy chatter long gone. Rob had found a park for their car a few short streets away from James’ flat. They walked the rest of the distance together, their paces evenly matched and now so natural it was routine for them.

“I notice you didn’t call ahead,” El pressed Rob. “James isn’t expecting us yet. Surely we can call in a few markers? Or even cold canvass some of the experts at the National Gallery. I bet—”

“I’m certain it hasn’t slipped your mind that the National Gallery is only a step up from smoldering rubble right now,” Rob replied.

“The building still stands,” she insisted stubbornly.

“Barely. Are you really going to press this point?” Rob halted and they faced each other.

El had to tilt her head up, but she pressed her hands to her hips, her head tossed back, more than willing to stand behind her point…if only she could admit the full depth of it.

Evidently seeing her determination, Rob sighed. His shoulders eased down and the moment of possibly genuinely arguing passed.

“No one is as good as Jimmy,” Rob said. “You know it and I know it. I know you’re not seeing one another right now—but we all got together, what? Six months ago? The two of you were very…cozy together. If he hurt you, or if something truly bad had occurred you’d have told me. I know that. But if you really, truly don’t wish this we can try another way. But we both know he’s our best chance.”

El pressed her lips together, torn and not certain what to say to that. There was so much truth to Rob’s words, but she couldn’t just capitulate.

“You know how good he is,” Rob insisted.

“He’s a risk taker,” she replied.

“He takes calculated risks, that’s a very different thing,” Rob said.

“Okay then, he’s dangerous.”

Her words baffled Rob, she could tell by the blank, surprised look on his face.

“Really? What? How do you mean?”

Rob’s gaze sharpened on her and for a moment she worried he could see clear through to her soul. They knew each other so well, but still there were pockets neither ever let the other into—private sections they both respected and steered clear of.

“I’ve never seen that from him,” Rob said gently, clearly caught between caution and curiosity. “Or not genuine dangerousness. He’s always struck me as a fellow who goes to great lengths to protect himself—and us, if you recall. Do enlighten me on how, exactly, you find him dangerous, El.”

El felt for a moment as if a careful trap had surrounded her. Her words had been instinctive, she hadn’t meant to consciously speak them. Of course she’d meant that James was dangerous to her, her heart, her sanity. Rob seemed to have guessed this now, and El wasn’t sure how to get herself extracted from it. She knew she could come to rely on James Waters far, far too much. He could be everything to her, hold her body and soul. But damned if she’d admit that, not to herself and not to Rob, either.

“Oh, fine, he’s not dangerous in the least,” she grumbled.

Rob tilted his mouth into a small, knowing grin. El continued down the road to James’ flat. After a few paces, she heard the clomp of Rob’s boots following her, catching up in a couple of strides.

For a minute she waited, her breath held. Part of her desperately hoped Rob wouldn’t question her further. Her friend and partner all too often saw far too much, the intelligent, analytical side of his brain putting random pieces of the puzzle together with stunning clarity.

Thankfully, he appeared focused on his own musings. El heaved a sigh of relief. That conversation would come back, she knew. But later was always preferable to sooner, to her mind. She looked up as they came to the front gate of James’ flat. Rob had been right—as usual—it had been nigh on six months since she’d been here. No way would she have guessed she’d be back so soon, nor under such strange circumstances, but life was often a bitch like that.

Taking in a careful breath, El led the way up the short path and rapped on the door. It was still morning, well before lunch, but the stillness emanating from inside the flat had hope sparking in El’s chest. Maybe James had gone out somewhere, or, better yet, moved.

She tilted her face up, a smile on her lips as she was about to speak to Rob, when she heard movement come from inside.

So much for that hope
, she sighed.

Turning back to face the door, not bothering to say anything since Rob almost certainly knew the gist of what she’d been about to say, El tried to settle her pounding heart.

“Coming,” James’ voice sounded muffled from behind the door.

She was about to reply that there was no rush—even a few seconds gave her more time to get her wayward emotions under control—El’s attention was caught by Rob. His large body flexed as he tilted to the side, peered farther down the road.

“Oh look,” he commented placidly, his tone idle, “that’s interesting. I’m just going to go over here. No, no, you stay here, El. Talk to James.”

With a far too innocent, vague expression on his face, Rob turned and walked back to the footpath and ambled down the road. His hands were thrust into the pockets of his slacks, his pace an easy, relaxed stroll. Not even in her wildest dreams could El have convinced herself there was something wrong, or a need for her to race into action.

Rob, she knew without a doubt, hadn’t found anything ‘interesting’—or not unless you counted her partner wanting to give her privacy to talk with James. Rob was giving them space. El didn’t know whether she wanted to shoot her partner in the kneecap, or thank him for his perception and delicacy.

The loud click of the door being unbolted captured her attention. El still hadn’t fully prepared herself, but it was too late now. James stood before her.

He had the flushed, rumpled appearance of the recently roused. If his hair had been longer, it would have been tousled, but she noticed that he’d kept it short. Warm blue eyes were still languid and sleepy, his jaw and chin stubbled with dark blond hair. El’s breath caught as her gaze lowered. James’ broad, well-muscled chest was naked, his skin smooth, and she knew it would be warm to her touch.