Burning Intensity (8 page)

James grinned.

El slipped her phone into the pocket of her pants and wrapped her arms around his waist. She drew her body flush against his and stood up on her toes. Brushing her lips lightly over his, she teased them both, taunted him with her soft skin. She flicked her tongue out and licked his lips, moistening them.

He opened his mouth to her and she probed inside, loving the taste of him. The kiss slowly deepened between them. Passion heated her blood and a knot of desire grew in her belly. She roamed her hands over his back, lowering until she cupped his arse and pulled his hips into hers. As she ground into his crotch, her breath caught. She was turning herself on as much as him. El rubbed herself along his thickening length.

“You need to make that call,” he said, his voice husky with growing need.

El drew in a deep breath, opened her eyes and caught his gaze. She smiled. “I guess I do,” she agreed. Reluctantly she pulled her phone back out and dialed Rob’s number. He answered after only two rings.

“Stevens.”

“Rob, it’s El. How’s it going?”

“I’m drowning over here, how are you? Is everything all right?”

“It’s perfect.” She couldn’t keep the satisfaction from her voice. There was a pause as her gaze clashed with James’. Lust sparkled in his eyes and for a moment she imagined herself dumping the case, stripping naked, locking the door and performing every imaginable wicked act on and with the sexy man before her.

Rob cleared his throat and she was reminded of his presence.

“Um. I’m calling because I think we should talk to Louise Calloway. She might know something, or if we’re lucky, Luke could have left the Cezanne with her.”

“Neither Chelsea nor David ever reported Calloway contacting his sister,” Rob said, sounding distracted. She heard papers being shuffled and guessed he was sifting through the file, looking for the other agents’ reports.

“I know, but it seems stupid to ignore such an obvious connection. I didn’t want to rush off and leave you in the lurch, though. Do you want to meet us there?”

“Hmm. Will James be going with you?”

El lifted an eyebrow, even though her partner couldn’t see it.

“Yes, why?”

“I think the two of you should pursue that line of inquiry,” Rob said formally.

“Waldron has come close?” she guessed.

“That’s correct. Yes. Hang on… Right, he was just walking past. Look, El, you’ve obviously, erm, kissed and made up. I don’t want to barge in. Waldron has me trying to source rumors about the Cezanne. If you come back here you’ll be snowed under with paperwork. I’m hoping to escape in an hour or so, but for now I think your time is better spent with James. Enjoy being with him. I like seeing you happy, and he’s obviously a big part of that. This might turn into one of those times where splitting us up and one partner covering for the other means we can close the case.”

“Like the Renfield one?” she recalled.

Sometimes—rarely—management found themselves with a sensitive, political, messy case. When such things weren’t neat and straightforward, even the normal amount of freedom and leeway became restricted as pressure came from all sides. In the past, El and Rob had dealt with it by one of them going out and doing the hard work while the other one shuffled papers and kissed up to Waldron, or whoever was pressuring them to wrap the case up in a specific way.

Considering the amount of political fallout the attack on the Gallery and loss of the Cezanne must be generating, El wasn’t surprised that Waldron was riding Rob hard.

“You’ll escape soon, though, right? I don’t want you carrying the weight here. We’re partners. James understands that. If you need a break, or for us to swap over and for me to come in, I’m trusting you to let me know, Rob.”

“Of course. Besides, I’ve been thinking of doing some interviews—stuff Waldron will be okay with. I just need to wrap up our preliminary report here then I’ll be clear. If those interviews fall through, I’ll think of something, anything to get me out there trying to answer these questions. Don’t worry about me, follow your instincts. And warn James to rein you in if you get into any trouble.”

“I never get into trouble,” she protested.

James choked out a laugh and she shot him a heated, sensual look.

Rob chuckled on the other end. “Right. You’re the hot-headed one around here, remember?”

She laughed and had to give him that point, but she’d not bend over that easily.

“If I recall,
you’re
the last one who threw a dozen case files to the floor in a fit of frustration.”

“And it was you who almost got us both on archiving duties for life when you decked that idiot manager… What was his name? Thompson? Johnson?”

“Thomasson,” El agreed. “But that bastard deserved it. Everyone agreed. Eventually.”

They shared a laugh.

“Okay,” El said. “James and I will go talk to Louise. You get out from under that paperwork as quickly as you can manage. I’ll fill you in later.”

“Be safe,” he said.

“You too.”

She hung up then placed her phone back in her jacket pocket.

“Rob’s kissing arse and covering for us. Let’s go squeeze Louise gently and see what we can find.”

“I’ll drive us. Do you have the address?”

El nodded. She watched while James walked around the small room mumbling about his keys, wallet and phone. In a few minutes they were at the door, locking it and heading for his small car.

She felt the normal thrill of the hunt, pleased to be out and doing something and not stuck at her desk shuffling paper like poor Rob was. Better still, she felt lighthearted, pleased in a way she hadn’t been for months. It took her a minute, but she realized that the feeling stemmed from having James there with her.

He unlocked her door and held it open. Instead of climbing in, she cupped his jaw, tugged him down and kissed him thoroughly. They were both breathing heavily when he pulled back, and her eyes had lost focus. She cleared her throat and collected herself, needing a moment to calm her racing heart and blink to bring herself back from the sensual haze he’d taken her into.

“What was that for?” James asked.

“I’m glad you’re here, that we’re doing this together.”

He grinned wickedly at her and grabbed her arse lightly, giving it a teasing squeeze.

“I’ll take payment later. But, being honest, I’m getting a thrill from it. I’ve never played the good guy in this situation. I’ve always been on the other end. It’s interesting to see how this side works.”

El pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Careful you don’t enjoy it too much,” she warned with a laugh. “You might be corrupted and end up joining the side of light after all. Think of how ruined your reputation as an internationally acclaimed thief would be then, if it got out you were assisting our Agency and the forces of good?”

James shuddered in mock horror. “I don’t think I could bear it.”

“I could make it worth your while,” she purred as she stroked his jaw and nipped a few biting kisses along its length. James breathed heavily. She pressed a palm over his chest and felt his heart pounding. He seemed turned on by the thought.

Pleased she’d come out on top of that minor skirmish, El turned and climbed into the passenger seat. It took him a minute to regain control of himself, but James slammed the door and came around to the driver’s seat. As he started the car and they pulled away from the curb she realized the silence between them was charged with a thick, heavy sexual chemistry.

She didn’t mind it in the least.

Chapter Five

“Could you please lower that badge a little? I can’t see it clearly.”

El opened the small leather folder more and lowered it as requested. Louise Calloway’s door had only been opened the slightest crack, and a shadow was the only indication that a person stood there. El tried to decide if Louise was paranoid, or perhaps had gone through this routine enough times to want to follow the very letter of procedural law. It wasn’t common for her to be asked to show her badge, though she was willing to comply. Perhaps Louise had been attacked by someone using this routine, it wasn’t for her to judge.

“I’ve never heard of the Department of Special Research,” Louise said.

“It’s a small branch, ma’am,” El replied. She kept holding the badge and laminated identification card out, though her instinct was to replace it. “I can give you a phone number to call, to verify my badge number, name and department. But we just have a few questions for Louise Calloway regarding her brother. They’re completely standard. You’re not in any trouble, ma’am.”

“I suppose so,” Louise sighed and opened the door. El regarded her.

Only of medium height, maybe five foot five, Louise was reed thin. A somewhat faded house dress of dark green was warmly covered by a thickly knitted blue cardigan. Her brown hair was pulled back tightly into a French braid. Louise looked tired, as if over the years life had beaten her up. She stood up straight, met El’s and James’ eyes as she stepped back and allowed them entrance into her small flat.

El felt that, even though Louise looked as though she’d been hammered by the world, she still had plenty of pride. The woman was not defeated or broken down. That took strength. El respected her for it. Taking a quick look around the room, she saw that Louise didn’t outwardly appear to live above her means. The living room was small. Two couches sat at right angles to create a small sub-section with a TV and stereo system. A comfortable-looking chair sat beside the window with a large lamp in what appeared to be the perfect reading, knitting or stitching corner.

The room was warm, lived in, but showed few personal effects. El got the feeling that Louise liked her privacy and was not one to share. This instinct was backed up by the fact that the woman didn’t chatter nervously. Louise met El’s eyes and the three of them remained standing in the room.

“You can’t look around,” Louise stated. “Unless you have a warrant, which you should have already shown me. I know my rights. You said this was about Luke, what’s happened?”

“Ma’am, your brother was involved with the incident that occurred at the National Gallery. Please understand we’re trying to keep the worst of these details out of the media—I’d appreciate it if you don’t pass on what we’re about to discuss. Your brother and some of his team members have been involved in the attack on the Gallery and stolen a painting. Do you know anything about this?”

Louise shook her head, her lips thinning in a pinched manner. Her mouth became drawn into an unhappy frown. El saw the moment the woman hit upon the notion to deny it. Her eyes lightened somewhat and a few of the wrinkles on her brow eased. El thought it was very telling that Louise’s first, gut instinct was to believe her brother capable of it. Innocent people usually denied first and only came around after.

“That’s not Luke’s style,” Louise insisted. “From what I’ve heard on the news, they suspect terrorists. There were rocket launchers and a coordinated attack. I’ve seen footage of the Gallery, it’s a shambles. They’re saying it will take millions of pounds to reconstruct the outer façade alone.”

“And that isn’t your brother’s style?” El questioned.

Louise shook her head impatiently. “My brother has been a part of his fair share of destruction, Officer. But it’s a rare occurrence his plans reach the news, and international coverage at that. He’s too smart and subtle for that level of mess. Coverage means attention, and in his business that sort of notice isn’t needed. Word of mouth, gossip, rumors, those are what he aims for. He needs people to talk about his work, for the knowledge to spread, but having groups of outraged citizens baying for his blood, to have rich, powerful people want to destroy him, is way out of his range.”

El nodded and cast a quick glance to James. When she and Rob interviewed people, they often had a smooth, easy rhythm going. He caught her look and seemed to understand that she felt it was time for him to add to the conversation. Only she would have recognized the fleeting glance of worry that crossed his face. James promptly covered it, smoothed his features so he once again looked like a sober, serious professional.

“Uh, that fits the same sort of thing we thought,” he said a little awkwardly.

Louise turned to face him for the first time.

James held up well under her intelligent glare. El noticed that he even managed to appear sympathetic. She had to hide her smile. He was playing good cop, she decided.

“You see, Miss Calloway, the risks for your brother and his team were quite high. This was a complicated, intricate project they’d undertaken. There must have been a powerful reason behind your brother wanting to do this. Can you think of why he could have been driven to this? Did he hold a grudge against the Gallery? Or was he obsessed with any particular painting? Or artist? Any information you can give to us would be helpful, please.”

A part of her wondered if he’d ever considered working for the Agency. James looked sincere in his desire for illumination. El bet with seasoning and practice, James could coax bloody secrets out of a stone maiden. The fact that he was charming, sexy and flat out gorgeous didn’t hurt either. What better way to seduce women out of their knickers than for a handsome rogue to offer them sympathy and understanding?

Louise’s body language softened to James. Obviously the woman was not immune to his charms, either.

“I’ve not been close with my brother since we were children,” she said. “I’m fairly sure when we were small we had the usual school visit to the Gallery. He probably went there once, maybe twice in our youth. I also am not going to lie about the fact he loves artwork, pretty and expensive things. But it’s the money, the power and prestige that comes with these things he enjoys. The artworks themselves are just objects to him. Wealth, power and standing—those are the idols my brother craves.”

“He’s never mentioned specific paintings to you? Pieces of art? Or even favorite artists? Monet, Degas, Cezanne, Renoir?” James pressed lightly.

El remained silent and eased very slowly a half step back, giving her lover the floor. Pride welled in her for his skill and the fast way he read Louise’s character and used this knowledge.