A Most Dangerous Profession(4)
“But I did escape, so there’s nothing more to be said about it.” Yet she thought about it frequently—especially the way Robert had coldly turned her over to the authorities, as if he hadn’t cared for her one iota.
She reached down for the small velvet-lined box that sat on the table. “Would you like to examine some of the items? These coins are quite rare. They’re Athenian.”
“And fake.”
“One of them.” She picked up the one in question. “It’s an ancient fake, just as old as the original, which gives it value on its own.” She caught the flicker of interest on his face.
“Rare, indeed. Not unheard of, but very unusual.”
She held out the coin in the palm of her hand. “The condition is astounding.”
He sauntered forward, produced a monocle, and regarded the coin.
He was so close, the scent of his soap tickled her nose. Like him, it was sophisticated, masculine, and elusive. The fragrance sent her memory tumbling back to a time when she’d held those broad shoulders, straddled his powerful thighs, and lowered herself onto—
“Fascinating.” His deep voice sent a shiver straight through her. He turned his head so that his gaze was level with hers. “How much is the opening bid?”
Her fingers closed over the coin, aware that her nipples had betrayed her, beaded in anticipation. How can he still affect me like this? It’s been years. This won’t do at all.
She turned and replaced the coin, then stepped to one side to put some space between them. “If you wish to bid on it, you should begin low. Most collectors won’t recognize the value of a fake that is this old.”
“Trust me, I know the value of a good fake,” he returned drily. “Better than most.”
Her cheeks heated, and she forced herself to look away from his eyes. Her gaze took in his French cuffs, and the immaculate stitching of his coat. Many men used corsets to fit into their clothing, but Robert was blessed with an athletic body that didn’t require such measures. She knew that body far, far too well.
She smoothed the black velvet about the coins and said lightly, “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in saving us both time and just tell me what it is that you want from me?”
His jaw hardened. “You know exactly what I want.”
“No, I don’t,” she returned, more sharply than she wished.
“It has to do with the onyx box.” Robert’s large hand, adorned with an ornate emerald ring, cupped the head of the cane as if he were ready to wield it. Though he carried himself with an air of ennui, his hands gave him away. They were strong, purposeful, and lightly calloused from all of the writing and riding that he did.
“I don’t have your onyx box anymore, which you well know. Your brother William took it from me the last time we met. Why do you ask about the box?”
Robert’s mouth thinned with anger. “There is more than one box and you know it. Why are you assisting that reprobate George Aniston?”
Her stomach tightened in a sick knot, yet she said smoothly, “I don’t know a George Aniston.”
“You know him.” Robert moved so quickly that she didn’t have time to whisk herself out of the way, his warm hand closing over her wrist as he towered over her, his eyes blazing into hers. “Don’t play your games with me. You knew I and my family needed that onyx box to win my brother Michael’s release, yet you still took it. And you did so at the behest of George Aniston. I can only be grateful that my brother and I managed to wrest it from you.”
Which had been a bitter loss, too. She managed a cool shrug. “You have the box, so there can be no issue now.”
“That would be true, if there were only one such box.”
She tried to insert a bored tone into her voice. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, but you do. For now I find you here, where rumors have it that another onyx box–an almost exact replica of the other–might be for sale. My dear, that cannot be a coincidence.”
“Do you see such a box among the items? For I do not.”
His brows lowered. “No, but it was rumored it would be here. And we both know it. Now, tell me why you are assisting George Aniston in this quest. I will have the truth.”
She curled her fingers into the palms of her hands to hide their dampness. “My association with George Aniston is none of your concern.”
“Oh, but it is, for he and I pursue the same object. I already have two of the onyx boxes. Now I want the same thing he does; the same thing you’ve chased here—the third and final one.”