Читать книгу The London Deception - Addison Fox - Страница 12

Chapter 3

On the contrary.

The words popped to mind immediately—along with the memory of Rowan Steele clad head to toe in black—but Finn kept them to himself as he took in the twin looks of concern staring at him across the old cherrywood conference table.

Perhaps he’d miscalculated.

He’d originally thought his summons to the Upper East Side brownstone that acted as headquarters for the House of Steele was about sizing him up for the job and deciding if they wanted in.

What he saw brewing was something else entirely.

The question wasn’t if they wanted in on the job. They were simply calculating the odds of whether or not they wanted to hitch their wagon to his.

“I wasn’t implying anything of the sort, Rowan.”

“Yet that’s exactly what you’ve asked of me and are willing to pay our already significant fees several times over should I agree to accompany you.”

“If I determine the cache that’s been discovered is at risk, I’ll do what I need to do to protect it.”

“Even if taking it means you’ll be in violation of the UNESCO Convention?

“Yes.” The vivid blue of her gaze never wavered from his, and he had to admire her gumption. “I have no intention of keeping any of the contents should it come to removal. But I will not see them looted by thieves in the middle of the desert.”

“What makes you qualified to make that decision?”

“I’ll know it should the situation arise.”

Rowan shook her head, but he didn’t miss the faint smile that ghosted her lips. Heat arced between them as he smiled back and enjoyed the slight widening of her lips before she morphed back into skeptical adversary on the other side of the conference room table.

She was even more beautiful than he’d remembered. Although he’d kept tabs on her since that night in London, he had forcefully tamped down on allowing that interest to be anything more than that of a smart businessman who possessed full knowledge of his competition.

Whenever he’d thought of that night—those youthful moments that defined his path for adulthood—he thought of Rowan Steele.

Her presence at the town house had been as shocking as it was unexpected. But it was the young woman who had revealed herself to him that night who had intrigued him, while also ensuring he’d never forgotten her.

He’d sensed pain. A deep-rooted recklessness that drove her actions and which she wasn’t quite able to control.

It was that recklessness—and the corresponding sensation of looking into a mirror where his own actions and choices reflected back at him—that had dogged him throughout his recovery from the gunshot wound he’d sustained that night. Rowan had forced him to acknowledge he was on a path that wasn’t going to ensure a very long life span.

She’d also ensured he had quite a mystery to solve once he’d healed from his injuries. Although he’d begun focusing on his future, he’d made it his business to figure out how a highly skilled young girl had come to be on the Warringtons’ roof.

“Tell me more about the excavation. In your own words.”

Rowan’s question pulled him from his thoughts and he focused on the reason he’d sought her out. “A small tomb was discovered next to Nefertari’s burial site. The cache of objects is believed to depict the great love between Ramesses II and his wife, Nefertari. Several of the jewels already discovered are believed to be her wedding set.”

“Why do you believe it’s been overlooked? Nefertari’s tomb is the best known in the Valley of the Queens. Scholars have been over and around every inch of it.”

He’d turned the problem over and over in his mind and hadn’t yet come to any firm conclusions, but was anxious to discuss them with her. “At the risk of seeming uneducated, I’d consider it a sign of technological advancement combined with a stroke of pure dumb luck.”

Rowan’s smile was back. “I’m not quite sure the team from the British Museum who made the discovery while rephotographing the tomb would appreciate that characterization.”

“You know the team?”

“Well enough. Baxter Monroe has always been a supporter of my work.”

Finn suspected Baxter Monroe was also a supporter of Rowan Steele’s rather delectable ass, but kept his thoughts to himself. “We’ll agree to disagree.”

Kensington took that moment to step in. “Finn, while I have every confidence in my sister, you can’t ignore there’s possible risk.”

“Which my firm is prepared to minimize. In addition to Rowan’s sterling reputation, I have legitimate reason to be on-site because Gallagher International has been selected to authenticate the dig by the Coalition of Antiquities.”

Clearly unconvinced, Kensington pressed again. “So why isn’t your firm fully handling the site?”

“I am personally handling the site, not my staff. I need an expert on this and someone who knows the players in the region. Rowan has that. Her recent history of successfully retrieving various antiquities thefts is impressive. I think her presence will offer a degree of deterrence to those who’d like to see the cache distributed to the highest private bidder.”

“Why don’t you cut to the chase?” Rowan interrupted whatever it was Kensington was about to say next. “You want me to spy on-site and schmooze with my contacts. None of which will do us any good if everything goes sideways.”

Finn felt the deal slipping away, the hard glint in her eyes telegraphing what would no doubt be a refusal, and he puzzled at the strange sense of disappointment sweeping through his bloodstream. He knew from the start this was a difficult request. Knew the tensions between the various political factions involved in the tomb discovery were a hard sell.

So why did the rejection feel personal?

“The deal’s not going to go sideways. But if you want reassurance, why don’t you pay a visit to the Gallagher International offices? I’ll take you through all our research to date. The original reports from the team at the British Museum overlaid with topography of the region, our intel on all of the major crime rings currently involved in antiquities theft and full background on each of the players currently involved in the site.”

“And if I say no?”

“Then you’ll miss out on the opportunity to be on-site for the full excavation inside the tomb, the opportunity to authenticate the jewelry and private items already discovered in the cache along with anything else we find. Oh, and unfettered access to Nefertari’s tomb, which, as you know, isn’t granted to just anyone, nor is it granted all that often.”

A merry little twinkle lit up her eyes, the only real expression of her agreement. “I’m in.”

* * *

Rowan took a small measure of satisfaction at the matched looks of shock on both Finn’s and Kensington’s faces. While she knew the surprise was for vastly different reasons, she was pleased to have knocked both off guard.

Sure, the dangers at the site were real, but so were the dangers on any job she took on. She would go through her normal meticulous preparation in advance, and then it would be up to the situation to fall where it may.

But there was no way in hell she was missing out on that tomb.

“Then it’s settled. Can you be in London in two days?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll see you then. In the meantime, I’ll forward some additional documentation for you to review.”

Kensington maintained her usual small talk, then ushered Finn Gallagher from the conference room, their voices fading down the hall. Rowan heard the vague mention of contracts and an early transfer of funds to pay for her travel but tuned the majority of it out.

She was headed back to Egypt.

And she was headed there with a man who put her back up all the while intriguing her.

Finn Gallagher was a puzzle. The same early behavior that impressed her with his seat selection—a clear indication he held both her and Kensington in equal regard—had continued throughout the meeting. He made his points without apology, yet she got the distinct impression he fully understood what he was asking.

And he scored major points for his very real skepticism of Baxter Monroe.

She’d always hated the museum’s head of Egyptian artifacts and thought the man operated with a pomposity that bordered on ignorance. She also knew for a fact the man had spent little time on the dig site despite his lavish claims to the contrary. The discovery was the result of his poor behavior in the tomb on a random visit that had oddly paid dividends, but rather than acknowledge his team, he was now blithely taking credit for the work of his staff.

Oh yeah, she wanted in.

And when you added in the petty joy that would come from the chance to get on-site and beat the museum to the catalog of the find as well as its overall authentication, she’d be damned if she stayed out of this project.

“I’m not sure if I think you’re terrifyingly brilliant or brilliantly terrifying.” Kensington walked back into the room and crossed toward the credenza on the far wall for more coffee.

“Can’t I be both?”

“I thought you were going to brush him off like lint.”

“Aside from the fact that I don’t think Finn Gallagher brushes easily, there’s no way I’m passing this up.”

“Ro.” Kensington took her seat once more, a sudden seriousness painting her features as her blue gaze turned solemn. “You need to be careful.”

“I will be.”

“Really careful. There are a lot of players in this one with a lot invested in the outcome.”

“I’m invested, too. This is a major discovery.”

“That’s my point.”

Rowan fought to keep the frustration from her voice, opting for what she hoped was a more persuasive tone. “This is the perfect blend of my professional expertise and the types of assignments we take on here. I’d be a fool to pass it up.”

“Please just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I’m always careful.”

“No, you’re not.” That serious expression was back, and much as she wanted to argue with Kenzi, on some level Rowan refused to lie.

She did take risks and she always had.

While she had given up stealing after that night in the Warrington house, she’d never given up the thrill of the hunt. And archaeology had given her an outlet for that.

Great finds.

The potential for danger.

And the deep understanding of how the mind of a thief worked had come in handy on more than one occasion.

Because she knew how to case a place—how to find its weak points and devise a plan to get in and out—she knew how to find the thieves that regularly attacked locations of value.

“I’d say it’s a family trait we all have in spades.”

* * *

Jared Wright reviewed the report from the Valley of the Queens and marveled at the sheer stupidity of his contact at the Cairo Museum. He’d ensured a local was on the job within days of the discovery of a cache of royal jewels, yet it didn’t seem to be helping. The team from the British Museum had the inside track and had managed to get the site locked up tight as a drum.

He needed a way in.

His phone beeped and he glanced down at the screen. The words New Player flashed before the screen faded to black. He did a quick screen swipe and typed in his ten-digit password—you could never be too careful—before accessing the message.

J:

Some old friends are headed to Luxor. Seems the duo on the Victoria Project are back in business together. Talk soon.

M

The news had a ready sense of anticipation flooding his veins as he reread the message.

Although he’d kept tabs on the two kids who’d taken the Queen Victoria bracelet years ago, he’d never done more than keep watch. The boy hadn’t been worth his time and when he’d discovered a few weeks after the heist the kid had had the fortitude to live, he’d given him the benefit of the doubt. They’d never found the bracelet when they searched him and he was too small-time to ultimately be worth his time.

The girl, on the other hand...

It had taken some doing to track her down, but when he finally figured out who she was, he backed off all the way. He was building an empire and it would have done him no good to go up against the Steele family. Especially if he’d garnered the scrutiny and attention of the British government should the girl have gone missing. No, Jared had washed his hands of the entire mess.

Oddly enough, the bracelet had never hit the market and he also suspected that night had been the last heist Rowan Steele had ever tried. None of his surveillance had turned up her involvement in anything further, and when she finally went off to college and then spent several years on archaeology sites, he stopped focusing on her.

His network kept tabs and that was all that was needed.

The fact she was working on the Valley of the Queens project wasn’t all that surprising. The archaeology community was strong, and Rowan was well respected.

But what was she doing reteaming with Gallagher?

Jared turned the puzzle over in his mind as he tapped out a response.

FOLLOW THEM.

He already had a buyer lined up for the results of the tomb; chief among the coveted items was a set of bracelets and a necklace made entirely of lapis lazuli, purported to be Nefertari’s wedding set.

And what a strange coincidence it all was.

Jared shook his head, setting the phone back on the desk as he stood to pace. He’d learned long ago there weren’t any coincidences.

So the real question was, who was playing who?

* * *

Rowan stared out the window of the external elevator as she was whisked the twenty stories up for Gallagher International’s main offices. The London skyline spread out before her and she saw the Gherkin in the distance, the large, egg-shaped building that had become a fixture in the city’s skyline a decade before.

The elevator came to a smooth stop and she stepped out onto plush carpeting. She had to give Finn credit, the selection of office space in London’s most recent architectural accomplishment, the Shard, gave a sense of quiet flash and competent business acumen. And she was thrilled to make her first visit to the impressive building.

Her brother Liam had BASE jumped it while it was under construction and she’d been jealous at the time. Now after actually visiting—and considering the size and shape of the building—she decided she’d leave the truly idiotic yearnings for adventure fully to her oldest sibling.

Finn waved at her from a glass-enclosed office. She watched him work his way from the office, down a short hallway before moving into the reception area to greet her. The wide-open space—the windows on the far side of the building were visible through the glass of Finn’s office—was impressive.

And lent a curious air of trust at the truly open design.

She watched him move, the vague sense she’d felt in the conference room a few days before taking better shape in her mind.

He was an attractive man—powerfully so—and an impressive one, too. His shoulders filled out the Savile Row suit to perfection and she could see the slim taper of his waist where the jacket hung open before he closed it with a dapper twist of a button.

His chiseled jaw, thick sandy brown hair and ready smile gave the vague sense of an impish child even as the fine lines of the suit suggested he wasn’t someone to be toyed with. When she also considered the clear signs of intelligence that sparked in his voice with every comment, Rowan could only admit Finn Gallagher was one impressive package.

She’d have to be stupid not to feel some sense of attraction to the man.

And she was very rarely stupid.

That long-ago night on Bethany Warrington’s roof flew through her mind but she ignored it in favor of focusing on the warm hazel eyes that drew her attention first.

“Rowan. Thank you for coming.”

His large hands enveloped hers before he leaned forward into the customary European kiss on both cheeks. The lightest slide of his beard—the day’s growth just beginning to show—met her lips and she couldn’t deny the rush of attraction that slid down her spine at the masculine scent that surrounded her. A touch of cedar over the fresh scent of the outdoors.

Delicious.

Just like the man himself.

She allowed herself the briefest moment to enjoy the contact by making a full turn around the lobby. “Impressive office space. I wasn’t even aware the building was fully occupied yet.”

“We got in early. I knew what I wanted in terms of space and it’s been everything I’ve hoped it would be.”

She didn’t miss the flash of pride that lit his eyes and couldn’t argue with the sentiment. There was something thrilling about seeing the results of your efforts and hard work.

That thrill had been the most unexpected joy after she’d come back to the land of the living. The transformation had taken time—and a lot of work with a therapist to understand her inner urges to steal—but she’d made a commitment to her grandfather and she wasn’t going to change it.

And she was proud to know she’d come out the other side.

“What’s that smile for?”

She glanced around the office once more before smoothly sharing her more casual thoughts from the elevator ride. “I was just thinking of my brother. I’m pretty sure he BASE jumped here.”

“We both did.”

“You jumped off the building?”

“Yep.”

“Together?”

“No. Despite knowing his reputation, I’ve never met your brother.”

“Why would you do something like that?”

He shrugged but she saw that spark of pride flare up once more. “Because it was here.”

“I suppose that’s as good an answer as any.”

They both lingered for a moment, awareness filling the small space between them. Rowan had changed for the visit, her peasant blouse and jeans traded for a plum-colored power suit that would rival anything in Kensington’s closet, and she was suddenly aware of the tight stricture of her skirt as she fought to keep her breath even.

The moment lingered a few seconds longer before the rich tones of his voice broke the silence. “I’m happy to take you on a tour or we can head on down to the labs.”

The focus on business helped and Rowan clung to that like a lifeline. Her anticipation for the office visit had grown over the past few days as she’d read several reports he’d sent in advance. His facilities were state-of-the-art, some of the equipment so new she’d only read about it. “I’m sure the labs will frame up the majority of my questions. Why don’t we start there?”

He extended a hand toward the hallway he’d come through. “Let’s take the stairs. They’re next to the windows, so you can at least get a view of Tower Bridge and the Tower of London before we go down to the lab.”

“Nothing like a midday view of one of the city’s most notorious spots for executions.” She’d meant it as a joke more than anything else—a moment to break the tension that gripped both of them—but his reaction caught her up short.

Those compelling hazel eyes widened momentarily in surprise before narrowing in thought as they strolled toward the bank of windows. “That’s funny. I usually have a completely different reaction when I look at it.”

“You don’t think of beheaded queens and kidnapped princes?”

He stopped and turned toward her as they stepped up to the outer glass window to look out at the city below. “I realize they’re a part of the Tower’s rich and storied history, but I can’t honestly say that’s the first thing that comes to mind.”

“What does come to mind then?”

The distinct notes of passion and the slightest touch of avarice—like a man viewing his lover’s body for the first time—lit up the depths of his eyes, turning them a rich moss-green. “The Crown Jewels, of course.”