Forbidden

3

PAIGE OPENED HER EYES, blinked, then groaned and squinted at the slivers of sunshine filtering through the shutters covering her window. Stretching the kinks from her body, she rolled over to face the other side of the bed, expecting to find Josh sleeping beside her.

She was alone.

Raising herself on her forearm, she pushed her tangled hair from her face and glanced around the room, listening carefully for any signs of life beyond her closed bedroom door. The house was still and quiet, and everything outside was calm, making her wonder if the storm and Josh’s visit last night had all been a dream. A dream that had begun with devastating news surrounding Anthony’s death, and had ended with an incredibly erotic night of making love to Josh.

Still hovering between the lassitude of sleep and full wakefulness, she slid out of bed and headed to the bathroom, certain the whole episode had been some kind of bizarre illusion.

But it had seemed so real…

Switching on the light, she caught sight of her reflection in the large mirror over the dual-sink vanity. She was naked. That revelation was enough to cause a stirring of alarm, considering she never slept in the nude.

Bits and pieces flooded her mind, solidifying facts and wiping away any last remnants of slumber. Last night hadn’t been a figment of her imagination. The proof mocked her-in the form of red patches on her skin caused by the light stubble that had been on Josh’s jaw. She was marked everywhere! Branded by whisker bums!

She touched the abrasion on her neck; it was warm to the touch and a little sensitive. Her fingers fluttered lower, to the chafed skin on her breasts. Vivid memories leapt to life, of Josh rubbing his cheek gently against the plump flesh before flicking his tongue over her nipple. And then there were the pink scratches on her flat belly, and more evidence of whisker burn between her thighs. She lightly touched those scrapes, remembering how the raspy sensation had aroused her as much as his mouth and hands had, and recalling her shameless response to the wicked things he’d done to her.

A shudder rippled through her, and a low groan caught in her throat. She closed her eyes as much to shut out the arousing memories assaulting her senses, as to block out how rumpled and wanton she looked.

But she couldn’t forget.

Another vision intruded, the image wispy and fleeting, like a dream. Only it hadn’t been a dream, but reality in its purest sense. She’d slowly woken in the middle of the night, feeling lethargic but very aware of a large hand fondling her breasts and the press of an erection nestled against her bottom.

She recalled thinking she wanted him. Again. With the same desperation as the first time. But he’d gently eased her onto her belly, followed her with the length of his body, and whispered in her ear that this time they were going to take it slow and easy.

He’d made love to her lazily, their bodies so in sync, it was hard to believe they’d been lovers for just one night His lips pressed damp kisses on her neck, his tongue traced the shell of her ear. When he’d murmured so sexily, “Come for me,” she’d unraveled and had done just that. He was with her all the way, taking them up that crest at a leisurely pace that drew out the pleasurable sensations shimmering between them.

Paige opened her eyes and stared at her horrified expression. She pressed her palms to her flushed cheeks. Oh, Lord, what had they done? What had she done? In a moment of weakness she’d sought comfort in Josh’s arms, had bared herself emotionally and physically. His healing touch had been like a balm to her battered and bruised heart. He’d made love to her as if she were the only woman left on earth, had settled for no less than her full surrender.

In return, she’d given him her body, her heart, and the part of her soul that had been lost for so long. She’d always cared for Josh, possibly even loved him on some level beyond friendship. Last night had been a culmination of those feelings. She’d needed him as much as he’d needed her-needed to feel something other than the pain of Anthony’s deception. Making love with Josh had wiped out the horrible truth about her husband for a few hours. With Josh, she’d felt more alive and desirable than she had in the past three years.

But it couldn’t, and wouldn’t, happen again. No matter what had transpired between them last night, no matter that Josh had claimed a part of her Anthony never had, involving herself with Josh beyond a platonic friendship was pure madness. Sheer stupidity. It had taken her three months to make difficult decisions about her future and decide what she wanted to do now that she had nothing substantial left to keep her ied to Miami. Especially when her entire family lived n Connecticut. The last thing she needed was her bloscoming feelings for Josh to get in the way of her plans-plans she intended to expedite as a result of last night’s encounter.

Ignoring the ache in her chest, she made a mental note to call her realtor and broker first thing Monday morning and begin the sale proceedings on the house and the Wild Rose. Then she rummaged a clip from the vanity drawer, secured her hair on top of her head, and stepped into the spacious tiled shower.

Fifteen minutes later she exited the bathroom, feeling nore refreshed and awake, and determined not to alow the most emotionally fulfilling night of her life to interfere with her friendship with Josh.

She combed her hair and left it down, brushed her teeth, and put on a light application of makeup. Keeping in mind the various abrasions on her body, she opted for a hunter-green turtleneck and cream-colored slacks. Slipping on a pair of leather flats, she exited the bedroom, certain Josh was still there, considering she’d interrupted him before he could finish telling her about Anthony, and the case he’d been working on.

The living room was straightened, their coffee cups gone, the ashes in the grate completely cooled. The eat, folded pile of clothes and underthings she’d shed for Josh was the only evidence of what had transpired last night.

The sliding glass door leading to the deck was open, and through the screen she saw Josh leaning against the railing, staring out at the blue ocean, his long fingers wrapped around a coffee mug with curls of steam drifting from the rim. He was dressed in the clothes he’d worn yesterday, his shoulder holster back in place, his Beretta tucked securely inside. His posture was decep tively relaxed, but she knew at any given moment those lean muscles of his could spring into action-in less than two seconds he could have his gun out of the hol ster and drawn. He was trained to protect and serve and shoot to kill if the situation warranted it

Then he turned, as if sensing she stood there, and she had no choice but to open the screen door and step out onto the deck. She had no intention of avoiding him, on their morning-after conversation. The sooner they hashed things out, the better.

But she hadn’t counted on him looking at her with such tenderness. Never would have expected the sensual, possessive smile that curved his mouth. Couldn’t have anticipated that his smoldering brown eyes would touch her as intimately as his hands and mouth had last night.

She damned her traitorous body for responding to him after her stern lecture to herself in the bathroom.

“Good morning,” he said, bringing his coffee mug to his lips, watching her over the rim while he look a drink.

Even his voice was richer, she thought. Sexier than she could ever remember. It was a bad sign that she noticed. Real bad.

“Good morning,” she replied easily. Coming up be side where he stood by the white wooden railing encasing the deck, she stared out at the expanse of sane stretching toward the beach, still damp from the previous night’s rain. The bright sun shimmered off the calm ocean, and a cool breeze lifted her hair away from he face.

She filled her lungs with a breath of clean, sea air “Judging by the beautiful weather today, you’d never guess that there was such a ferocious storm last night.”

“That’s typical Miami weather for you.”

“Yeah, I suppose it is.” Like strangers, they were reduced to talking about the weather. Inane conversation when there were so many personal issues to address. She’d never had a problem talking to Josh before. Their ability to communicate freely was one of the things she’d loved best about their friendship. She hated to think that last night might have put a crimp in that aspect of their relationship.

An awkward silence stretched between them, until she wanted to scream in frustration. She could feel his gaze on her, knew he was watching her, and finally gathered the fortitude to look at him and be done with it.

Up close and personal she noticed he looked different. Then the change registered-no dark stubble this morning. “You shaved,” she said, the words escaping before she could stop them.

He ran a palm over his smooth cheek, a grin creasing his mouth. “Yeah. I used your razor. And your toothbrush. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” Considering the sensual things they’d done to one another during the course of the night, she wasn’t about to balk at that simple intimacy.

Catching sight of a light, purplish-blue discoloration on his jaw, she felt a wave of remorse wash over her. Without thinking, she reached out and lightly touched the tender spot. “You’re bruised.” Her voice was as soft as her gently probing fingers.

Awareness stirred in the depth of his gaze, darkening with the warmth of desire. For her. “You’ve got quite a left hook.”

Her pulse quickened, a feminine warning she heeded. Abruptly, she pulled her hand back. Lord, she couldn’t even touch him anymore, not even in casual concern, without sparks igniting between them. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for touching me,” he said, deliber- ately misconstruing her apology. “I like the way your hands feel on me.”

His blatant admission caused a frisson of heat within her. The rogue wasn’t going to make this easy on her “Josh, about last night-”

“Do you regret what happened?” he interrupted.

“No, I don’t.” She couldn’t lie. She’d needed him in ways she couldn’t explain. A part of her still did, but she didn’t take the time to analyze those feelings. “But it happened for all the wrong reasons.”

He set his empty coffee mug on the round glass table then pinned her with a direct look. “I’d like to think i happened for a few right reasons.”

Like the need they had for each other. She pushed that thought aside and focused on the future, which didn’t include giving her heart to another man who risked his life on a daily basis. “Josh, please don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what?” Determination and an edge of anger flared in his eyes, turning them a rich shade of gold “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, or feel guilty about We’re both consenting adults, and we didn’t hurt anyone by making love.”

His approach was about as subtle as a battering ram “No, I won’t argue with that.”

Her ambiguous agreement seemed to annoy him even more, as if he’d been expecting, wanted even, a debate. His mouth stretched into a tight line and his brows creased. “Are you on any kind of birth control?”

“Birth control?” she echoed, momentarily startled by his very personal question.

“Yeah, birth control.” His hands came to rest on his lean hips, and his gaze locked on hers. “We didn’t use any protection last night, Paige.”

Her stomach took a dive, and she pressed a hand to her belly before she could consider what she was doing, and how her actions might look to Josh. “Uh, no, I’m not on any kind of birth control.” She’d gone off the Pill when Anthony had died. The possibility of getting pregnant had been the furthest thing from her mind when she’d asked Josh to make love to her. “But I should be fine. My period is due to start soon.”

Her verbal reassurance didn’t alleviate the concern glinting in his eyes. “Will you let me know if you’re pregnant?”

The image of herself round with Josh’s child flashed in her mind, and her heart skipped a beat. She wanted children so very badly, had always dreamed of having a large family one day. But the emotional complication of having Josh’s baby wasn’t something she wanted to contemplate. Being pregnant would irrevocably change her life, force her to make choices and decisions she hadn’t figured into the equation of her immediate future.

So she opted for more positive thoughts on the matter. “I’ll let you know when I start my period.” Desperately wanting a diversion from that intimate topic, she broached a more unpleasant issue she knew Josh would eventually address even if she didn’t. “Last night you said there was more I needed to know about Anthony and the case he was working on.”

It was his turn to shift mental gears. Grim resolve gradually replaced the firm possessiveness that had tightened his features. “Yeah, there’s more.”

She brushed back strands of hair fluttering across her cheek from the cool breeze. “I’m not going to like what I hear, am I?”

Slowly, he shook his head. “Probably not.”

She appreciated his honesty as much as she dreaded what lay ahead. “Then just give it to me straight. Nc beating around the bush and no sugarcoating.”

“Okay,” he said very carefully, giving her the impression he was preparing her for the worst. “Your life is at risk.”

She frowned, certain she’d misunderstood him. “Excuse me?”

“I said, your life is at risk.” His words were succinct, leaving no doubt in her mind that she’d heard him correctly the first time. “Since Anthony denied having the Ivanov necklace I told you about, and apparently he didn’t have it on him when he was killed, we’ve been informed by the other undercover officers that Carranza suspects you have the necklace or might know of its whereabouts.”

“That’s ludicrous!” Her voice was loud enough to send a nearby flock of seagulls into flight, their indignant squawks echoing along the shore. “I don’t know where the necklace is!”

“I believe you, but Carranza may not.” He stepped toward her and gently placed his hands on her shoulders. “They’ve searched all of Anthony’s personal be longings and turned up nothing. It’s only logical thai Carranza would have you checked out next.”

“Of course.” Acid burned in her empty stomach, and she swallowed to keep it from rising into her throat. “This Carranza person knew Anthony was married?”

“It wasn’t a secret that Anthony was married. Carranza could learn that information easily enough. Since Anthony was having an affair, word spread that you were just a pampered wife and that you and Anthony pretty much lived your own private lives.”

The bitterness finally escaped her in the form of broken laughter. It hurt, dammit, to think what a farce her marriage to Anthony had always been. To realize that Josh’s words held so much truth.

She moved away, and he let her go. Realizing just how wobbly her legs were, she slid into a chair next to the table. Letting out a deep breath, she looked to Josh for guidance. “Now what am I supposed to do?”

“Right now, our undercover officers are reportedly having you checked out.” Leaning his hip against the railing, he crossed his arms over his wide chest, looking every inch the tough, uncompromising detective he was. “As soon as they find some kind of evidence that you know something about the Ivanov necklace or its whereabouts, they’re to let Carranza know.”

“I told you,” she said through gritted teeth. “I don’t know anything about that necklace!”

Her snappish tone didn’t faze him. “I know you don’t, but the department has a strategy in mind, and it would be to our advantage to find the necklace. And we need your full cooperation to make the setup work.”

She gave him a tight, angry smile. “Do I have a choice in the matter?”

“Not since you’ve become Carranza’s main target. Lieutenant Reynolds and I agree that you need aroundthe-clock protection, but we can’t risk planting a bunch of men around the house, or being obvious in our sur- veillance.”

The ominous scenario his words projected caused a shiver of apprehension to skip down her spine. “The house has a security system.” Remembering that she hadn’t been using it when she’d opened the door to Josh last night, she added, “I’ll make sure I have the alarm on whenever I’m home.”

“That won’t protect you once you leave the house And we don’t know where, when, or how Carranza will approach you.”

Her skin crawled at the thought of this stranger, on any of his men, stalking her for something she didn’t even have. “So what are you suggesting?”

He settled into the chair next to hers and braced his forearms on his knees. Guarded was the only term thai could describe his expression. “Word is being sprea that Anthony’s widow has a live-in lover.”

She gaped in disbelief. “What?” This ridiculous plar was going too far!

“Paige,” he said, his patient tone cajoling her to be reasonable. “It’s the only believable way for me to stay here and protect you until we bust Carranza.”

Her mind registered the word me, as in Josh. Shod gave way to incredulity. “You’re posing as my lover?”

“Yes.” There was nothing in his serious expression to indicate that posing as her lover would be anything more than a job to him. A way to protect her, as he’d stated, despite that they had been lovers. “The under cover officers on this case have already filtered information about me to Carranza, which includes a false last name of Bennett, which you need to remember Right now, I’m unemployed and living with you.”

Her mind reeled with all the information he was loading onto her, and she fought to deny it. “This is crazy!”

“It’ll only be for a few weeks. A month, tops.” He reached for her hand and tucked it between both of his, making her realize how cold and clammy her palm was next to his warm, dry one. “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you. So you can expect that I’ll be by your side whenever possible.”

“Even at work?” Surely he wasn’t going to shadow her steps every hour of the day?

“Your life will resume as normal-”

“You call this normal?” she asked, unable to tamp down the horrible hysteria clawing its way to the surface. “Go to hell, Josh!” Standing, she jerked her hand out of his grasp and started for the deck stairs leading to the beach.

He was lithe and agile, moving out of his own chair and blocking her path before she could bolt. “I call this saving your life,” he said, his tone low and ruthless enough to make her realize there would be no escaping him, or this awful situation, until it was officially over. “We’ll be planting an undercover officer at your boutique, so you’ll be protected while you’re working. You’ll never be alone, Paige, even when you think you are. There will always be someone watching over you, and for the most part, that will be me.”

Her chin lifted defiantly. “And what if I tell you I don’t want any part of this operation? That I refuse to cooperate?”

Something harsh and dangerous glittered in his eyes. “Then you could end up just like Anthony.”

If there had been anything in her stomach at the moment, she was certain it would have ended up on Josh’s loafers. Her entire body flashed hot, then cold. Little black dots danced in front of her eyes, and her vision began to blur. She knew she was going to faint, and she also knew there was nothing she could do about it.

Her knees buckled, and she heard a distant curse, then felt two hands wrap around her arms and guide her back until her knees hit something solid and she collapsed into a chair. A large hand cupped her neck and pushed her head down until it was between her knees.

“Breathe, Paige,” he commanded.

She did, drawing much-needed oxygen into her lungs until the wave of dizziness and nausea passed. When she finally felt stable again, she lifted her head and found Josh kneeling in front of her.

Swallowing to ease the dryness in her throat, she managed a smile. “I did say no sugarcoating, didn’t I?”

He laughed, the sound rough. “Yeah, you did.” With a tenderness that made her heart catch, he smoothed her hair away from her face, then dragged his thumb along her cheek. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry Anthony left you in this mess. But it’s too late to back out now, not with Carranza determined to find that necklace. It’s essential to the case, and your own life, that the department has your full cooperation. That I have your full cooperation. You understand that, don’t you?”

She understood that she’d be living with Josh for weeks and doing her best to avoid him and the memories of their one night together. She understood that her husband had been a criminal, even while he’d sworn to uphold the law. She understood that she’d have no life of her own until all this ended.

She hated every bit of it, but she understood.

“You have my full cooperation,” she said in a whisper, and knew she’d live by that pledge. Because if she didn’t, if she backed out and refused to participate in their grand scheme, she’d not only put her own life in jeopardy, but she’d risk Josh’s life, and the lives of a dozen other men as well. Good, honorable men.

Now that she’d guaranteed her assistance, she wanted it over as quickly as possible. “So, what do we do now?”

He breathed an audible sigh of relief. “Now we find the Ivanov necklace.”

THEY AGREED to start their search in the office, then work their way toward the front of the house. While Paige rummaged through drawers and closets for any shred of evidence, Josh checked the more inconspicuous spots in the rooms, odd places where Anthony could have rigged a false drawer, or used furniture as a prop to conceal the million-dollar necklace.

Nothing was left unexplored. No square inch of any room left untouched. Their search was thorough and lengthy-and companionable. The earlier personal strain between them had ebbed in view of the more pressing matter at hand. However, Josh had no intention of letting Paige conveniently dismiss what had happened the night before. Had no intention of letting her forget how simple need had evolved into desire and passion.

Last night had changed so much between them. Paige needed time to sort out her feelings, to come to terms with the changes in their relationship. Josh understood that, especially after everything he’d heaped on her in the past eighteen hours.

Right now, they had a necklace to find. Later, he’d concentrate on them.

“So, Detective Marchiano, what’s the great plan if we find the necklace?”

Josh replaced a watercolor painting back on the wall, then turned and gave her a wry grin. They were in her bedroom, and three hours into the search. She stood just outside of the master bathroom, having just gone through the drawers and cupboards beneath the vanity.

“Your faith in finding the Ivanov necklace astounds me.” He moved to the bed-determinedly blocking out images of Paige so warm and willing beneath him on that mattress-and patted down the throw pillows for any foreign lumps. “Concentrate on when, not if.”

Paige stood, hands on her hips, her gaze scanning the room, scrutinizing everything with a critical eye. “I told you that I’ve gone through most of Anthony’s things, and I haven’t found anything that would indicate he had a million-dollar necklace in his possession.” Moving to the nightstand, she opened the top drawer and sorted through the contents. “I haven’t come across a receipt for a safety-deposit box, or anything else of that nature.”

“I don’t think he’d use a safety-deposit box for this.” He stripped the covers off the bed and began inspecting the mattress for any odd seams or pockets. “I don’t know that for sure, of course, but if I’d stolen the necklace I’d hide it in a way that isn’t traceable by some kind of paper trail.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him as he picked up the ceramic lamp on the nightstand and checked to make sure it hadn’t been tampered with in any way. “If there is no evidence of the necklace and its whereabouts, then how does this Carranza person know that Anthony stole it at all?”

He noted her concerned expression before heading toward the armoire against the far wall. “Good question,” he acknowledged, silently admiring the way she addressed important facts most people wouldn’t even consider. She was thinking like a detective, though he suspected she wouldn’t appreciate being enlightened as to her natural investigative instincts.

“From what we’ve learned, Anthony made the mistake of contacting a guy who fences stolen merchandise and asked him if he was interested in some diamonds and emeralds.” Opening the double doors to the armoire, he pulled out a cedar-lined drawer and found his hands immersed in a froth of silk and lace lingerie.

Damn. Heat licked through his veins, spiraling low. Quickly and efficiently he sifted through the sexy stuff that smelled as feminine as Paige. He found too much that piqued his interest, and nothing to warrant an extensive investigation of the contents of this particular drawer. He slammed it shut. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do to banish the erotic images of Paige wearing a pair of those sheer panties and a matching wispy camisole.

“So, what happened?” Paige asked, jarring him out of his fantasy and effectively dousing his arousing mental vision.

He glanced over his shoulder. She slipped a hardbound book back into the nightstand and looked up at him with wide eyes full of interest. “Apparently, the fence has done business with Bridget before, and had heard about the missing Ivanov necklace. He knew he’d be rewarded for finding the jewels, not to mention stay on Carranza’s good side, and tipped Bridget off about Anthony’s inquiry.”

She raised a brow and stood. “Since there was no hard evidence that Anthony actually had the necklace, that’s pure speculation, don’t you think?”

He liked the way her mind worked, the way she didn’t settle for a pat explanation. “Yes and no,” he admitted. He took a moment to move the armoire and check the carpeting beneath, then arranged it back into place. “Bridget confronted Anthony about the inquiry, and he admitted he had the necklace and told her he’d cut her in on the deal. She’s very loyal to Carranza and didn’t go for it. When Carranza challenged him, Anthony denied everything. Carranza isn’t known for leniency or second chances.”

“No, it doesn’t seem so, does it?” She rubbed her arms through the sleeves of her turtleneck, as if experiencing a sudden chill, though the room was comfortably warm. “So what are we going to do when we find the necklace? Give it back to Carranza?”

“Hell, no.” She might be smart with investigative theories, but she was more than a little naive when it came to street intelligence. The vulnerability brought out his protective instincts, made him choose his explanation carefully. “We need the necklace as a lure. Carranza wants the Ivanov necklace, and we want him. This time, we’re going to nail him.”

She frowned. “How?”

He removed another picture from the wall, found nothing out of the ordinary, and replaced it. “Remember that portrait you had taken for Anthony on your first anniversary? You know, the one where you’re wrapped in that white fur?”

His question surprised her, and her answer came hesitantly. “Yes, I remember.”

And there was no way he could ever forget it. When Anthony had shown him a wallet-sized replica of that 16 x 20 portrait, Josh had been stunned by the transformation in Paige. Gone was the beautiful, conservative woman, and in her place was a seductive vixen. It had been one of those sexy, sensual portraits, soft and unfocused, like something straight out of a man’s fondest fantasy. She’d been posed on her side, with a white fur wrap draped strategically along her sleek curves. One hand held the fur to her breasts, displaying a hint of cleavage and leaving her shoulders bare. One long leg slipped out of the folds so it appeared she wore nothing at all beneath the fur covering. Her thick, dark hair was tousled enticingly around her face, and she was looking into the camera with a provocative smile that promised endless pleasures.

Yeah, the portrait was perfect for what he had in mind. “Where is it?”

“I packed it away.”

“You need to unpack it.”

Judging by the wariness turning her eyes a deep shade of green, she wasn’t too thrilled with the direction of their conversation. “Why?”

“The department has commissioned an artist to paint your portrait and add the Ivanov necklace. That picture would be perfect to use.”

“I’d hardly think so,” she argued. “Josh, the only thing I’m wearing in that picture is a white fur wrap!”

“Which will offset the necklace beautifully,” he reasoned. “Once the portrait is done, which should take about a week, we’ll hang it in your office at the Wild Rose.”

Her jaw literally fell open, and she looked at him as if he were a few rounds short of a full clip. “Why in the world would I hang a portrait of myself? And one that’s so…”

“Sexy?” he offered.

“Yes!”

She looked so indignant, he couldn’t stop the grin tugging the corner of his mouth. “Because that’s the kind of woman you’ve been portrayed as, someone who’s pampered and a little pretentious. And you are sexy, Paige,” he said. Then he added in a soft, meaningful tone, “Besides, you would have to hang a portrait that was a gift from your lover, wouldn’t you?”

She fingered the high collar of her turtleneck, where a becoming shade of pink was slowly rising. “Don’t you think this is taking things too far?”

“Nope.” He headed toward the walk-in closet, the last place they needed to search. She followed at a discreet distance. “Once the picture is up, our plant will tell Carranza that he’s heard about the portrait in which you’re wearing the necklace. That’s all it will take for Carranza to pay you a visit.”

“And put a gun to my head and demand the necklace?” she asked sarcastically from behind him.

He immediately tossed out the horrible image her question projected in his mind. It wasn’t a scenario he wanted to consider at the moment, though there would be precautions taken to avoid such a situation.

Turning on the light in the closet, he began sliding the clothes on hangers aside so he could check the wall behind. “Our sources tell us he’s not into violence unless absolutely necessary. Our guess is that he’ll make a few inquiries about the necklace and find out what you know about it. He might even pretend interest in purchasing it.”

She stretched and retrieved a blue-and-gray striped box on the shelf above the hanging garments. “And what do I tell him?”

“You tell him that it was a gift from your husband, and play it like it’s nothing more than costume jewelry.”

“And what if he wants to buy it?” she countered.

“Then you tell him it’s not for sale.”

“Isn’t that defeating the purpose of luring him?”

“No. He’ll pursue his interest in the necklace,” he said, confident of that. Turning, he found himself so close to Paige all he had to do was take half a step, lower his head, and he’d be able to kiss her like he’d been wanting to all day. Except he knew he’d never be able to stop at just one taste, and he knew she wasn’t ready to accept the full brunt of his feelings for her. At least not in the light of day.

With a harsh sigh, he dropped to his knees on the floor, examining the molding around the base and checking the wall for any cutouts. “Our main goal is to get on Carranza’s turf, which shouldn’t be too difficult. He’ll want to confiscate the necklace on his territory, surrounded and protected by his own people. It’s what we want, too, since we have our own plants who can arrest Carranza when everything goes down.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

He glanced up, meeting her gaze, seeing her need for a reassurance he had no right to give. “No, it’s not simple, Paige,” he said honestly. “It’s dangerous and it’s risky, but I’ll guarantee that you’ll be protected in every way possible. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Irritation flashed across her features and stretched her mouth into a grim line. “You can’t make those kind of promises, so don’t.” She turned her back to him and proceeded to search through the drawers built into the closet.

In frustration, he blew out a stream of breath, hating the tension vibrating between them. She was right, he couldn’t make promises of immortality. He didn’t have that kind of direct link to the big man upstairs. In truth, he had no way of predicting which way the chips would fall, and a part of him acknowledged that, with Paige’s life at stake, he was nervous as hell about the outcome of this sting. He could only speculate how Carranza would react to the situation, could only hope his sources knew Carranza as well as they believed. It was like engaging in an intricate chess game with a master player, trying to think ahead and outsmart your opponent before making the slightest move.

And in order to think straight enough to counter any move Carranza or his men made, he had to keep his feelings for Paige, and his worry for her, secondary to his survival instincts.

As he put that important thought foremost in his mind, his fingers brushed over the frayed ends of the carpet. He frowned, then followed the ragged edge along the molding to the corner of the closet. The carpet wasn’t tacked down as it should have been. Too easily, he stripped the piece back and found himself staring at a flat metal lid flush with the concrete foundation.

“I’ll be damned,” he muttered.

Paige knelt beside him. “What is it?” Her voice was as excited and eager as he felt.

Inserting his finger into the thumb-hole, he lifted the metal lid, revealing exactly what he’d anticipated. He looked at Paige and grinned triumphantly. “It’s a built in safe.”