Except that his desire for her had been real. She might not know much about men, but she was dead certain he hadn’t been faking in the helicopter.
Hah. And he said he never used sex to help with his work. She might have hassled him about it, but she had no desire to further probe the little green monsters bouncing around in her stomach.
One thing she knew for sure. She was a mess. How Jeff Steiger had managed to throw her this totally off balance this fast, she had no idea. But she didn’t like it. When they got to their hotel, she was having a nice long meditation and getting him thoroughly out of her system-regardless of her failure to do so in the helicopter.
As for the job at hand, there wasn’t much to mull over about the theft. There was no sign of forced entry. An excellent security system had inexplicably been circumvented. The caretaker had worked there for thirty-five years and had an airtight alibi for last night, not to mention a sterling reputation on the island. It was the Ghost, through and through.
On their way out of the police station, they ran into the detective in charge of the art theft investigation. The guy seemed none too pleased that they were still hanging around.
Jeff asked the detective, named Elgin D’Abeau, “Would you mind if we went out and had a look at the Valliard place in the morning?”
All guise of friendliness evaporated. “Sorry, mon. Dis is a police mattuh. Stay out of it, and tell your people to stay away, too.”
Kat assumed that by “your people,” the detective meant the American government. Yikes. Lack of police cooperation would spell big trouble for their op. Time for a quick intervention.
She spoke up smoothly. “As you know, Detective, Mr. Steiger represents certain American interests. I, however, do not.” She caught the flash of surprise in Jeff’s eyes, and also how quickly he masked it. He was good, all right.
Time for a little flirtation of her own. After all, what was good for the gander was good for goose. She smiled intimately at D’Abeau and let her hand drift up to the detective’s shoulder seemingly of its own accord.
“Actually, I work for Lloyd’s of London-” her hand drifted lower. Slid off his elbow and fluttered to her throat. “I’d appreciate it if you could keep that under your hat-you understand-the sensitive nature of this case-”
She tucked a lock of errant hair behind her ear, running her fingertip suggestively around her earlobe. She let her voice go breathy and took a small step forward, bringing her subtly but definitely into the guy’s personal space. “I wouldn’t dream of interfering in any way, of course-”
His nostrils flared, and his pupils expanded sharply as he nodded in agreement.
Time to go for the kill. “My employer is deeply concerned about this string of thefts and Lloyd’s would like to offer any assistance we can in the matter. I’ll see to it personally.” Loaded emphasis on the
The detective swayed forward, a slow grin unfolding on his face. He purred back, “Of course, Ms. Kim. I completely understand.”
She’d bet he did. She continued in her huskiest voice, dripping with all the sex she could muster. “Of course, my firm wouldn’t want to cause a fuss by advertising my presence here-perhaps even scare certain residents into leaving the island. I must ask that you exercise the utmost discretion regarding mentioning my affiliation-deeply appreciative and all. Our intent is to stay completely clear of your investigation, of course.”
For good measure, she stroked his arm again. The guy about came out of his skin. He drawled, “Lloyd’s, is it? Well now, little lady. I’m proper glad you’re here. We’d be grateful for any help you can give us. You understand that I can only help you unofficially.”
“But of course. I’d have it no other way. I’m happy to share anything I learn with you. We understand each other, then. I’ll make sure my American associate behaves himself.” She let a hint of disdain enter her voice as she referred to Jeff.
Thankfully, Jeff was lightning fast on the uptake and didn’t react to her comment. But if she wasn’t mistaken, there was a certain whiteness about his mouth-or maybe it was the clenched fists jammed deep in his pockets that gave away his tension.
She shared an overlong handshake with the eager detective, then turned to leave. She spoke to Jeff in approximately the same tone she might use to address a Great Dane. “Come along, Mr. Steiger. I need a decent cup of tea before I retire. I sincerely hope I can get one on this island.”
“Along with a rousing game of cricket and some kippers,” Jeff grumbled under his breath in a fake British accent.
She bit back a smile as she sailed out of the police headquarters. The car had pulled away from the curb before Jeff burst out, “Lloyd’s? What if D’Abeau checks your credentials with them?”
Not going to say anything direct to her about flirting with the detective, was he? Smart man-he must realize she would call him on the little game he’d played with the woman back in the evidence locker.
“One cover story coming up.” She dialed H.O.T. Watch Ops on her cell phone. “Hey, Jenn, it’s Kat. I need you folks to patch a phone call through for me. Lloyd’s of London. I know it doesn’t open till nine London time, but they’ve got a twenty-four-hour number and they’ll connect me to the person I need.”
The H.O.T. Watch staff found the number and put the call through impressively fast. In a few moments, a woman’s British-accented voice said briskly, “You’re speaking to Lloyd’s of London. How may I help you?”
“I need to speak to Michael Somerset. Could you ring me through to his home number straight away? Tell him it’s Cobra. He’ll take the call.”
To the operator’s credit, she didn’t make any comment on the strange request. A familiar, albeit sleepy, voice came on the line.
“Cobra? What can I do for you at this lovely hour of night?”
She laughed. “I need a cover. For the next few weeks, I need to be a contract investigator for Lloyd’s. Can you arrange that?”
“Sure. The boys owe me a few favors after the mess I just helped them clean up.”
“You’re the best.”
“Anything else I can help with? Do you need any information from Lloyd’s to assist in this investigation of yours?”
“Now that you mention it, I could use a list of properties in Barbados. Private homes in particular with insurable art collections.”
“I assume we’re talking about high-end pieces?”
“Yes.”
“Do you need it now, or can I roll over and take care of it first thing in the morning?”
“Morning’s soon enough.”
“Is Mamba with you?” he asked hopefully.
Mamba was Medusa Aleesha Gautier’s field handle. She and Michael had met and fallen in love on a mission two years ago. “Alas, no. She’s still doing what she has been for the past several weeks.”
“Got it.”
As special operators, both of them were conditioned never to mention the specifics of any training or mission over a telephone line, secure or otherwise.
“Thanks, Michael. You’re the best.” She disconnected and noticed Jeff glaring over at her. “What?”
“Who in the hell is Michael Somerset?”
Amusement flashed through her. My, my. Was Mr. We’ve-got-to-set-this-thing-between-us-aside jealous, perchance? Apparently, after her flirting with the detective, a middle-of-the-night phone call to another man to collect a major favor was too much for Jeff to swallow.
Entertained, she shrugged. “I met Michael on a mission a couple of years back.”
“And?”
She blinked innocently. “And what?”
He glared for a moment, but then, oddly, his features smoothed out. The jealousy drained from him as quickly as it had flared. “You wouldn’t be teasing me if you actually had a thing going with him.”
He smiled over at her, a lopsided expression conveying chagrin. “Okay, so I deserved to have you yank my chain like that. For some inexplicable reason, I’ve developed a jealous streak as far as you’re concerned. And no, I
