“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,
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
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.
“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
