The Black Sheep and The English Rose. Donna Kauffman

reached out her hand to him. “Joining me? Or are you just going to stand there and scowl because my car is bigger than yours?”

      He slid in, careful to seat himself at a diagonal, on the far side of the roomy, beautifully appointed interior. If he had any hope of regaining control, he had to get his shit together and get it there fast.

      She crossed her legs. He looked out the window. It didn’t help much. He could still see them reflected in the glass. Maybe he should just crawl across the damn seat, drag her underneath him and get it out of his system. Problem was, last time he’d tried that they’d still been going at each other two days later.

      Right now there was an ancient artifact floating around the city, with a very limited window of opportunity for retrieval before it likely took off overseas in the pocket of a private collector’s agent. Finn’s client, who happened to be the rightful owner of the stone, if not the necklace itself, regardless of what various legal entities had declared, wouldn’t be too happy if he lost what might likely be his only chance at regaining possession of a precious family heirloom because Finn had been too busy fucking his brains out.

      “Perhaps later,” Felicity said, drawing his attention back to her. “After dessert. Or for dessert.”

      “Perhaps later, what?”

      She glanced down, below his belt, then back at him, with a private smile curving her lips.

      He shifted slightly, but there was no hiding what was obvious to them both. “About this dinner,” he said, determined to get them both talking business at the same time. Even if it killed him. Which, given the relentless state of his aching hard-on, it just might. “Do you know who he might be dining with?”

      “You mean, who is he going to sell the stone to? I don’t know what courier he’ll be using, but I have a fair idea of who the actual buyer is, yes.”

      She’d said stone, not necklace, making him wonder if she knew about the contested nature of this specific artifact. And what impact that might have had on her decision to go after it.

      She cocked her head slightly when he didn’t respond right away. “I rather thought you’d be on the same page. After all, you were just behind John when you tracked him to me.”

      And Finn should have kept on tracking him, leaving Felicity to deal with her unfortunate incarceration. Now all he could think about was damned dessert. “I have my own ideas on who the other players are, but I wanted your input. You seem to have a direct connection to Reese. If we both know what we’re dealing with, all the better in terms of being successful in getting the piece back.”

      She lifted one slender shoulder and picked at the folds of her dress. “As you said, there are several key players, but I’m fairly certain he’s going with the Russian.”

      Finn said nothing. She could be telling him the truth, or she could be purposely steering him off the right path. It was true, she’d never directly lied to him in the past, but, despite the adversarial nature of their relationship, she hadn’t had reason to. In both cases during their previous meetings, they’d already known the whereabouts of the quarry in question and hadn’t needed the information or discussed the topic with the other. Had she bested Reese earlier today, she’d have likely beaten him to the prize this time. Only she hadn’t. Which meant it was a race now, to see who got to it first. And he wasn’t entirely sure what she was capable of doing in her quest to win.

      What the hell had he been thinking, partnering with her? His cock twitched when she recrossed her legs, reminding him exactly what he’d been thinking with.

      “You’re certain he has it?”

      She nodded. “I was close, but I’d hoped to get a key piece of information from him and beat him at his own game.”

      “He wasn’t aware you were…in the market for the same piece?”

      “I let him think I had heard about it and was interested in buying it.”

      “And he’d give you just enough information on who he was getting it from?”

      “Something like that.”

      Finn thought on that for a moment. “Have you used his…services before?”

      She smiled then. “You’re adorable when you’re jealous. I assure you, however, there is nothing to be jealous of. Yes, I have worked with him in the past, Foundation business mostly.”

      “Mostly.”

      “Yes,” she reiterated, “mostly. Some family business as well. Nothing of a personal nature.”

      He wondered how foolish he was to believe her. But, holding her direct gaze as he was, he did. “Of course you’re aware of his reputation for playing a bit outside the lines, when it comes to direct line of ownership with some of his more…unique artifacts. Not that this would be a problem for you personally, but how does the Foundation feel about working with someone whose character has been described as less than sterling?”

      She laughed. “You’d have to understand British peerage and the Trents’ very rich personal history to know that someone like John Reese causes barely a blip on the discomfort scale. The fact that he’s a very powerful man building quite the trade empire is of more interest than whatever means he might have used to secure some of it. Of course, everyone maintains quite the upper crust appearance on the surface, but that doesn’t mean they don’t wallow in all the gossip once the evening’s event is over. Everyone loves a good story, and John Reese comes packaged with quite a rich one.”

      “He’d have gotten along well with my father,” Finn muttered. “Perhaps your family would have as well.”

      “Perhaps,” she said, not taking the least offense. “Of course, I’m the last in the line,” she added, her own smile mischievous, “so I more or less dictate what the Foundation will deal with.”

      Finn smiled at that. “So, you think the trade itself will take place at Antoine’s?” he said, keeping his gaze anywhere but on her damn legs. “Rather high profile.”

      “Which is what he’s counting on, to be certain. Only someone with an…ego the size of John’s would dream of pulling that off.”

      Finn scowled, not wanting to think about Felicity having direct knowledge of the size of any part of John Reese. “Won’t seeing you there thwart that particular plan?”

      Her smile spread. “I most certainly hope so.”

      Finn propped his ankle on the opposite knee and willed his hard-on to subside. Jesus, it was as if he’d never had sex before.

      “Not only do I hope to unsettle Mr. Reese, I hope that by seeing that I have not only rebounded from the unfortunate circumstances he left me in this afternoon, but having come back stronger and more determined than ever, he will realize that there is no place that he, or that lovely piece of sapphire, can hide.”

      Finn noted that she’d made it sound as if this were still all her game, with him playing the role of nothing more than a convenient escort. He didn’t bother to correct that assumption, thinking perhaps that would be to his advantage later. And God knew he needed one right about now.

      “Seeing you pop up might make him that much more eager to dump the stone,” Finn warned. “Once he makes his deal, he’s out of it, and the chase moves on to the buyer and the courier. Which gets tricky with Russian import/export laws being what they are.”

      “I don’t think Chesnokov will be as eager to take possession of an artifact with a less-than-pristine provenance if there is suddenly some less-than-discreet public attention being paid to it.”

      “Less-than-discreet public attention?” Finn leaned forward. “What scheme are you cooking up now?”

      “Why look, darling. We’ve arrived.” Felicity turned her attention to the side window, beyond which was the slowly rolling scene of the nightly line that formed outside Antoine’s.

      The