What Happened in Vegas.... Wendy Etherington

stopped. “Oh, please.”

      “Oh, yes.”

      “You’re just a generous and selfless kind of guy.”

      “Naturally.”

      Crossing her arms over her chest, she shook her head. “So why now? Why this treasure?”

      He hadn’t expected her to listen to him and was actually relieved she hadn’t thrown him out of the building. That would have put a serious damper on his mission.

      He needed Jacinda on his side. He needed her to believe him. Proving his claims that the emerald belonged to his family wasn’t going to be easy, and it was vital to have an ally in the opposing camp. “Obviously because of the family connection. It’s been a quest of mine for many years. When I saw the preview pictures of your auction, I knew I’d found it at last.” He paused, figuring he might as well spill the rest of it. “Imagine how surprised I was to find your name on the contact list.”

      “My—” She stopped, narrowing her eyes. “You knew me as Jacy Powers.”

      “I knew who you really were within twenty-four hours of leaving Vegas.”

      Obviously embarrassed, she turned away.

      “I was curious.” He lowered and gentled his tone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

      “It doesn’t matter,” she said tightly, though clearly it did. She spun back to face him, her face a blank mask. “If the emerald belongs to your family, how do you think it could have possibly found its way here?”

      “It was stolen from my grandmother many years ago.”

      “No kidding. Tragic.”

      Her doubtful tone set him on edge. “It was.”

      While he hadn’t expected to be welcomed with open arms, knowing his deception about his family and the money would be revealed, neither had he expected her to be so hard and cold. He remembered the laughter and teasing challenge in her eyes. What had happened to her that changed her so much?

      “You have proof of this theft?” she demanded.

      “I have the original insurance claim.”

      “Dated nineteen-forty…”

      “Nine.”

      “And the insurance agent can testify to that?”

      “He’s dead.”

      “I’m so sorry.”

      “We weren’t close.”

      “Still, it must have been a tragic loss for your family and your…” She paused and smirked. “Legacy.”

      She was mistaken if she thought insulting him would get rid of him. “Are you doubting my word that the emerald was stolen from my family?”

      She pursed her lips. “Mmm. Let me think….” Her gaze sliced to his. “Yes.”

      He clenched his jaw.

      Passion always brought passion—in either devotion or conflict. He could work with that. He’d made it work for him many times before. He’d hoped their past would bond them, if only a little. He’d hoped to flirt and tease his way into her good graces.

      But he could be hard. Tough. Unrelenting.

      His pulse hammering in his veins, he rounded the display cases and advanced toward her. He felt the weight of each step.

      The closer he got, the wider her eyes became.

      He’d always been charming with her. He’d been careful to be easygoing. That persona suited him.

      But everything was different today.

      Today, she had what he wanted. Today, she glared at him. Today, she doubted his word. Today, six years had passed since he’d touched her, since he’d felt the tension and need between them.

      Today, despite all logic, distance and opposing views, he still wanted her.

      As he drew closer, her body heat melded with his. The sensual perfume that was part her and part chemical reaction between them teased him. Invited him. The intimacies they’d shared flowed through him. Memories of her hot, silky skin wouldn’t let go, as if she’d physically grabbed him around his throat.

      Well, actually, she’d grabbed him a bit lower.

      And she had amazing hands.

      “That emerald is mine,” he managed to say, his voice hoarse with suppressed desire.

      “I don’t think so, Adventure Boy. It’s in my display case. It’s on my auction roster.”

      “I’m not a boy.”

      She cocked her head. “Leave it to a guy to dispute, not the facts, but the cheap attack on his manhood.” Drawing her finger down his chest, she smiled smugly. “You’ve softened over the years, Gideon. What a shame.”

      As he grabbed her finger, he could actually feel his blood boiling. He’d tracked his family’s gem for more than a decade. He’d run down false leads. He’d bribed people. He’d failed and started again. He’d been subjected to ridicule and continually fought through the doubts of his family, friends and colleagues.

      With the emerald finally within his reach, with his family’s honor at stake, he wasn’t compromising.

      Even for the sensual abandon of the woman before him.

      He squeezed her finger. “As I recall you liked me hard, so any softness must be a great disappointment.”

      Her eyes darkened to smoke. Her lips parted.

      So maybe the icy shell she’d built around her wasn’t so thick after all. Maybe she did remember the heat they’d shared. How long before he could loosen the buttons of her suit, before he could reveal that lush body she was trying so hard to hide?

      He’d promised himself he’d be professional, that this was not the time for sex. He’d hoped that goal would last more than twenty minutes.

      She smiled, but not with invitation. “If I had any intention of picking up where we left off six years ago, I might be disappointed.”

      “I didn’t offer you anything.” Yet, anyway.

      She smiled again, her eyes mocking. “Sure you did.”

      “So we’re keeping things strictly professional?”

      “This thing isn’t going to last more than ten minutes, so, yes, I’d say so.”

      “You give me the emerald. I walk out of here. Okay, ten minutes sounds about right.”

      “Not so fast.” She angled her head, looking amused. “You really think it’s yours.”

      “I know it is.”

      She tapped one finger on his chest, then scooted around him. “Prove it.”

      He clenched his fists at his sides to keep from reaching for her. Or strangling her. Her amusement at his expense was infuriating. Why wasn’t she wound as tight as he was? Why did one touch, one sensual smile, have him hard and aching? The moment when she’d softened—an expression reminiscent of that weekend—had been way too short.

      He wanted that connection back. He wanted her horizontal for hours on end.

      But not more than you want the emerald, you idiot. Charming. Think charming. Get what you want, then worry about the rest.

      “Let’s talk about it over dinner.”

      “I have plans for dinner.”

      “Then drinks.” He glanced at his watch. “At six. At Thai Bistro. It’s down the street.”

      She frowned.

      “You