Sealed With A Kiss

“Stewart.” Joss hesitated. “This’ll mean something to Gwen.”

“Tell her…” The tone signaling the end of the visiting period rang. He waited until it was silent. “I’d give anything to have done things differently,” he said finally. “Tell her that, would you?”

4

BAX SAT in his chair with his feet up on his desk, rubbing the back of his neck. He’d spent too much time on the phone that day, trying to clear up business so he could leave for Stockholm. And wondering if he were nuts. Now, as the afternoon bled away, he was trying to decide whether to write up his notes or just call it a night. He hadn’t slept well the night before, waking in the darkness from dreams of unfulfilled cravings and dangerous pursuit.

And Joss Chastain.

The bargain they’d struck the previous day had been absurd, he knew that. He’d given her his word that he’d take on the case and he’d hold to it, but there’d be no charades of being lovers, no charades of being partners. His better judgment might have been overruled at the time but it had reappeared and he needed to do the responsible thing.

With a thump, Bax dropped his feet to the floor just as Joss swept through the door, all color and light in a pleated royal blue miniskirt and a stretchy blue and silver striped shirt that wound around her body.

“I’ve found something,” she announced.

She was something, something he’d fought all day not to dwell on. Now, with her standing in his office practically vibrating with energy, their agreement seemed just a way to make a formality of the chemistry that flowed between them. The wide ebullience of her grin tempted him to taste. The curve of her waist begged him to touch. In a whirlwind second, she filled the room with her presence and completely destroyed his concentration.

And it pissed him off. “Now what?”

“I just got back from Las Vegas and I’ve got a clue.”

“Let me guess. You figured out that we’ll all be better off if you leave me alone to do my job?”

“Not that kind of clue.” She gave him a withering stare and sat in his client chair, taking her time getting comfortable. The getting comfortable involved lots of shifting and stretching that made him only more aware of her body. “Now, if you’re nice, I’ll share with you. If not, I’ll just keep quiet and let you tell me what you found out today.”

Irritating, he thought. “Let’s get something straight—”

“As your client, I’ve got a right to a report on anything you’ve found out,” she reminded him serenely.

What she didn’t have was a right to blow in here smelling of summer and seduction and completely fracturing his ability to think. “As my client, you pay me to do the investigating. That means if anyone was going to Vegas, it should have been me.”

She didn’t rise to his tone. Instead, she gave him a smile that made his pulse bump. “Some things need a woman’s touch. Anyway, in two days we’ll be flying all the way to Stockholm. Vegas is small change, by comparison.”

“You still should have told me before you went. I’ve already got the police report.” He held up a thick bundle of paper and slapped it back down on his empty desktop. “You wasted your time.”

“Not at all. I went to the Las Vegas jail to visit Stewart Oakes.”

“Who told you to take a flying leap, I hope.” Bax frowned. “His case is still in progress. You shouldn’t be talking to him.”

“His case is a formality at this point. He’s copping a plea on both sets of charges. Talking to me won’t change that. Besides, I can be persuasive when I want to be.”

Didn’t he know it, Bax thought, tearing his gaze away from her mouth. “All right, Nancy Drew, what did he tell you?”

Amusement crossed her face. She obviously knew where he’d been looking. “Well, I tried to get him to say something about the Swedish collector, but he played dumb.”

“Now there’s a surprise.”

“Not dumb enough. I mentioned Silverhielm’s name and his eyes shifted. Even if he doesn’t know for sure it was Silverhielm, he believes it is.”

“You flew to Vegas for that?”

Joss bristled. Good, he thought. Keep her at a distance.

Don’t let her get close with that gypsy hair and those eyes that promised everything. “No. I’ve got information about the intermediary.”

“Right. Houseman or whatever his name was.”

“Stewart said the guy looked Nordic, moved like an athlete.”

Bax gave a dismissive shrug. “That’s all in the police report.”

“And just exactly how did you get your hands on the police report, anyway?”

“A friend or two in the right places.” And his good fortune that San Francisco had jurisdiction over the larceny portion of the case.

“Did the report also mention the scar on his hand? Ooooh, I guess it didn’t,” Joss singsonged with enjoyment and walked over to lean against the edge of his desk, facing him.

Bax looked at her. “There’s a perfectly good chair over there.” And he’d be much more comfortable with her at a distance.

“I’d rather talk face-to-face.” Mischief lurked in her eyes.

“You’re on my desk.”

“Good.” She leaned on one hand. “Something ought to be. There’s something slightly disturbed about a person having such a clean desk.”

“I like things uncluttered.” Which meant not sleeping with clients, he reminded himself, but he couldn’t stop staring at the long, lean lines of her body.

“Sometimes clutter is a lot more fun,” she purred and touched the tip of her tongue to her upper lip.

Bax cleared his throat. “What about the scar?”

“Well, obviously it’s an identifier. If we find Silverhielm, we look at his soldiers and try to find the guy with the mark.”

“It’s a long shot.”

“It’s something concrete. Anyway, what did you come up with today, Phillip Marlowe?”

“My Interpol contact didn’t know a whole lot but he promised to ask around. He was able to pass on a few interesting tidbits, though.”

“Such as?”

“Our boy has his fingers in a lot of pies. Officially, he does import/export. Jewelry, mostly. He seems to consider himself a connoisseur of the finer things. Lives on a private island in the archipelago to the east of Stockholm.”

“Nice. Has he been in trouble with the law?”

“Nothing that showed up on any of the systems my contact could access. He’s rumored to be responsible for several ugly murders. Word on the street is that he’s not to be crossed.”

Joss nodded thoughtfully. “Interesting.”