The Sinful Art of Revenge

His grip altered, and the slide of his palm against hers sent another pulse of heat up her arm. Reiko glanced down at their entwined hands and felt a knot tighten in her belly. This hadn’t been such a bright idea after all. Rather than throwing him off guard, she felt at a disadvantage.

‘Let me rephrase that. I need your expertise.’

That was more like it. ‘Careful, Baron, your sneer isn’t exactly endearing. It’s taken you weeks to find me. The least you can do is be civil. Otherwise next time I may not be so easy to find.’

‘For that to happen I’d have to let you out of my sight. And I have no intention of doing so. As for being civil—I must admit that’s a little lower on my list right at this moment.’

She shrugged. ‘Well, you can leave, or I can call the police and have you arrested for trespass.’

Intense eyes narrowed. ‘That would be a mistake.’

Her smile widened. ‘I’m quite happy to let them decide.’

Without releasing her, he extracted his BlackBerry from his pocket and held it out to her. ‘Bien s?r—make the call.’

Despite her smile staying put, she shuddered. The police were the last people she wanted to be dealing with. ‘You don’t mean that.’

‘I’m prepared to accept a charge for trespass. Are you prepared for me to hand over the interesting facts I’ve gathered on you to them?’

Her fingers jerked within his grasp. To cover the telling reaction, she pressed her palm closer to his. His eyes widened, the grey darkening a touch as his gaze dropped to their entwined fingers.

Despite everything screaming at her to run in the opposite direction, Reiko went one better. Reaching out, she clasped his elbow. His head jerked up, his gaze snagging and holding hers prisoner, his brow furrowing in an attempt to read her.

Sensory overload warred with anxiety. This close to his overwhelming masculinity, she could smell the crisp tones of his aftershave, along with the heat coming off his toned skin. Frantically she tried to stem the memory of how his skin had felt against hers, how she’d loved to wear his shirt, roll around in his scent like some loved-up puppy.

But all she could compute was how perfectly sculpted his cheekbones were, how lush and damned sexy his spiky lashes looked, sweeping down to rake over her.

Beneath her dress, her body reacted. A slow burn started in her stomach, and grew, spreading fiery sensation … taunting her—

The sound of breaking glass made her jump.

Damion raised an eyebrow.

‘The caterers are still here. Give me a few minutes to dismiss them, then you can resume threatening me.’

Eyes narrowed in suspicion, he released her.

Reiko headed for the kitchen, not at all surprised when he fell into step beside her. She forced herself not to rub her hands against her thighs to alleviate their intense tingling.

After making sure they hadn’t broken a priceless heirloom, she signed the cheque, thanked and dismissed the catering crew.

Slowly retracing her steps, she carefully altered her walk to adjust to the pain shooting through her hips and pelvis. She’d been on her feet for too long in heels far too uncomfortable for her injuries. But, as much as she wanted to trudge her weary body upstairs, stretch through her painful exercises before showering for bed, she couldn’t give in.

She had to deal with the ex-lover who prowled like a dangerous jungle animal beside her. Straightening her spine, she led him to the living room.

‘Right, are you going to resume your ogre impression?’ She glanced over at him and caught the edge of bleakness that shot across his face.

He gave a grim smile. ‘I’d like to return to London tonight, so I’ll get to the point. My grandfather disposed of a collection of three paintings four years ago, shortly after my grandmother died. I believe you know something about them?’

Her chest tightened. ‘Maybe.’

His jaw tightened so hard and for so long she feared it would crack. Then he sighed, and she caught the edge of weariness in the sound. ‘Don’t play games with me, Reiko. I know you were the broker.’

‘But games are what we do best—aren’t they, Daniel? Pretending to be one thing when we’re something else?’

He shoved a hand through his hair. ‘Look, I was surprised when your grandfather didn’t recognise me—’

‘He had other things on his mind, like trying to stop you from taking everything away from him.’

Damion nodded. ‘Once I realised that, I thought it would be better if he didn’t know.’

‘And what about me? We were together for six weeks. You could’ve come clean at any time. You chose not to.’ Because she hadn’t been important enough—hadn’t been worthy of his honesty even after he’d taken her to his bed.

He inhaled sharply. ‘Don’t over-dramatise what happened between us, Reiko. If I recall, you were surprisingly easy to get rid of. But then you had incentive, didn’t you?’

‘If you’re talking about the money—’

‘The money and the lover who replaced me before the bed was cold!’

His teeth visibly clenched over the words and a flash of ice washed over her.

Amid the dark panic and unwanted feelings flooding her, shame threaded its way through. It was no use telling herself she had nothing to be ashamed of. She’d let herself down, and it was yet another thing the demons never let her forget.

As she watched, Damion reined his emotions in. But even from across the room she could feel the pulse of his anger and contempt.

‘Now that we’ve relived fond memories, let’s move on, shall we?’ he said. ‘I’ve retrieved the Femme de la Voile. I haven’t been able to trace the Femme en Mer or the Femme sur Plage. It’s imperative that I find them both, but Sur Plage is the one I want found soonest.’

She forced herself back to the present. ‘You want the Femme en Mer, too?’ she murmured. ‘I thought—’

‘You thought what?’

Somehow she’d expected Damion Fortier would want to reclaim the largest, most spectacular of the three paintings, not the smallest, the one only a handful of people had been allowed to see in its fifty years in existence.

‘Never mind. Why do you want them back?’

He shoved a hand deep into one trouser pocket, a look passing through his eyes that intrigued her.

‘That is not your concern.’

He didn’t know how wrong he was. ‘But it is. You want it for your VIP-only exhibition at Gallerie Fortier in Paris next week. That’s why you’ve been hunting the paintings these past months, isn’t it?’

He stilled. ‘Only six people are aware of my exhibition. The invitations haven’t even gone out yet. How did you come by this information?’

Reiko shrugged. ‘I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you. And all that blood would ruin my dress. Pointless, really.’

He sucked in an inflamed breath, then moved so quickly and silently she barely had time to register his intention before he’d caught her shoulders in a firm grip. ‘Who told you about the exhibition?’ he demanded.

She held her ground, despite the fire burning through her veins. ‘You don’t have to worry that I’ll leak the information. I never reveal my sources. In my line of business it’s suicide.’