Cursed With Love

CURSED, WITH LOVE

Cher Gorman

® www.loose-id.com

Warning This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id® e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

***** This book contains explicit sexual content and graphic language.

Cursed, with Love Cher Gorman This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Published by Loose Id LLC 1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-2924 Carson City NV 89701-1215 www.loose-id.com

Copyright © November 2006 by Cher Gorman All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

ISBN 978-1-59632-293-6 Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

Printed in the United States of America

Editor: Lorri-Lynne Brown Cover Artist: Christine M. Griffin

Dedication For Mike and Lilly. The best is yet to come. Thank you to my editor, Lorri-Lynne Brown, who never ceases to amaze me. As always, thank you to the “quad.”

Prologue

Scotland 14 March 564 Icy fingers of cold air slithered through the rough planks and wattles of Father Columba’s cell in the monastery on the island of Iona. Despite his thick woolen cloak and fur coverlet, he shivered against the wintry draft blowing off the coast of Scotland. The whispers of monks praying and meditating wafted through the walls and soothed him on the frigid evening. He’d just returned from vespers and lay down on his straw-stuffed mattress covering the simple bed frame ... He rested his head upon a stone pillow, the unforgiving surface a reminder of his constant devotion to God. He fingered the worn wooden prayer beads attached to the rope belt at his waist as he inhaled the comforting smell of melted wax from the burning candle beside his bed. As was the custom for monks, he slept in full dress. A cross of wood hung on a piece of leather around his neck and felt boots with no heel covered his feet. He listened to the shuffling of footsteps moving closer down the hallway outside his cell followed by a soft knock at the door. With weariness weighing heavily on his shoulders, Father Columba rose from his bed and folded his hands in front of him, not wishing for one of the brothers to find him in repose. “Enter.” Brother Paul, a small man with pale skin and light hazel eyes, slipped into the cell and walked to his side. He wore a similar robe about his body and boots upon his feet to protect him from the cold ... “A messenger arrived a moment ago, Father.” His voice was low and quiet so as not to disturb any of the monks reciting their prayers. “He insisted he deliver the missive into your own hand. We offered him sustenance in the refectory while he waits for you ...”

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Father Columba nodded. Perhaps the message was a request from a follower of Christ and his teachings to join them here at the monastery. His heart lifted at the prospect. He and the brothers needed every good and willing soul they could get to help them convert from their pagan ways the many heathens of this land. “Take me to him.” Father Columba and Brother Paul entered the refectory where the monks took their meals. Their footsteps rustled softly as they walked over the dried rushes covering the wood floor. The roughhewn table, though basic in design, was clean and provided ample space for the monks to sup. An oil lamp in the shape of a small bowl sat on an iron stand in the center of the table and spread thin light about the room. The messenger, a man of about six and twenty dressed in brown woolen breeches and tunic, rose from the table where he had enjoyed a simple meal of mutton and bread. The man bowed and kissed the gold ring on the middle finger of Father Columba’s right hand. The large ring bore the engraved image of a dove, which symbolized Father Columba’s baptismal name of Colum. The man straightened and held out a small folded piece of parchment. Father Columba looked at the paper and noticed the seal of his family’s royal crest -- a shield with an arm on the right-hand side and a hand grasping a cross. A spurt of uneasiness rushed through him. He hoped no one in his family had succumbed to illness. Quickly, he released the wax seal from the missive and held it toward the light from the oil lamp to read.

Your namesake and my daughter, Columina, while on her journey to be betrothed to the church in Galloway, was taken by the Pictish King Brude. I seek your help in thwarting this barbarian’s treachery. Considering the size of his armies, attacking his stronghold would be futile and many lives would be lost. King Brude has refused our clan’s repeated entreaties and offers of gold to release her, but I feel that even he, a savage and unprincipled man, will listen to you, the abbot of Iona. I beseech you to make haste to his castle in Inverness and plead for her safe return. Fedhlimdh of the Clan O’Donnell. For a moment, the hard spasm of fear gripped him at what the savage king and his men may have already done to his cousin, an innocent maid of barely fourteen. Closing his eyes, he made the sign of the cross and murmured a prayer before turning to Brother Paul standing at his side. “Ready some supplies. I must leave immediately for Inverness.”

*****

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Many days later, Father Columba halted his weary mount outside the thick stone walls of King Brude’s castle. Despite Brother Paul’s insistent pleas to accompany him, he’d traveled alone, not wishing to endanger Brother Paul’s life should King Brude choose to wield his sword. After several days of wet, dismal weather, the sun’s morning rays peeked through the cloudy sky and cast watery light upon the gatehouse which consisted of two stone towers. Wind swirled around his body, chilling him to the bone and whistled over the choppy surface of the river Ness at his back. A massive grating of wood and iron shielded the entrance into the castle’s inner bailey. A heavy chain attached to a bell at the top of the gate hung down in front, the end rattling in the brisk wind against the framework of iron. Father Columba dismounted and pulled the chain hard twice, ringing the bell. Soon thereafter, a man with tattoos drawn over his face and chest stared at him through the grating with beady, black eyes. His hair hung in unruly hanks around his head. His arms and chest were bare except for the pictures painted over his skin. He wore tartan breeches and a dagger hung from the leather belt at his waist. Leather boots secured around the ankle with rope covered his feet. In his right hand, he held a long pike. Father Columba had never actually seen one of the Pictish people up close but he had heard that they painted odd, primitive pictures on their bodies and wore little clothing even in winter. Now he knew it was true. “What is your business here?” His voice was low, rough and menacing. Despite the man’s attempt to make him cower in fear, Father Columba drew strength from his faith in God and his resolve to free his helpless cousin. “I am the abbot of Iona.” He was thankful his voice did not waver. He was thankful he had God on his side. He was thankful he had survived the journey. “I have traveled far seeking King Brude. I wish to speak to him about the Christian maiden he holds in his keep.” “Wait here.” With a grunt, the man turned and disappeared into the inner bailey. Father Columba waited in the cold wind until finally the man returned. “The king will see you tomorrow. You can stay in the village.” He motioned toward the cluster of huts where the villagers sought refuge and protection by making their home near the castle walls. “I must see him today.” The man ignored his firm request and turned abruptly to go. Father Columba removed the wooden cross which hung from his neck. Neither this savage nor his barbaric king would ignore him, a faithful follower of Christ. He gripped the cross in his hand and held it out toward the door. Closing his eyes, he whispered a prayer. The gate groaned and creaked before it flew open with a deafening crash. The guard who had just spoken to him whirled on his leather-booted feet. With a loud, guttural cry, the man raised the pike above his head and charged.

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Despite fear for his life, Father Columba stood his ground. He raised the cross once more in the direction of the swiftly advancing guard. Suddenly, the man stopped as if encountering a wall and abruptly dropped the pike. He screamed in pain, lifted his right hand and stared in disbelief at his palm. The imprint of the pike’s hilt had been burned into his flesh. Father Columba looked at the man. “Take me to King Brude. I will see him -- now.” He replaced the cross around his neck while the guard watched him in silence. Muttering to himself, the guard led him across the inner bailey and into the great hall. Father Columba entered the massive room behind the guard, who motioned for him to wait. The guard crossed the large hall containing rows of stone pillars supporting a wood roof. At one end, away from intruders and drafts, a dais of wood stood ... A brute of a man sat in a large chair on the dais. The guard spoke to the man who Father Columba assumed was the king. After a moment, the guard returned. “King Brude will speak to you ... before he runs you through.” The man smiled with uneven, stained teeth. Father Columba ignored the guard’s warning and walked toward the dais. When he was a few feet away, he saw his cousin, Columina lying motionless at the feet of the Pictish king. His heart caught in his throat knotted in love and pity at the sight of her. Her hair lay in tangles about her shoulders and bruises mottled her skin. She was no longer dressed as a maiden meant for the church but as a common harlot with her legs and feet bare, the bodice of her gown ripped to reveal the gentle curve of a young girl’s breast. When her hollow and despair-filled gaze connected with his, Father Columba’s heart wept bitter tears for her but his eyes remained dry. He must be strong. He must be fearless. He must be resolute if he intended to save her. King Brude motioned for him to step forward. “What do you seek, Abbot of Iona?” He asked the question in a bored tone. Father Columba straightened his shoulders and inhaled a deep breath before he spoke. His next words would be some of the most important he ever uttered. “I ask in the name of God that you let this maiden go, for she is meant for the church.” The king, his skin painted with odd symbols and markings, his tawny hair hanging in thick, unkempt ropes about his face, curled his lips back in a fierce grin. His sparkling blue eyes stared at Father Columba like those of a predator in a forest. Suddenly, he roared with laughter. “You are too late, Abbot of Iona,” he scoffed. His shoulders shook with mirth once more. “She is no longer a maid!” He yelled the words on a burst of laughter. The unkempt ruffian shoved his big hand inside the torn bodice of Columina’s gown, withdrawing her breast and squeezing it hard like a melon. Columina screamed and tried to pull away but he rewarded her efforts by grabbing between her legs and giving her a rough kiss. Afterward, Columina slumped to the floor, her golden locks falling like a curtain over her face, her head lowered in shame.

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Since hearing of his cousin’s plight, Father Columba had done everything within himself to curb his anger, but he could not allow this barbarous man to continue to brutalize his cousin. The king had defiled her; he had taken the innocence preserved for God and the church. This could not be borne. With rage pouring through him in a hot, vicious torrent, Father Columba stepped forward. “King Brude, will you free her?” “She is mine.” He growled the words like a wild animal. Until this day, Father Columba had never purposely used his spiritual powers to harm anyone, but he had no choice. He must save his cousin from the clutches of this savage king. He removed the cross once more from around his neck and held it out toward the king. “In the name of all that is holy, I curse you, King Brude, to immediately endure a slow and painful death.” The king threw his head back, his laughter echoing through every corner of the hall. Then he sneered at Father Columba and waved a hand absently through the air. “You frighten me not. Be gone, priest.” Reluctantly, Father Columba left the castle and made camp in the village near the walls of the castle. Just as he finished his meager repast, one of King Brude’s men appeared at his camp site. “The king wishes to see you at once.” Father Columba returned to the castle. The guard led him directly to the king’s royal bedchamber. Once inside, Father Columba looked at the king lying on a fur coverlet upon a huge bed made from a heavy wooden frame and springs of interlaced ropes overlaid with a feather-filled mattress. Moaning in pain, the king writhed, his head tossing on the pillow. Sweat soaked his shirt and breeches ... Great festering sores had broken out on his wretched skin. Yellow pus flowed freely, the stench almost unbearable. Columina sat hunched in a chair by the bed with her head lolling downward toward her chest. When Father Columba drew near the bed, the king opened his blue, pain-filled eyes and gripped Father Columba’s arm. For the first time since Father Columba had encountered the man, he saw fear in the king’s eyes. “Your powers are great.” He rasped the words through dry, cracked lips. “I have no power. It is God who has smitten you with disease.” The king’s fingers gripped Father’s Columba’s arm tighter. “Then ask this god of yours to release me from this plague and I will free her.” Relief swept through Father Columba. “Very well, but I will need to fetch some water and a white healing stone from the river Ness.” Father Columba walked down to the river Ness with one of the king’s men, who held an earthen jug in his hand. Overhead, the clear sky mingled with the gleam of the setting sun

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and painted the horizon in bright, orange hues. Father Columba turned to the man. “Fill the jug with water while I look for a stone.” Father Columba removed his boots and waded into the shallows. The frigid water sliced into his skin like tiny knives, but he ignored the cold and pinned his eyes on the sandy bottom of the clear river. After a long while, he spied a pure white stone about the size of his thumb. He bent over and picked it up. Holding the stone in the palm of one hand, he made the sign of the cross blessing it. The moment he finished the blessing, a glow like the moon’s silver light emanated from the stone. Father Columba turned to the guard who stood impatiently waiting for him on the shoreline. “I have found the healing stone.” Once they returned to the king’s bedchamber, Father Columba took the pitcher of water and stood close to the king’s bed. The king’s pain had grown worse and the sores had increased tenfold over his skin. Father Columba blessed the water before dropping the stone into the pitcher. Instead of sinking to the bottom, the stone floated on the water’s surface. Father Columba motioned to one of the king’s servants. “Help him sit up so that he may drink.” A servant hastened to help the king. Father Columba held the rim of the jug to the king’s mouth. “Sip this water and you will be made well again.” The king drank. Water dribbled down his chin and over the sores. His moaning stopped as the pain lessened and the sores began to heal and slowly disappear. Regaining some of his strength, the king grabbed the pitcher and drank great gulps of the water. The water overflowed the sides of the pitcher and swept the stone down, where it landed on the bedclothes. Columina, who had merely sat in a dazed stupor before, rose from her chair and quickly reached out toward the stone with her thin, dirty hand. Seeing the king cured must have revived her. When she held the rock in her palm, a pure band of light surrounded the stone. Father Columba’s heart rejoiced at the sight. King Brude, now cured of his illness, climbed from the bed. Columina held the stone out for all to see. “A river that can produce such a healing stone is truly blessed.” King Brude tried to take the stone from Columina’s hand, but she pulled away from his grasp. He leaned toward her again, grabbing Columina and wrenching the stone from where she clasped it tight in her fingers. The king held the stone in his palm, and Father Columba saw the stone glow a dull red against his skin. The halo of white he’d seen when Columina touched it was a sign of her purity. King Brude’s touch revealed his corrupt spirit. The king grinned down at the stone. “I must keep this stone, for it is truly made of magic.”

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Father Columba stepped toward the king. “It is not made of magic but is blessed with God’s mercy. You said yourself you do not believe in God. This stone is imbued with God’s power. It should be kept in a church.” The king jerked his hand away. “No, it is mine now. You came for the maid. Her, you may have. The stone I will keep.” Father Columba did not want to leave the stone in the possession of a barbarian but what else could he do? He thought for a moment. Perhaps he could appeal to the king’s arrogance. “If you build a chapel where the stone might be kept, you will be seen as a just and mighty king not only to your people but to the world as well.” The king eyed Father Columba with skepticism. “Why should I build a chapel in praise of a god in which I do not believe?” Before Father Columba could answer, one of the king’s men ran into the room. “King Brude, your land has been invaded by tribes from the south.” “Gather the army. We will drive them out.” The newly cured king placed the stone in a pouch which hung from his waist and swept from the room. One of the king’s guards remained behind. Burly and tall, he looked at Father Columba in awe and reverence as he drew near to his side. “Father, I have witnessed with my own eyes the king’s health taken and restored.” He laid a hand on Father Columba’s shoulder. “I believe in the power of your god.” Without another word, he ran through the doorway. With his cousin safe by his side, Father Columba returned to his campsite and treated her wounds. He secured clothing for her from one of the villagers before lying down to rest. Early the next morning a light snow lay over the desolate moor and fog hung low in the air. The man who had confessed his belief in God arrived on horseback. He slid from his lathered mount. Blood splattered his breastplate, breeches, and hands. An oozing cut marred one arm. He walked slowly to Father Columba and knelt on one knee on the cold ground. Without speaking, he untied from his waist a small pouch similar to the one in which King Brude had placed the stone. He opened the sack and emptied the contents into his hand. When he spread his grimy, blood-coated fingers, the white stone lay in his palm. A halo of pure light ringed the stone. The man lifted his head and looked at Father Columba with dark gray eyes. “King Brude is dead. Upon his death, I took the stone to bring it back to you. I am called Gamen. If you will allow me, I will build the chapel to honor your god and pledge my life in protection of this stone he blessed.”

***** Inverness, Scotland 17 October 764

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Brother Kenneth of the Order of the Dove entered the church of St. Columba to prepare for mass. He held a rushlight in one hand and a plate containing slices of fresh bread for the Eucharist. Shadows danced about the small stone chapel in the early morning darkness. A light rain fell and Brother Kenneth listened to the soft sounds of the rain pattering on the leaves and grass outside. As was his habit, he walked to a table which sat under a narrow arched window on the altar. He set down the candle along with the plate of bread on the table. The stone pillow, upon which St. Columba once rested his head, lay in the center. Two hundred years had passed since the white healing stone had cured the Pictish King Brude. Gamen, the first member of the Order of the Dove, had set the healing stone into a gold pendant fashioned in the shape of a dove and placed as a holy relic in the church. Through the centuries, each member of the order swore to protect and preserve the stone at the cost of his own life. Brother Kenneth heard a scraping noise and turned but saw nothing but candlelight and shadows. He reached for a jug of wine to mix with some water as a man’s arm clasped him tightly around the neck. He staggered and fell against the man’s chest. Brother Kenneth gripped the arm that held him and pulled, trying in vain to loosen the pressure at his throat. The smell of wood smoke permeated the assailant’s clothing; breath heavy with the scent of ale blew over his face. A dagger’s cold blade pressed against the base of this throat. Jagged fear froze his blood; his breath puffed from his lips in rapid pants. Reaching for inner strength, Brother Kenneth focused his gaze upward at a loosened rock in the wall above the altar. The brothers kept the pendant wrapped in cloth, hidden in a space behind the rock, except during mass, when they placed it on St. Columba’s stone pillow.

Saint Columba, deliver me from this man’s clutches so that I might continue to preserve the pendant. “Where is the pendant?” The man’s voice rasped in a threatening tone next to his ear. Brother Kenneth opened his mouth in an effort to breathe and tried to speak. “I cannot tell you.” He uttered the words in a suffocated wheeze. “I am sworn to protect it.” The man sliced his skin with the edge of the blade. “Where is it?” Brother Kenneth felt his life blood dribble in a warm stream down his neck. Black spots danced in front of his eyes as he kept his gaze on the stone. If only I could touch the pendant, my life might be preserved. He did not want to die at the hands of this ruffian. When he took his vows, he had sworn that he was ready to die to protect the pendant but in truth, he was afraid of death. “Let me go and I will get the pendant.” Thankfully, the man’s arm loosened and he lowered his hand which held the dagger. “No tricks.” Brother Kenneth sucked in a breath of much needed air, turned, and looked at his captor. He saw an ordinary man, dressed in gray britches and tunic with desperation in his

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dark eyes. “Are you or a member of your family in need of healing? All you need to do is ask and the abbot will --” “I’m not sick.” He jabbed the knife in Brother Kenneth’s direction, causing him to flinch. “Now get the pendant!” Brother Kenneth flicked his gaze from the dagger to the door of the chapel only a few feet away. Perhaps he could make it. It was his only chance. He ran but his attacker jumped him. The both fell with a grunt to the hard stone floor. The man jerked him over onto his back, brought the point of the dagger to his throat, and stared into Brother Kenneth’s eyes. Brother Kenneth felt the blade cut deep into the flesh of his throat. Fear, cold and terrible, shuddered through his body. Knowing he was going to die, once again Brother Kenneth focused his gaze upward toward the loose rock beneath the narrow arched window. Dear God, the healing stone is so close ... might I not feel its power again? The man followed Brother Kenneth’s line of sight. “What are you looking at?” He kept his gaze on the rock and the salvation he could not grasp ... “I’ll die before I tell you.”

***** When the monks filed into the chapel later for mass, the abbot of St. Columba’s gaze fell upon the sprawled form of Brother Kenneth lying beneath the altar, his throat slashed, his eyes open and empty. Blood pooled around him in a dark, clotted mass. The loose rock lay on the floor by his body, and the cloth which they used to wrap the pendant had been thrown like a useless rag onto his body. The abbot’s eyes widened at the sight. He raced toward the body. “Brother Kenneth!” The other monks rushed to their fallen brother as the abbot knelt next to his body. The monks gasped and murmured and cried out. The abbot administered last rites before rising slowly to his feet. He turned and faced the monks. “Our brother is dead and the pendant has been stolen.” A groan of disbelief undulated among the monks. The abbot lifted his hands up in the air with the palms facing outward. “>From this day forward, we will search unto the ends of the earth if necessary for the pendant. Until it is safely returned to this church, any man who acquires the pendant is doomed to die a violent death.”

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Chapter One Denver, Colorado Present Day The last of the gentleman jewel thieves was back. Scalding fury burned through Abel O’Brien’s throat. He slammed a fist onto the top of the desk in the study of his Cherry Creek home. “Damn it. How could he have robbed me? I’m the D.A., for Christ’s sake!” “Maybe that’s why he did it.” Frank Palmera, the Denver chief of police, sat across from him. A glimmer of light from the lamp on Abel’s desk danced over the chief’s short brown hair. Abel had called Frank and insisted he handle the case personally. After all, Abel was partially responsible for helping Frank obtain his current position. It was the least Frank could do. “A little ‘up yours’ gesture, huh? Can’t wait to see how cocky that damn thief is when he’s behind bars.” Abel’s tone was sardonic. Frank gave him a slight smile. Frustration at the thief’s arrogance had Abel leaning forward in his red leather desk chair pointing a finger at the chief. “I want this man caught, Frank, once and for all.” The chief nodded. “The first officers on the scene questioned your guests thoroughly. One of them remembered seeing a black SUV parked halfway down the block. We’ll canvas the neighborhood and see if anyone was seen in or around the vehicle. We sent your guests home, by the way.” His matter-of-fact cop voice irritated Abel further. Didn’t he realize the gravity of the situation?

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He, the D.A., had been violated! Tension knotted the muscles in his neck and shoulders. Abel reached for the crystal liquor decanter sitting on his desk and poured himself a drink. He tossed back two fingers of fifty-year-old scotch and let the smooth amber liquid slide down his throat. “Black SUV, huh? This guy’s like a shadow -- in and gone before anyone knows he’s been there.” “Except for tonight,” Frank said. Abel nodded. “Yeah. By the way, thanks for having your officers process the crime scene so quickly.” “No problem. I hope when your gardener wakes up, he’ll be able to tell us something.” Frank rose from his chair and walked over to the safe, then continued, “This is the way I figure it went down.” He gestured with one hand. “The gardener arranged to meet his housekeeper-girlfriend in the hallway outside the study. She told me the gardener must have gotten there early. He walks down the hall, hears a noise in the study and goes in to check. The perp was surprised, gave your gardener a good whack on the head, then split the scene.” Clenching his jaw, Abel stared at the open, half-empty safe on the west wall of his study. Fifty thousand in cash, a priceless coin collection, and Tess’s pendant had been taken a few hours ago during a dinner party. Left behind was an open safe with a single white feather. A sign of the Dove, the gentleman jewel thief. Frank tapped a pen against the palm of his left hand. “If the gardener hadn’t been having an ongoing romance with the housekeeper and been in the house tonight for a little slap and tickle between courses ...” Abel slumped back in his chair and loosened the red silk tie at his throat. “What the hell does it matter anyway? The Dove’s identity has never been revealed. No one has so much as caught a glimpse of the Dove in all his thieving years.” Frank studied the traces of fingerprint powder on the safe’s door. “It seems the Dove’s back after a ten-year absence. Why now?” Abel threw up a hand. “Who knows? But it has to be him.” “Maybe,” Frank murmured. “Maybe! Look, I admit no one has ever been hurt before during any of his thefts, but he left that damn feather. It’s the Dove’s signature.” He shook his head. Abel didn’t bother to hold back the harshness in his voice. “Whoever this guy is, I want him behind bars and my property returned.” Frank fixed him with an appraising look. “Calm down. It could be a copycat. Either way, we’ll catch the guy.” He walked back to his chair and sat down. After removing a small notepad from his front pocket, he flipped a page. “You’ve already given my officers a description of the stolen items but I have a few more questions.” Abel nodded and rubbed his throbbing temples.

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“When was the last time you opened the safe?” “A couple of weeks ago.” “Was anyone in the room with you?” “My sister-in-law, Tess.” “When was the last time you did an inventory of the contents?” “I don’t know exactly, it’s been a while.” “The reason I’m asking is because sometimes people forget what they’ve locked up.” Abel laid his hands on top of the desk and looked at Frank. “I have some bonds, stock certificates, the deed to this house and my -- well, just some personal items.” He didn’t want to tell Frank that he kept the original copy of his marriage certificate to Leann, as if it could ever bring her back. He had a reputation for being extremely tough and unbending when it came to the law and putting criminals behind bars. Revealing that bit of information to the chief might make him think he’d gone soft. Frank nodded. “Okay.” “All of those things are still in the safe. Obviously, the Dove wanted items he could liquidate in a hurry.” “Anyone have the combination to the safe besides you?” Abel took another sip of scotch. “My lawyer, just in case.” He heard the sound of his sister-in-law’s voice drift in from the hallway.

Tess. He rose from his desk as she walked into the room. Abel’s heart skipped a beat when he saw her. As always, he found himself drawn to Tess. Why was she able to come so close to affecting him like Leann? His wife had been the only woman who truly understood him. His heartache over his wife, Leann’s death in a car accident four years ago had consumed him to the point that he had lost all interest in women. He had thought he and Leann would have a lifetime together. He pushed away the surge of old grief nudging his heart. Then one chilly October day his brother introduced him to Tess, the woman he planned to marry. Abel had never envied anything his brother had ... until then. Tess wore a long, dark gray coat and had a matching shawl wrapped around her head. Snowflakes sprinkled both. “Tess, thank you for coming. How was the theater?” Her misty green gaze surveyed the damaged safe for a moment before she removed her coat and shawl. “It was great, thanks.” She looked at Abel. “I’m sorry I had to miss your party but I’d had the tickets for a while.”

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Her soft apology touched him. She wore an ivory suit with matching shoes. By the neat appearance of her dark brown hair twisted into a knot at the base of her neck, no one would ever guess she’d been running about in inclement weather. “Tess, this is Frank Palmera, the chief of police. Frank, my sister-in-law, Tess O’Brien. It was her pendant that was stolen.” Tess turned to Frank with a warm smile and shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. O’Brien.” Frank said. She was Ms. O’Brien now that his brother was dead, but Abel didn’t bother to correct him. His comment might embarrass Tess and hurt her. “Can I fix you a drink?” Abel asked, moving toward the bar caddy. Tess raised a hand. “I’ll do it.” She walked past him to the bar. The light scent of her perfume drifted smoothly through the air, reminding him how much he enjoyed having her in his house. She picked up the silver tongs beside the ice bucket and placed two small cubes into a glass barely making a sound. Tess had flawless taste right down to the perfect strand of pearls clasped about her neck. Her pale, porcelain skin was nearly the same color as the pearls. Exquisite. She poured a discreet amount of vodka into her glass then speared two olives sitting in a small dish by the liquor decanter. She tucked them between the cubes of ice then looked over at Frank and took a small sip. “Chief Palmera, I’d appreciate it if you would keep me informed of any leads you have.” “I’ll keep you informed, Tess,” Abel interrupted. Tess glanced at Abel. “That’s all right, Abel. You’ve got your hands full at the moment with that big murder case.” She looked back at Frank. “Would you mind if I called you directly?” Frank smiled. He stared at her as if she were an angel who’d just descended from heaven. As far as Abel was concerned, she was. “Not at all,” Frank said politely as he reached into his pocket and handed her a card. “Feel free to call anytime.” She took the card between her delicate, manicured fingers, glanced at it then lifted her eyes to Frank. “Thank you.” “Mrs. O’Brien, I’ll need you to verify ownership just for the record and we’ll need a photograph of the pendant as well. I’m assuming it was insured ... you’ll need to contact your insurance company first thing in the morning.” “Of course. The receipt and certificate of authenticity are in my safe deposit box. I’ll get them for you tomorrow.” “Thank you. Was there anything distinctive about the pendant that set it apart?”

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Tess smiled. “Yes, the stone’s color is pure white and it was set into a gold pendant fashioned in the shape of a dove. When I took it in a couple of weeks ago to have the setting checked, the jeweler noticed a tiny dove inscribed inside one of the prongs. He said it was probably a jeweler’s mark. He took a picture of it and I sent it along to my insurance company.” “Okay, just one more thing. Why did you keep your pendant here instead of at your home or a bank?” Frank asked. “I didn’t keep it here,” Tess explained in a quiet voice. “I kept it in a safe deposit box but had just moved it to Abel’s house so I could have the setting checked. I plan to wear it to the Carousel of Hope Ball next month.” She glanced over at the safe. “No one knew it was here except for Abel and me.” “Are you certain of that? Did you mention it to anyone before you moved it from the bank?” “I called my insurance company to make sure it was okay. I had to add an additional rider to the policy while the pendant was away from the bank.” “Did anyone else know it was here? A friend, perhaps?” Tess frowned and looked at the chief. “I might have mentioned it to someone; I don’t remember. You don’t think one of my friends could have had something to do with it?” “People steal for all kinds of reasons, Mrs. O’Brien. Even friends.”

***** After the chief and household staff left, Abel kicked off his shoes and stretched his legs out in front of him. He watched Tess standing by the window looking out at the snow, her index finger tapping absently against the side of her glass. He looked at the slope of her small shoulders and wondered where she’d found the courage to assume all of the responsibilities thrust upon her after his brother’s death. For that and a hundred other reasons, he admired her. “Tell me about your day.” She took another sip of her drink and looked at him in an absent way as if she just remembered he was there. “Busy.” He hated the thought of her working in a department store for slave’s wages. “Why do you insist on continuing with that job when I know my brother must have left you financially secure?” She glanced at him, then back out of the window. “I need to feel useful and earn some money of my own. Besides, it’s fun. I enjoyed helping men pick out a special Valentine’s gift today for their wives or girlfriends.” Here was his opportunity. Abel stood and walked to her side. A strand of hair had fallen across her cheek. She looked utterly charming and he had to clench his hand to keep

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from brushing it aside. “Tess, Valentine’s Day is a little over three weeks away. I was wondering if I could take you out to dinner.” She raised her eyes and studied him a moment while a smile trembled over her full mouth. “Thank you, Abel.” Just like that, she reached out and brushed a lock of his black hair from his forehead. The tips of her fingers felt warm and oh so soft where they lingered on his skin. A spurt of happiness pulsed through him. The breath caught in his throat like a teenager. Oh, God, let her say yes. “That’s very kind.” She removed her hand and he wanted to pull her fingers back to his face but he kept his hands firmly at his sides. She glanced away as if looking into the past. “I don’t know if I feel like going out this year. I didn’t last year or the year before that. I know Quinn’s been gone for four years and I need to start getting out more ... but it’s still rather hard without him in my life.” She looked up at him. “I hope you understand.” Abel pushed away the heavy feeling of jealousy. He damn well didn’t understand. She had no problem helping strangers select special gifts for their loved ones but she refused to even have dinner with him. He tamped down his disappointment and smiled. “Of course, but if you change your mind ...” “You’ll be the first to know.” She put down her drink and reached for her coat and shawl. “Stay for a while. We were just about to have dessert when the maid screamed the house down. The cook made raspberry tarts.” “Thanks, but I’m exhausted. Besides, the last thing I need at ten o’clock at night is a rich dessert.” Tess placed the shawl over her head and Abel helped her with her coat. He felt the warmth from her body and wished with everything inside him that he could wrap his arms around her just for a moment. “Next time, then.” She turned around and pulled the front of her coat together. “Okay, next time.” He walked her to the door and opened it. A rush of bitter wind blew in with a swirl of snow. The thought of her being involved in a traffic accident scared the daylights out of him. “The roads are probably icy. Let me drive you home.” Tess walked out into the snowy night and headed down the front steps. “I’ll be fine,” she called over her shoulder. “I have a four-wheel drive, remember?” Abel looked at the dark green truck parked in the driveway. She should be driving a Mercedes or BMW, not a truck. He waved at her as she pulled away from the house. He flipped the lock on the front door, turned off the lights, and headed upstairs to bed. The only thing sweeter than having Tess look at him with love in her eyes might be catching and convicting the Dove.

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***** When he saw her standing in the bright light of the store window his heart jolted quick and hard. Detective Nicholas Morelli stepped beneath the maroon and gold striped awning over the storefront and out of the bitter wind to get a closer look. He raked a hand through the thick mane of wavy, honey-colored hair he’d inherited from his father and drank her in. She wasn’t very tall. A cloth wrapped sensuously around her graceful body discreetly covered her femininity but exposed one generous breast to his gaze. Her eyes were halfclosed and a mysterious smile curved her perfectly shaped lips as if she held a secret deep inside her. He could almost feel the breeze blowing around her, molding the cloth to the curves of her body and ruffling the curls of her flowing hair. With one arm draped over her head and the other bent at the elbow, she held an urn propped on her shoulder. The planter would be perfect for the new variety of Pellaea rotundifolia, round leaf fern, he’d been cultivating in his greenhouse. He doubted he could afford the planter on his cop’s salary, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask. It would also give him an opener when he questioned the owner. Two days had passed since the theft that had occurred at the D.A.’s house. Today the department received an anonymous tip that this particular shop, Benedict Antiquities, in Lodo, lower downtown Denver, might have been involved. He was here to ask discreet questions in hopes of gathering new information about the robbery. Nick opened the door. A bell tinkled overhead and he stepped inside. He briefly scanned the interior, cluttered with expensive furniture, paintings, and bric-a-brac for the well-heeled client -- which he wasn’t. Not seeing anyone, he strolled directly to the planter he’d seen in the window and knelt at her feet. He rested his right hand on the curve of her hip then let his fingers trail down her leg admiring the shape and patina of the stone as he went. “Beautiful, isn’t she?” A muscle twitched between Nick’s shoulder blades. He turned his head and looked up at the man standing barely a foot away. It wasn’t like him not to hear someone approach. The man had a face full of planes and angles. His amber-colored eyes danced with a salesman’s charm designed to lure the unsuspecting shopper to part with the cash in their wallet. “You’re light on your feet.” Nick stood from his spot on the floor. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” The man’s tone was apologetic. “No problem.” The man stepped forward and held out his hand. “How can I help you?”

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Nick shook his hand and felt the firmness of his grip along with the slightly rough ridge of callus on his palm. His hands weren’t the soft mitts of a man who spent his days selling antiques. Wonder what he did in his spare time? “You own the place?” “That’s right. Cullinan Benedict at your service.” Benedict gave him a charming smile, a smile that Nick had seen before in a newspaper photo he’d found in the course of his investigation of Benedict’s background. Other than the photo taken at the opening of the shop, Nick had found zip that he could use to connect Benedict with the theft. Nick turned and looked at the planter again. “How much?” Without batting an eye Benedict said, “Thirty-five hundred.” He should have known better than to even ask. That much cash would wipe out his savings. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to play the salesman’s game. He looked back at Benedict and fixed what he hoped was a blank expression on his face as if he didn’t care one way or the other. “Twenty-five hundred.” Benedict pursed his lips in a thoughtful expression and glanced at the planter then back at Nick as if he were sizing him up. “Because of the age and superior condition of the piece, not to mention the unusual patina of the glaze ... three thousand is the best I can do.” Damn. Too bad ... but if he made the patio smaller and cut back on the number of bedding plants ... maybe he could swing it. However, what about the new sprinkler system? Nick gave her one last yearning look. “I’ll think about it.” He turned back, looked at Benedict and cocked his head to the side. “I’m an amateur gardener.” He tried to sound amiable and hoped he succeeded. “I took this art course in college and remember seeing this painting of a woman holding a water jug.” He rubbed his chin for effect. He’d never attended college; instead, he’d gone to the police academy. Any knowledge he had of art was spotty at best. “Can’t remember the artist, though.” “Jean Dominique Ingres. The painting is called The Source. Nick snapped his fingers. “That’s it. Thanks.” He looked at Benedict. “So, any chance she might go on sale?” “Maybe.” Time to flash the tin. Nick pulled out his badge. “I’m Detective Morelli with the Denver Police Department. Mind if I ask you a few questions?” Benedict glanced at the badge, then back up at Nick. His friendly demeanor turned cool. “About what?” The phone rang. “Be right back.” Benedict walked toward the ringing phone. Nick studied a painting of a vase of flowers while he waited for Benedict to finish his call. When Benedict hung up, Nick walked over and stood in front of his large mahogany desk. A jade egg carved with Chinese figures sat on a gold stand on top of the desk. Three

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pure white stones were set into the jade. There was something about the egg, something familiar ... Nick gestured toward the egg. “Nice. Out of curiosity ... how much?” Benedict slumped back in his chair. “Not for sale. Belonged to my father. It’s been in my family for years.” His tone rang with annoyance. Man didn’t like cops. Wonder why? Then he remembered what he knew about the egg. The egg had been stolen from the Jenson collection at the Pittsburgh Museum years ago. Could the tip have been legit? Did Benedict buy it on the black market or steal it? “Really. Was your father in the antique business or just a collector?” A muscle tightened in Benedict’s jaw. “Collector.” Nick pulled a pad out of his jacket pocket along with a pen. “Would you mind telling me where you were on Saturday, January fifteenth, between seven and ten-thirty p.m.? Wariness lit Benedict’s eyes. “I was at home.” “Can anyone verify that? Did you talk to anyone on the phone that night? Did a friend or neighbor stop by?” “No. Why all these questions?” Nick smiled. “We’re working a case; it’s just routine. Know anything about jewelry?” “A bit.” Irritation laced Benedict’s tone as he straightened in his chair and leaned forward. “Are you in the market for some jewelry, Detective?” Nick shrugged. “You might say that. How do you go about locating a special piece?” His expression changed to pained tolerance. “First I find out exactly what the customer is looking for; then I start making phone calls, send a few e-mails to dealers I know. I also contact auction houses to see if they have any jewelry coming up for auction.” Nick nodded. “So, when jewelry is coming up for auction, what happens then?” Benedict’s lips thinned in exasperation. “I get a detailed description and a photo of the piece to show the customer.” “And after you show it to the customer?” Nick made a note on his pad. Benedict huffed out a heavy breath. “If they’re interested, on auction day, I offer to bid for them by phone,” he finished hurriedly and glanced at his watch. “I’m afraid it’s closing time unless you’d like to change your mind about the planter and take it home with you.” Nick turned, looked at her secret smile and shook his head. “I wish I could.” Just then, the shop’s door flew open and a woman breezed in. And not just any woman -- Hope Benedict, that pretty lawyer who was clawing her way up the ladder in the D.A.’s office. A little shiver of awareness caressed his spine. Her black hair was twisted into a knot at the base of her neck and a dark gray power suit covered her tall, lush body. Nice legs too. How was she related to Benedict, he wondered ... sister or wife?

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Her long gray coat fanned out behind her as she strolled forward, the fingers of one hand wrapped around the handle of a leather briefcase. She saw Benedict first, threw him a bright smile before her doe eyes rested on Nick. They were pale lilac and glimmered with recognition. “Hello, Detective, what brings you down here?” She had a wonderful low voice that resonated soft and clear. He imagined that same voice had probably filleted many defense attorneys. “Just happened to be in the neighborhood and saw something interesting in the window.” She walked over to Benedict and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Hi, big brother.” So, Benedict was her brother. Why did he feel relieved? There was no resemblance between them. Could one or both of them be adopted? “Hi yourself.” Benedict gave her a kiss on the cheek in return. “How was your day?” She signed, turned and hooked her arm through Benedict’s. “Lost a case. I was hoping we could have dinner.” “Sure.” She fixed her gaze on Nick. “I didn’t know you were interested in antiques, Detective.” “If the price is right.” He’d like to question Benedict further, but not with an A.D.A. present. “Nice to see you, Counselor.” He nodded toward Benedict. “Thanks for your time.” Nick turned and headed for the door. Police record or not, he’d eat his badge if Benedict was clean.

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Chapter Two As soon as the door closed behind Detective Morelli, Hope couldn’t help but let out a little sigh of appreciation while her pulse settled to a more normal rhythm. Cullinan laughed. “You think he’s hot.” “Don’t be ridiculous.” She said the words with little conviction. “Eye candy, that’s all.” A woman would have to be blind or immune to the intense attraction of Morelli’s dreamy gray eyes, full, sexy mouth, and more than six feet of solid muscle. Not to mention that head of thick, wavy hair she wanted to run her fingers through. A ripple of anxiety crept around the edges of her amorous thoughts. What was he doing here? She tossed her briefcase carelessly onto the seat of a Duncan Phyfe chair. “Okay, tell me everything. What did he want?” Cullinan strolled over to a coat rack sitting in the corner behind his desk and reached for his jacket. “He asked about the Jenson egg, wanted to know about Dad, asked a few questions about jewelry.” Her anxiety built, gnawing away at her composure. “And?” Hope propped one hip on the edge of Cullinan’s desk. He removed a suede jacket from the coat rack, slung it over his shoulder, and turned. “Then you walked in.” “You heard about the robbery at Abel’s house, right?” She ran the tip of her index finger over the carved surface of the jade egg and the three white stones embedded in its surface. Why did he have to keep this damn egg at the shop for everybody to see including the detective who just left? She returned her attention to Cullinan. He grinned at her. “Of course. It’s all over the burglary gossip vine.”

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A chill raced over her skin as a sudden thought entered her brain. “Oh, my God. Morelli suspects you. That’s why he came in here asking all those questions!” Cullinan walked over and draped an arm around her shoulders. “You worry too much.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze and winked at her. “Let’s go eat. I’m starved.” Exasperated, Hope pulled out of his embrace, stood up from the desk, and faced him. “This is serious. I’ve heard a lot about Morelli. He has a solid arrest record, he’s honest to a fault, and the man never quits. I’ve known who he was for a while but we’ve never really connected involving a particular case. My case load is mostly homicide, but I can ask around and see if I can find out more about the investigation.” She raised her hand and tapped her index finger against her lower lip in thought, then shifted her gaze to Cullinan. “I bet he thinks the Dove is back in circulation.” “Why would he think that?” His indulgent tone irritated her. She wanted to smack him. Hope tilted her head to the side and studied him. Her next statement should jar him out of his mental apathy. “A white feather was left behind at the crime scene.” Cullinan’s congenial demeanor faded into a serious expression. “Really.” His tone was reflective. “No mention of it in the paper.” “Abel wants to keep that part of the case quiet.” She lifted her briefcase from the chair. “I wonder if this is a random theft by someone impersonating the Dove or something far more serious.” Her voice trailed away. Would this theft eventually lead to the Dove’s secret being revealed? She shuddered to think of that happening. Her father would turn over in his grave if it became public. Cullinan shrugged, his expression changing back to indifference. “So what if they are?” Hope laid a hand on his arm. “How can you be so cavalier?” Her voice rose. “You of all people should care about Dad and the mission he worked toward completing practically his whole life.” She sure as hell did especially after ... She pushed back the weariness of sadness and guilt that threatened to dampen her mood even further. His lips thinned as his amber gaze shifted to hers. “Of course I cared about Dad, but he’s gone, Hope.” His voice was cool. “Now his unfinished mission is up to me. Whoever left that feather behind can’t possibly know the truth.” He gestured with his hand. He put on his jacket, walked over to the front door and flipped the sign hanging in the door’s window to closed. Hope stood where she was with her arms folded over her chest. “Okay. Would you like a list of the stolen items?” Cullinan looked at her briefly as he turned a key in the door’s main interior lock. “What does it matter?” “Besides some cash and a few bonds, they stole a pendant, a very rare and expensive pendant.” She used her courtroom voice, the one she implemented during opening remarks

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in a new case. “A piece that is worth more intact than it would be if the stone was removed from the setting and sold separately.” Cullinan finished locking up. He walked to a set of switches on the wall and turned a couple of knobs dimming the interior lights. “It might have even hung around Marie Antoinette’s neck before the French citizenry led her to the guillotine and --” She made a slashing motion across her throat. “You think it could be the pendant?” Hope shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe.” “We’ve found at least half a dozen forgeries over the years. Just because the pendant might have been worn by Marie Antoinette doesn’t really mean anything. I’m sure she owned a lot of jewelry.” “You’re right, but guess who the pendant belonged to?” She varied the pitch of her voice only slightly. Cullinan walked to her side. “Abel’s late-wife?” Hope straightened the collar of her coat and looked him in the eye. “Try former sisterin-law.” He frowned. “It was Tess’s pendant? Why would she keep it at Abel’s?” “She kept it there temporarily while the setting was being checked. Abel convinced Tess no one could access his safe.” Cullinan raked a hand through his mink-colored hair and was silent for a moment. He exhaled a heavy sigh and stared across the darkened shop. Hope listened to the faint ticking of a few clocks in the shop along with the moaning wind outside as it buffeted the store windows. She cared so much for her brother and wanted to protect him and his secret any way she could. But what if she wasn’t there for him when he really needed her? She hadn’t been there for her father and he ended up ... dead. “Only someone did access the safe.” Cullinan’s quiet words interrupted her thoughts. “But why Abel’s house? Why rob the D.A .? They would have to know he’d be after them with everything he had.” Hope sighed. “Yes, it’s odd. Someone must have known the pendant was in the safe and stole it for a specific reason. Greed? To get back at Abel? God knows, he’s helped send enough criminals to jail.” She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear as another thought occurred to her. “Or did they steal it for a much higher purpose?” “Maybe they stole it to prove a point with Abel and never had any intention of selling it.” Cullinan shrugged. “We could speculate forever. We don’t even know if it is the pendant ... Besides, no one knows of its existence except us, remember?” A terrible fear shuddered through Hope’s body. “What if someone else did know about the pendant and its power? What then?”

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Cullinan shook his head. “Impossible. Only those of us in the order know about the pendant.” Hope pushed her fear away. “You’re right. The thief must have had inside information about the safe’s contents, but according to Abel, he was the only one who knew the pendant was in the safe.” Cullinan turned and stared at Hope. “Except Tess.” Loyalty to her best friend rose up inside her. “You don’t believe that Tess arranged to have her own pendant stolen, do you?” Cullinan shook his head. “No. Maybe the connection we’re looking for doesn’t have to do with Abel but with Tess.” “What are you saying?” “I’m saying that maybe she confided this information to someone close to her, besides you. You knew Tess’s pendant was at Abel’s, right?” Hope stopped to button her coat and lowered her head, avoiding his question. Cullinan tilted her chin up with the tip of his finger. “You did know the pendant was there.” She shook her head. “No, I didn’t. I knew she had --” She bit off the words she was about to utter and continued fastening her coat. Cullinan dropped his hand to his side. “You knew she had what?” “Never mind, Tess swore me to secrecy.” Her brother scowled at her. “Sometimes secrets have a way of coming out and stabbing you right in the heart.” He snapped out the words with bitterness. Regret gripped Hope deep inside, making her wish she could take back her words. She laid a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. Please ... let’s not dig up that old ground.” Cullinan curved his mouth into a fake, but pleasing smile, one he’d perfected over the years as a way of hiding his true feelings. Only Hope knew him too well. “Water under the bridge.”

Water under the bridge, my foot, Hope thought. She was too tired to hash it out tonight. Cullinan opened the back door. A gust of frigid wind danced inside, bringing sleet along with it. The bits of ice hit Hope’s face like tiny pinpricks. She shivered against the cold. Hope reached for a pair of leather gloves she had shoved into her coat pocket, put them on, and looked outside. Street lamps glowed along the narrow street that ran behind the store. The sleet had begun to coat the asphalt in a layer of white. “I have to be careful about asking too many questions because Abel might get suspicious.” Had the tense moment passed? She never liked being at odds with her brother. He was the only family she had left. “Maybe you could talk to some of your old contacts, see if anybody knows anything.” The wind nearly took her breath.

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After Cullinan set the alarm and secured the back door, they headed for his black SUV. “I’ll ask around, I promise.” Sleet, as white as the feathers the Dove used to leave behind after a theft, crunched under Hope’s boots. It made her think of her father and the search that had consumed his life. Her temper flared. “Whoever this person is, I want them found.” She gave her head a little shake. “Abel said the thief damaged the safe door. Obviously he didn’t know beans about cracking a safe.” Cullinan grinned as he opened the passenger door for her. “You miss it, don’t you?” They were back on solid footing again. Hope returned his smile and shrugged. “A little,” she murmured as she climbed inside the freezing truck. Yeah, she missed it ... more than she cared to admit.

***** The next morning, Nick rapped on the door to the district office of the chief of detectives, John Ruly. He heard a loud “Come in” echo from inside. All around him, phones rang incessantly and a myriad of voices blended with the sound of a radio playing country music. As Nick opened the door, Chief Ruly cursed softly and gave his left hand a couple of quick shakes. Nick saw a coffee stain spreading over the cuff of the chief’s pristine white shirt. He shut the door and shrugged out of his leather jacket. The chief turned, gave him a brief glance, then mopped at the stain on his shirt with a napkin. “Morelli.” His greeting was delivered in his usual brisk manner. “Have a seat.” Chief Ruly had the voice of a veteran smoker; deep and raspy with a little grating sound around the edge of it. “Just wanted to give you an update on the D.A.’s case,” Nick said as he walked to a chair sitting in front of the chief’s desk and sat down. The chief added more coffee to his cup, then dumped in several packets of sugar and gave it a couple of stirs with a plastic spoon. “Good. Chief Palmera has already called me twice today and it’s not even noon. He’s like a stray dog gnawing at a T-bone.” Nick noticed a few files stacked around the perimeter of the desk. Photos of the chief’s wife and kids were jammed in between the phone, a bobble-head doll of Rockies baseball player Todd Helton, and a cheap desk lamp. The lamp’s green shade sported a couple of small blisters from the light bulb’s heat. The chief turned from the coffee pot and slurped some coffee through his thin lips. He wore dark blue slacks with a black leather belt that hung a little loose around his thin waist. A navy-blue tie loosened at his throat emphasized the bulge of his Adam’s apple. His silver and gold badge, pinned to the front pocket of his shirt, glimmered in the light.

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After shuffling to his green metal desk, the chief set the cup down on top of the desk blotter. He pulled out his desk chair, sat down and looked at Nick with a pair of shrewd blue eyes. “I picked you to handle this case because you’re a damn good cop with an excellent record.” One corner of his mouth curved up. “Your only drawback is your pretty boy looks,” he teased in a wry tone. Nick winced inwardly. He’d heard it a thousand times. He was aware that one of the most desirable attributes in a detective was to appear physically average and inconspicuous. His looks had definitely been a detriment to his chosen field. He’d had to work harder to push himself ahead of the other candidates in the selection process. The chief was right. If it hadn’t been for his solid record, he wouldn’t have been culled from the ranks of patrol officers. “Get solid evidence so we can make an arrest,” the chief continued. “The sooner we close this case, the sooner my boss will start sniffin’ in another direction. Now, what have you got?” Nick was required to give his boss an update on every aspect of the case no matter how trivial, per request from the chief of police, Frank Palmera. “First, I went by to see the gardener who was injured during the theft.” Nick frowned, remembering the sight of his old friend and gardening mentor, Sam, lying in a sterile hospital bed with tubes sticking out of him and a sickly pallor covering his tanned skin. The chief took another sip of his coffee. “Yeah, how’s he doing?” Nick rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “He’s out of the coma, but he’s still too doped up to talk.” “Too bad. Find out anything from that antique place down in Lodo?” At the mention of the antique shop, instead of thinking of Cullinan Benedict, Nick’s first thought was of Benedict’s sister, Hope, with her pretty eyes and long legs. He smiled. “What’s so funny?” Nick sat up straight, feeling foolish that the chief had caught him thinking about Hope Benedict. He shook his head. “Nothing. Benedict, the owner of the shop, was friendly at first until I showed him my badge. I saw a jade egg in his shop that I know was stolen. He claimed it belonged to his father.” Nick paused, pursing his lips in thought. “Guy’s got no arrest record, but I don’t think he’s clean. He’s too young to be the Dove, but he might be a copycat because the style of burglary coupled with someone being hurt wasn’t the Dove’s usual M.O.” A copy cat would make it harder for him to find the real Dove. “It could be the Dove’s come out of retirement and when he got caught in the act, he panicked.” “Keep digging ... Find out who Benedict’s friends are, his relatives, anybody who might know something.”

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An image of Hope standing next to her brother looking at Nick with those cool, violet eyes flashed into his mind again. “He has a sister. Met her last night when she came into the shop.” He paused for a couple of beats. “Get this, she’s an A.D.A.” The chief leaned back in his chair and raised his brows. “No kidding. A suspect whose sister is a prosecutor.” He quickly moved forward when the phone on his desk rang. “Keep on it, Morelli.” He reached for the receiver, a clear signal the meeting was over. Nick grabbed his jacket, slipped it on and left the chief’s office. Outside the temperature hovered around fifteen degrees. Traffic moved slowly along Cherokee Street, the road still slick from last night’s storm. The frigid air stung the back of his throat with each inhalation and his breath huffed out in puffs. He couldn’t wait for spring so he could get started on his new landscaping project. Nick prayed that Sam would be fully recovered by then and they could work on it together. He walked straight to his unmarked Ford Mustang, climbed inside and cranked the engine. As the car’s heater pumped out warm air, he reached for the cell phone in his pocket. Nick punched the speed dial button for the D.A.’s office. He needed to get close to Hope to learn as much as he could about her brother. At least that’s what he told himself when he picked up the phone and dialed. “Hope Benedict.” When he heard her voice, the same shiver he’d felt race down his spine when he’d seen her in the antique shop happened again, only stronger this time. A quiver he hadn’t felt for a woman in a long time. It made him uncomfortable. “Hello, Hope. This is Nick Morelli.” There was a short pause on the other end of the line. He could hear a soft intake of breath before she spoke. “Detective, what can I do for you?” Nick settled against the back of the car seat. “What are you doing for dinner?” He tried to sound casual. “Ordering in ...” “I know this great little place near Washington Park.” He purposely ignored her statement. He’d learned patience over the years from handling stakeouts, relentless court proceedings and brutal cross-examinations. One reluctant A.D.A. was a piece of cake compared to that. “It’s quiet, the food’s not bad. You’ll be home by nine. What do you say?” He felt her smile through the phone line. “How long have you been a detective?” “A few years, why?” “Your skills at handling people are sharply honed.” “I’m not trying to handle you, Hope.” “Let me put it another way ... what do you want?” “A chance to get to know you better.”

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There was a prolonged silence while Nick waited for her to answer. “Why?” Her voice was crisp and lawyerly. “I’m investigating your brother and I’d like to have the opinion of someone who really knows him.” “Oh.” She drug out the word. “For a minute I thought you were asking me out on a date.” He shook his head. She was on to him, no doubt about it. So be it. He planned to pump her for information about her brother. Period. This was business and had nothing to do with how good she looked or how sexy her voice sounded. Besides, he loved a good cat and mouse game. “I don’t think you and I going on a date is a good idea since your brother is a suspect in a crime. I just thought you might enjoy a friendly dinner.” “If all you want is information, why not drop by the office?” she suggested sweetly. He smiled slightly at her question. “My case load is backed up and I don’t have very much time during the day.” He listened to another moment of silence before she spoke. “Okay, tell me where and when.” “Chez Morelli.” “Your house?” Her tone was surprised. “Yeah, you have a problem with that?” “No. Should I?” Nick chuckled and gave her directions. “I’ll see you at six. Sharp.”

***** Hope hung up the phone, slumped back in the chair behind her desk and smiled. She’d been trying to figure a way to get more information from Morelli concerning the burglary case and his investigation of Cullinan. The sneaky devil had dumped the opportunity right in her lap. Morelli thought he would reel off a bunch of questions about Cullinan and she would just fall in line ... not a chance. Two could play at this game.

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Chapter Three Tess parked her SUV in front of Benedict Antiquities and cut the engine. She sat for a moment with the weak winter sun streaming in through her car windows. The slight warmth of the rays caressed her neck, shoulders and face. She listened to the muffled sounds of the traffic as vehicles lumbered along the street, ice and snow scattering beneath their tires as they rolled past. Slowly, she turned her head and looked through the storefront window of Cullinan’s shop. A spurt of anger at the man inside the store darted through her veins, but, determined to remain calm, she soothed it away. She had learned to face many challenges over the past couple of years. They had been far from easy, but finding her own identity and making a new life for herself was part and parcel of her plan for the future. Tess leaned her head back against the headrest on the car seat and sighed. Who the hell was she anyway? She didn’t have a clue. All she knew was that she had a long way to go before she could truly stand on her own two feet. When she’d met and married Quinn, he’d been a gregarious man and had helped her build her social skills so now she was able to converse with people she hardly knew with comfort. The biggest challenge she’d faced had been being left alone. She’d gone from being cared for by her parents to being taken care of by Quinn. Then suddenly, she found herself on her own. She’d refused to go running back to her parents although they had offered. After that horrible day when the Twin Towers in New York City crashed down, the whole world seemed to take a collective breath. Her husband had been one of those people unable to escape the calculated destruction perpetrated by the terrorists. Nothing would ever be the same again.

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Then she’d found herself caught in a current of events that moved slowly at first, like a leaf floating in a stream. There had been so many things to take care of, notifying friends and family about what had happened to Quinn, planning the memorial service and taking condolence calls. Despite the funds that paid out significant amounts of money to the families of victims of the Twin Towers tragedy, nearly all of what she had received was used to settle Quinn’s estate, which was encumbered with debt. Her job at the department store helped put food on her table until she could gather the money to start her own jewelry design business. Tess looked at the store window again. She grabbed her purse and climbed out of the car. Now she had yet another hurdle to face. Only this one was different, harder in some ways, because it burst a bubble of illusion about Cullinan she’d reluctantly held on to for years. She’d learned since Quinn’s death that you had to face your demons no matter how hurtful or scary they were. The one she faced now only added to the pain. Along with the pain, a scalding anger at Cullinan suffused her body, an anger she was determined to hold in check. When she opened the door to the shop, she didn’t see Cullinan; she heard only his voice wafting up from the back of the store. The sound made something clench in her chest. She swallowed hard against a sudden lump growing in her throat.

Don’t let him get to you. Think of what he’s done instead. Tess had deliberately waited until the end of the day to come by and talk to him. She wanted no one else to hear what she had to say. Only then could she turn and walk away from Cullinan Benedict for the second time in her life -- this time for good. Tess heard footsteps moving up from the back of the store. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders as if preparing to do battle. In a way she was. A battle with Cullinan, as much as with herself. When Cullinan saw her, he stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes -- eyes that she knew the exact shape and color of -- fixed on hers. Surprise and affection swept over his face and his sexy mouth lifted into a smile. He touched the customer who was with him on the arm, said something, then started toward her. Cullinan didn’t stop until he was close, close enough for her to smell his skin, see the familiar wave in his hair, the laugh lines around his golden eyes. A mixture of tenderness, heartache and gall raced through her blood, but she refused to let him crawl under her skin, not after what he’d done. “Tess.” Cullinan’s achingly familiar voice washed over her. “It’s good to see you.” He started to move toward her as if to give her a kiss on the cheek, but that she couldn’t bear. She stepped back instead. “This isn’t a social call.”

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Cullinan frowned slightly. “Okay, just give me a minute to finish up with this customer and we’ll talk.” He turned and strolled over to his desk. She watched him walk across the room, the dark brown slacks shifting over his legs and body, a body still as solid as it had always been. She couldn’t help but notice the movement of muscle beneath his white shirt, the confident ease with which he held himself. She’d never felt that kind of confidence, not really, not even with Quinn telling her through all their years of marriage that she should hold her head up high and be proud of who she was. Tess shook away her thoughts and spent the next few minutes just walking aimlessly through the shop, unable to focus her attention on any of the pretty things in the store. When she heard the bell tinkle over the door, she quickly headed back up front. Cullinan stood next to his desk waiting for her. “Have a seat.” He motioned to the chair the customer had just vacated. Suddenly, Tess was furious. How could he be so casual knowing how he had betrayed her? How could he stand there looking gorgeous and relaxed when she was on the verge of coming unglued? How could he look at her without the slightest hint of guile in his eyes? God, she wanted to scream at him, but she was determined to address him rationally about his little stunt. She inhaled a deep breath and tried to remember the lessons that Quinn had taught her about dealing with people. He used the same strategies during social functions that he used running his investment banking firm. He taught her how to make people feel at ease, how to cover up one’s own annoyance, how to smooth ruffled feathers. Instead of sitting in the chair behind his desk, Cullinan propped his tall, lean body against his desk and gripped the edge with his large hands. He stretched his legs out in front of him and looked at her. His penetrating gaze made her shift nervously in her chair. “You look wonderful,” he said lightly. “How many years has it been?” “Eight.” Eight years, four months, five days, seven hours and thirty-five minutes. She would never let him know how hard it was for her to sit here and look at him. Look at the man that she’d once loved, the man she’d given herself body, soul and heart to, only to have her feelings crushed in the revelation of a terrible secret. Cullinan folded his arms over his chest. “I’m sorry about Quinn.” His voice was soft and sincere ... Briefly, she looked down at her hands and laced her fingers together so they wouldn’t tremble with barely suppressed anger. “I got your note a few days after the memorial service.” Her deceptively composed voice belied the turmoil of feelings rushing through her. She raised her eyes to meet his. “Thank you.” “I would have flown to New York to give you some moral support but I didn’t think you’d want me there.”

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Her stomach knotted at his words. Oh, she’d wanted him there. She’d wanted him there to hold her, comfort her. She’d wanted him there more than she’d wanted to take her next breath. Even though Quinn had been aware of her lingering feelings for Cullinan from the beginning, no way would she have asked him to rush to her side. Quinn wouldn’t have liked it. She had loved her husband very much, but there was a piece of her heart that would always belong to Cullinan. “No, I didn’t want, or need you there.” He lifted his chin slightly and inhaled as if shocked by her statement, then carefully he covered his face in a neutral expression. “You said this wasn’t a social call. Why are you here?” Tess experienced a perverse pleasure in knowing that he had been surprised, maybe even hurt by her words. She straightened in her chair and pulled the hem of her white cashmere sweater down over the waistband of her matching slacks. “I want to talk to you about my pendant that was stolen ...” She was intent upon remaining calm even as her anger threatened to burst. “I’m assuming Hope told you about it.” He nodded. “Yeah, she did. I’m sorry. What about it?” She pressed her lips together in an effort to hold back her fury. It was easy for her to do that with other people, but not with Cullinan. He plucked ruthlessly at her emotions, emotions she’d thought she had buried. “That pendant was Quinn’s last gift to me. It was also my nest egg.” Cullinan’s brows rose up his forehead. “Your nest egg? Why would you need a nest egg?” She didn’t want to tell him the truth but she had to. Tess had to make him understand how despicable his actions had been. She looked him straight in the eye, ready to catch him at the first sign he might try to weasel out. “I plan to start my own jewelry design business. I have a job, but it will take time to save the money for my new venture.” She sighed. “I never really intended to sell the pendant, but I liked knowing it was there ... in case I needed it.” “In case you needed it? Surely Quinn left you set for life ...” Surprise colored his voice. “The man was worth millions. Besides, what about all the funds that were set up for the victims’ families?” Tess stared at the six-carat diamond wedding set on her left hand. Whatever happened, she never wanted to sell her ring. It had belonged to Quinn’s mother. She raised her head and looked at Cullinan. “After Quinn’s death, I met with the accountants ... and discovered the truth that Quinn had been hiding from me.” She paused and thought about how ashamed Quinn would be if he knew she was about to reveal his secret. He had never wanted anyone to know, not even her. Tess groaned inwardly at how so many dirty little secrets had affected her life. “He was heavily in debt and I didn’t have a clue,” she continued in a hollow tone. “Quinn took care of all our finances. After I paid off the debts, the only money I had left was a small savings

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account. Thankfully, I had squirreled that money away during our marriage. And of course ... I had the pendant.” An understanding seemed to dawn on his face along with a flicker of hurt. The comprehension she understood, but not the hurt. Why should he be hurt? She was the injured party here. Then he grinned at her. That same Cullinan smile had charmed her, had made her fall head over heels in love with him, had lured her into his bed on their second date. “The shop did very well last year. I’ll be glad to loan you some money.” Shocked at his statement, Tess’s mouth dropped open. “You think I came here for money?” “You mean you didn’t?” All those years of learning how to control her irritation dissolved into thin air. Quinn hadn’t been a demonstrative man. He held his emotions in check and he’d taught her to do the same. Somehow, Cullinan yanked her indignation out from its hiding place. Anger bubbled to the surface like lava. She shot up from her chair and clenched her hands into tight fists at her sides. “Don’t play games with me, Cullinan.” She didn’t bother to keep the harsh tone out of her voice. “I want to know why you stole my pendant!” His expression hardened as if his face had turned into marble. Slowly, he stood from his position against the edge of the desk, drew himself up to his full height and glared at her. “What did you say?” His voice was dangerously soft. “You heard me!” He shook his head and laughed in a bitter, mocking sound. “I can’t believe you said that!” “I never thought you capable of hurting anyone, but you must have been really desperate when you got caught and hurt that poor man,” she said, ignoring his statement. With one long stride, he stood next to her, toe to toe. His breath blew over her lips and for one second she remembered vividly what it was like to have him kiss her. Her heart thudded erratically in her chest and her pulse pounded through her veins at the sheer anger she saw emanating from his eyes. “First of all, I didn’t steal your damn pendant or hurt that man.” He ground out the words between clenched teeth. “Second, I’ve never been ashamed that I stole for a living. I always saw my ability as a God-given talent, one that shouldn’t be wasted. Besides, I stole from only the ultra rich just as Dad taught me and donated a portion of the profits to charity.” Amazed at his bold statement, she sucked in a breath of air. “Oh, and that makes committing a crime okay?” His lips thinned in irritation. “You never saw my profession as anything more than that, did you?”

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“No!” He raised a brow and cocked his head to one side. “What about Hope? She’s just as guilty as I am,” he stated in a cold, exact voice, “but your friendship has never wavered. Why?” Tess swallowed hard and stared into his amber eyes. “I was never in love with Hope. Besides, she got out. She turned her life around and became an attorney.” She poked a finger against his chest. “Now she puts people like you behind bars.” He grabbed her hand. Despite her anger, awareness shot up her arm and into her chest. How could she still be attracted to him after what he’d done? Tess tried to pull her hand from his grip, but he held on. Slowly, he rubbed the pad of his thumb over the center of her palm, sending darts of warmth all through her body with that one single touch. His gaze skimmed her face, then settled on her mouth. “How can you believe I would do that? Hell, I didn’t even know you kept anything of value at Abel’s house.” Once again, Tess tried to pull her hand away but failed. Little tingles had begun to dance over her breasts and stomach. “A white feather was left behind.” Her voice was breathless and she cursed herself for revealing just how much he affected her. “Your father, the real Dove, is dead. That leaves you and Hope. Hope would never steal from me. But you might.” His thumb continued its sensual caress causing a languid feeling to settle over her body. She tried to shake away the stupor he was creating and focus on her own words. “You’ve obviously decided to pick up where your father left off. The only thing I can’t figure out is why after all these years and why my pendant?” She watched as icy fury blanketed his face. He dropped her hand from his grip and raked a hand through his hair, mussing the familiar strands. Her skin tingled from his touch and the strokes of his thumb over her palm. After a moment, he fixed her with a penetrating gaze. “For the last time, I didn’t steal your damn pendant!” His shout echoed through the shop. Hurt suffused her heart and body. How could he stand there and lie to her like this? “I don’t believe you. The least you could do is admit what you’ve done especially after I confessed the truth to you about my finances.” Cullinan threw his hands up in the air then let his arms drop to his sides. “I’m not admitting a damn thing, especially to something I didn’t do. But right now I don’t care if you believe me or not ... the fact is I didn’t steal your pendant ...” She wanted to believe him, she wanted to, down to the bottom of her soul, but she refused to allow his charm, his calculated act to turn her attention in another direction. “You’re the son of a very famous jewel thief.” She desperately tried to calm herself. “People like you have connections. Besides, Hope told me how your father used to scope out certain areas. He talked to housekeepers and gardeners; he took odd jobs working for

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plumbers and electricians so he could gain access to some of these houses in order to find out where their valuables were hidden.” “And you think I did the same thing?” His voice was thin and hollow. Tess paused, taking a deep breath then releasing it. “Maybe.” Cullinan laughed bitterly and waved a hand through the air. “Oh, right. I can see it now. I knock on the door and say, ‘Hi, Mr. District Attorney, mind if I look around for any jewels you might have hidden in the place?’” “Hope knew I had the pendant but she didn’t know I had it over at Abel’s.” Tess plowed ahead, ignoring his sarcasm. “I don’t know how ... but you found out it was there.” He took one step closer to her, his gaze boring into hers. “Are you finished?” “No.” She stared at him, at the man who not so long ago had filled her life with passion and joy. How had everything that was so good and right about their relationship been twisted into something so wrong? “Why did you do it, Cullinan?” Her voice trembled. “For revenge because I walked away from you and married Quinn? Was that the reason?” Cullinan abruptly turned away and paced over to the window behind his desk. With his hands on his hips, he looked out at the beautiful, cold day. “I was never after revenge.” His words were soft and quiet ... “You made your choice and I had to live with it. We both moved on with our lives. Besides, I have better things to do than steal jewelry from my old lovers. It’s not my style.” “Why won’t you just tell me the truth?” She choked on her words. He turned and looked at her. “I am telling you the truth; you just don’t want to believe me.” His voice was tired and resigned. “Now, I want you to get something through your thick skull. I quit after Dad died. Later on I opened this shop.” He moved one of his shoulders in a half shrug. “I admit I’ve lifted a few things now and again just to keep my skills sharp, but everything you see in here is legit.” When she started to speak, he held up his hand. “Hope went to law school and now she’s a respected attorney in the D.A.’s office.” He glared at her, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I would do nothing to jeopardize her reputation, least of all steal from you,” he finished in a scornful tone. Tess lifted her chin and licked her dry lips. “I know you would never do anything to hurt your sister, but every time you went out under the cover of darkness and stole something ... you hurt me. You hurt me repeatedly. You knew how I felt about honesty and integrity.” A sob tried to shove its way into her throat but she pushed it down. “The worst part of it was that I didn’t even know you were doing it.” Her voice trailed away in a husky whisper. “Until Hope told you.”

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Tess inhaled a deep breath in an effort to ease her shuddering heart and spent emotions. “If it weren’t for your father’s death, I would never have known. As sorry as I am for what happened ... I’m glad I found out.” His eyes filled with challenge. “Are you, Tess? Are you really glad that you found out?” He moved toward her. She waited until he stood next to her so she could look him in the eye and drink in his handsome face one last time. After today, she never expected to see him again. Whenever she and Hope got together, Tess made sure Cullinan was never around and to spare her feelings, Hope didn’t mention him. “Yes, because if she hadn’t I would have married you. We might have even had children before I found out. But you never had any intention of telling me, did you?” He shook his head and studied her for a moment. “No.” His voice was firm and she knew he meant it. “At least not until I was sure you were truly mine. Mine forever. Then no matter what, I would never have let you go.” “You wouldn’t have had a choice.” “There’s always a choice, Tess.” His low, confident tone made her pulse jump erratically. She stepped away, away from his powerful presence and the profound affect he had on her as a woman. Tess held out her hand. “Give me back my pendant and I’ll never breathe a word to anyone. I’ll tell the police the pendant was mailed to me anonymously.” With one fluid stride, he yanked her almost violently against him. Tess’s breath trembled in her lungs; her heart throbbed in breathless anticipation. She felt his muscles, his bones, his body heat press hard and rough over her breasts, stomach and thighs. She tried to pull away when she saw the intent in his eyes but he held her fast and firm. She gave her head a slight shake. “Cullinan ... don’t.” His focused gaze flicked momentarily from her mouth up to her eyes. “Don’t what? Don’t say I never stole from you? Don’t say I never betrayed you? Don’t say I still care about you?” He grasped her chin in one hand and tilted her head upward so she had no choice but to stare into his eyes. His fingers bit into her delicate skin. “Maybe this will convince you I don’t have your precious pendant.” He drove his lips over hers, subduing any chance she might have had to resist him. His lips and tongue explored, punished and persuaded. Despite her anger and the shock of his unexpected kiss, a fiery tumult of need careened through her blood. His other hand slipped beneath the hem of her sweater then pushed inside her slacks to squeeze her fanny. Warmth from his blatant caress sent hot ribbons of arousal burning deep inside her core. Then just as quickly the spiral of ecstasy Cullinan created ended when he rudely pushed her from his arms. She stood before him with unsatisfied want zipping through her

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body and buzzing in her ears. Her lips pulsed from his hard, uncompromising kiss while a fog of desire clouded her brain. With as much dignity as she could possibly muster, Tess straightened her shoulders. She wanted to believe him, but how could she when all the evidence pointed directly to him? Even as tears stung the backs of her eyes and the pain inside her soul intensified, she lifted her chin and looked him in the eye. “I’ll give you one week to turn yourself in and give me back my pendant. After that, I’m going straight to Abel. I’ll tell him everything.”

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Chapter Four Nick gave the pot of sauce sitting on his stove another stir and glanced at the clock. Nearly six-fifteen. He smirked. Figures she’d be late since he’d specifically said six. Anything to put him off guard but he was a seasoned cop with years of experience in the art of interrogation. She had almost as much experience being a prosecutor so the evening should prove to be very interesting. He turned down the flame under a large pot of water that was just starting to bubble. No use putting in the pasta until she got here. His dog, Metro, a large black Labrador, lay sprawled in the middle of the kitchen floor, his body twitching in the throes of some dream. Nick smiled, headed for the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of wine. The doorbell rang. Metro woke and scrambled to his feet. “Let the games begin,” Nick mumbled to himself placing the bottle of wine onto the black granite counter top beside the refrigerator. Metro barked twice and trotted out of the kitchen ahead of Nick into the hallway. Nick strolled to the front door where Metro stood growling in a low tone with his tail wagging and his nose pushed into the crack between the jamb and the door. He sniffed several times then lifted his large paw and gave the door a swipe. Nick smoothed a hand over the dog’s head. “Easy, boy.” He checked the peep hole then opened the door. Bitter cold wind rushed in, sweeping over his body. Metro bounded over the threshold onto the porch and pushed his muzzle into Hope’s stomach asking for attention, his tail whipping about in a wide circle. She smiled down at the dog and rubbed him vigorously while she murmured to him in the same voice adults used when they talked to babies. Metro laved her hand in turn with his big, pink tongue. “Metro, let the woman inside before she freezes.” Nick chuckled.

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Still smiling, Hope turned her attention from Metro to Nick. Even though the night was cold enough to freeze a man’s balls, Nick suddenly felt enveloped in warmth from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. Inwardly, he shook himself. What was that about? Keep your mind on the case, not her smile. Hope wore a long, dark coat buttoned up to her chin with a red muffler wrapped around her neck. In one glove-covered hand, she held a large white bag with thin plastic handles. “Sorry I’m late.” Her sexy voice skittered down his spine again, even stronger this time, but he brushed the feeling away. He opened the door wide “No problem. Come in.” Metro pushed ahead of her then moved his big body around facing the door. He had a silly grin plastered on his face and his entire body shook with excitement at having a guest. Hope stepped inside the house and brushed past Nick. She smelled like pure woman mingled with some subtle scent designed to drive a man wild. Good diversionary tactic. He refused to allow her feminine wiles to get to him. “I went home to change.” She gave him another smile and held up the bag. “Then I stopped for dessert.” Why did she have to say dessert? She looked like all the sweet temptation a man could stand. Her black hair was loose and windblown; the glossy strands tumbled about her shoulders and shone richly under the entryway light. He realized he’d never seen her with her hair down. It made her look less like a lawyer and more like a woman. Not good. Guilt crawled through his belly for noticing even though his wife, Rachel, had been gone for over two years. He welcomed the guilt. It would help keep his mind on the case instead of her looks. “Let me take your coat ...” He nudged aside the guilt that his attraction to Hope brought. When he slipped it from her shoulders, his fingers brushed the ends of her hair. The tendrils felt like silk and little ribbons of heat filled his stomach. Okay, stop this crazy attraction. This was business, he reminded himself, not a date. He had asked her here to uncover information about her brother. Nothing more. She wore a long, red skirt with a black sweater that fit snugly to her body, hugging her hips and the tops of her thighs. Soft, black suede boots covered her feet. The off-the-shoulder neckline of her sweater gave Nick a nice view of her neck and the slope of her generous breasts. A gold medallion with some kind of green stone in the center and hints of gold running through it rested just below the hollow of her throat. Her chest moved slowly up and down as she breathed, and Nick felt mesmerized. “Dinner smells delicious ...” Hope glanced around the entryway.

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Her words startled Nick out of his sensuous haze. He was crossing the line and he couldn’t let that happen. Nick tore his gaze away from her chest and hung her coat in the hall closet. “Dinner’s almost ready.” He turned toward the kitchen. When Hope stepped into the kitchen she paused a moment and looked around. The overhead light beamed down, illuminating her violet eyes. “Nice.” “Thanks. The house belonged to my grandmother. Took a lot of remodeling. I’m starting on the backyard next.” He welcomed the idle chitchat. Somehow, it made things easier. “Mind if I put this in the fridge?” She held up the white bag again. “Go ahead.” He gestured toward the refrigerator. “Would you like a glass of wine? I was just about to open a bottle.” “Sure.” Hope walked to the freezer, dug something out of the bag she still held in her hand and set it inside. The rest of whatever was in the bag, she put into the refrigerator. Metro went back to his spot in the middle of the kitchen floor and lay down. He turned his head from Nick to Hope and back again while his tail swished lazily against the floor. “I hope you like hot fudge sundaes.” Her casual statement caught him off guard. A sudden, vivid memory struck Nick in the center of his heart. Rachel sat at a picnic table in the park with Metro at her feet. Her blonde hair pulled up into a messy ponytail. She was barefoot and wore cutoffs with a pink tank top. Her brown eyes sparkled up at him as she spooned a large dollop of the hot fudge sundae into her mouth. He shook away the memory, turned to Hope from where he stood next to the stove and gave her a smile he didn’t feel. “Yeah, who doesn’t?” Nick turned back to the stove to hide his emotions. Damn Hope for making him remember that particular day. It was right before Rachel found out she had cancer. He gave himself a couple of more minutes to pull himself together. By the time he poured the wine, he’d restored his good humor. When he handed her a glass, their fingers brushed, their eyes met. She took a sip, then licked her lips. He followed the movement of her tongue for a moment and felt desire slip to his groin. “You’ve got quite a touch with plants,” she said, snapping him out of his sexual reverie. She wandered over to the bay window in the end of the kitchen. The kitchen floor tile extended all the way into the bay. Several potted plants he had cultivated in his greenhouse, then moved indoors to enjoy during the winter, sat on freestanding wire shelving. “I have a greenhouse in the back. I’ll take you out there later if you’d like.” She smiled. “I’d like that.” In a few minutes, they settled comfortably at his breakfast table munching on a crisp green salad and bowls of fresh pasta. He listened to Hope make all sorts of mmm sounds.

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Rachel had always picked at her food, but Hope consumed it with relish. He liked watching her eat without concern for fat and calories. “You really enjoy food, don’t you?” “You bet.” She patted her lips with her napkin. “There’s nothing better than a homecooked meal. Food always tastes better when someone else fixes it.” She took a sip of wine then set down her glass and looked at him. The bright light over the table accented the warm expression in her eyes, the lids covered with just a hint of makeup. Her lips appeared pink and full and infinitely kissable. The sharp point of guilt needled him again. “Thank you for making dinner but it wasn’t necessary.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I enjoy cooking, especially when I have someone to cook for.” She dug back into her pasta. “I rarely cook. When I do, it’s usually a disaster. Cooking is Cullinan’s department.” She lifted a forkful of pasta to her mouth. Nick twirled spaghetti onto his fork and took a bite. The flavors in the sauce melted on his tongue. “Your brother appears to be many things. Not only does he cook but he owns a very successful antique business.” Nick paused for a moment choosing his words carefully. “What else does he do?” Her lilac eyes lifted slowly and stared at him. She rested her fork on the side of her pasta bowl. “Cullinan told me you asked a lot of questions the other day.” She avoided a direct answer to his question. “I understand you’ve been assigned to Abel’s case.” “That’s right.” Hope picked up her wine glass. She took a sip watching him over the rim. When she lowered her glass, a drop of wine glistened on her lower lip. He had an almost overwhelming desire to sweep away that drop with a kiss. Before he could do anything about it, her light pink tongue darted out and licked it away. He straightened, turned his attention away from her mouth and back to his food. What was he thinking? She was the exact opposite of his wife. How could he possibly be attracted to her? Cops did not get involved with suspects. Wait a minute, she’s not a suspect. Or is she?

You’re a detective. Do your job. “So what have you learned so far in the case?” He couldn’t really talk to her about the case even though she worked in the D.A.’s office. Although he’d been suspicious of Cullinan from the beginning, now his suspicions focused on Hope as well. According to his research, the Dove was part of a family of thieves. He skimmed his gaze over her beautiful face. Had Hope spent her nights stealing jewels before she redeemed herself and decided to uphold the law rather than break it? So what if she had? Should that make any difference in how he conducted the case?

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“I’ll let you know. We’re still checking out a few leads.” Was she scoping out the house the night of the party? The report said nothing about her being there but maybe she had been there earlier? Or maybe some other time when there weren’t all those people around. After all, she was an attorney in the D.A.’s office and the crime occurred at his house. He leaned back in his chair. “Is Cullinan your only sibling?” “One and only.” “You look nothing alike.” She threw him a half smile. “My mother couldn’t get pregnant, so they adopted Cullinan ... then three years later I was born.” “Yeah, it happens like that sometimes. Ever been married?” She raised her brows. “Have you?” Her softly spoken question echoed through him. In his mind, he saw Rachel’s face, her loving eyes, vivid smile and blonde hair that rioted around her head in a mass of curls. Deep in his heart, he still loved and missed her and he knew he always would. So, how could he be attracted to another woman, especially this woman? Her brother’s a suspect in a burglary case. “Yeah, I was married. She died.” Sadness welled up inside him. Compassion filled Hope’s face and eyes. She reached over and laid her hand over his. Her fingers felt warm, soft, entirely feminine. “I’m sorry,” she murmured quietly. A fragile emotional thread wove through the air between them. Nick slid his hand from under hers effectively stopping the loom of desire. What was he going to do about the attraction that arced between them? Not a damn thing, he told himself firmly. “Did you grow up in Colorado?” he asked changing the subject. “Yes, Castle Rock.” Nick bit back a smile. He’d finally caught her in a lie. She didn’t grow up in a small Colorado town. In fact, she moved around a lot. According to his sources, she and Cullinan settled here in the early nineties while Hope attended law school. “Any more questions?” He smiled. “There are always more questions.” “Is this a cross-examination, Detective?” Her smooth voice with an underlying hint of challenge intrigued him. “That’s your department. I’m not a lawyer, remember?” “Sure feels like one ...” Unable to resist, he leaned toward her. “Believe me, Hope, if I ever cross-examine you, you’ll know it,” he said in a low, velvet tone. The violet color of her eyes darkened slightly and her lips parted on a soft sigh before she shifted away. He sipped his wine and kept his eyes fixed on hers. “What exactly was your brother doing while you were attending law school?”

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She looked at him a moment longer while her lips curved in a mercurial smile. He could almost see the wheels spinning in her shrewd attorney’s brain. “I don’t remember ... exactly.” “Avoiding my questions won’t help your brother, Hope.” Her expression grew serious as though she were about to start her closing arguments in a case. She leaned toward him, her eyes sharp and assessing. “I want to make one thing crystal clear.” Steel edged Hope’s silky voice. “Oh, yeah, what’s that?” “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my brother.” She spaced the words out evenly. “Anything?” He stared directly at her. “Even break the law?” Her eyes narrowed. “Are you accusing me of something, Detective? Because if you are, I’d rather you just came right out and said it ...” She finished in a crisp tone. His suspicion of her rose another notch, but so did his respect. This woman kept him on his toes. “I’m not accusing you of anything, Counselor. Why are you being defensive?” She pressed her delectable lips together for a moment in a tight line then relaxed them and picked up her wine. Hope watched him out of the corners of her eyes and threw him a smile. “I’m an attorney. It comes with the territory.” The tension broke and Nick grinned. It had been a long time since he’d spent such an enjoyable evening dealing with a smart, enticing woman. “Would you like some more?” “More accusations?” She countered as she sipped her wine. He smiled. “More food.” Hope shook her head. “I’m stuffed. It was wonderful, though. Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” He gathered their plates and stood. “I hope you left room for the dessert you brought.” She smiled and her eyes danced mischievously. “I always have room for dessert.” Her husky voice rippled over a knot of awareness filling his gut. “But I was hoping you’d show me your greenhouse first.”

***** They put on their coats and stepped outside into the clear, frigid night. As they walked along a shoveled path toward the southwest corner of the back yard, Hope could see the outline of the greenhouse huddled in the darkness. Mysterious shadows danced around the yard. She looked up at a thin crescent moon hanging in the black velvet sky crammed with stars then glanced over at Nick. Fear for her brother clouded her mind. She had to protect him and the key was turning the tables on Nick Morelli.

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From Nick’s pointed questions a few minutes ago, it was obvious that he thought Cullinan had committed the robbery at Abel’s house. Did he suspect her as well? That crack about breaking the law still rankled. She was an honorable attorney now, not the cat burglar she used to be working jobs alongside her father and brother. To top it off, she was attracted to Nick, the dedicated cop who was going to try to bring her brother down. What was she going to do about her attraction? Absolutely nothing. She had Cullinan to think about, not her own libido. Hope shivered inside her coat against the cold. She wouldn’t see him again, she vowed silently. Unless he came to her office on official business. Otherwise, no more home-cooked meals for two in the warm, cozy interior of his house or anywhere else for that matter. She should have insisted he come to her office in the first place instead of agreeing to meet him on his own turf. She felt him walking next to her, the warmth and scent of his body reaching out, surrounding her. Their breath mingled and dissipated into the night. Her pulse tumbled. The man was definitely hot. God help her, she was starting to forget the reason she was here in the first place. Nick had raised the stakes considerably by focusing his attention on Cullinan. She had to get a firm grip on her hormones and find out everything she could about his investigation if she was going to keep her brother safe. The insane attraction she felt for Nick had disaster written all over it. When they reached the small lean-to greenhouse, Nick opened the door and they stepped inside the warm, humid interior. He flipped a switch and light washed through the space. The air smelled of healthy plants, soil and fertilizer. Nick pressed a button on a CD player sitting on a shelf by the door and the sound of a saxophone, deep and sensual, permeated the room. Interesting, a man who nurtures plants with music. Hope looked around at the snug interior about the size of her office. There were three planting benches along a wall lined with glass shelving that made an efficient use of the small space. Plastic flats marked with the name and planting date of new seedlings that appeared green and healthy filled the shelves ... “Lovely.” “Thanks.” There was a hint of pride in his voice. “It’s got everything I need, a water supply, work benches, a heater for controlling the temperature and shades to diffuse the sunlight when I need to.” She had a sudden image of her mother patting the soil around a newly planted rose bush. “My mother would have loved it here. She had quite a green thumb.” Hope sighed. “I’m not very good with plants I’m afraid, so you’ll have to educate me.” As they strolled around the room, Hope grew warm and took off her coat. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the temperature of the greenhouse, the spicy jazz playing, or Nick’s presence by her side. Hope stopped now and then to study the pots of flowers and herbs.

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Along the far end, she spied a rather sickly looking geranium. “This one doesn’t look so good ...” Nick moved up behind her and looked over her shoulder. Hope smelled his soap and the light tangy hint of aftershave. She closed her eyes, took a long, slow breath and just breathed him in. Hope wanted to lean against him and see if his chest was as solid as it looked. Her eyes popped open in shock at how quickly she brushed aside her vow to control her attraction. “My mother had it in her kitchen ...” He stood so close that his breath blew against Hope’s ear. She swallowed hard as desire made her skin grow warm and tight. The only reason she felt this attraction, she reminded herself, was that it had been too damn long since she’d had sex. Yes, that was it. Nothing more. “I should have known better than to give her a plant.” Nick’s voice rang with affection, seemingly completely oblivious to her growing desire. “In a few more weeks, you’ll never know it had been neglected.” Hope had begun to feel neglected herself. Sexually speaking, that is. Her own fault, she supposed. She’d been focusing solely on work for the past several months. If she had been going out on a regular basis, she wouldn’t feel this intense attraction for Nick. Maybe if she told herself that a few hundred times she’d start to believe it. The music changed to a familiar song, and Hope couldn’t help but smile at the memory it evoked. “Why are you smiling?” Nick asked, still looking over her shoulder. Startled out of her thoughts, Hope turned. He was close, much too close but she couldn’t bring herself to step away from his enticing maleness. “I was just thinking that I haven’t heard that song since the night of my prom.” His blue gaze slid to her mouth. What if he tried to kiss her? Would she let him? Yes, a voice said in her mind. No, her more rational side answered. “Want to dance?” Not a good idea. Her pheromones were already running amok. “I don’t think I remember how.” Darn it, her voice had a breathless quality she was unable to control. Nick moved closer and slid one arm around her waist. Only a dizzying current of lustful awareness separated their bodies. “Sure you do.” His soft statement stirred her desire. “It’s just like making love. Once you get busy ... all the moves come rushing back.” Heat curled through her belly at the sound of his deep, sexy voice and the way he wrapped his tongue around the words “making love.” A sudden vision of what he might look like naked popped into her brain and her heart rate kicked into overdrive. She shook away the image, trying desperately to shift her emotions back to solid ground again. Just because the guy was a definite turn-on didn’t mean she had to do anything about it, right? Nick locked eyes with her and seemed to probe to her very soul. The air between them grew thick with tension. Her pulse throbbed and her heart shuddered with desire. He was

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getting to her. His eyes, his mouth, everything about him tempted her senses. She needed to get away from his irresistible male attraction before she did something they would both regret. Before she could pull out of his embrace, Nick grasped her right hand and lifted her arm before easing her into a slow dance. Little wings of sexual need beat steadily in her stomach. Warmth from his hand burned through hers and into her body. Her breath grew shallow and her knees felt weak as Nick kept his gaze directly on hers. The music slowed as the song ended. He crowded her next to a table and stopped. When he removed his arm from around her waist, she suddenly felt cold. With delicate precision, he traced around her mouth with his finger. His breath fanned over her lips. Hope’s throat grew tight and her mouth tingled. For a minute, she imagined him caressing her not just with his finger, but his whole hand -- no, make that body. What was she thinking? Slowly, he lifted the hand he still held gently in his and kissed her palm with just a hint of tongue. Her stomach slid to her toes. “Thanks for the dance.”

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Chapter Five Cullinan perused a stack of invoices at his desk in the shop and forced himself to concentrate. Despite his best efforts, Tess’s words echoed through his mind.

I never thought you capable of hurting anyone. He tossed the invoices aside and leaned back in his chair. How could she think such a thing?

Besides, I stole from only the ultra rich just as Dad taught me and donated a portion of the profits to charity. His gaze fell on the jade egg still sitting on his desk. He reached over, picked it up, and rubbed his thumb over the carved Chinese figures and three white stones set into its surface. Of all the baubles his father had stolen through the years he loved this one the most. He was glad his father had decided to keep it. Was Tess right? Did stealing in hopes of completing his father’s mission and giving a portion of the profits to charity justify his actions? He’d always thought so; at least until Tess walked back into his life. Now he wasn’t so sure. Even if caught and eventually put in jail, he would never be able to reveal the truth. A wry smile curved his lips. They wouldn’t believe the story anyway. Frowning, he set the egg carefully back into the gold stand. Tess. After all this time the woman he’d given his heart and soul to still thinks of him as a common thief. How could she believe he would steal her pendant? Would he have stolen it if he’d known that it was the pendant and put an end to his father’s quest? Seeing her, holding her, kissing her again brought up old feelings, the love he thought he had buried finally when she walked away from him eight years ago. All it took was a look, the sound of her voice, the sweet taste of her lips, and the emotions flooded back.

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An image of her face loomed in his mind. She still cared for him too. No matter how much she tried to hide it. Attraction shone vividly in her eyes. A ray of hope touched his heart. Did he have the chance to win her back? He smiled slightly. Maybe he could. His smile faded. What would it take? He thought about the small job he had planned for the end of the month. He’d researched carefully, hoping the particular piece he planned to steal would be the one. Only stealing wouldn’t help him win Tess. He would have to stop altogether. Was he willing to sacrifice the mission to secure his own happiness? A curtain of sadness cloaked his heart. No, he knew he wouldn’t stop until the quest was complete. The bell on the front door of the shop jingled. He rose, walked around the desk and saw Hope stroll toward him. She had a large white paper bag in one hand and a cardboard tray of drinks in the other. “The diner’s running a special -- two burgers for the price of one.” She smiled and wiggled her brows at him as she walked to his desk. She laid the bag on top of the desk. “Tess called me today.” At hearing Tess’s name a dull ache nudged his heart. Great. “Yeah. So?” “She wanted to talk about how you stole her pendant.” Hope looked at him over her shoulder. He raked a hand through his hair. “Can you believe it?” “No, but she does and that’s all that counts.” Hope lifted their food out of the bag and laid it on the desk top. She took a long draw on what he assumed was a chocolate shake, her favorite, and gave a sigh of satisfaction, then looked at him with sisterly affection. He walked to his chair and sat down. He took a sip of his soft drink and shoved a French fry into his mouth. Hope took a bite of her burger, rolled her eyes in ecstasy, and raised one brow in expectation. “Want to talk about it?” Cullinan shoved his food aside as the anger and frustration he’d felt over Tess’s accusation rose inside him once more. “She waltzed into the shop with both guns blazing. Nothing I said could dissuade her.” He huffed out a breath. “After eight years, the only reason she comes to see me is because she thinks I stole her precious pendant ...” He remembered the look on Tess’s face as she accused him. The hurt, anger and shock because she thought he had betrayed her. “She’s changed, Hope. Tess isn’t the woman I used to know or the woman I ...” “The woman you loved? “That too.”

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Hope watched him with concern on her face. “People change, Cullinan. Her husband was one of the victims of 9/11. Any death of a loved one changes a person. It’s bound to, especially the way Quinn died.” Cullinan shrugged. “Doesn’t matter if she’s changed.” He avoided her eyes in an effort to hide his true feelings. “Tess and I are over.” Hope snorted. “Right. Listen, if you still didn’t have feelings for her, Tess’s accusation wouldn’t have bothered you in the least. You’d have laughed it off.” She popped a French fry into her mouth. Cullinan looked at her and frowned. “What! Are you a psychologist now?” “We need to examine the situation from an objective point of view.” She effectively ignored his sarcasm. He rose from his chair and paced with his hands shoved into his pockets. “There’s nothing objective about her giving me one week to turn myself in.” He snapped out the words. She tossed a French fry onto the paper container holding the rest of her fries. “What happens if you don’t?” “She’s going to Abel.” Hope shot up from her chair. “This whole thing is getting way out of hand. I’ll call her right now and set her straight.” Cullinan grabbed her arm before she could reach the phone. “You know you can’t tell her the truth.” She rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll make up something.” “The only way to prove I didn’t do it is for us to figure out who did and why.” Her shoulders slumped and she sighed. “You’re right, but how are we going to do that?” “Let’s start with what we know.” He walked over to an empire sofa and sat down. Hope picked up her drink and followed, settling beside him on the sofa. Cullinan kicked off his shoes and propped his feet on top of a small ottoman. “Okay, let’s look at the facts. During a dinner party at Abel’s someone broke into the safe, stole some cash, a coin collection and Tess’s pendant. They damaged the safe and were surprised by the gardener.” A thought slipped into his brain. “Remember when the World Trade Center was bombed a few years before 9/11?” She took a sip of her milkshake. “Yeah, I remember. What about it?” Cullinan straightened, leaned forward and rested his hands on his thighs. “One of the men who rented the van that had the bomb in it went back to the car rental agency after the bombing to get his deposit back. That’s how they caught him.” Hope chuckled. “Yes, I remember now. Whoever he was, he wasn’t too bright.” Cullinan laid a hand on her arm. “I think the same thing happened at Abel’s.”

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She set her cup on the floor as she stared at him with interest. “What do you mean?” “I don’t believe that the person who broke into the safe is a pro but an amateur. They fumbled around, damaged the door on the safe and made noise. That’s what alerted the gardener in the first place. A pro wouldn’t have been caught. Besides, why would he or she leave a feather behind?” Hope’s eyes widened. “Do you think someone told the thief to plant the feather?” Excitement filled her voice. “I think it’s possible because the feather was white. Someone must have specified the color otherwise he might have left a gray, red or even a blue feather behind.” “But why not hire a professional? Why risk getting caught?” Cullinan frowned slightly. “I don’t know, but I do think that pendant is part of a bigger picture.” He turned and looked at her. “Have you ever seen it?” Hope shook her head. “No, unfortunately not. The only thing I know is that it contains a white stone. Whether it is the pendant or not, it’s quite valuable and would be worth a lot of money on the black market.” “Exactly. Tomorrow I’ll do some checking and see if I can find out who some of the previous owners were.” Cullinan raised his arms and placed his hands behind his head as he settled against the back of the sofa. “We need to know who they sold the pendant to.” Hope nodded. “Give me the names as soon as you have them. I’ll use my connection with the D.A.’s office to try and find out more information.” She took a long sip of her shake. “Perhaps, we’ll find out what happened to them very soon. Maybe then we can put Dad and his mission behind us for good.”

***** Tess tightened the belt of her warm flannel robe and walked down the hallway toward the kitchen. Just as she reached the doorway, she sneezed for the umpteenth time and grabbed a tissue from the dispenser on the butcher block counter. Holding a tissue to her nose, Tess turned on the light and walked toward the stove to set the kettle on to boil water for her tea. She shivered as another chill wracked her body. The doorbell rang. The sound echoed through the quiet house and for a moment, she considered not answering it. Her head felt stuffed with cotton and her chest ached from coughing. Besides, she wasn’t in the mood for conversation or company. Quinn had always liked to entertain and never minded when people dropped by unexpectedly, but she hated making small talk, especially when she didn’t feel like it. She closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. If she didn’t answer the door, maybe they would go away. The bell rang again. No such luck. Reluctantly, she headed for the front door.

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When she reached the door, she saw Abel on the stoop. He looked at her through the large glass insert in the door. A warm smile creased his face. He held a cardboard box in one arm and a bouquet of flowers in his other hand. Tess shifted to block her body from the cold air and opened the door. She tilted her head and smiled at Abel around the edge of the door. “Abel, this is a surprise.” Heavy gray clouds quilted the sky and a light snow had begun to fall. “I called the store to see if you’d like to have lunch and they told me you were out sick. May I come in?” “Of course, but I warn you, I have a terrible cold so you’ll be entering at your own risk.” “I’ll take my chances.” Abel stepped inside and shut the door. His height and strength reminded her how much she missed having a man in the house. Snowflakes sprinkled his black hair. He wore a heavy brown coat and his skin looked flushed from the cold. With an assessing gaze, he studied her with kind hazel eyes. “Even sick, you still manage to look beautiful.”

Yeah, right. Tess pushed a strand of hair away from her face. “Not true, but thanks.” He lifted the bouquet of flowers and held them out to her. “I thought these might cheer you up.” Tess took the flowers. “They’re lovely. Thank you, Abel. If only they could get rid of this cold.” She buried her nose in the assortment of blooms, wishing she could smell their sweet fragrance. The bouquet held a couple of tulips, her favorites, and other assorted spring blooms. A memory focused in her mind, unbidden. Cullinan held a bucket of bright pink tulips out to her. Tess had always liked flowers, but never had a particular favorite until Cullinan. When he showed up at her door with those tulips, they became her favorite flower. Abel gestured toward the box he still held in one arm. “Not to worry. I brought the cure. A few bowls of my cook’s chicken soup and you’ll be well in no time.” He shrugged out of his coat and hung it on a hook beside the front door. Tess reached out and touched his arm. The expression in his eyes warmed in a way she’d never seen from him before, an expression of male interest. Surprised and uncomfortable that she provoked his reaction, she withdrew her hand. “You’re a good man, Abel. I never understood why you and Quinn didn’t get along.” The warmth in his eyes turned cool then warmed just as quickly with a friendly light. “It’s water under the bridge.” “I suppose you’re right.” Something had happened in the past to drive a wedge between Abel and Quinn, but Quinn had refused to talk about it. “I was about to make tea, but I’ll have some soup instead. It smells wonderful.” “Go put your feet up and I’ll fix you a bowl.”

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“I’m fine, Abel. I’m not an invalid yet.” She started toward the kitchen. “No, you’re just pale as a ghost and ready to keel over.” She stopped and looked at him over her shoulder. “A minute ago you said I looked beautiful.” Abel winked. “That too.” Tess realized he charmed her. She hadn’t been truly drawn to a man since ... since Cullinan. Quinn had been loving and protective, but not alluring. A moment ago, she’d thought he’d looked at her with male appreciation. Surely, that was a mistake. Abel had never shown the slightest bit of interest in her, at least not romantically. He’d only exhibited a brotherly sort of affection. Funny, she had never found Abel particularly attractive before. Obviously, she’d had too much cold medicine. It made her giddy. “Okay, you win.” In a few minutes, she was settled on the sofa with a plaid throw over her legs. Abel walked slowly into her small, cozy den holding a tray laden with a steaming bowl of soup. He set the tray on her lap and then sat in an overstuffed chair opposite her. Able wore a dark gray suit with a pale blue tie. There was a strong resemblance between him and Quinn, especially around the eyes. Her gaze shifted to a picture sitting on the desk beneath the window. She and Quinn smiled at the camera, their faces close together, Quinn’s arm draped around her shoulders. Seeing the picture didn’t normally make her feel sad, but having Abel in the house and looking so much like Quinn made her heart ache for the husband she’d lost. Pushing the emotions aside, she swallowed a spoonful of the rich broth. The warm liquid soothed her raw throat. “It’s delicious.” “Eat up because there’s plenty more where that came from.” Abel rose from the chair and walked around the room while she ate the soup. He stopped in front of a bookcase where Tess shelved her collection of mystery novels before he noticed a stack of sketches she had lying on top of the small desk. He glanced at her. “May I have a look?” She nodded. “Go ahead. They’re just a few jewelry designs I’m considering.” If he liked them, fine; if he didn’t, so what? She created her designs for women, not Abel, or any man for that matter. He said nothing as he flipped through the sketches. He looked at one and then paused a moment. When he’d studied the last one, he turned and looked at her. “They’re excellent, Tess.” This was the first time anyone had seen her work. She suddenly felt a tremendous rush of relief and some embarrassment. To hide her feelings, she focused on the bowl of soup. “Thank you,” she murmured. He probably said it just to be nice.

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“I mean it sincerely.” He brought her attention back to the subject of her work. “When do you think you’ll have some pieces ready to show?” She laid the spoon down with a clatter. “Show?” “You know, present for sale.” Tess stared at him. “I’m not sure. Those are only rough sketches, I haven’t perfected them yet. I haven’t even made a list of the materials and tools I’ll need.” She paused and leaned back against the sofa. “The only thing I know for certain is that I want everything to be of the highest quality. Unfortunately, quality is expensive. Maybe in another six months or so I’ll have enough saved to start purchasing some materials.” Abel walked over to the sofa and sat beside her. He took the tray and set it on the coffee table, then laid his hand over hers. His skin felt warm, his palm smooth, not like Cullinan’s callus-covered ones. She pushed thoughts of Cullinan’s rough, manly hands to the back of her mind. She had to stop thinking of him and focus on the future. “I’d like to throw a little party for you.” Abel squeezed her hand slightly. “I have some friends in town who are first-rate jewelers, and I think they would be very interested in your work. Perhaps you can put a few pieces in their shops.” His tone was enthusiastic. For a moment, Tess allowed herself to envision her jewelry glittering in a showcase window. “How much money do you need to get two or three pieces done?” His question jarred her thoughts back to the present. She shrugged. “I’m not sure exactly. I’d need to make a list. Why?” “I’d like to help you get started by lending you some money.” Tess shook her head and thought of Quinn’s enormous debt. “Thank you for the offer, but I’m determined to do this on my own.” He smiled and the look of romantic interest she’d seen earlier returned. Maybe she hadn’t imagined it. “At least think about it.” She slid her hand from beneath his. “I’ll think about the party but not the money.” He nodded and rose from the sofa. “Fair enough. I need to get back to the office. I’ll call you tomorrow and see how you’re feeling. Promise you’ll get some rest?” Tess nodded. “I promise.” After Abel left, Tess sat and listened to the wind whistle around the eaves of the house. Once again, her gaze settled on the picture of her and Quinn. She slid from the couch and walked to the desk. The dim winter light shone in through the window and illuminated their faces in the picture. Tess warmed at the memory and touched Quinn’s face.

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What was her intuition telling her? She felt confused. Feelings for Cullinan and feelings for Abel warred inside her. She thought of the man who had just left and the interest she’d seen in his eyes. Had it been real? Should she encourage him? Abel was caring and protective. He offered safety just as Quinn had. Cullinan offered danger and excitement. She’d given in once to Cullinan and to the aura of charm and energy surrounding him. Not to mention the kiss he’d given her the other day, the kiss she’d enjoyed. Just thinking about it caused desire to curl through her stomach then move lower. Tess closed her eyes, then opened them. She couldn’t allow herself to forget he’d broken her heart into a million pieces. Perhaps it was time to follow her intuition instead of her heart.

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Chapter Six Shrugging into her coat, Hope exited the courtroom in the Denver City and County Building and into the main corridor. People crowded the hallway. The chatter of voices and the sound of footsteps increased the ache pounding at the base of her skull and the tension gripping her shoulder muscles. After three hours of deliberation, the jury acquitted the bastard. She’d tried her best but a witness lied and the jury believed him. The whole verdict hinged on his false alibi. The perp should rot in jail for shooting that young, innocent woman, a single mother with no family. Unfortunately, he walked out of the courtroom a free man. She wanted to shut out the court’s decision and not think about the deceased woman’s baby being swept up into the child welfare system. She worried about the baby’s future. Would she be adopted by loving, caring parents or end up being shuffled from foster home to foster home? Hope gave herself a mental slap. What was the matter with her? She usually didn’t become so involved in any of her cases, but the baby reminded her of how her own mother had died in a hit and run accident. The person responsible had never been found. Still reeling from the jury’s decision, Hope joined the flow of people in the hallway. She intended to go straight home, soak in a hot tub brimming with bubbles and then sleep for the next twelve hours. Hope headed toward a bank of elevators when Nick Morelli stepped through the doors of an adjacent courtroom. For some inexplicable reason, the sight of him helped smooth the ragged edges of her bleak mood. A spark of sensual excitement raced through her blood. Her pulse quickened while invisible fingers of warmth swept over her skin. A week had past since they’d shared the intimate dinner at his house.

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She’d tried to push thoughts of her nearly overwhelming attraction to him from her mind. Nevertheless, the memory of Nick leading her in a slow, seductive dance before caressing the boundary of her lips with just the tip of his finger invaded her thoughts on a continual basis. At the time, she’d wanted him to kiss her until she couldn’t think, but afterward she’d been grateful he had come to his senses and backed away. Getting involved with Nick would be a huge conflict of interest because he was the investigating officer in the robbery case and Cullinan is his main suspect.

Leave now before he sees you. Despite the mental warning, her feet stayed glued to the floor. He wore a dark, conservative suit and tie with his policeman’s badge clipped to the lapel of his jacket. His wavy, honey-colored hair glinted under the courthouse lights. She thought he looked good in jeans but in a suit ... the man made her mouth water. Hope cursed inwardly and buttoned her coat. What was the matter with her? The man suspected Cullinan of a crime. No matter how hot and bothered Nick made her, she had to protect her brother and the first step was staying away from him. She turned to leave when his gaze locked onto hers. Her breath caught in her throat.

Too late. His face brightened, followed by a friendly yet cool expression. The corners of his sexy mouth kicked up as he walked toward her. His body moved with ease, the muscles in his shoulders shifting almost imperceptibly beneath his jacket. “Hello, Hope.” The deep timbre of his voice caressed her skin. Because of his height, she lifted her chin and looked up at him. His compelling gray eyes stared into hers, making her pulse beat harder. Unable to resist, she inhaled the spicy scent of his aftershave and let it fill her senses. A ripple of awareness curled through her stomach. “Nick. Nice suit ... you testify today?” Without taking his gaze from her face, he loosened the tie at his throat, slowly pulled it off and stuffed it into the pocket of his jacket. He studied her for a moment.

What does he see? How do I look to him? Nick’s long fingers worked the first few buttons from their holes on the neck of his white shirt. Dark hair curled through the opening. Why couldn’t he be plain and unassuming? “Yeah. Tough day?” People milled around them but Hope hardly noticed. He exuded an aura that clouded her mind. “It shows, huh? Justice definitely wasn’t served.” “Want to talk about it?” His gentle query touched her. God, she longed to unload her frustration and anger about the verdict. She couldn’t call Cullinan because he’d driven to Colorado Springs to

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check out a lead on one of the pendant’s previous owners. Tess would listen but she had financial troubles and Hope didn’t want to burden her further. Would Nick understand her feelings about the baby having her mother torn cruelly from her life? There’s only one way to find out ... ask. How could she ask? Nick made her want to give in to the chemistry arcing between them. Cullinan, the only family she had left, hung in the balance. “Thanks, but I’m headed home to a hot bath.” For a moment, a seductive light glimmered in his eyes. An image of Nick, naked and wet while she rubbed lather all over his body popped like a neon sign into her brain. She wished with every sexual female urge within her he would ask to join her. His voice jolted her back to the present. “A new place just opened up across the street ... it’s supposed to be quiet with a nice atmosphere. How about a drink first?” She looked at Nick. She had to get a grip on herself. Cullinan had always protected her; now it was her turn to return the favor. Did Nick have some news about the robbery at Abel’s house or was he on a fishing expedition to find out more information about her brother? She licked her lips. His gaze drifted to her mouth then back to her eyes, while his voice, deep and clear, urged her to say yes. She wanted to. “You can relax and tell me why you look as though someone just licked the red off your candy.” As soon as the words left his mouth he looked uncomfortable, surprised even that he’d said them, but recovered quickly, putting an unreadable expression back on his face. Did he regret asking her out? Did the words “licked” and “candy” spoken in the same sentence make him question his motives? Just hearing them made her fantasize about bare skin and heat. After her terrible day, she would like nothing better than to lose herself in an hour or two of raw, hot sex ... but not with Morelli. Instinctively she knew sex with him would leave an indelible imprint on her soul. Her options were clear -- have a drink with Nick or go home to a lonely apartment. Nick won, hands down.

***** They settled in a rounded corner booth by a window. Inside the bar, fashioned after an English pub, Hope watched people flow into the cozy interior to escape the frigid weather. Outside, snow drifted down and coated the sidewalk and street in a fresh layer of white. People walked by bundled from head to toe, their breath puffing out in opaque clouds before dissipating in the cold air.

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She glanced at Nick, who sat near her, quietly watching her. His eyes looked dreamy in the low lighting. He sipped his Irish coffee, leaving a glimmer of wetness behind on his lower lip. He ran the tip of his tongue briefly over his lips then took another sip. The scent of his skin, a mixture of soap and aftershave, made her feel like a breathless teenager. God, the man smelled good. A nearly overwhelming need to move closer to him, touch him and feel his body heat consumed her. She fought her attraction and attempted to focus on her surroundings. Subdued lighting, the tinkle of glasses and the murmur of hushed conversations completed the intimate atmosphere but did nothing to cool her libido. Nick’s knee brushed her leg, just a whisper of a touch but enough to send a frisson of sensual heat flickering over her skin. The warmth settled between her legs, making her grow wet. Hope shifted to escape the sensation, the need growing stronger inside her. She attempted to concentrate on her glass of wine and turned the glass around and around between her fingers without taking a sip. “Talk to me.” Nick’s gentle, coaxing voice convinced her to confide in him. She lifted her gaze to his and nearly drowned in the tenderness she saw shining in his eyes. How could she refuse? Hope told him about the case and the baby’s plight. When she finished, he shifted closer to her side and laid his hand over hers. His fingers felt warm, the palm slightly callused. Somehow, she knew his fingers would be gentle. A man who cultivated plants would definitely be gentle with a woman. A frown creased his brow and he heaved a deep sigh. “That’s a tough one. I’m sorry. Are there any relatives who can take her in?” Unexpected tears sprang in Hope eyes. She shook her head and tried to blink them away before he noticed. He rested two fingers on her cheek and turned her face toward his. To her surprise, for a moment he appeared terrified and helpless. She never thought of Nick as helpless. He wiped away a tear that slipped from her eye with the pad of his thumb. “Hey, easy. She’s still a baby and that’s going in her favor. Most couples want to adopt an infant rather than an older child.” He paused. “I’ve talked to a lot of people in my years as a cop ... I’ve seen them at their best and their worst but seeing you with tears in your eyes makes me damned uncomfortable.” He smiled. “Cheer up. Everything will work out.” She gave him a half smile. “You really believe that?” “Absolutely.” Hope sighed and looked away. “Maybe ... a friend of the woman who was killed is filing a civil suit. If she wins, there might be a cash settlement for the child.” Hope frowned. “The job will be harder though because I didn’t get a conviction.”

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Nick gently squeezed her fingers, bringing her gaze back to his. “Listen, I have some neighbors who have been trying to have a baby for years with no luck. They’ve made up their minds to adopt. I’ll talk to them if you’d like. They’re good people.” His offer to help caused a lump of emotion to rise in her throat but she pushed it down. “Why would you do that for me? Aren’t we on opposite sides right now?” He leaned against the back of his seat, but didn’t let go of her hand. His serious cop face returned. “Just because I want to help you out doesn’t mean I’ve given up on the case or my investigation.” He still didn’t say that Cullinan was their prime suspect. Maybe he’d found out something new, maybe they were investigating someone else. The man suspected Cullinan. She couldn’t afford to let him get to her. “Speaking of the case ... anything new?” He grinned and her heart slid into her throat. The corners of his eyes crinkled. “You work in the D.A.’s office. You know what I know.” She doubted that. Cullinan had told her that Nick had been back asking pointed questions, wanting a list of his clients and contacts. Hope glanced out of the window. Snow fell heavily and covered the city in a thick, white blanket. She pushed her untouched drink away. “It seems we have a blizzard in the making. I’d better go.” “Not yet.” Nick motioned for a waiter and ordered a dessert. Hope raised her brows at him. Nick smiled a bit sheepishly. “I don’t usually order for a woman but if I didn’t you’d probably walk out of here with an empty stomach. You should never try and nurse a case of the blues on an empty stomach.” For the second time that evening, he made her smile. A comfortable silence settled between them. After a few minutes, the waiter brought the dessert. He set the thick chocolate torte before them along with two forks then left Hope and Nick alone. Hope eyed the cake then glanced at Nick. Without saying anything, he picked up one of the forks and sliced into the thick cake covered with whipped cream. He opened his mouth and closed his lips over the tempting morsel. He swallowed and licked his lips. She nearly lost it. For one crazy moment, she wondered what that chocolate would taste like coming directly from his lips. Would it be warm and sweet with Nick’s own flavor blended in? She’d never wanted to kiss a man more in her life. She really needed to get out of here, away from him and the yearning he brought out in her. Nick nudged the other fork toward her. “Your turn.” Hope shook her head. “If I eat that tonight, I’ll be wearing it tomorrow.” Nick laughed and the sound rippled over her skin and teased her nerve endings. “Not a chance. Go for it.”

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Hope took a bite of the cake and sighed as the chocolate melted on her tongue. “Wow, that’s almost better than --” “Sex.” Nick grinned. “You were going to say sex. Admit it.” She returned his smile. “I invoke the Fifth.”

***** Turning onto Broadway, Nick slowed his vintage Mustang behind a line of cars. Snow fell steadily, the wipers beating a gentle rhythm against the windshield. Music from a local jazz station played softly on the radio adding to the intimate atmosphere. With traffic nearly at a standstill because of the snow, it had taken him ten minutes to drive one lousy block. He glanced at Hope sitting in the passenger seat wrapped up in her coat. Against his better judgment, he inhaled a deep breath and with it the smell of her perfume, the same one she’d tempted him with when she came to his house for dinner. He grew hard in an instant, his arousal springing to life pressing against his fly. He fantasized for a moment about unzipping his pants and having Hope pleasure him with her mouth and then her -- What the hell was he thinking? Nick shifted in his seat hoping to find a more comfortable position and keep Hope from noticing his undignified and needy reaction to her. Hope unbuckled her seat belt and slipped off her coat. When she tried to reconnect the strap, it became entangled with her coat. Instinctively, Nick leaned in close to her. Her soft, feminine scent surrounded him. I shouldn’t be doing this. “Let me help you.” His hand brushed her fingers aside, the softness of her skin lingering to torture him further. He untangled the strap and with a soft click, he slid the tab into the buckle. His gaze collided with hers. The two halves of the seat belt fit together the same way he would sliding into Hope’s silken body; locking them together in the most intimate embrace. His pulse ratcheted up several notches. Her lips parted, the pupils in her eyes grew wider as she stared at him. “Thank you.” Her whispered words jerked him from his sensual thoughts. He moved away from her and straightened in his seat. The seat belt strap emphasized the shape of her lush, tempting breasts. They would fit perfectly in his hands. Were her nipples darkly tan or dusky pink? Would they pout sensuously for him when he rubbed his thumb over the tip or licked them with his tongue? Sexual frustration rose inside him. With every enticing second he spent with her, she ruthlessly chipped away at his determination not to take her in his arms and satisfy them both. She reached up and loosened the bun at the base of her neck, fluffing the strands of her hair with her fingers. He noticed her long, feminine fingers with short, unpolished nails. What would her hands feel like caressing his skin? He wanted to tunnel his fingers through

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her hair, tilt her head back and have a good, thorough taste of her mouth. Intense desire shot through his blood but he attempted to tamp it down. Hope turned her head and caught him looking at her. Their gazes held. He should turn away but he couldn’t. His breath grew shallow. He felt like a deer caught in lavender headlights. Leaning toward her, he reached out his hand to draw her to him, mesmerized by her beautiful, violet eyes and softly parted lips. A horn blasted through the snowstorm-filled evening, shattering the cocoon of sexual tension surrounding them. Nick jerked his head around and stared wide eyed through the windshield. The previously stalled traffic had moved several yards ahead. Surprise at his reaction to Hope zipped through him. He gave his libido a swift kick, straightened in his seat and pressed on the gas pedal. Get a grip, Morelli. Damn it, he never should have taken her out for drinks, much less offered to drive her home. Closed up in a warm car with her barely inches away enticed him beyond reason. Her brother was a suspect, and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt she would fight like a she-cat to protect him. He never crossed the line and got involved with a suspect or the relative of a suspect. Then why didn’t he walk away from her in that crowded courthouse hallway? He knew the answer even as he asked himself the question. Not resisting the disappointed and disheartened expression he’d seen in her big, sad eyes was his first mistake. Her rigid lawyerly façade had softened into a compassionate woman who cared deeply about an orphaned baby. She’d wheedled her way under his skin in a short period of time and made it damn near impossible for him to stay away from her. His second mistake had been ordering dessert. When she took a bite of the chocolate cake, closed her eyes, and a sexy moan of pure pleasure had issued from her throat, he’d nearly pounced. His third and biggest mistake had been mentioning sex. Now all he could think about was getting Hope naked. “Considering how the snow has picked up, I’m glad I let you drive me home.” Hope’s voice drew Nick from his thoughts. Guilt stabbed at him with sharp talons, but he carefully concealed his emotions and turned to her. “I’m a cop. It’s my civic duty to serve and protect.” He gave her wink for good measure. She nodded but an expression of uncertainty shone in her eyes. He turned onto Wazee Street. “My building is about halfway down on the right.” She told him the number, unsnapped her seat belt and slipped on her coat. Hope picked up her purse and briefcase from the floor of the car, laying them in her lap. Nervously, she played with the strap of her purse as she stared straight ahead in the direction of her apartment. “I’m sorry it took so long to get here, but with the snow and everything, it’s --”

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“Are you in a hurry to get away from me?” He needed like hell to get away from her. She snapped her head around. “No -- I just -- I mean -- I’m sure you probably have plans for the rest of the evening, that’s all.” Her voice rang with a skittish tone as she tightened the belt on her coat. He pulled the car next to the curb in front of her building, stopped and shifted the gear into park. “Stay put for a minute. It’s slippery out.” Nick climbed from the car and walked around to the passenger door. He opened it and held out his hand. Hope looked up at him, her eyes wary in the half-light. She grasped his hand. Warmth shot up his arm at her touch. With a slight tug, he helped her from the car. Snow and wind swirled around them but he barely noticed. For one intense moment they stood close, their breath mingling, their gazes locked. She took a step back, breaking the spell of desire. “Thanks for the ride.” Her voice was husky with a tremor around the edge of it. At least he wasn’t the only one suffering. “You’re welcome.” She started across the snow-covered sidewalk toward the entrance of her building. Nick couldn’t say why he did it exactly, except that he wanted -- no, needed -- to look in her eyes one more time before he headed home. He gathered some snow from the hood of his car, molded the icy crystals into a ball and tossed it toward Hope. The snowball connected with her left shoulder and splattered. She stopped and swung around with her eyes wide, her mouth gaping. Nick couldn’t have stopped his grin if he tried. “Oh, sorry, that just sort of ... slipped out of my hand.” The expression of surprise on her face turned to challenge. She tossed her purse and briefcase onto the steps of her apartment building, gathered up some snow, and with a determined gleam in her eyes, made a snowball. Nick gave a whoop of laughter and patted more snow into a ball. Before he could fire it at her, Hope hurled a snowball in his direction, popping him square on the side of his head. He shook his head, scattering the snow. “Nice shot.” Hope giggled, made another snowball before taking a couple of steps toward him. With precision, she tossed it against his chest. Snow splattered upward, the icy flakes spraying over his face. He wiped a hand over his face and threw a snowball back at her. She sidestepped and nailed him in the neck with another snowball. The slush slid beneath the collar of his jacket and into his shirt, chilling his skin. He shuddered against the cold and pinned her with his gaze. He stalked her with a handful of snow. Laughing, she kept tossing snowballs at him but he dodged each one until he had her backed up against the wall of her building. They stood close, their chests heaving, her skin flushed with cold. He jerked his right hand holding the snow, sending a spray of white over Hope’s face and hair.

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Laughing, she blinked and lifted a hand to wipe the snow from her cheeks. Nick grasped her fingers, rubbing them between his own and blowing his breath over her cold skin. After a moment, he lowered her hand to her side. He shouldn’t be doing this but he couldn’t help himself. “Let me take care of that.”

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Chapter Seven Undeniable sexual magnetism radiated between them. With her pulse leaping in her veins like an electrical current, Hope tried to calm her rapidly beating heart. Nick’s gaze bored into hers with seductive confidence while a smile full of intimate secrets kicked up one corner of his mouth. He still held her hand, his thumb caressing her inner wrist in tiny circles. She knew he felt the throb of her pulse telling him what his touch did to her but she was a flesh and blood woman who longed to end the drought in her intimate life. Everything about this was wrong, but she couldn’t back away from the promise of passion she saw in his eyes. Slowly, without taking his gaze from hers, he entwined their fingers, pressing their palms together. A delicious sensation of reckless need fluttered through her body. He shifted closer. His male heat and tantalizing scent surrounding her, made her tremble with desire. The snowy world around her narrowed down to Nick. She didn’t even feel the cold anymore. “Nick, we shouldn’t be doing this.” Her voice held a husky note of want that belied her words. “We haven’t done anything ... yet.” “We both should walk away right now. You’re after my brother.” She tried to put emphasis and conviction into her words but the yearning she felt deep inside softened the edges in her voice. One of them needed to be sensible. “You think he committed that robbery but he didn’t and I --” He laid two fingers against her lips. “Shh, let’s forget for just a minute that I’m a detective and you’re the sister of my number one suspect.” He nudged the tip of his index

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finger inside her lower lip, removed it and sucked the tip of his finger. “I want this kiss as much as you do.” Hope shook her head very slowly. He grinned. A shiver raced down her spine. “You’re a terrible liar, Hope.” He stepped closer until mere inches separated them and wrapped his fingers around her neck. Her skin tingled with awareness as a vital sensation of alluring risk scampered through her blood. Keeping his gaze on hers he leaned forward, his breath blowing warm over her right cheek, his scent consuming her senses making them spin. With the lightest nip from his lips, he nibbled snowflakes from her cheek. The touch of his lips sent a stream of heat down her neck to engulf her breasts. Her nipples hardened immediately, pressing against her bra as if asking for release. He ate more snowflakes from her cheek with just the slightest stroke of his tongue. Nick glided his lips over her jaw toward her ear. He placed an open mouthed kiss directly beneath her earlobe. She closed her eyes, letting her head fall back and giving him better access. More. She wanted more. She needed more. Now. Slowly, he rubbed his tongue over the lobe before sucking it into his mouth. A throb of desire sent ribbons of want wrapping around her body and settling deep inside her core. Without taking his lips from her skin, he trailed kisses over her right cheek to the corner of her mouth and licked. Quickly, Hope turned her head desperate to feel his lips on hers but at the last second, he pulled back so their mouths barely grazed each other. “Not yet.” With sensual precision, he kissed the snow from her left cheek and gave her other ear the same thorough attention. He removed his hand where their fingers laced together and loosened the belt on her coat. His warmth lingered on her skin and it felt as though he was still holding her hand. A rush of wind swept briefly around her body but he slid one arm around her waist, pulling her snug against him, warming her and chasing away the cold. They touched from chest to toes, their thighs, their hips. His arousal pressed hard and urgent through the fabric of her slacks and nudged her femininity. She grew wet, wanting him closer. With his other hand, he tunneled his fingers through her hair tilting her face up to his. She looked up into the infinite gray of his eyes and felt some unnamed emotional piece to a puzzle fall into place. His gaze cruised over her face before settling on her mouth. He lowered his mouth within a fraction of her own. “Last chance.” As he whispered the words, his lips touched hers in a feathery caress.

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She sucked in a breath right before his mouth took hers in a bone-melting kiss. This was no tentative sampling; he practically swallowed her whole. Nick pushed his tongue past her lips and into her mouth. Their tongues collided in a hunger-filled duel while his flavor filled her like heady wine. He tasted of chocolate and a trace of something uniquely his own. She drank from his lips even as his mouth devoured hers, ravishing every secret recess. His hair felt soft, the strands tickling the skin between her fingers. She lowered her hands to his chest, her fingers groping beneath the edges of his jacket for the buttons on his shirt. Suddenly, she felt she would die if she couldn’t feel his skin beneath her fingers. God, she wanted more, all of him, naked and wanting, his body locked inside hers -“Hope?” At the sound of the unexpected voice, Hope and Nick broke apart. They jerked their heads around at the same time. Cullinan stood a few feet away. “I thought that was you.” His probing gaze shifted to Nick, then back to Hope. Embarrassment and guilt flooded through her. She tried to hastily pull the edges of her coat together, only Nick’s arm still encircled her waist. She lowered her hand, clasped her fingers around his arm and pulled. It was like trying to move granite. She looked at him. He gazed back at her for a moment telling her with his eyes he did not intend to let her go just yet. Her hands shook not with nervousness but unfulfilled desire. She licked her lips tingling from Nick’s kisses and attempted to muster some dignity. “Cullinan, it’s not what you think. We were just ... that is, we ...” Cullinan laughed without humor. “Give me a break. Another minute and you’d need to get a room.” Hope blushed at her brother’s words but before she could say anything, he headed toward the door of her apartment building. “We have to talk. I’ll see you inside.” She listened to the beep of the security system as he slipped in his card releasing the lock on the door. In a moment, the door closed with a click. Nick pulled his arm from around her waist. Hope slumped against the side of the building. “Why didn’t you let me go?” “I refuse to act like a kid who’s just been caught sneaking a smoke by the school principal or in this case your brother.” She raked a hand through her hair. “We could have covered it up. I could have explained it away as --” Nick laughed and grasped her chin, drawing her gaze to his. “Your skin is flushed, your lips are red and swollen, and your eyes are glazed. Which adds up to ‘I’m hot for you, so let’s get naked’ ... What part were you planning to cover up?”

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Hope jerked her chin from his hold and pulled her coat tightly together. She averted her gaze, not wanting to look at him for fear he would see the truth. She didn’t really want to explain anything because she enjoyed every damn minute of it. “We shouldn’t have done that.” Nick shrugged, pursing his lips. “No, we shouldn’t have but I think you’ll agree it was inevitable. Now that we have --” “We don’t need to do it again.” She stepped around Nick and headed for the door. “Hope.” She stopped at the sound of his voice and looked at him over her shoulder. He stood with his legs planted slightly apart, his hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks. He looked impossibly handsome standing in the snow with his hair mussed from her fingers, his gray eyes shining with unsatisfied arousal. “I admit we crossed the line -- hell, we vaulted over it -- but if we’re ever alone again, it’ll happen ... again. You know it and I know it.”

***** By the time she reached the apartment, Hope had managed to regain her equilibrium and clear her head of the passionate haze kissing Nick caused. When she opened the door to her apartment, she saw Cullinan standing by the window. He didn’t say anything when she stepped inside. Somehow, she had to make him understand what happened. How could she make him understand when she didn’t even understand it herself? She’d never experienced such high voltage sexual attraction. Certainly not the kind that culminated in an off the scale kiss! Hope looked at the rigid set of her brother’s shoulders, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, and knew she had her work cut out for her. Hope laid her purse and briefcase on the sofa and shrugged out of her coat before walking to his side. He didn’t acknowledge her presence with his usual teasing smile and quick hug. An invisible wall surrounded him, a clear signal for her to keep out. She wanted to touch his shoulder but dropped her hands to her sides instead. Cullinan never liked to be touched when he was angry. “Cullinan ... I know how it looked, but I can explain.” He turned slowly and faced her. His expression held anger, and hurt. She wanted to soothe it away and make things right between them. After all, he was her only family. “Explain what?” His eyes glittered with betrayal. “How you got up close and damn personal with the man who wants to put me behind bars?” His lips spread into a sneer. “Or the part where he had his tongue halfway down your throat and you were trying to rip his clothes off?”

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The cold tone of his voice lashed at her like a thin, hard blade. He hit the intended target -- her pride and her conscience. She raised her hands with the palms up. “It was a stupid thing to do. I let my hormones get the better of me. I’m --” He gripped her by the upper part of her arms. “What did you tell him about me, Hope?” His voice grated over her nerves in a harsh, raw tone. “Or does that come later during pillow talk?” A sharp thorn of hurt needled her heart. “How could you believe I would betray you and the mission?” She whispered the words as emotion clogged her throat. “Morelli’s a cop and I’m an attorney. Both of us have vowed to uphold the law, but no matter what comes down the pike, you and I are family ... period.” His angry expression faded. Cullinan dropped his grip on her arms and turned to face the window. He raked a hand through his hair and heaved a deep breath. “I’m sorry. It’s just that when I saw the two of you, I freaked. I thought he’d gotten to you, made you tell him things ...” “You should know me better than that.” He glanced at her, smiled and held his arm out. She went to him and snuggled next to his side; he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. The worry she’d felt that he might not forgive her slipped away. “I do.” He whispered the words softly against her temple. “I’ll remember next time.” He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek then let her go. “Next time?” He shrugged and headed for her small kitchen. “The next time you see Morelli.”

... if we’re ever alone again, it’ll happen ... again. You know it and I know it ... Nick’s words echoed through her mind but she pushed them away. “I’m not planning to see Morelli again, at least not alone.” Cullinan laughed. “Right.” He opened the refrigerator and stuck his head inside. “You keep telling yourself that. Chemistry of that magnitude doesn’t just go away.” Hope kicked off her shoes and slumped onto the sofa. With a little luck, maybe that one kiss had burned off the sexual attraction they’d been harboring for one another. She rolled her shoulders to relieve the tension, grateful her long day was over. “I could say the same thing about you and Tess.” He rummaged around in the refrigerator, withdrew a carton of eggs and a bag of lettuce, and set them on the counter. “There is no me and Tess. How does an omelet and salad sound for dinner?” “Like heaven. Especially if you’re cooking. You keep telling yourself that about Tess as well.” When he didn’t say anything more, Hope decided to prod him further. “Have you seen her lately?” “No.”

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“Maybe you should. She was sick with a bad cold, missed a few days of work.” “So?” Hope smirked and watched him carefully. “So, Abel told me he went by to see her ... bearing gifts.” Cullinan stiffened for a moment then continued to crack eggs into a bowl. “What does that have to do with me?” Now for the kicker. “Nothing if you didn’t care about her, but since I know for a fact that you do, it’s significant because Abel told me he intends to pursue a relationship with her.” Cullinan stopped whisking the eggs for a moment then continued more vigorously. “Tess is free to date whoever she pleases.” Hope rose from the sofa and walked toward the kitchen, loosening the belt of her slacks then pulling her blouse from the waistband. She retrieved a bottle of wine from the fridge and two glasses from the cabinet and poured out. She set a chilled glass of wine on the counter beside Cullinan. “That’s very democratic of you. Only she’s not interested in Abel ... she’s interested in you.” Cullinan poured the egg mixture into a nonstick pan, turned the flame down and began slicing some tomatoes for the salad. “Tess has no interest in me except where her precious pendant is concerned. She made that crystal clear.” Hope sipped her wine and leaned against the counter. “Tess still loves you. I can see it in her eyes.” “Bullshit.” Cullinan scraped bits of tomato into the bowl with the salad greens. “Could we talk about something else?” She sighed, moved to one of the chairs at the bar and sat down. “One more thing ... Abel isn’t right for Tess; he’ll clip her wings.” Cullinan sprinkled grated cheese and seasonings into the omelet before folding one half over the other. “Would you mind setting out some plates? Dinner’s almost ready.” Frustration danced up Hope’s spine. Why did he have to be so damn stubborn? “Did you hear what I just said?” “Yeah, I heard you. What do you expect me to do about it? She made her choice a long time ago.” “That’s crap and you know it. You made it for her.” “I’m not the one who told her to walk away and marry Quinn!” Cullinan snapped out his words as he slid the omelet onto a plate and set it on the counter along with the salad bowl. “No, big brother, you showed her instead.”

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Cullinan gripped the edge of the counter, leaned toward Hope and glared at her. “What the hell do you mean showed her?” Hope cut the omelet in half and slid a portion onto her plate. She took a bite and chewed. “You let her go.” He straightened from the counter and helped himself to some salad. “I don’t grovel.” Hope suppressed a smile. “You will ... eventually.” Cullinan sat at the bar next to Hope. “Not a chance.” He poured some dressing onto his salad and shoved a forkful of lettuce into his mouth. “I did some research concerning the previous owners of the pendant.” “Yeah, what did you find?” He wolfed down a couple of bites of the omelet and drank a sip of wine. “They aren’t collectors. They buy mostly on the black market then sell the item quickly.” He rested his fork on the edge of the plate. “Here’s the interesting part. The point of sale for the black market items originates with one company in particular.” “Finally, we have a lead. Now we’re getting somewhere. Who owns it?” “Unfortunately, I don’t know. I couldn’t find the company listed in any phone book at the library or on the internet and none of my contacts have heard of it. It’ll take a while but I’ll keep looking. In the meantime, I brought the list of buyers.” “Great, I’ll make a few calls and see what I can find out.” Hope touched Cullinan’s arm drawing his attention. “You need to make one too. Call Tess ... or better yet, go by and see her.”

***** The next day, the storm had cleared, leaving behind several inches of fresh, white powder. The sky, a bright blue bowl with a scattering of wispy clouds, loomed over Nick’s head. A brisk wind swept through the small cemetery chilling him to the bone. He drew his long, woolen coat tighter around his body and stared at his wife’s grave. He wasn’t exactly sure why he was here. Maybe to close an emotional door he’d never been able to shut before. A layer of snow shrouded the lettering on the front of the headstone.. Nick squatted down and whisked away the snow with the side of his glovecovered hand revealing Rachel’s name. He traced the letters with the tip of his finger and felt the familiar tug on his heart. “I miss you, baby. I miss you so damn much.” The image of his wife eased into his thoughts. Rachel’s heart-shaped face turned toward his as she sat nestled in his lap on the sofa with her arms draped around his neck. Her amber eyes appeared dreamy and a small smile curved her lips before he leaned down and kissed her. The rest of the night turned into an endless seduction of the senses as they made love slowly and sensuously in an attempt to get Rachel pregnant.

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Nick rested his hands on his knees and closed his eyes. He cleared his mind and tried to remember the texture of her skin, the scent of her hair and the taste of her lips, but damn it, he couldn’t. When they married, he’d planned to spend the rest of his life with her, but his plan changed cruelly when she got sick. Since her death, he’d spent his days going through the motions but not really living. Until last night. When he took Hope in his arms and kissed her, he felt himself coming alive for the first time since Rachel passed away. He’d spent a restless night tossing and turning, thinking of Hope and the way she’d felt in his arms, the smell and taste of her, the once dormant need and desire she’d reawakened in him. He wanted desperately to hold onto the intense yearning and want he felt for Rachel during their marriage, but thoughts of Hope kept intruding. It was time to accept the fact that Rachel was never coming back. With tears blurring his vision, Nick rose to his feet. He leaned forward and laid his hand on top of the granite stone. A lump of emotion pushed into his throat so he could barely say the words. “Goodbye, baby.” He turned and walked away. Despite how Hope made him feel, he intended to continue his investigation of her brother and his possible involvement in the theft. He would begin with that jade egg he’d seen in Benedict’s shop.

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Chapter Eight When the bell on the shop door jingled, Cullinan headed from the back room to the front of the store. He put on his salesman’s face for what he thought was a customer, but his smile quickly faded when he saw Nick Morelli, Hope’s pseudo boyfriend, standing just inside the door flanked by two uniformed police officers. Late afternoon sun streamed through the windows at their backs creating a golden halo around them, like a trio of avenging angels. Morelli wore a shirt and leather jacket with his badge clipped to the waistband of his jeans.

What the hell does he want now? This was the third time inside of two weeks Morelli’d come around asking questions and sticking his cop’s nose where it didn’t belong. Cullinan pushed aside his irritation and walked over to greet him. “Detective, how can I help you?” Morelli looked him straight in the eye with a smirk curving his lips as he held out a piece of paper. “This is a warrant to search the premises.” Warrant! Shock reverberated through Cullinan. Did Hope know about this? Why didn’t she warn him? Morelli nodded to the two officers. “Go ahead and get started. I’ll join you in a minute.” Cullinan snatched the paper from Morelli’s hand and began to read ... there is now being concealed certain stolen property, namely a gold pendant containing ... He blinked, unable to believe his eyes. Tess had gone through with it. Fury and hurt over her betrayal swam through his blood in an icy stream chilling him from the inside out. He’d told her repeatedly he didn’t have her damn pendant. How could she do this to him?

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When he finished reading, he stared at Morelli. Fighting against the anger nearly blinding him, Cullinan struggled to keep his voice cool and even. “What makes you think the pendant is here?” “The department received a tip from a credible informant that you have been involved in the acquisition of stolen items.” Morelli stepped around him and walked over to his desk.

Tess. She had to be the informant. Damn her! Morelli picked up the jade egg then glanced at Cullinan. “Do you have a box for this? I don’t want it to get damaged.” Cullinan flicked his gaze to the egg than back to Morelli. “You can’t take that.” “The warrant says I can.” His matter-of-fact tone irked Cullinan to no end. He wanted to shove the warrant down Morelli’s throat. Cullinan studied the warrant. All he’d seen at first was the information about the pendant but now he saw that the egg was included in the warrant as well. He jerked his head toward Morelli. “I told you before that egg belonged to my father.” “We have reason to believe this egg is identical to one never recovered from a museum theft in Philadelphia several years ago.” Morelli’s steely stare made Cullinan feel like a common thug. How could Hope stand this guy? Frustration swelled like ice expanding in his veins but he pushed it down. Arguing with Morelli would only make things worse. “If it turns out not to be the stolen egg, it’ll be returned to you. Now where’s the box?” With anger still riding him, Cullinan strode to the storeroom and retrieved a thick, foam-padded wooden box that a Fabergé egg had been couriered to the shop in recently. Returning to Morelli, he set the box on top of his desk and held out his hand. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to wrap it up myself.” Morelli smirked and handed him the egg. “Suit yourself.” He carefully placed the egg in Cullinan’s hand. Warm memories of his father temporarily cooled Cullinan’s indignation. This jade egg was the booty from his father’s first job. His father had been so proud when he brought it home and had even let Cullinan and Hope take turns keeping the egg in their rooms. He exhaled a deep breath. At least the police couldn’t arrest his father nor could they arrest him. He would swear to his dying day that his father bought it from a legitimate collector. He stared at the egg for a moment, rubbing his thumb over the intricately carved figures, the delicate renderings of trees and flowers and the trio of white stones. A bittersweet emotion cloaked his heart. This would probably be the last time he ever saw it. Cullinan smiled slightly. He wrapped up the egg and gold stand in bubble wrap for additional padding and laid them lovingly into the box. He secured the package with heavy

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duty plastic packing bands and then slowly smoothed his palm over it. Reluctantly, Cullinan turned and gave the container to Morelli. “Take good care of it, Detective.” Without another word, Cullinan paced from one end of the shop to the other, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on Morelli and the two cops as they searched the shop. He would love to step outside for a breath of air but no way was he leaving them alone. Being caught off guard once today was enough. As soon as the cops left, he was paying Tess a visit. A very long visit.

***** A couple of hours later, Cullinan marched onto the stoop of Tess’s house and jammed the doorbell. The sound of the bell ringing continuously inside the house buzzed through the door fueling the fury simmering in his blood. He clenched his jaw, scowled at her front door and willed it to open. The rapid patter of footsteps echoed from inside right before the front door jerked open. Dressed in a pink tank top, matching pajama bottoms and a white sweater, Tess glared at him with her green eyes wide and irritation covering her face. “What’s wrong with you? I thought it was an emergency!” He stepped inside, brushing past her. The front door closed with a slam. He spun and faced her as her just-washed scent enveloped him. She swept her arm out to the side then let it fall. “Gee, Cullinan, come in!” Her normally soft voice dripped with sarcasm. Tess stood rigidly, folding her arms over her chest. The action revealed the gentle slopes of her breasts, breasts he knew were soft, warm and tempting beyond reason. Awareness slid through his body challenging his anger but he ignored the sensation. He’d been so thoroughly pissed off for the last few hours, he wasn’t going to let his reaction to her stop him from letting Tess know how he felt about her betrayal. A betrayal that cut him to the quick. “How dare you come to my house like this? I’m surprised you didn’t just kick the door down!” Her shocked tone only fueled his ire. He scowled at her and jabbed a finger into the middle of his chest. “How dare I? I’m thinking of charging you with harassment.” Tess blinked a couple of times and looked at him as if he’d told her he’d just flown in from outer space. “Harassment?” The word ended on a rather high-pitched note. How could she stand there and look so innocent as if she had no idea what he meant? “You said you would do it ... and by God you did.” A frown furrowed her brow. “What are you talking about?”

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A lethal mixture of anger, annoyance and hurt moved through him like a living current. “You know damn well what I’m talking about, Tess.” He bunched his hands into fists at his sides and leaned slightly toward her. “Telling Abel ‘everything,’ as you put it.” Tess opened her mouth to say something, but he plowed ahead, effectively blocking her retort. “I no sooner returned from lunch this afternoon than three cops showed up with a warrant to search for your pendant ...” He didn’t bother to temper the anger or volume in his voice. “For the last time, I had nothing to do with the theft of your precious pendant!” Relaxing her shoulders, Tess heaved a deep sigh. “Do we have to talk about this by the front door? I was just about to have some tea. Let’s talk in the kitchen.” She tried to move around him but he stepped in her path. A gasp issued from her throat. He wanted to shake her until her teeth rattled. “I don’t want any damn tea.” “Then what do you want?” She snapped out the words. He shifted closer invading her space. Wariness filled her eyes. Cullinan could see he’d frightened her but if scaring her got him the truth then so be it. He studied the rim of black around her green irises, the pale gold undertones in her skin and her full mouth set in a firm line. “I want to know why you betrayed me by telling Abel I stole your pendant.” She took a step back. “I didn’t tell Abel anything.” “But you said you would go directly to Abel if I --” Tess huffed. “Well, I didn’t.” The anger drained out of him. “Why not?” Lowering her chin, she avoided looking at him. “I don’t know.” The softly murmured words shocked him. She hadn’t told Abel? The truth of the statement struck him like a sledgehammer. She hadn’t told Abel because they weren’t involved and she still cared ... for him. He placed a finger beneath her chin lifting her gaze up to his. “I think you do know. Tell me.” She licked her lips and had started to speak when the phone rang, interrupting her. “I’ll meet you in the den.” Tess motioned with her hand. “It’s down the hall on your right.” Cullinan sat on the sofa and listened to the muffled sound of Tess’s voice drifting through the open archway that connected the kitchen and den. A cozy gas fire glimmered in the brick fireplace casting soft light about the inviting room. She’d done okay after Quinn died, he thought, glancing around at the traditional furniture and walls painted in a soothing neutral tone. He felt proud of her, but deep down he wished she had run back to his arms and asked him to help her. He heard her hang up the phone and in a moment, she settled beside him on the sofa. Cullinan raised his right arm and rested it along the top of the sofa. She’d pulled her hair up into a messy ponytail and he fought the temptation to stroke his fingers over the creamy skin of her neck. “Are you ready to tell me why you didn’t talk to Abel?”

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She restlessly smoothed her brow with both hands. “I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt.” Cullinan almost didn’t hear her softly spoken words but when they finally sunk in a little spark of hope ignited inside him. He laid two fingers on the side of her chin and turned her face toward his. “Are you saying you’re beginning to believe I didn’t steal your pendant?” Her gaze clung to his, her eyes a mixture of expectation and confusion. A sigh escaped her parted lips. “Maybe.” Cullinan reached up and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. Her breath caught when he touched her. Her warmth caressed his fingers making him yearn to touch her skin to skin. “If you search your heart, Tess, you’ll know I could never steal anything from you.” “I thought I knew you ... now I’m not so sure.” Her words wafted over him in a suffocated whisper. “You know me.” He lowered his gaze to her mouth, leaned in close until barely an inch separated their lips. “Intimately.” He let their breaths mingle and caressed her lower lip with his thumb. Slowly, she pulled away from his touch. “That was a long time ago. A lot has changed since then.” Cullinan smiled slightly. “Not that much. The chemistry’s still hot between us. That kiss we shared the other day proves it.” “Chemistry was never the problem ... honesty was.” She might as well have thrown a bucket of cold water over him. He slumped against the back of the sofa and heaved a heavy sigh. “Why do you keep throwing that in my face? I was going to tell you I was a thief.” “When, Cullinan?” He turned his head and looked at her. “I would have told you ... when the time was right.” “You would have waited until after we were married, maybe even until after I became pregnant with our first child ... then it would have been too late.” “Too late for what?” “Too late to walk away from you.” “You did that anyway.” She turned her head and gazed at the fire. “I couldn’t be with you after that.” He wrapped his fingers around her hand. She looked at him as he drew her hand to his mouth and lightly kissed her knuckles. “And now?”

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She tried to pull her hand away, but he held on to it firmly but gently. “I’m tired; it’s been a long day.” She managed to pull her hand away this time, effectively avoiding his question. “By the way, that was Chief Palmera on the phone. He told me they searched your shop and didn’t find the pendant.” They found something else. An image of the jade egg flitted through his mind but he pushed it aside. “That’s because I didn’t steal it. Hope and I are working on a few leads. When we have some solid information I’ll let you know.” He brushed the back of his hand over her cheek and rose from the sofa. “I’ll be in touch.

***** Nick had been following Cullinan Benedict for days hoping to catch him meeting with a fence to unload the pendant ... Today he’d followed him from his antique shop to Washington Park, a large recreational area in the middle of the city.

The guy probably came out to take a walk and soak up some sun. If he were meeting a fence they would likely do it behind closed doors and not out in the open to avoid drawing attention to themselves. Nick sat in a car he’d borrowed from the impound lot and tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. He hadn’t wanted to drive his Mustang. Cullinan had seen the candy-red car the night he and Hope had been in the middle of that lip lock. He grew hard just thinking about her. Damn it, why did Cullinan have to be Hope’s brother? Why couldn’t he be just another suspect? He already knew the answer. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, he cared for Hope. When had his feelings changed, he wondered. The evening she’d confessed her concern for a baby whose mother had been brutally murdered or the moment he’d taken her in his arms and kissed her? No matter when she’d become important to him, one thing was certain -- capturing and convicting her brother would hurt her deeply. Would she ever forgive him? Probably not, but damn it, he was a cop with a job to do and he couldn’t let his burgeoning feelings for Hope get in the way. Cursing to himself, he watched Benedict exit his truck, a black SUV, the same make and model that had been spotted the night of the robbery. Benedict stood for a moment on the edge of the park with his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. Nick focused the lens of his 35 mm camera on his suspect and waited. **** Cullinan stopped at the edge of the park and surveyed the scene before him. The snow had been plowed into untidy mounds along the edge of the paved path that wound through

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the park. The slightly warm winter sun beamed down over the wooded area where people walked their dogs or ate their sack lunch at a picnic table while the weather held. He breathed in the crisp air and looked for a familiar face he hadn’t seen in a long time. He couldn’t help but grin when he saw the man he sought. Quickly Cullinan walked toward his adopted uncle, wearing a dark coat and sitting on a park bench smoking a cigarette. He stopped a few feet away, looked at him and waited. Cullinan saw Patrick’s brief smile crease the man’s classic Irish face, but his smile of recognition didn’t reach his blue eyes. Patrick tossed the cigarette to the ground, crushed it under the toe of his shoe and stood up. “It’s good to see you, boyo.” His accent, a thick, Irish brogue, rumbled from his throat. With a surge of happiness, Cullinan strolled quickly to his side and they embraced. His uncle gave him a couple of hard, affectionate slaps on the back before pulling away. Patrick was Cullinan and Hope’s honorary uncle and had been their father’s oldest friend. He stood a lean five feet nine, a perfect size for a thief who needed to pull himself up the side of buildings or slip through a window unnoticed. Patrick tossed an empty cigarette pack into a trash can sitting by the park bench. “Where’s Hope?” “Right here.” They turned. Hope walked up behind them with a cup of something hot in one of her gloved hands. She threw an arm around their uncle’s shoulders and gave him a hug. He touched the side of her face. “Your father would be proud.” Patrick’s expression sobered and he glanced nervously at the people milling about them before looking at Cullinan and Hope. “I’m glad you called.” Cullinan nodded. A mixture of fear and nerves flickered over his face. Patrick was a shrewd man with the sharply honed skills of a professional thief who had never been caught. He eyeballed every person who walked passed them. Cullinan laid a hand on Patrick’s shoulder, gave it a light squeeze then dropped his hand to his side. “Something’s wrong. What is it?” Patrick cleared his throat and looked at Hope, uneasiness clouding his eyes. “There’s something I have to tell you ... about your father and the night he died.” Cullinan watched the shadow of grief cross his sister’s face. “There’s nothing to tell. It was my fault.” Hope’s voice was a mere whisper. “No ... it was mine.” Pain and regret laced Patrick’s voice. Hope glanced at Cullinan then back at Patrick and frowned. “What do you mean? You had nothing to do with that job.”

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He looked down at his feet then back up at Hope and Cullinan. “Alex Case was connected to organized crime.” “No, you’re mistaken. He was --” Patrick held up a hand and interrupted her. “Please ... let me finish. You have to understand I was desperate.” Cullinan held his hands out to his sides. “Why are you telling us this now after ten years?” Patrick paused for a moment as if collecting his thoughts. “My life has been threatened. I need to tell you the truth about that night before it’s too late.” Hope stepped toward him and gripped his upper arm. “Who has threatened your life? Why?” “There’s no time for questions, just listen to me.” Patrick wiped a shaky hand over his mouth. “Back then I promised myself I would stop gambling. I borrowed thirty grand from Case to tide me over until my next job. Only I couldn’t stay away from the blackjack tables. I flew to Vegas hoping to triple it and lost my ass.” Dread swirled through Cullinan’s stomach as chilling as the breeze that blew around his body. A brittle silence settled between them. He didn’t want to hear what Patrick had to say next but he had no choice. Guilt filled Patrick’s gaze. “If Jacob succeeded, Case stood to lose a bundle. I needed a way out.” Hope shook her head. “No, it was my fault. It was my job to research Case’s routine. I overlooked something and cost Dad his life.” Her voice broke and tears sprang to Hope’s eyes. “Case wasn’t supposed to be home that night.” Patrick’s brows drew together in an agonized frown, his lips pressed into a thin line and his eyes glazed with sorrow. “I know. I tipped him off about the theft.” Hope’s skin paled and she gasped. Bitter shock burned through Cullinan. He looked at Patrick, a man he’d known his whole life, a man he trusted implicitly, a man he realized he didn’t know at all. He lunged and grabbed the lapels of Patrick’s coat. “You bastard! It’s your fault Dad’s dead!” He screamed the words, jerking hard enough to bring Patrick’s nose within an inch of his own. “How could you betray him? You were his best friend!” Patrick squirmed against Cullinan’s hold, his eyes panic-filled. Sweat beaded his brow. “I told you I was desperate and scared.” The pleading tone in Patrick’s voice sickened Cullinan. “I’m sure Dad was desperate and scared too ... right before he was murdered in cold blood!”

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Patrick’s hands clamped over Cullinan’s and pulled hard trying to release his hold. “I was late paying Case back. With all the accrued interest, my debt had grown to nearly fifty grand. And Case was going to kill me if --” “Money.” Cullinan sneered. “You did it for money. They dumped Dad’s body with his throat slashed on the curb in front of our house like he was nothing more than garbage!” His blood chilled as he remembered his father’s horribly white skin and lifeless eyes where he had lain in a pool of his own blood. Tears welled in Patrick’s eyes and his chin trembled. “I know, I’m sorry, but Case had a couple of his goons pick me up that night. They said they were going to kill me if I didn’t pay.” His face contorted with sorrow and guilt. “I’m a coward, I didn’t want to die. In exchange for my life ... I ... I gave him Jacob.” Cullinan rammed a fist into Patrick’s face. His father’s betrayer grunted as his head snapped to the right. Hope’s gentle hands pulled on his shoulders. “Please, stop, Cullinan. Hurting him won’t bring Dad back.” Hope’s gentle voice sliced through Cullinan’s red haze of anger, cooling his rage. Reluctantly, he shoved Patrick away and stepped back. He huffed out a breath and raked a hand through his hair. Patrick pressed the back of his right hand to his reddened jaw. His breath heaved. “God forgive me. If I could take back what happened I would. Believe me.” Desperation permeated Patrick’s voice. “I’m sorry.” Cullinan watched Patrick’s gaze dart this way and that before he slowly withdrew something wrapped in a velvet cloth from his pocket. “I hope this will make it up to you ... but most of all to Jacob.” He held the object in the palm of one shaking hand and with the other unfolded the cloth. A gold pendant in the shape of a dove set with a large white stone gleamed in the sunlight. Cullinan frowned at the curious red glow he saw surrounding the stone. “Where did you get that?” “From the D.A.’s house.” Cullinan’s gaze snapped from the pendant to Patrick’s face. “How did you know about the pendant? It’s been a secret for centuries.” When a couple holding hands moved in their direction, Patrick flipped the velvet cloth over the pendant and lowered his hand to his side so they couldn’t see it. “A few years before Jacob’s death, I overheard a conversation between you and your father that obviously I wasn’t supposed to hear. Considering the pendant’s history, I knew it would fetch an incredible price on the black market. I’ve been looking for it ever since.” Cullinan huffed out a breath. “Son of a bitch. How did you know it was at the D.A.’s house?” Patrick rubbed a hand over his forehead. “I’m an insurance agent now.”

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With a smirk, Cullinan tipped his head slightly back. “Very convenient. You can check policies to see what kinds of valuables are insured, their actual value, who owns them ...” Patrick nodded. “The pendant’s owner called to check the policy because she wanted to take the pendant to a jeweler to have the setting checked. Naturally, I asked her where she planned to keep the pendant prior to returning it to her safe deposit box and she told me where it would be ... The jeweler noticed a marking on the inside of one of the prongs. It was a dove. He took a picture of it and the owner sent the photo to her insurance agent ... me.” Hope folded one arm over her chest and gripped her upper arm with her free hand. Disbelief filled her voice. “I can’t believe this is happening.” “I was Quinn O’Brien’s agent for years,” Patrick continued. “When I saw the marking I knew it was the pendant. There was another picture of the pendant in the file, of course, but I couldn’t be sure if it was the pendant containing Saint Columba’s stone without looking at the inside of the prong. And that couldn’t happen without drawing suspicion on myself.” He thrust out his hand holding the pendant ... “Here, take it.” Just as their fingers met, he heard an odd popping sound. Bright crimson blood spurted from a hole in the left side of Patrick’s neck. Hope screamed. Patrick slumped to the ground, the pendant falling from his hand. A cold wind blew the velvet wrapping away. Distraught voices of people created a din around them as Cullinan and Hope knelt at Patrick’s side. Hope yanked the muffler from her neck, bunched it together and pressed the cloth against the wound. “Uncle Patrick, hold on.” Cullinan stared at Hope’s hands already covered in blood as he punched in the emergency number on his cell phone. Patrick stopped him with a surprisingly firm grasp. “No, it’s too late.” Blood dribbled from his mouth as his gaze shifted frantically from Cullinan to Hope. “Please,” he rasped in a gurgling voice. Dear God, Cullinan thought, he’s drowning in his own blood. After what had happened to his father he wanted to feel glad but he couldn’t. Despite what Patrick had done, Cullinan didn’t want to see him die, not this way. “Tell me you forgive me before I ...” Patrick’s grip loosened and his hand dropped to the snow-covered ground. His head lolled to one side, his eyes open and vacant. “Hope!” Jerking his head toward the sound of the voice, Cullinan saw Nick Morelli running toward them. What was that damn cop doing here? Before Nick could see the pendant, he grabbed it from where it had fallen beside Patrick’s body. He started to shove it into his pocket but noticed Hope’s overturned cup that she’d dropped when Patrick fell. “Quick, give me your cup.”

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Perplexed, Hope handed it to him. He pried off the lid, dropped the pendant into the remaining hot chocolate, then replaced the lid. “Here.” He thrust the cup into Hope’s hand. “Whatever happens, don’t let go of that cup.”

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Chapter Nine Taking a deep breath, Hope inhaled the fertile scents of thriving flowers and plants as she strolled through the heated pavilion of the Denver Botanic Gardens. The murmur of voices and the tinkle of cocktail glasses filled the air. Only two days had passed since she and Cullinan had watched helplessly as Patrick met his death in Washington Park just after he had revealed his shocking betrayal of their father. She should feel free now that her guilt over her father’s death had been lifted from her soul, but she couldn’t quite let it go because she’d lived with the emotion for so long. Hope had wanted to fly immediately to Scotland and return the pendant to the Church of Saint Columba. However, Cullinan insisted they wait until after the Carousel of Hope Ball and Silent Auction, a fundraiser to benefit abused and neglected children. Cullinan was slated to host the event on Friday evening and if he didn’t show up questions might be raised. Unexpectedly, an image of Patrick’s pleading eyes and blood gushing from the hole in his neck flashed through her mind. Shuddering inwardly, she pushed it to a dark corner of her brain. Determined to relax, Hope concentrated her attention on a red hybrid rose in a porcelain vase sitting on a display table. She leaned over and sniffed the velvet petals but another familiar, spicy scent blended with the sweet smell of the flower to tantalize her senses. No, it couldn’t be. She started to look behind her when she heard the deep, sensuous tone of Nick Morelli’s voice next to her ear. “Beautiful color.” She turned and bumped into Nick’s solid, masculine chest. Tipping her chin, she gazed into his amused gray eyes. A wave of delicious warmth encompassed her from head to toe. Damn it, why was she so drawn to him? “Nick, what are you doing here?” She hoped he wasn’t here to ask her more questions.

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Not bothering to move, he crowded her next to the display table. He sipped champagne from the crystal flute he held in his hand, his gaze intently watching her face. “I never miss the Prelude to Spring event. I’ve been working on some hybrids and it’s a great opportunity to talk to more experienced gardeners and pick up some tips. What about you?” She lowered her gaze to the lush rose sitting on the table and brushed her fingers lightly over the petals. “After what happened in the park the other day I needed to be in a warm place where plants were alive and growing, not dead and covered with snow.” Nick rested two fingers beneath her chin and lifted her face toward his. His gaze skimmed her face before settling on her eyes. “What happened wasn’t your fault.” The compassionate tone in his voice plucked a chord deep within her heart. Tears pooled in her eyes and she swallowed against a sudden lump of emotion rising into her throat. Pushing words into her throat, she couldn’t prevent the trace of sadness in her voice. “I know that but it doesn’t make Uncle Patrick’s death any easier to take.” How could Nick be so kindhearted and understanding tonight? After Patrick’s shooting, he had been relentless in his questioning. By the time he finished, she and Cullinan felt like common thugs. She’d held tight to the cup of hot chocolate the entire time fearing he would discover the pendant hidden inside. She had wanted to blurt out the truth and wipe away the smug, accusing expression in his eyes but couldn’t. The truth about the pendant had to be kept secret. Thank God, Cullinan now had the pendant safely hidden in a place even the police wouldn’t think to look. Hope couldn’t help smiling at the thought of the sacred object taped to the inside of her brother’s thigh right next to his ... “Why are you smiling?” Hope lifted her head at the sound of Nick’s voice. “Just thinking about something Cullinan told me.” “Want to share it?” “Some other time.” Nick licked his lips and dropped his gaze to her mouth. “Are you sure?” Somehow, his innocent question seemed loaded with double meaning. Yearning suffused her body as she remembered the snowy night he’d taken her in his arms and kissed her until she couldn’t breathe. She recalled in Technicolor every moment of that kiss, but most of all how his kiss made her feel, like she was the most important woman in the world. Each caress of his lips, the tantalizing thrusts of his tongue in her mouth, the lust he’d whipped into flame was seared into her mind. She grew wet, dampening her panties; her knees weakened and her pulse zipped in an erratic current kindling her attraction for him ... Oh God, she wanted him to do it all over again. Only she wanted more than just one kiss. She wanted his hands on her skin, her breasts, her ...

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His gray eyes darkened with emotion as he intensely studied her. Was he remembering too? A flutter of excitement danced through her stomach at the thought. “I’m sorry for being so rough on you and Cullinan after the shooting the other day.” He cleared his throat. “I was just doing my job.” “I understand.” Thank goodness her voice remained steady. Without taking his eyes from her face, Nick reached around her and set his glass on the table. His arm brushed the side of her breast. “Do you, Hope? Do you really?” She swallowed as a rush of heat swirled over her skin. Her nipples hardened into tight points inside her bra. She hoped he didn’t notice them through the silky fabric of her blouse. “Yes, absolutely. I know how the system works.” His gaze flicked from her eyes to the perky tips of her breasts. A flush burned up her neck and covered her cheeks. A sexy smile curved his lips. “I was hoping you’d take a walk with me.” She raised both brows. “In case you haven’t noticed it’s about fifteen degrees outside.” “One of the doors in the tropical conservatory is unlocked, courtesy of a friend who works here, so I could take a look at the two-story model of a banyan tree. There’s a staircase that winds through its branches.” His voice lowered to a soft rumble. “From the top you can see the sky. Epiphytes are displayed on the trunk and branches.” “Epiphytes?” “Air plants.” He breathed the words in a quiet whisper that caressed her skin. “What do you say?” Nick’s titillating promise the night he kissed her echoed softly through her mind. If we’re ever alone again, it’ll happen ... again. You know it and I know it. Excitement for the forbidden temptation of being wrapped in Nick’s arms and tasting the heady flavor of his mouth once more zipped through her. No, she couldn’t. Nervously she glanced at her watch. “It’s late. I really should head home.” He took her hand, entwining their fingers together. “Head home to what? An empty apartment?” His mellow baritone warmed her from the inside out. Heat shimmied up her arm and cloaked her chest. She longed to feel his hands on her bare skin, the pads of his fingers moving in an erotic rhythm between her legs, rubbing, coaxing right before he ... What was she thinking? Hope tried to pull her hand from his but he slid his thumb in a lazy circle over her palm, putting a stop to her efforts. Warmth shot downward through her abdomen before settling over her womanhood. Hope shifted on her feet trying desperately to stop the pleasurable sensation. “It’s not a good idea for us to be alone together.” He threw her a cocky smile. “Afraid I might kiss you again?”

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No, she was terrified he might do more than just kiss her and she would let him. Would he try to elicit information from her in the throes of passion? Would she give in and confess everything as long as he rewarded her with hot, sweaty sex? Damn it! She had to think of Cullinan and their mission to return the pendant. She couldn’t let anything, not even a drop-dead sexy cop stand in their way. “Not afraid ... exactly. It’s just that --” “Good. Let’s go.”

***** Nick opened the side door of the tropical conservatory, placed his palm on the small of Hope’s back and ushered her inside. She turned and watched him step through the door and close it at his back. Warm, sultry air wrapped invisible fingers around her, chasing the chill from her body. Too warm now in her coat, she unbuttoned it. The scent of plants and soil filled her head along with Nick’s enticing aftershave. With no lights on, shadows like gossamer apparitions floated around the interior. Moonlight beamed down through the glass ceiling and walls, painting silver hues on tree branches and palm fronds. Why did she let him lead her to this fecund, private place? She knew why. She wanted another kiss, no make that a dozen and then ... more. Nick moved closer, his alluring gray eyes glimmering in the moonlight. He reached up and brushed a lock of hair from her face. Only the tips of his fingers touched her skin. Slowly he trailed his fingers down her neck, grazing her collarbone, leaving warmth and longing behind. In sensuous answer, her pulse danced in an unstable rhythm calling to the depths of her womanly soul. “Why did you bring me here?” Her voice was raspy with unwelcome excitement. “I wanted to show you the view from the top of the banyan tree ... but I also needed to be alone with you.” His husky tone curled around her. She wanted to ask why but deep down inside, she knew why. His seductive labyrinth drew her. Inwardly, she fought against the sensation, helpless to stop the visceral craving that seeped into her bones. She started to speak but he gently covered her lips with his fingers. “I know what you’re going to say. It’s not a good idea for us to be alone together but sometimes you have to go with your feelings ... no matter what your head’s telling you.” He dipped his finger inside her lower lip then lifted his hand and licked the tip. Hope swallowed in lustful response. “Sometimes going with your feelings gets a person into trouble.” Nick smiled. “You’re right. And lady, you’ve got trouble written all over you ... but I don’t care. I’m tired of fighting my attraction for you, of thinking about you and hungering to have you in my arms again. Tonight I intend to do something about it.”

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Startled by his revealing words, a gasp escaped her lips. “Nick, I --” He took her hand. “Don’t say anything, just come with me.” He led her down aisles of lush flowers and plants to the center of the conservatory. Hope reached out her hand and touched one of the supports hanging from the branches of the model banyan tree. “This looks so real. It’s like a forest made from one tree.” “Yeah, these supports grow down from the branches, take root in the ground and begin new trunks.” He tugged her toward the base of the wooden staircase circling upward into the tree’s branches. “You won’t believe the view.” When they reached the top of the tree, they stepped onto a large, wooden platform built in the tree’s uppermost branches. Hope strolled with Nick to the railing and looked down over the conservatory. Exotic specimens from tropical forests all over the world grew in a shadowy carpet at their feet. The moon, like a white stone, gleamed overhead in the ebony sky cluttered with stars. Nick let go of her hand, took off his jacket and spread it over the floor. He loosened the tie at his throat and tossed it aside then toed off his shoes. “What are you doing?” He turned his head and gave her a leisurely smile. “Lawyers, always asking questions.” His dusky voice shimmered over her. “Give me your coat.” Hope hesitated a moment before slipping out of her coat and handing it to him. He spread her coat beside his then turned, held out his hand and curved his fingers in a come hither motion. A shiver of excitement ruffled her nerve endings. She raised one brow and smiled. “You aren’t very subtle, are you?” He chuckled. “It isn’t what you think ... not yet.” He glanced at his watch. “There isn’t much time.” She watched Nick lay on his back on top of the coats. He gestured toward the ceiling of the conservatory. “Better hurry. You don’t want to miss the show.” Speculation filled her. “What show?” Nick shook his head. “Would you stop asking questions and just trust me?” Trust him? She didn’t trust herself. Reluctantly, Hope slipped out of her shoes, lay down on her back by his side and stared through the glass ceiling at the infinite black sky beyond. Nick’s close proximity and the gentle wave of his body heat nearly overwhelmed her. She inhaled a deep breath of humid air through her nose and with it his scent. A flare of expectation flickered to life deep within her. “Almost time.” Her heart thumped against the wall of her chest. “Time for what?”

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Just as the words left her lips, a tiny ball of light streaked across the sky rapidly followed by another and another. The pinpoints of light seemed to fall into the trees and lush vegetation of the conservatory. Awestruck, she gasped. “You didn’t know about the meteor shower tonight?” “No.” “Did you think I brought you here to jump your bones?” Hope turned her head and found Nick watching her. Sexual tension crackled between them like a meteor’s trail of ionized dust and gas. “Did you?” As she stared into his eyes, yearning heated her skin. He reached out and grazed just the tips of his fingers over her cheek. When he touched her, a sense of completeness settled over her. How could that be? Nick was determined to bring her brother down and she was just as determined to stop him. Was she about to make the biggest mistake of her life? Nick brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed each of her fingers. Then he leaned over and touched his lips softly to hers. His mouth curved in a gentle smile. “I can see the reflection of stars in your eyes ... along with a lot of doubt.” She turned her head and looked up at the sky looming overhead. “Can you blame me? If Cullinan knew we were here he’d --” Nick nudged her chin until she turned and looked at him again. “This has nothing to do with your brother or the case.” Honesty filled his slightly husky voice. “This is about you and me.” Hope raised a brow. “Are you sure?” “I’m very sure. I need you to believe me before we go any further.” His tone encouraged her to put aside her doubts but she fought against it. “Do you trust me, Hope?” She wanted to, oh, how she wanted to but how could she when Cullinan’s fate might depend on what she said? “No, I think you’ll go after my brother given half the chance no matter what happens between us.” He smiled slightly and shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.” He laid his hand on her chest. “Do you trust me -- Nick, the man, not the cop -- with your heart?” His soft words lured her to believe he wouldn’t crush her heart into bits. A mixture of happiness and confusion swept through her. Unexpected tears stung the back of her eyes. No man had ever asked her such a question. They had only been interested in getting her naked as quickly as possible and if she admitted the truth, that’s all she had wanted as well. Somehow, Nick Morelli was different. She wanted him to see past her curvy, plus-size body to the essence of the woman inside, a woman who when she loved, loved deeply. Unable to resist touching him, she lifted her arms and curled her hands around the back of his neck, caressing his skin. The strands of his hair felt soft and silky as they slid over her fingers, the warmth of him burned into her. With her gaze on his persuasive gray eyes,

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she slowly drew him toward her until their breaths mingled and their lips barely touched. When she saw her own sexual appetite reflected in his eyes, her pulse leapt in tempo with her quivering heart. At that moment, he took her mouth in a kiss she felt all the way down to her toes. He plunged his tongue into her mouth, stroking, tasting and awakening her body with passion she’d denied far too long. All the reasons why she shouldn’t be in his arms fled like the white fire of a meteor’s light. She wanted him. All of him.

What about Cullinan? a little voice whispered. Cullinan has nothing to do with me wanting Nick. Nick slid his mouth from hers and pressed hungry kisses on her neck. When he reached her shoulder, he nudged aside the collar of her blouse and dipped his tongue into the hollow of her throat. Tendrils of heat spread over her chest and covered her breasts. She heaved in a breath of pleasure as his hands explored her body, igniting sensual bliss. Before she could wrap her mind around the sensations he aroused in her, he reached for the buttons on her blouse and quickly undid them. Without taking his eyes from hers, he unfastened her slacks and yanked them down. When he reached her hips, he stopped. “Lift up.” His voice was breathless and impatient. Hope raised her hips, allowing him to undress her further. His bold, assessing gaze fixed on the juncture of her thighs. With her slacks bunched around the upper part of her thighs, Nick lowered his head to her mound and licked her through her panties. Unfettered arousal radiated into her core. She sucked in a breath as a sensuous white cloud settled over her mind. After only one tantalizing lick, Nick lifted his head. Cool air wafted where his mouth had been, frustrating her. “Nick ... please.” She hardly recognized the husky, broken tone of her voice. Finally, her clothes were gone. She lay before him in only her bra and panties. With deft fingers, Nick undid the clasp of her bra and pushed the garment from her shoulders. He stared at her breasts before taking one in each palm. He caressed and smoothed the tips of his fingers over her, warming her skin and teasing her nipples with his thumbs until they were stiff and hard. >From his position on his knees beside her, she could see the tent in the crotch of his pants. He wanted her. Hope lifted her gaze and smiled at him. “I think it’s your turn.” He returned her smile. “Want to help me?”

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Hope came up on her knees facing him. With her gaze on his, she slipped the buttons on his shirt from their holes and revealed his toned chest. Dark hair covered his muscular pectorals then narrowed to a thin line that disappeared below the waist of his pants. In a moment, she’d disposed of his shirt. With her eyes on his, Hope pulled his belt from the loops, lowered the zipper of his slacks then slid her hand inside his briefs. His eyes darkened and his lips parted with a ragged breath. She grasped him and felt his life blood throb through his penis. She wanted to give him something ... something she’d never given another man. “Lie back for me.” His eyes narrowed in the half-light. “Hope, you don’t have --” “I want to.” Nick stretched out on top of their coats with his arms by his sides. Hope removed his slacks. A smile curved her lips when she saw his briefs. “Hmm, tighty whities. I figured you for boxers.” A challenging expression lit his face. He started to reach for her but she shook her head. “Not yet.” Her gaze lowered to the thick bulge between his legs. “I want to see you. All of you.” She grasped the waistband of his briefs, pulled them down and tossed them over her shoulder. His firm, hard penis sprang free between his legs. Her breath caught at the sight, yearning filled her and lust tightened her skin. Pushing her hair from her face, she lowered her head and slowly licked him from bottom to top. She heard his breath catch and smiled. Hope knew this was the moment she’d been waiting for, a chance to make him feel half of what she’d felt the other night during their torrid kiss. Lowering her head further, she slipped the tip of his penis into her mouth. She wrapped her tongue around him, stroking, sucking, enjoying the slick feel of him. Passion rippled down her body in a hot wave and saturated her femininity with glorious need. Hope rubbed the plump head against the roof of her mouth, letting his salty flavor coat her tongue. Slowly, she lifted her head, lightly grazing her teeth over the length of him until once again she held the tip of his penis between her lips. As she caressed him with her mouth, she felt his hands on the back of her head holding her there while she loved him. He moaned, delighting her as she gave him pleasure. Shivers of empowerment gently massaged her nerve endings. His breath grew harsher as she moved her mouth back and forth over the tip. He was begging for release when she finally lifted her head and looked down at him. Moonlight trickled over his body illuminating his skin and the wet sheen of his penis. A sense of womanly satisfaction and power coursed through her. She watched his penis lift a little, relax slightly, then lift again. She had done that to him. She had made him want her. Nick looked at her and held out his arms. “Come here.” His voice was barely a whisper of sound. “Let me hold you.”

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Hope lowered herself into his arms, feeling them close about her. She laid her head on his chest and listened to the beat of his heart. It seemed to thump in rhythm to his arousal that lay tucked securely between her legs. She inhaled his scent and with it, the fertile smells of the conservatory. Her blood flowed in a heated, syrupy glide sending a passionate message through her body ... Her skin tingled with the knowledge of what she had just done and what lay ahead. There was no turning back now. If a couple’s need could be seen with the naked eye, it would appear as gossamer and tantalizing as the moonlight caressing their bodies, she thought. She closed her eyes and imagined the moon’s silvery beams seeping into her bones. She felt Nick’s hands slide over her back, then lower to her fanny. He shifted until she lay beside him. He removed her panties, lifted one of her legs over his thigh, licked his fingers then lowered his hand. Gently, he parted her folds and caressed her. A pulse began between her legs. She felt the fluid of her body cover his fingers like a soft rain. She knew he would have great hands, a master gardener’s touch willing and able to nurture her ardor until it surged with life. Nick lowered his head and licked below her ear, then pulled the lobe into his mouth. His hand worked in a velvet assault on her femininity, warming her, making her throb. Helplessly she rolled onto her back and raised her legs, opening them wider like a flower unfolding its petals for the sun’s life-giving rays. “That’s right, baby,” he murmured. “Let me see all of you.” Little fires of ecstasy ignited inside her. She laid her hand softly over his and felt the movement of tendon and bone. “Oh God, Nick, that feels so good.” “I’m glad.” His raspy voice echoed the hunger building inside her. A white haze of euphoria clouded her vision. Everything around her, the smells of the conservatory blending with Nick’s seductive scent, the night sky overhead, enhanced her undulating ache for this man ... She pushed against his fingers desperately reaching for release. “Please, Nick.” “Not yet.” Nick’s mouth closed over her femininity, licking, sucking, rubbing her ruthlessly with his lips and tongue. Before she could catch her breath he covered her with his body, putting his hands beneath her knees and opening her even wider. With one hard thrust, he filled her to the brim. She gasped. He put his mouth on hers, his tongue mimicking each lunge of his lower body. He thrust, massaging every part of her into ecstasy. The head of his penis nudged the opening of her womb, pushing, insisting, not allowing any chance for refusal. He demanded yes from her, from every part of her, a total surrender of body and senses. She wanted nothing more than to give it to him. She listened to his harsh breathing and the sweet slap of skin on skin, wet and needy. A mad craving rushed through her while sweat dripped from their bodies. Primal need shot into her core. The orgasm consumed her like a celestial ball of fire. She seemed to float outside herself and become one mass of tingling sensation.

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At the height of her orgasm, she felt Nick stiffen in her arms, his muscles growing taut. She pressed her palms against his fanny to hold him inside her. A guttural cry issued from his lips as the warm stream of his fluid emptied inside her. Gradually, like a fog lifting, she became aware of her surroundings once more. She looked up through the glass ceiling of the conservatory. The meteor shower was over. The moon cruised through the sky, sprinkling her light down over them. Nick kissed her on the side of her neck and rolled to his back. “Are we still alive?” His voice was deep and carnal. She laughed. “I think so.” Hope exhaled a satisfying breath. “I’ve never had sex like that in my life.” Nick touched the side of her face, drawing her attention back to him. “Me either.” He threw her a sexy grin. “Give me a minute and we’ll have it again.” She had hoped the clawing need for him would abate once they’d made love but it only began to rise again at his words. He pulled her to him. A door opened. They froze. “This door shouldn’t be unlocked,” a voice murmured from below.

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Chapter Ten Tess strolled into the grand ballroom of the Brown Palace Hotel with Abel at her side and glanced at the crowd attending the Carousel of Hope Ball ... Men in black tuxedos and women in long, glittering gowns of every color from crimson to gold stood together in groups chatting and taking occasional sips from their drinks waiting for the festivities to begin. Waiters carrying silver trays laden with flutes of champagne circulated among them while an orchestra played in the background. The ball was one of the biggest events of the year held on Valentine’s Night ... The memory of another Valentine’s Day sprang into her mind like a gift wrapped in colorful ribbon. Cullinan sat next to her on the sofa of his apartment while she read the card he’d given her, filled with words of love. She remembered her smile and the strong emotions exploding in her heart right before she launched herself into his arms. Another Valentine’s memory followed. She and Quinn were dancing at the Rainbow Room in New York, his handsome face creased with a loving look, the feel of his arms and hands holding her making her feel safe and secure. A sudden lump rose into her throat and tears stung her eyes, blurring the room before her. She heaved a ragged breath. One of the men she had loved was gone yet her feelings for Quinn still lived in her heart along with her love for Cullinan. Why did Quinn have to die? If he hadn’t she’d be safely tucked into their home in New York and not here having to face her unresolved love for Cullinan. She tightened her fingers around the beaded evening bag she clutched in her hand, wishing with everything inside her she was somewhere else. “Why don’t I get us some drinks?” Abel’s voice brought her back to the present. She blinked away her tears, composed her face and looked up at Abel. “Good idea.”

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While Abel fetched their drinks, she withdrew a tissue from her purse and surreptitiously blotted the corners of her eyes. Thank God, he hadn’t noticed her sudden change in mood. She’d agreed to attend the ball with Abel because her feelings for Cullinan were still muddled ... She thought if she saw Abel and Cullinan together in the same room perhaps the differences between them would be clearer and she could make a decision finally. Determined to lighten her spirits, she focused on the display of decorative carousel horses erected on a low pedestal in the middle of the room. Draped on the saddles and bridles of the horses were necklaces, bracelets, and rings that had been generously donated for the silent auction. While she surveyed the scene, Abel returned with two flutes of champagne. She sipped at the fizzy amber liquid, hoping to settle her emotions ... She hadn’t seen Cullinan since he dropped by her house in a fury accusing her of spilling his secret life as a thief to Abel ... She touched Abel’s arm. “What do you think of the jewelry?” Unexpectedly his fingers closed around hers. “Exquisite. Like you.” Uncomfortable with his comment she lowered her gaze. Tess felt no emotional response from his touch, only the softness of his skin. Cullinan’s hands, however, weren’t soft; they were rough and callused like a man’s hands should be. Politely pulling her hand from Abel’s, she smoothed back a strand of hair that had come loose from the knot at her nape and returned her attention to the carousel. Each piece had a sign attached stating who had donated the piece. Her gaze couldn’t help noticing the beautiful emerald ring that Benedict Antiquities had contributed for the auction. A shudder of warmth cloaked her skin. Instinctively, she knew Cullinan had entered the room. Tess turned her head and scanned the crowd at the entrance until she found him. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of his tall lithe body dressed in a tuxedo. He smiled as he greeted a group of people. A flutter of awareness danced through her stomach and her heart thumped hard against her rib cage. Mesmerized, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. “Tess, there are some people I’d like you to meet.” She jerked her attention back to Abel and nodded, but as he led her to another part of the room, she couldn’t help looking back for one more glimpse of Cullinan. When she did, her gaze collided with his. She felt the heat he conveyed to her with that single glance all the way down to the marrow of her bones. Unwillingly, she had to force her attention back to the scene in front of her as Abel introduced her to a well-known jeweler. “Tess is quite an artist. I’ve seen some of her drawings of a necklace and matching bracelet. They’re wonderful.”

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She smiled and looked in Cullinan’s direction once more. With his gaze still intently watching her, he smiled slightly then disappeared into the crowd. That smile caused a surge of expectation to swirl through her veins. Pushing aside the intense feeling Cullinan’s presence created, she focused her attention on the jeweler. “Thank you, Abel. The designs are innovative and I’m hoping buyers will think so too.” The attractive older man smiled. Lines radiated from the outer corners of his blue eyes. “Good. I like artists who are sure of themselves, Mrs. O’Brien. A few years ago, I hired a young designer that Abel had recommended and business skyrocketed. I’d love to see your drawings. Why don’t you drop by the store next week and show them to me.” Excitement at the prospect of having an expert critique her work made her giddy but at the same time she didn’t appreciate Abel’s bold gesture ... She still felt unsure of herself and wanted to take her time. “I don’t know what to say.” “Say yes,” Abel stated with a twinkle in his eyes. Tess sensed he probably referred to more than just the drawings. She flicked her gaze back to the jeweler. “That sounds wonderful. Thank you very much. I’ll come by ... soon.”

***** Later by the bar, Tess turned to Abel. She needed to be gentle and not show the irritation she felt at Abel’s interference. “I want to thank you for your introduction to Mr. Embry ... it was a thoughtful gesture, but I thought I made it clear I wanted to do this on my own.” He gave her an indulgent look similar to many obliging looks Quinn had given her over the years. “I know and I understand, but there’s nothing wrong with a little help.” She sighed inwardly. Why won’t he listen to me? “Matthew Embry is one of the most prominent jewelers in the city.”

Why did he have to use that placating tone? “His endorsement and influence could mean the difference between success and failure.” She was tired of the men in her life smothering her wishes and desires with a dense blanket of their own ... Why couldn’t they ask her first for her opinion? Why couldn’t they let her run her own life? “Yes, but --” “Good evening, Tess.” The sound of Cullinan’s voice resonated through her like the irresistible lure of home to a traveler after a long absence. A bloom of awareness and desire burned through her. Swallowing hard, she turned to him. His penetrating amber eyes fixed on hers as though he saw into her very soul. She fought against the vortex of sensation his presence created. If she gave in to Cullinan’s charisma, he might hurt her again. Did she have the strength to risk her

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heart again? How could she resist him when he looked this incredible and smelled so wonderful? “Cullinan, it’s nice to see you.” Thank goodness she was able to keep her voice clear and even. “Have you met Abel?” Cullinan briefly turned his gaze to Abel. “We haven’t met face-to-face, just through a search warrant.” Abel nodded ... “Yes, the warrant. Too bad about the stolen jade egg.” Cullinan raised a brow. Tess noticed a muscle working in his jaw. “Stolen? I don’t think so.” His voice was ripe with challenge. “When the museum in Philadelphia confirms it was part of their collection, you’ll think differently. In fact everyone will,” Abel answered, shooting a glance at Tess. “If you’ll excuse us, Cullinan, we were about to get something to eat,” Tess said, hoping to diffuse the situation that was spiraling out of control ... Cullinan looked at Tess with observant and compelling eyes, his gaze cruising over her face. “Would you give me the first dance after I officially start this party?” Tess looked at Abel, who stiffened slightly, then back at Cullinan. “Well, I --” Cullinan glanced at Abel. “You wouldn’t mind, would you, Counselor?” He stared at Abel as though daring him to refuse. Two dogs after the same bone: me, she thought. Abel smiled thinly and nodded. “Not at all. I’m a generous man. To a point.” A thread of warning laced Abel’s words. Cullinan looked back at Tess. “Good, it’s settled then. I won’t be long.” Tess watched Cullinan leave and wondered what he was thinking. How could he just walk up to them like that and blatantly throw the gauntlet at Abel’s feet? Why had she agreed to dance with him? He’d already fanned the flames of her attraction to him with his mere presence. What would happen when they danced and she found herself back in his arms again? Would she fall as helplessly in love with him as she had before? “Well, your friend certainly has balls, I’ll give him that.” Abel’s unusually crass statement drew Tess from her thoughts. She touched Abel’s arm. “I’m sorry, Abel. If you’d rather I didn’t dance with him ...” Abel shrugged. “No, of course not.” He took her empty glass. “I’ll go get us some more drinks.” Tess debated her decision to dance with Cullinan while he made his announcement and instructed the guests how to bid on the jewelry. Before she could think of a plausible excuse to back out of it, he returned to her side and swept her out onto the dance floor. They moved slowly among the clusters of other dancers while the music flowed around them in a melodic stream ...

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Being in Cullinan’s arms made her heart pant like a wild thing in her chest trying to break free from its cage. Tingles raced over her skin and dipped into her stomach. Her hand felt small and delicate in Cullinan’s large palm but his touch was different from Abel’s, more self-assured and confident ... His caress stroked the knot of uncertainty she held inside silently and asked her to trust him. Feeling his gaze on her, she looked up at him and nearly drowned in his golden eyes. The corners of his lips tipped upward. “Why are you looking at me like that?” “Because you’re still so beautiful.” No way would she let his words get to her. Her gaze stayed fixed on his while her anger slowly built like a winter storm simmering over the mountains. “Cullinan, don’t.” His smile faded at her sharp tone. “I heard about the shooting in Washington Park on the news. My heart stopped while I listened and watched your picture and Hope’s flash on the screen. You were damn lucky neither of you were harmed.” She remembered sinking to the sofa in relief. “But you could have been. Both of you could be dead. Given your past inclinations toward rescuing damsels in distress, at least you for sure.” Seething, she squeezed his hand, letting her nails bite into his skin. “Did you play hero and push Hope out of harm’s way?” He frowned at her. “So what if I did? She’s my sister!” Her fury spewed inside her like a raging blizzard. “You could have been killed!” Her voice grated with icy fear. When several people glanced in their direction, Cullinan pulled her closer to him until his mouth hovered next to her ear. She tried to shift away but he wouldn’t let her. “Take it easy. The murderer wasn’t after either of us.” His voice was low and gentle. She’d heard that tone whenever he lowered his head to kiss her or when he nestled her next to his body after they’d made love. The memory of it made her heart ache to let him hold her like that again, but she refused to give into it. He raised his head and gave her an appraising look. “Would you have cared if I had died that day?” Shock rolled over her anger and she blinked in surprise. “How can you ask such a thing? Of course I would care.” He caressed her cheek with the tip of his finger. “Because I’m Hope’s brother or because you still care for me, Cullinan, the man?” His voice was soft and controlled but tinged with desire. Her emotions were such a jumble. He pulled her one way and Abel yanked her in the opposite direction. One represented safety and the other excitement. Didn’t women want both? What did she want? There was nothing safe about Cullinan. Yet he always summoned emotion from the depths of her soul ... In the periphery of her vision, she saw Abel dancing with a woman from his office. Tess had been out to lunch

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once and had drinks another night with Abel, but she’d felt nothing except friendship and warmth ... He never drew such emotion from her -- not like Cullinan did. “Answer my question.” Cullinan’s voice drew her out of her thoughts and back to him. She looked at him, knowing she could deny it no longer. She’d love him for the rest of her life. The wall of denial she’d worked years to construct around her vulnerable heart suddenly toppled. “I care about you ... Cullinan, the man.” Saying the words aloud permeated her with emotional strength she never knew she had, a strength that only Cullinan could give her. To her utter surprise, she watched tears pool in his eyes. “Thank God.” He murmured the words, drew her close to him and kissed her lightly on the cheek. She listened to his deep sigh. “I have something to show you.” Tess looked up at him and arched a brow as a delicious sensation of desire curled through her. “Really.” Almost unbearable anticipation glinted in his eyes. “Yes ... really, but that’s not what I mean. At least not now.” He paused for a moment. “I have your necklace.” His tone was so soft she almost didn’t hear him. When his words finally penetrated her brain, she stiffened a moment in his arms before they continued to dance. “Here? Now?” “Yes.” She looked him over, half expecting to see the pendant hanging from a pocket. “Why don’t you give it to me?” He grinned ... “I’d like to, believe me.” Tess knew he wasn’t referring to her necklace. Wet heat gathered between her thighs. “It’s strapped to my inner thigh at the moment.” “It’s strapped to your --” Right next to his ... Tess felt the blush burn over her neck as if he knew the sensuality he stirred to life within her body ... A corner of his mouth kicked up. “That’s right.” His amusement at her discomfort morphed into a more serious expression. “I have something to tell you and I need you to listen. Your necklace is part of a bigger picture.” Tess frowned. “Bigger picture? What do you mean?” Her heart skipped a beat. “I’ve never told anyone this. I swore to my father I would keep his secret, but I have to tell you now.” The urgency in his voice silenced her. Tess listened as Cullinan related a fantastic story about the pendant’s curse and belonging to a saint and how his father was a member of a mysterious Order of the Dove. Her mind reeled at his words.

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“Are you saying you believe Quinn died that day because of a curse?” She shook her head. “That’s ridiculous. I don’t believe it.” Despite her protest, deep inside she almost believed him. “He died because of a bunch of terrorists. Nothing more.” She pulled away from him. “Why would you make up such a story?” He pressed his lips together and stared into her eyes. “Listen to me. It’s not a story. It’s the truth. I promised my father I would continue to search for the pendant until the day I died. If I found it, I would return it to the church of Saint Columba in Scotland. I traced some of the previous owners. They all came to a violent end. Even Marie Antoinette.” Tess cocked her head to the side. “What has she got to do with it?” “She was one of the owners and you know what happened to her.” Tess lifted her hand and laid it at the base of her throat. Cullinan smiled. “Don’t worry. The curse only affects those who purchase the necklace.” His smile faded. “Hope and I are leaving tonight for Scotland. We have a private plane waiting at Centennial airport. I want you to come with us.”

***** Nick walked slowly along the perimeter of the ballroom, trying to keep an eye on the jewels and yet mix with the partygoers. His rented tuxedo might as well have been a straightjacket. He wanted to loosen the bow tie at his throat but he resisted. Damn, he wanted to be anywhere but here. Then he saw Hope. She looked gorgeous in a red form-fitting gown with her hair twisted up and earrings dangling from her ears. He remembered the taste of those ears, the texture and scent she’d dabbed behind them to tease him. He watched her chatting with an older woman. She took a sip of her drink and laughed at something the lady said. Hope’s gaze locked onto his. He saw a flash of surprise followed by heat. Even from a distance, she drew him as though she’d tied a golden rope of desire around his heart ... When she moved even slightly her gown glittered and her earrings shimmied seductively. Her curves called to him. Memories of the incredible sex they’d shared in the conservatory while overhead meteors showered the night sky almost overwhelmed him. All sparkle and light. She temptingly licked her lips then excused herself from the woman. As she walked toward him, she stared at him. Her hips shifted with each step, making him grow hard. Her low-cut dress revealed a generous amount of cleavage. Her skin looked rosy under the lights. He knew that it was soft like heated silk. When she stopped next to him, he had to ball his hands into fists at his sides to keep from crushing her against his chest. “Nick, I’m surprised to see you here.” Her voice was a low purr.

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“I’m part of the security detail. The department had a tip that the Dove might strike again. There’s a lot of bling here tonight not only on the carousel but around many necks. With your brother here anything could happen.” She seemed to devour him with her eyes. “Cullinan hosts this event every year. If he were the Dove -- which he isn’t -- there’s no way he would steal from a charity that’s dedicated to helping children.” A bite of irritation colored her voice and fueled his arousal. “Maybe, maybe not.” He took her hand and threaded his fingers through hers, pressing their palms firmly together, letting the need he felt for her rise in his blood. “But I don’t want to talk about your brother right now. I want you in my arms. Let’s dance.” When Nick curved his arm around her waist he felt his skin grow tight and a sense of restlessness he’d felt for years settled inside him. He wanted to bring her hand to his mouth and kiss her fingers the way he had the other night but he wouldn’t. He was a cop trying to catch her brother and she was an A.D.A. For the benefit of the people around them, they had to appear as acquaintances, or friends at most. There was no reason why he couldn’t tell her what he was thinking and feeling or what he wanted. He rubbed his thumb over the top of her hand. “Have I told you yet how gorgeous you look?” She smiled slightly ... “No, but thank you. You look damn pretty yourself.” “Pretty? No way. Cops don’t look pretty.” “Sorry, pretty boy, how about handsome.” She reached out and fingered the lapel of his jacket. “Even delicious.” The sound of her voice reminded him of her husky pleading tones as she begged him for release on the banyan platform ... He shifted closer to her and arched a brow. “Good enough to eat?” He watched as a cute blush burned over her cheeks. “Nick, please someone might hear you.” Her scent drove him crazy. She wore the same one the other night. He saw the desire bloom in her eyes, the heat. She remembered and she was aroused. He pulled her even closer. Her eyes widened and her lips parted. “Don’t worry; I’m not going to kiss you in the middle of the dance floor. If I did I’d strip that dress off of you and I wouldn’t stop until every inch of me was buried inside you.” Her eyes darkened and her chest heaved slightly, tempting him with her cleavage, but she remained silent. “I won’t put my tongue in your mouth and taste you the way I’m dying to right now. Smile like I just said something funny or the people dancing around us might think we’re more than just friends.” “We aren’t more than just friends. We had sex. Big deal. People have sex all the time.” Husky and slightly tremulous, her voice mocked her words.

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Nick laughed when he saw the lie in her eyes. “Baby,” he said in a voice intended only for her ears, “do you lick all of your male friends’ cocks the way you licked mine?” The blush on her cheeks deepened. Her nipples puckered invitingly beneath the silky material of her gown. Her lips parted on a quick indrawn breath. “Stop it.” Her whisper held little conviction. “I didn’t think so.” Hope nodded at a couple who danced past them. Something occurred to him, a fact he hadn’t considered until that moment and it made him want to hold her and make love to her again even more. “You’ve never been that bold with a man, have you?” She darted a glance in his direction, then forced a smile. “No.” Her quiet word made him realize that he was someone special. So was she. No matter how much he’d like to deny it. “I consider myself a strong man, a man who can control his libido, but lady, you’ve just shredded it into bits.” The song ended. He didn’t want to let her go. Nick cocked his head toward a draped alcove on the north wall of the huge ballroom. “If I don’t kiss you in the next three minutes, I’m going to die. I’ll meet you there in two, but first I need to check the carousel.” She gave him an alluring look as he slid her from his arms. Clenching his jaw to keep from holding her again, he turned and disappeared into the crowd. Hope could scarcely catch her breath. Earlier, when she’d seen him across the room, she could all but taste him, feel him. His words while they danced had thrown her sex drive into a tizzy. God help her, she needed to feel him move inside her again. She turned to go after him but bumped into her brother instead. “Nice opening speech. You charmed them all as usual.” Hope looked past him hoping to catch a glimpse of Nick but all she saw was a mixture of men in black tuxedoes and women in a variety of ball gowns. Cullinan shrugged. “I saw you dancing with Morelli. You even blushed a couple of times. Has something happened between the two of you I should know about?” His voice was like a principal speaking to a tardy student. Hope looked him straight in the eye and hoped he believed her. “No.” Cullinan narrowed his eyes and his lips thinned. “You’ve slept with him, haven’t you?” Hope glanced nervously around them. “Keep your voice down.” “Well?” She squared her shoulders. “My sex life is none of your business. Now if you’ll excuse me.” She walked away before he could say anything further.

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Hope was still fuming when she looked discreetly around her to make sure no one was looking her way before she stepped behind the drapery. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness after the bright light of the ballroom. She had a brief vision of a small alcove with a padded seat beneath a window that overlooked the city before Nick pulled her into his arms. His need for her sucked her under. Like the flash of a dying star’s light, she remembered every touch, every nuance of the night they made love. Not just once, but twice. Even after the security guard had entered the conservatory, they had both come while the man walked around the place checking the other doors. Nick had covered her mouth with his to muffle her moans of pleasure ... A quivering stream of want zipped madly through her veins as his hands groped for the zipper on her dress. Before she could blink, he’d wrapped his hands around her breasts. His thumbs stroked her nipples, sending hot streaks of need down to her core. His mouth moved greedily over hers again, then he lowered his head and loved her nipples, tasting the peaks with his tongue. She barely listened to the sounds of the voices and the tinkle of glasses drifting through the closed curtain until footsteps moved closer. Nick shifted, pulling her with him deeper into the shadows, away from the ambient light from the city shining through the window. He placed his mouth next to her ear ... As he spoke, his lips lightly grazed the lobe and his breath wafted warmly over her skin. “No one knows we’re here.” He kissed her on the neck. Arousal tormented her senses, causing a haze to settle over her brain ... “Are you wearing panty hose?” “No --” She gasped when he sucked the hollow at her throat. “Stockings.” “Lucky for me.” She heard the grin in his voice and allowed him to sweep her further down the sensuous path he created. His hands bunched the lower part of her dress in his fingers, slowly baring her calves, then her thighs. Finally, her dress bunched around her waist. His strong hands shifted to her fanny. “Sweet Jesus, you’re wearing a thong.” He groaned the words. “I’ll enjoy having you model it for me another time, but right now I need you bare-assed naked ...” He yanked the skimpy material down to her ankles. She removed her shoes, worked her feet out of the thong and kicked it aside. Her head lolled against the wall at her back as his hands slid over her skin igniting little blazes of passion with each touch. He parted her folds and rubbed his callused thumb over her clitoris ... The orgasm engulfed her so swiftly she nearly stopped breathing. Hope’s mind barely registered the slide of his zipper before he lifted her legs and clasped them around his waist. With a carnal moan, he shoved. Her wet, inner muscles

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closed around his shaft holding him securely within her. He pushed deeper inside her, thrusting hard, causing her fanny to slap against the wall. The sounds of the party outside the curtain faded to a soft murmur. Her world narrowed down to Nick’s demanding penis embedded inside her. Her own womanly passage ravenously accepted his glorious invasion. Again, the hot, wet need to come consumed her like a living fire until there was nothing left but to give into it. Nick’s mouth trapped hers, smothering her sob of ecstasy as they soared together. “I thought I saw Hope head this way,” Cullinan’s voice murmured.

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Chapter Eleven Tess loved Cullinan. She loved him with her whole being. Inwardly, she beamed with the knowledge. Thank God, she’d finally admitted it to herself. A sense of peace permeated Tess’s soul as she looked around the ball room for Abel and saw him standing next to the carousel. How could she have ever considered Abel when her heart belonged to Cullinan? When Abel saw her, he smiled and held out his hand. She stepped up beside him and briefly grasped his fingers, giving them a friendly squeeze before letting go. “Where’s my drink?” Abel shrugged. “Too crowded. I’ll try again in a minute.” Tess tried to focus on the jewelry but Cullinan’s incredible story about her pendant and its history spun endlessly through her mind. Tess thought about the curse and Quinn dying so horribly. She recalled her grief over his death and her struggles to build a new life for herself. What about the other people who had lost loved ones in the tragedy of 9/11? They had grieved and struggled too. What about the other wives who had lost their husbands? Was this curse really true? How could this curse be related to 9/11? Quinn wasn’t the only person to die. Did all of those people die because of her pendant? Didn’t she owe ending the curse to Quinn and anyone else in the future who might acquire the necklace? Abel touched her arm. “Are you all right? You have the most serious look on your face.” His voice was concerned; his eyes appraised her with compassion. Tess pushed her troubling thoughts away. “I’m fine, Abel. We need to talk ... about a lot of things.” How would she find the right words to tell Abel about her feelings for Cullinan without hurting him? His hazel eyes sparkled. “Yes, we do.” He stepped closer.

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His designer aftershave tickled her nose. She preferred Cullinan’s basic scent of soap mixed with the unique smell of his skin. “Tess, I care for you and want you in my life. There, I’ve said it.” His voice rang with uninhibited zeal. “I didn’t think I could ever care for another woman again after Leann died.” His face shone with the depth of his feelings. He touched her cheek with his fingertips. “When I met you ... I felt myself coming alive again.” Tenderness suffused his voice urging her to say she cared for him too. But she couldn’t. Oh, God, she didn’t want to hurt him, but she had to tell him she loved Cullinan. Tess had seen the interest in Abel’s eyes the day he’d come by her house bringing homemade soup and fresh flowers but she assumed his feelings were familial because she had been his brother’s wife. “Abel, I --” “Don’t say anything. Please, let me finish.” His eyes gleamed with passionate desperation as he stepped even closer to her. He reached out, grasped her fingers and brought the back of her hand briefly to his lips for a soft kiss. “I love you.” His voice was low and husky. “I want you to marry me.” Tess’s mouth fell open at his confession while shock rioted through her. “I can’t.” She raised her hand, laid it in the middle of her chest and shook her head. “I simply can’t.” He gave her an indulgent smile, let go of her hand and cocked his head to one side. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that. Of course you’re overwhelmed and might not love me now but given time I’m sure your feelings will change.” A wistful note of certainty colored his voice. Irritation at his assumption snaked up her spine. She reminded herself that his feelings, not hers were about to be stomped on, and shoved her resentment at being maneuvered by him aside for the moment. She bunched her hands into loose fists at her sides. “No, they won’t change.” Her voice was firm but gentle. A wry expression twisted his mouth. “How do you know if you don’t give yourself a chance?” She heard the displeasure in his voice. She should never have gone out with him in the first place. Tess touched his arm. “Abel, you’re a good man ... just like your brother.” He winced slightly and she shook her head. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not comparing you to Quinn. You’re two completely different people but in some ways you’re a lot alike.” She removed her hand from his arm and smoothed her fingers over her brow. “Quinn tried to protect and guide me and so do you. I appreciate it, I truly do.” Confusion blanketed his face. “Let me explain. When Quinn died something inside me died with him, but later I discovered that a part of me awakened as well, a part I didn’t know I had ... a need for independence. Now I’m enjoying my newfound freedom and learning to spread my wings. I can never go back to --”

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The expression in his eyes turned cool and the confident look on his face changed to indignation. “It’s Benedict isn’t it?” His voice was accusing and tense. “Cullinan and I knew each other before I met Quinn. In fact, we had a relationship. After we broke up, I thought it was over for good; otherwise I would never have gotten involved with Quinn and married him.” She paused when Abel tilted his head back and an icy light glimmered in his eyes. He must think she never cared for his brother. She had to make him understand. “Make no mistake, Abel, I loved your brother, I still do, but I still love Cullinan as well. It’s a different kind of love but it’s there and it will never leave me.” She exhaled a deep breath, relieved that she’d told him the truth. “Abel, I never meant to lead you on. One day you’re going to find a woman who loves and appreciates you.” She remembered the A.D.A. she’d seen him talking to. “In case you’re blind and haven’t noticed, that young woman from your office is definitely interested.” Abel shook his head, keeping his gaze pinned on her. “I don’t care for her.” He took a step forward and inhaled a deep breath as if trying to control his emotions. “I care for you, damn it.” His voice grated with a pleading tone like a man grasping for a lifeline. Her heart ached for the pain she caused him. “I know and I’m sorry I’ve hurt you.” She paused for a moment. “But I haven’t told you everything.” Tess told him about the pendant and its history. When she finished, Abel laughed. “You don’t actually believe that ridiculous story, do you?” Skepticism and contempt laced his voice. Tess looked at him. “Yes, I do.” How could she have ever believed otherwise? Abel grasped her gently by the shoulders and stared into her eyes. “Cullinan isn’t the right man for you.” Desperation edged his voice. “He stole the pendant ... Surely you can see that now.” She tried to squirm from his hold but he wouldn’t let her go. She saw Abel’s true personality emerging and she didn’t like it. Not one little bit. “No. He didn’t.” He gave her a slight shake. “Listen to me. He’s trying to trick you. Don’t let him!” Cullinan’s earlier words filtered through her mind. Please come with me. Let me prove

it to you. You’ve said all these years that I wasn’t honest with you about being a thief. I may have been a thief but I did it for a noble purpose. I didn’t steal because I was greedy; I stole in hopes of one day finding the pendant so I could return it to the church in Scotland. Tess stiffened her upper body and glared at him. “Let me go.” Slowly, Abel loosened his hold on her shoulders. His arms fell to his sides. He looked at her with anger burning in his eyes as though someone had just stolen his most valuable possession. Only she was no one’s possession.

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Tess squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “My whole life I’ve let other people manipulate and lead me in the direction they thought best. Not once did they ever consider what I wanted. To tell you the truth I let it happen because I convinced myself they were right.” She gestured with her right hand. “First my parents, then Quinn ... and for a while ... you. That ends now.”

Cullinan never did. He let me try my wings, he encouraged me. Tess held out her hand to Abel for a shake. “Goodbye, Abel.” He took her hand and held it between his in a firm but gentle grip. “Tess, you’ve got to listen to me.” He used his D.A. voice, the one he employed during an interview when he wanted to make his point. Tess pulled her hand from his. “No. From now on the only voice I listen to is the only voice that counts. My own.”

***** Cullinan barely heard the conversation around him because he was too busy watching Tess and Abel. Hope was right. Abel was most definitely interested in Tess. He looked at her like a hungry lion salivating over his prey. Hope’s words echoed in his mind. He’ll clip her wings. Yes, he probably would -- given half a chance -- but Abel wouldn’t have that chance after tonight. Cullinan intended to have Tess by his side on the plane and he would do whatever it took to make that happen. “What do you think, Cullinan?” Jerked from his thoughts he stared at one of the charity’s board members. “I’m sorry, Jim, what were you saying?” Jim laughed and glanced in Tess’s direction. “Never mind. I can see your mind is occupied with that young woman over there. She seems rather chummy with D.A. O’Brien.” He gestured toward Tess and Abel with his drink. “Careful the ground you tread, Cullinan. The man can be vicious when he wants something and someone threatens to take it away from him. I should know. We were after the same piece of real estate last year. Guess who won?” Real estate. Tess wasn’t a piece of damn property. It irked him that the man would infer it and he suddenly wanted to punch him in the face. Instead, he stuck his hand in the pocket of his jacket and closed his fingers around the object resting there. Feeling it calmed his anger, reminding him of a long ago Valentine’s Day. “Don’t worry, I can take care of myself, but thanks for the warning.” Cullinan excused himself and walked in Tess’s direction.

*****

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When Cullinan stepped up beside Tess and Abel, Tess’s gaze met his. He saw the tension in her pretty eyes and the tightness around her sensual mouth. Damn it, Abel had obviously upset her. Cullinan brushed her cheek with the back of his hand hoping to soothe her and she smiled at him ... He shifted his gaze to Abel, who eyed him with contempt. “Is there a problem here?” Tess shook her head. “No problem.” Despite her polite tone, irritation edged her voice. Abel laughed in a bitter, mocking sound, cocked his head slightly back and sneered at Cullinan. “I’ll wager that Tess isn’t the only woman you’ve manipulated with your charisma and charm.” His hard, exact voice sliced through the false atmosphere of affability like a hot blade. Cullinan frowned at Abel as his anger rose, lashing through his veins and heating his blood. “What do you mean?” His tone was low like the distant rumble of thunder before a storm moves in. Abel folded his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels. “Tell me ... how did you manage to convince Tess to believe that wild tale about the necklace?” His voice dripped with sarcasm. Cullinan glanced at Tess. His confidence that she truly loved and trusted him wafted like a warm wind through his soul. He wanted to take her in his arms right now in the middle of the ballroom and show her his gratitude for believing in him and for standing with him against Abel. Instead, he took her hand, brought her fingers to his lips and lightly kissed them. Her eyes warmed with an irrepressible light. “It isn’t a wild tale, it’s the truth.” He kept his gaze fixed on Tess. “Are you ready?” She nodded. Abel reached out and grabbed Tess’s other hand, pulling her slightly toward him. “There’s no way I’m going to let you walk out of here with Tess.” Abel looked at Tess, his eyes glittering with determination, his mouth set in a rigid line. “He’s a common thief, nothing more. You belong here with me, not with him.” He jerked his head toward Cullinan and held out his free hand. “Give me the necklace and we’ll end this ... Right here. Right now. “ “Believe me, I wish I could end it here but I can’t. The pendant doesn’t belong to you or me or even Tess. It belongs to a church in Scotland. I gave an oath that if I ever found it, I would return it.” “You can walk away a free man,” Abel continued, “but you have to do it without Tess.” An implacable expression covered Abel’s face. What more could Cullinan say? He could never get through to Abel unless he saw the church for himself but he wasn’t going to invite Abel to come along. The journey belonged to him, Hope and Tess. Cullinan glanced at Tess, the woman he loved beyond all reason. “I’ll never leave her.”

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“I’ll have you arrested if you try to leave the country with that pendant ... One of my A.D.A.’s informed me earlier the museum in Philadelphia confirmed the jade egg discovered in your shop is the same one stolen from them years before.” Cullinan exhaled a deep breath. “That egg belonged to my father who purchased it from what he assumed was a legitimate dealer. Obviously, he wasn’t ... but my father had no way of knowing that. You can’t prove otherwise.” A taut expression covered Abel’s face. “Maybe, maybe not.” He grasped Tess’s hand between his own and looked at her. “Tess, this man is not for you. Don’t listen to him, stop letting him influence you.” He paused for a moment his expression softening. “I’m an honest man who can give you an honest life. How can you ever be sure he cares about you? How will you ever know if he’s telling the truth about anything?” Cullinan watched Tess’s face carefully as Abel spoke in a gentle, convincing tone ... His heart pounded a rough tattoo in his chest. A cloud of uneasiness that she might change her mind and agree with Abel cast a shadow of uncertainty over his soul. Slowly, Tess turned her head and looked at Cullinan. A stream of elation poured through Cullinan like cool water on a hot day. There wasn’t the slightest hint of doubt in her eyes. “I’ll know ... because I’m going to Scotland with him.” Abel’s eyes widened with shock and his mouth popped open. His gaze darted from Tess to Cullinan and back again. “What! You can’t. Don’t do this, Tess.” His loud tone had people staring in their direction but Abel didn’t seem to notice or care. Out of the corner of his eye, Cullinan saw Hope moving in their direction with a frown on her face. “You’ll be making the biggest mistake of your life.” Abel turned his head and glared at Cullinan. “If you cared for her at all, you’d walk away.” “If I walk anywhere Tess will be by my side ...” He glanced at his watch. “Let’s go.” Cullinan grasped Tess’s left arm. At the same time, Abel grabbed her right arm. Now, Tess stood equidistant between them. “No, I refuse to let you do this ...” A stony mask of anger blanketed Tess’s face. Her eyes gleamed with fury. She yanked her arms from their hold and held them stiffly at her sides. “Stop it. Stop this right now.” Her severe tone jabbed at Cullinan, surprising him. He’d never seen her this mad before. “I’ve reached the end of my rope --” She gestured wildly. “-- with people telling me what to do and insisting they know what’s best for me.” She poked a finger in the middle of her chest. “I’m my own woman and I don’t need either of you telling me what to do. I’ve had it.” She shoved her purse under her arm as her cold, exacting gaze shifted from Cullinan to Abel and back again. “I’m leaving. Alone. And if either of you try to follow me, so help me you’ll regret it.” Her words punched the air in a grating tone. Turning, Tess stalked toward the door with her head held high.

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Simultaneously, Cullinan and Abel stepped forward to follow her. “Oh, no you don’t.” Cullinan stopped at the sound of Hope’s voice as her fingers dug into his arm. His last glimpse of Tess was the hem of her gown as she sailed through the ballroom door. Cullinan jerked his head around to glare at his sister and saw that she held Abel’s arm in a death grip as well. “Leave Tess alone.” Hope glanced from Cullinan to Abel. “Once she’s cooled off she’ll decide what she wants to do -- without help from either of you.” She snapped the words out in rapid fire ... Abel wrenched his arm from her hold. “Damn it, I don’t like any of this.” “You don’t have to like it,” Hope said in a terse voice. Abel’s lips thinned as he studied Hope. “I don’t mean just Tess. Why didn’t you tell me about your brother?” His tense, clipped voice demanded that she answer. Hope’s face grew still and somber, her irritation at their behavior fading. “I’m sorry, Abel. I didn’t want my skills as a lawyer or my integrity as a person to be questioned by you or anyone.” Her voice rang with pride. “I knew it would be if I told you about Cullinan.” Guilt burned through Cullinan. He should have encouraged her to come clean. If he had, she wouldn’t be in danger of losing her job. Abel cleared his throat. His confident gaze stayed pinned to Hope. “If you want to keep your job, help me convince Tess to stay here and not run off with your brother.” Cool authority filled his voice, brooking no opposition. Hope gazed at Cullinan without guile or blame then shifted her attention back to Abel. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.” She took Cullinan’s hand, her fingers wrapping around his. “I’m going with him and I hope Tess decides to do the same.” Her voice was soft, yet determined. Abel stiffened and straightened the lapel of his jacket. “You’re fired.”

***** Alex Case leaned back against the soft, leather seat of his large black Mercedes and waited. Mozart flowed from the stereo in one long ribbon of sound. Heat pumped into the interior but didn’t chase away the chill from his bones. He shivered beneath his cashmere coat. Chemo had stolen his strength and once vibrant health, while whittling pounds from his body he didn’t need to lose. He would have left Denver and moved to a warmer climate like Vegas or Phoenix if he didn’t need that damn pendant so badly. Pain knifed through his head. He shoved a hand into the pocket of his coat and withdrew a bottle of pills. He pried off the lid, shook two pills into his palm then popped them into his mouth. Grabbing a can of ginger ale from the drink holder, he gulped down some of the fizzy liquid. A wave of nausea

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undulated through his stomach. He lowered the can and inhaled some slow, deep breaths until it passed. The side effects from the chemo would be worth it if only the treatment was working. His last MRI had shown an increase in size of the inoperable tumor quickly eating away at his brain. He had barely weeks left to live, maybe even days. Only the pendant could save him. With his thumb, he snapped the lid back on the bottle. He’d been so close to getting his hands on the pendant that day in the park. If he had, he’d be cured by now. And if the cancer happened to return in the future, he could use it to cure himself all over again. “There they are, boss.” He straightened at the sound of his driver’s voice and watched Hope and Cullinan Benedict exit the hotel. Jacob’s son and daughter. He’d discreetly had their apartments searched and found no trace of the pendant. He knew that Cullinan would never have surrendered the pendant to the police. He had a mission to fulfill. Alex had been following them ever since, waiting for the right opportunity to confront them. He balled his hands into tight fists as he watched them get into a black SUV and head down Broadway. “Follow them.” His driver pulled the Mercedes away from the curb. For every moment of suffering he’d endured, he’d put a bullet in each of their brains.

***** Tess practically ran to the bank of elevators. She jabbed the call button as hot, stinging anger shimmered through her. How could two grown, intelligent men act like a couple of baboons? They’d fought over her like two children wanting to play with a favorite toy. Only she was no toy. Tess glanced up at the floor indicator and saw that the elevator car had stopped two floors above her ... Not wanting to wait another moment, she walked quickly for the nearest stairwell. She pushed open the door, picked up the hem of her long dress and sprinted down the stairs ... By the time she reached the hotel lobby most of her anger had dissipated. Once outside, she heaved a deep breath of the icy, night air and headed for a line of taxis waiting to ferry departing guests. As she settled into the back of the cab, a smile curved her lips. She couldn’t wait to see Cullinan’s face when he saw her at the airport.

***** Nick slammed his palm against the front door of the hotel and stepped outside just in time to see Cullinan and Hope drive away. Quickly, he sprinted to his vintage Mustang to follow them. Hope and Cullinan pulled into Centennial Airport, a private airstrip, exited

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their car and walked toward the small jet waiting on the runway. Just as he climbed out of his car, a taxi pulled up. The passenger door flew open and Tess O’Brien practically leaped from the back seat. He watched her run toward the jet calling for Cullinan. When she reached the plane, she flung her arms around his neck and he lifted her from the ground twirling her in a circle. Nice little reunion. Nick started toward the plane. “Hold it.” Cullinan, Hope and Tess turned around and stared at him. Cullinan wrapped his arm around Tess’s waist, pulling her close to him ... Nick glanced at Hope. He remembered every second of their intense lovemaking session in the shadowy alcove of the ballroom. His skin retained the smell of her body, and her taste still coated his tongue. Even his fingers tingled with the warm sensation the touch and feel of her aroused in him. Now here she was running away like a thief in the night -just like her brother. The terrifying realization that he had fallen hopelessly in love with her enveloped his heart and soul. However, he had to put his personal feelings aside and act like a cop rather than a lovesick fool. He tore his gaze away from Hope and glared at Cullinan. “Benedict, I believe the department told you not to leave town.” “Nick ... please, it isn’t what you think.” Hope’s pleading voice tore at him ... Her violet eyes held ever memory of the sex they’d shared, every hot, sweaty minute of it. “What am I thinking?” His voice wasn’t that of a cop questioning a suspect but of a man questioning his lover. “You think my brother is trying to flee but that’s not --” “You bet, Counselor. He was asked not to leave town. You’re an officer of the court which means you’re aiding and abetting.” He saw her stiffen at the harsh tone in his voice but he had a job to do. Hope’s gaze pierced the few feet that separated them. “Don’t quote the law to me, Detective.” Good, he’d made her angry. Maybe she’d come to her senses and uphold the law instead of breaking it. Instead, she glanced at Cullinan. “Tell him.” A gentle urgency imbued her voice but at the same time, Nick felt it was something she really didn’t want Cullinan to reveal. Anticipation curled through Nick. What could it possibly be? “Tell me what?” Relieved that he sounded like a cop again, Nick shifted his gaze from Hope to Cullinan. Tess looked at Nick. “Cullinan isn’t the thief, Detective. My pendant has been returned, and Hope and Cullinan are going to help me get it back where it belongs -- in the monastery in Scotland. If you want to hear the whole story, it’s a long one and you’ll have to wait until we get back unless you have a passport handy.” An uncompromising tone filled her tired

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voice. “I’ll tell you everything on the way. Otherwise, you’d better take out your gun and shoot all of us because that’s the only thing that will keep us from leaving tonight.” What choice did he have? Nick retrieved his passport from the glove box of his car that he’d left there for safekeeping after his recent trip to Canada. As he stepped onto the plane and settled in a seat beside Hope he knew he had no choice but to go with them because he wasn’t about to let the woman he loved fly off into possible danger without him.

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Chapter Twelve Nick glanced out of the window in the lounge car. A cold rain mixed with sleet tapped at the pane of glass as the train sped rapidly into the dark Scottish night. His head still spun with everything Cullinan and Hope had told him concerning the pendant. He couldn’t believe he’d stepped on that plane and gone with them, but he’d had no choice. As a result, he and Cullinan had reached a temporary truce. He’d told himself he did it to follow the pendant but in truth, he did it to follow Hope. After what had happened that day in the park, the thought of her exposed to possible danger without him there to protect her scared him to death. He took a sip of his vodka and tonic. The liquid flowed like an icy stream down his throat, soothing the ragged edge of his anxiety. Hope’s beautiful face loomed like a beacon in his mind calling for him to reach out, hold her close and never let her go. Every memory of their time together over the past few weeks burned indelibly in his brain. >From the first minute she’d strolled into her brother’s antique shop through every kiss, every touch, every moment of making love together would stay in his mind forever. Suddenly his muscles tensed and a hard lump rose into his throat. To his horror, tears sprang into his eyes but he blinked them away. He raised his glass to his lips with a shaky hand, sipped and swallowed hard. He finished his drink and rose from his chair. She’d asked him to give her some time alone to relax and he’d given it to her. However, he needed to see her, hear her voice and hold her in his arms. Now. When he reached their door, he slipped his key card into the door’s slot. When he heard the click, he opened the door and stepped inside. Hope, wrapped in a chenille robe, sat on the bed amid clean white sheets and a thick blanket. She laid aside the magazine that she’d been reading and smiled at him. Caring and love eased through his body. He closed the door at his back and absorbed the sight of her.

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Her dark, glossy hair was pulled up in a ponytail, her face scrubbed free of makeup. Nick had napped on the plane with Hope wrapped in his arms, her head nestled on his shoulder. He hadn’t slept that soundly in years ... not since Rachel died. He’d waited for the lingering grief and sadness to fill him but it was gone. He still loved Rachel but loving her didn’t hurt anymore. He could think of her without feeling the sting of heartbreak slice through him ... Hope’s violet eyes appeared soft and a little sleepy. She had healed his wounded heart and it made him love her even more. He wanted to touch her but he knew if he did, one caress would lead to much more. He couldn’t help smiling as he surveyed their once neat and tidy room. Clothes, shoes and other girl stuff was scattered everywhere. “You’ve been busy.” She exhaled a long, audible breath. “Just getting comfortable. Sorry about the mess.” He wanted to get comfortable beneath the sheets with Hope, forget the pendant and lose himself in making love with her. But he had something to say first. “We need to talk.” “Okay.” Her smooth, husky voice made his skin quiver. She patted the spot beside her. An irresistible, sexy smile curved her tempting lips. “Come ... talk to me.” At her words, desire curled through him. He chuckled softly and shook his head. “Not that kind of talking ... although I look forward to seeing what you have on under that robe.” A twinkle of mischief lit her eyes. She reached for the belt. “I can show you now if you’d like.” He raised a hand stopping her. He would like nothing better than to sink into the softness of her body and make love to her properly. The three times they’d had sex had occurred in public places without benefit of a mattress. “Not yet. I have something to say and I’ll never say it if you distract me.” Hope threw back the covers, scooted to the end of the bed and lowered her legs over the side. She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her robe and looked at him with a teasing expression on her face. “I promise to keep my hands to myself.” Her voice lowered to a throaty tone. “For now.” Nick stepped over to the bed and sat on the edge beside her. The light from the nightstand fell softly over her face, a face he wanted to look at for the rest of his life. Love for her nearly overwhelmed him. He splayed his hands over the top of his thighs, turned and gazed into her violet eyes. “I don’t know where to start.” “Try the beginning.” Her voice was patient and gentle. He brushed a strand of hair away from her face then let his finger trail over her left cheek before lowering his hand to his thigh. Her sensual, feminine scent wafted over him, threatening to weaken his resolve ... He searched her face and eyes as if he could delve into her thoughts, immerse himself into the emotions of her heart.

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Oh, please, God, let her love me in return. “The thing is this, when Rachel died, I never thought I would care for another woman again much less love one.” When he said the word love, her lips parted and a gasp escaped. Her eyes grew soft and dreamy ... He grasped his knees with his hands to keep from reaching for her. “She filled my world and I expected to spend the rest of my life with her. Unfortunately, life doesn’t always work out the way we want it to. When she got sick I thought I’d never be happy again.” Nick looked down at Hope’s feet peeking out from beneath the robe. Her toenails were painted red. He suddenly had an urge to kiss those toes, the arch of her foot, the back of her knees, her thighs, then ... He pushed away his libidinous thoughts and glanced up at her. “Then I met you and you complicated the hell out of my life.” She raised her brows. “You didn’t exactly simplify mine.” Her voice was teasing ... He took her hand and closed his fingers around hers. Her touch, the delicate feel of her skin calmed his spirit. Clear and bright with emotion, her eyes appeared darker in the subdued light, her hair slightly mussed. He liked her face free of makeup, her skin fresh and glowing ... “Remember the night we went to the bar for a drink and I took you home?” A sensuous light lit her eyes. She reached out and traced his lips with her finger. Her gaze followed the movement of her hand. “How could I forget? We were in a major lip lock when my brother interrupted us.” Her caress made his lips tingle. A flash of excitement flickered through his veins. He wanted nothing more at this moment than to sample the flavor of her mouth again bringing back every delicious memory of their snow-filled kiss, but he had more to say before he could put the past behind him. “The next morning, I went by the cemetery to visit Rachel’s grave.” To his own ears, his voice was tremulous and thick. He kept his gaze on hers savoring every nuance of emotion filling the unfathomable depths of her eyes. Her face softened with sympathy and compassion. She squeezed his fingers briefly. “I’m so sorry about what happened to your wife.” Her voice was gentle and sincere. “Visiting her grave must be difficult for you.” More than she knew. “Yeah, it doesn’t comfort me the way it does when I visit my grandmother’s grave.” He glanced away then back at her. “This might sound crazy but I talk to my grandmother, tell her things about my life ... afterward I feel better. But it’s different with a spouse.” She nodded but didn’t say anything, silently asking him to continue. “The headstone was covered with snow. It looked so hard and cold. I knelt down and wiped the frost away so I could read her name ... and I hurt all over again. The loneliness that had opened up in my life when I lost her came rushing back.” As he said the words, he looked down at their clasped hands ... Then he lifted his head and looked directly at her. “But I felt something else too. That night when I took you in my arms, held you and kissed

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you, for the first time since her death, I felt myself coming alive again. Something eased inside me as if she was telling me it was okay to move on.” He brought Hope’s hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers. “Please understand that I will always care for and love her, but it doesn’t hurt anymore. And that’s because of you.” “Because of me?” Her voice was soft and raspy. A slight expression of surprise mingled with tenderness covered her face. A current of happiness flowed through him. He nodded. “I love you, Hope. I don’t know if you could ever care for me too, but --” Tears filled her eyes and a smile trembled over her lips. She touched his cheek. “I love you too.” Her words made a bright light of happiness turn on inside of him. A warm, giddy feeling engulfed him. Nick reached out, held her face between his hands and brought her mouth to his. He kissed her slowly, softly and almost reverently. “I can’t believe you love me too. I never thought I’d get another chance.” He grabbed her in a fierce hug and held her tightly in his arms. After a moment he drew back. “There’s one more thing.” She wiped the happy tears from her eyes and smiled. “I don’t know if I can stand any more good news or not.” “I think you can stand this. I spoke to the couple I told you about, you remember the ones who have been trying to have a baby? I told them about the baby whose mother had been killed and the man who was acquitted. They’re very interested. I gave them your number and asked them to contact your office.” She breathed in an excited breath. “Oh, Nick, that’s wonderful. I can’t wait to meet them. I don’t know how I can ever thank you.” He reached for the belt of her robe and began loosening it. “I have an idea.” She smiled at him and stood up. Slowly she slipped the robe from her shoulders. It fell to the floor. Her full, glorious breasts filled his vision tempting him beyond reason. “You said you wanted me to model my underwear for you.” Her silky voice whispered over his aroused nerve endings. “Still interested?” Nick grinned, laid back on the bed and began taking off his clothes. “Definitely. Strut your stuff.” With deliberate steps and her hips moving sensuously from side to side, she backed away. By the time she reached the center of the room, he was down to his briefs. Slowly, she swiveled on her feet. He nearly swallowed his tongue. Her curvy, luscious ass, clad in a bright red thong, bared to his eyes, tempted him beyond reason ... She turned her head and looked at him with a taunting smile bowing her

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lips. Desire gripped him in a vise as he rose from the bed and walked over to her. Barely an inch separated them, his hard penis reaching out for her. Her body heat drifted around him like a warm, voluptuous cloud. He moved closer and slid his shaft between her legs. She sighed with pleasure and ground her fanny against his abdomen. Nick lifted his hands, rested them briefly on her hips then glided his fingers over her abdomen to the crotch of her panties. He shoved his hands beneath the silky material, tunneled his fingers through her curls until he found her hot and wet. She sucked in a sharp breath and moaned. Ruthlessly, he rubbed her clitoris. The scent of her arousal mingling with her dusky perfume consumed his senses. Her body pushed and prodded against his fingers as she came, spilling the essence of her body onto his skin. A ragged cry of delight escaped her lips as her head fell back and rested on his shoulder. He sucked her right earlobe into his mouth, gently nipping it with his teeth. “Time for bed.” In a moment, they tumbled to the bed in a tangle of limbs and arms, his mouth seeking hers, his hands firm but gentle as he explored every inch of her body. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, urgently tasting every hidden recess. Her tongue dueled with his, inviting, coaxing, insisting. He traced a path of openmouthed kisses over her cheeks and neck until he found her breasts. Sucking first one nipple then the other into his mouth, he gloried in the taste and feel of them, laving them almost violently with his tongue. He tore his mouth from her breasts and kissed his way down her chest to her abdomen. Grasping the back of her knees, he spread her legs wide, baring her beautiful femininity to his gaze. With her musky scent filling his head, he caressed her eagerly with his lips, his tongue, in a deep, fulfilling hunger. Her fingers kneaded his shoulders. “Nick ... please, I want you inside me.” Her plea made his muscles tense with unfettered desire. He rose over her and moved his hands to her ass. Gripping it snugly, he plunged to the hilt inside her. She gasped in ecstasy, her hips pistoning in rhythm with his as he pumped in and out, his penis slippery with the fluid of her body. His mind cleared of everything except his body locked deep within Hope and his driving need to come. With their breath panting and their skin slicked with sweat, she came in a demanding orgasm, her inner muscles clutching him in a tight, wet hug. Swiftly, he followed her over the edge.

*****

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Tess stood facing Cullinan in the middle of their twin berth cabin with only inches separating them. Wanton desire wove a cocoon around them. Tess didn’t want to rush making love because she wanted to savor every delicious moment. A light beside the bed cast the room in a soft glow. As she stared into Cullinan’s loving eyes, she sucked in a breath, reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead ... His lips curved in a soft smile. “God, you’re beautiful. I can’t believe this moment is finally here. I wasn’t sure if we would ever be together again.” His voice lowered to barely a murmur. “I dreamed about it, but I thought you hated me because I never told you the truth about being a thief.” Surprised and disturbed by his statement, she frowned. “I could never hate you. No matter what you did.” Tess stroked the tips of her fingers over his cheek. “I love you. I never stopped loving you though God knows I tried.” Her gentle sparring brought a twinkle to his eyes. “I loved Quinn, but a part of me could never let go of you and the memory of the love we shared ...” Saying the words aloud filled her with contentment and joy as she realized they were true. She had never stopped loving him. His masculine, clean scent permeated the air soothing her soul and making her feel whole for the first time since Quinn’s death. She sighed and studied his face. “How can we be so lucky to have each other back again?” A wistful expression stole over his face. He grazed the back of his fingers over her neck. “We were meant to be. Are you ready?” He made her feel cherished, like a precious gift. She nodded, took off her shoes and reached for the top button on her blouse. “No, let me.” Cullinan loosened the buttons, his gaze riveting her to the floor. “Put your hands behind your back.” His words sent shivers of desire into her body, making her feel incredibly sexy and uninhibited. She did as he asked and waited impatiently for him to continue. When he reached the last button and slipped it from the hole, his hands touched her stomach. Tess inhaled a sharp breath at the intimate contact. With agonizing slowness, he slid the blouse from her shoulders and down her arms. His palms lightly caressed her skin and made awareness bloom in every secret part of her body ... The blouse fell in a puddle of light green silk on the floor. He reached for the snap on her pants. She stayed his hand. “No, it’s my turn.” She was pleased that her coquettish tone elicited a gleam of desire and need in his eyes. He lowered his arms.

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Tess reached for his polo shirt and tugged it free from the waistband of his pants. As she pulled his shirt up slowly uncovering inch by delectable inch of bare, male skin, she kissed and licked his chest lightly with her tongue. Looking at his groin, she saw the rigid tent his arousal made inside his pants. A spurt of female satisfaction zipped through her. Tess continued her sensuous exploration of his chest until she reached his nipples. She toyed with them, rubbing and coaxing them to hard points. His heart thudded in a fast rhythm beneath the ministrations of her mouth. “Raise your arms.” Tess pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it carelessly to the floor. She captured his gaze with hers and licked her lips. “Take off your pants and I’ll take off mine.” Watching him closely, Tess discarded her slacks and kicked them to the side. Cullinan stripped off his. Tess smiled. “I had forgotten you wear briefs.” She flicked her gaze to his upper thigh where the pendant was taped to his skin. “Are you going to remove that or do you plan on making love to me with a sacred stone attached next to your ... you know.” Cullinan looked at her, pressed his lips together, and grimaced as he yanked the tape from his leg. He held the pendant in his palm for a moment and glanced about the room. His gaze settled on the mattress. In a few seconds, the pendant was safely stored beneath the mattress. “There, no one will be the wiser.” Tess stepped closer, dipping her fingers into the waistband of his underwear and jerked them down to mid thigh. His erection sprang free, the tip glistening with evidence of his desire for her. Lowering herself, she took him fully into her mouth. His cry of pleasure made her smile inwardly. She’d never felt so daring or more in charge in her life. Controlling Cullinan felt wonderful. Tess wasn’t sure if it was the surge of feminine determination to turn Cullinan into a quivering mass of need or the reawakening of the deep love she held for him. He tunneled his fingers through her hair, holding her head gently in place. She kneaded his shaft with her lips and tongue, tasting and nipping him. The salty taste of him coated her tongue and she reveled in it. Pressing her lips around the head of his penis, she sucked firmly before releasing him. His gaze bore into hers, a fierce, primal expression that demanded she allow him to take all of her. Quickly, he removed his underwear and reached for her. Tess shook her head and made a tsking sound. “Not yet.” Every cell in her body prompted her to leap into his arms but she wanted to draw out their coupling as along as possible. When they did join their bodies once again, she wanted it to be a moment they would never forget. Tess unsnapped the clasp on the front of her bra to reveal her breasts to him.

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Cullinan stepped closer until his erection touched her stomach. He loved her with his eyes studying her light pink nipples. Her skin grew hotter and tighter beneath his seductive inspection. He leaned over, laid his mouth on hers and sampled her lips, gently rubbing back and forth before he laved them with his tongue. He lowered his right hand to her breast, his palm warm and callused against her skin. With his thumb, he rubbed her nipple until it hardened. In answer to his invitation, she opened her mouth to let him in. He plunged his tongue into her mouth. She groaned. Oh God, he tasted exactly as she remembered, slightly spicy mixed with his own unique flavor. He prodded her mouth with his tongue mimicking what his penis would do to her femininity. She grew wet and felt her own essence dribble down her thighs. Sweeping her hands up over his arms and shoulders, she fisted her fingers in his hair and greedily kissed him back. Unable to wait another moment, Tess yanked down her panties to mid thigh. She grasped his fanny and pulled his lower body against hers. His erection nudged her soft opening. Cullinan parted her curls and found her clit. He massaged it savagely until she felt her sensuous fluid stream over his fingers ... He brought her to peak but wouldn’t fling her over. She moaned in frustration as he kissed his way over her face and down her neck to her breasts where he worshipped them with his lips and tongue. Between one breath and the next, he reached her mound and with his free hand, he took off her panties. Swiftly, he tumbled them both to the cool, white sheets of one of the beds. Lifting her legs, he parted her so she lay bare and vulnerable before him. Lowering his head, he sucked her into his mouth in one mind-bending movement. His tongue immediately followed, teasing and tormenting her clit until desire built with saturating warmth. Just as her orgasm threatened to engulf her, he rose over her and held her head between his hands. “Look at me. I want to see your eyes.” His husky voice demanded her compliance. Cullinan’s eyes looked like burnished copper heated by the fire of his passion. “I want to see your reaction when I slide inside you.” With a ragged breath, he shoved his lower body forward thrusting deep and hard until his swollen tip nudged her womb. He pumped into her several times but didn’t allow her to come. Tess cried out in protest. “Easy ...” He kissed her fast and hard. “I have an even better idea. Roll over and get on your knees for me.” Sweat dampened her skin and the room smelled of heat and loving. She swallowed and tried to muster a smile even as her mind refused to accept the denial of pleasure. “If I don’t

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come soon I’m going to die.” Her voice sounded foreign and lust-filled, like a woman seeking immediate satisfaction. Tess rolled to her stomach then rose to her knees. She grasped the top edge of the mattress. Cullinan clasped her hips in his hands and invaded her gloriously once again. With each thrust, he slammed against her fanny. The room filled with the soft slap of flesh on flesh, their rapid breathing and moans of pleasure. Tess opened her legs wider, allowing him even deeper access to her body. She’d never felt more desired or more like a woman. Tess moved her hips, milking his penis, her body grasping it, loving it thoroughly. When the orgasm hit her, her breath stalled and the world tilted on its axis as a wave of ecstasy pounded through her. She felt Cullinan’s muscles bunch with tension as he came right after her. With his penis still embedded inside her, she lowered her body to the bed. He slumped on top of her. Their bodies were slick with sweat from their heated lovemaking and the breath heaved from their lungs. Tess curled on her side. She rested her head on his shoulder, her legs tangling with his. Like the princess with the pea under her mattress, she felt the pendant nudge her hip as she cuddled next to him. However, the pendant was no harmless pea despite its smooth, white beauty. The stone had led to a violent death for countless people including Quinn. She shuddered and shifted away from it. What would happen next, she wondered. All she wanted to do was help Cullinan return it safely to the church before any more lives were lost. Would they complete their journey or would something unexpected stand in their way? With the sleet tapping softly on the window, Cullinan turned off the light.

***** Scrape. Click. The faint noises permeated a corner of Cullinan’s sleep-fogged brain, but he didn’t move from his warm, cozy position on the bed. Tess snuggled beside him, her breathing slow and even, her arm slung loosely over his waist. The scent of her filled his senses. He dismissed the sounds as probably coming from the adjacent compartment and gently laid his hand over hers. Her warm body suddenly jerked away. Cullinan heard a muffled cry. His eyes flew open. Adrenaline pumped through him, tensing his muscles. He switched on the bedside light then started to leap from the bed. The cold, smooth edge of a gun pressed against the jugular vein in his neck. Cullinan’s eyes shifted and he stared wide eyed at a silencer screwed into the barrel of the gun. What the hell? “Don’t move.” A calm, male voice echoed out of the dark.

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A forbidding figure loomed like a ghostly specter beside the bed. Cullinan’s breath seized in his lungs ... Tess whimpered. Cullinan flicked his gaze toward the sound. The storm had passed and now bright light from a full moon streamed in through their compartment’s window. He stared in horror at a large man partly concealed in shadow near the door, holding Tess roughly against his chest, the silvery beams of moonlight shining on her nude body. A surge of fear twisted around his heart. One meaty hand clamped over her mouth and the other held a knife to her throat. Her wide, terror- filled eyes pierced him across the distance. Panic welled in Cullinan’s throat as a shudder of black dread swept through him. Oh, God, what the hell was he going to do naked and vulnerable with no weapon? Were these men here to rob them or to rape and murder instead? Fear like he’d never known flowed through his veins in a gushing torrent. He would do anything to keep Tess alive. No matter what happened, he would fight to the death before he let them harm the woman he loved ... An eerie resolve settled over him and tempered his trepidation ... He darted his gaze back to the gunman standing beside the bed. “I have cash in my wallet.” Cullinan fought to keep his voice steady and even. “I don’t want your money. I want the pendant ... Where is it?” The man’s voice was deep and even with no discernible accent. The pendant ... Would he let them go if he gave it to him? Doubtful. He would probably kill them both. God, if you have to, Cullinan prayed silently, take me instead of Tess. Tess emitted a strangled sob. Cullinan’s gaze flew to her face. Blood trickled down the white column of her throat. A frisson of terror tore at his insides. “I’ll get you the pendant ... just please don’t hurt her.” He saw his pants lying in a heap on the floor next to the feet of the thug holding Tess. When he knelt for them, he could throw his body against the man and throw him off balance. “I need to get some pants on first.” He started to rise from the bed. The gunman standing beside the bed cuffed him in the jaw with the barrel of the gun. “No, just get the pendant.” Pain spread through Cullinan’s jaw and stars danced in front of his eyes ... He inhaled against the ache and blinked to clear his vision. Tess moaned in a series of incomprehensible words. Cullinan looked in her direction. Worry glazed her eyes as she stared at Cullinan. The thug’s hand still covered her mouth. The assailant beside the bed shifted the gun’s barrel and pointed it at Tess. “Be quiet or I’ll scatter your brains all over this room.” Her moans ceased immediately.

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Cullinan fixed his gaze on Tess. Hear me, sweetheart. I won’t let them hurt you. I promise. “Everything is going to be okay.” He hoped. “How touching.” The gunman swung the gun back toward Cullinan. The gunman lifted his free hand to his temple and rubbed. The moon’s gossamer rays illuminated the gunman’s sweaty, trembling fingers that held the gun. “Now get the pendant. And no sudden moves or she’s dead.” Was the man sick? Is that why he wanted the pendant? Or did he plan to sell it to the highest bidder? Slowly, Cullinan lowered his legs over the side of the bed. He turned and lifted the edge of the mattress. He grasped the pendant firmly in his hand, pulled it from the mattress and looked at the sacred object lying in his palm. The stone glowed softly as if covered by a thin, white mist. His heart thudded hard in his chest as regret swamped him. He was so close to returning the pendant to the church and laying it on Saint Columba’s stone pillow, finally putting an end to the curse. If alone, he would risk his life to complete the mission but no way would he gamble with Tess’s. He turned and held the pendant out toward the gunman. “Take it.” Time seemed to stop as the gunman’s fingers reached for the pendant. The sounds of the train speeding through the night faded to the back of Cullinan’s brain and his breath clogged in his throat as everyone stared in rapt attention. The closer the gunman’s hand moved toward the pendant, the stone’s misty, white glow was gradually consumed with red, the color of blood. This was the same color change Cullinan had seen in the park that day when Patrick held the pendant. Just as the gunman’s fingers began to close around the pendant, Cullinan caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. With the knife still at her throat, Cullinan watched helplessly as Tess bit into the flesh of the thug’s hand. Like a movie projector’s speed turned up to normal, sound and movement came flooding back. “Ugh! You bit me!” In obvious pain, the thug shook his left hand a couple of times, dropped the knife and reached for Tess with his bare hands, his fingers curling like claws. “You’ll pay for that, you lousy bitch.” Tess rammed her fist into the thug’s gut then kneed him in the groin. The thug doubled over in pain, grabbing his crotch with both hands. Simultaneously, Cullinan gripped the pendant in his fingers and with a snap of his wrist, he threw it toward the gunman’s face. The edge of the pendant clipped the gunman beneath the tip of his nose. “Damn it!” The gunman cried out and held his other hand over his nose. With blood dripping down his face, the gunman pointed the barrel at Cullinan. Cullinan hit the gunman’s arm with his hand.

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The gun’s barrel jerked upward and briefly pointed in Tess’s direction. A muffled shot rang out. In horror, Cullinan’s blood ran cold. He snapped his head toward Tess. “No!” His startled cry filled the small compartment and buzzed through his brain. The thug staggered back against the compartment wall with his right hand clutching his left shoulder as blood seeped through his fingers. With a mixture of relief and anger churning through his gut, Cullinan leaped toward the gunman ... They tumbled to the floor with a series of grunts, their breathing labored. Gripping the gunman’s wrist, Cullinan struck the gunman’s hand several times against the floor until the gun sailed from his hand. The gunman punched Cullinan hard in the side of his neck ... Agonizing darts of pain vibrated through the muscles in Cullinan’s neck. He sucked in a much needed breath through his aching throat, drew back his fist and returned the hook with a blow to the gunman’s temple. His attacker grunted in distress and tried to knee Cullinan in the groin. He deflected the attempt, clamped his hand down on the gunman’s crotch and squeezed hard. The gunman screamed in pain and struck Cullinan square in the mouth. The coppery taste of blood coated Cullinan’s tongue. Clashing in a flurry of arms and legs, they rolled into a puddle of moonlight. Cullinan got a closer look at the man’s face. Pain filled his hazel eyes, his thin lips twisted in a grimace of anguish and blood still oozed from his nose ... Cullinan spotted the gun out of the corner of his eye and strained toward it. The tips of his fingers lightly grazed the end of the gun’s handle but he couldn’t close his fingers around it. The man shoved Cullinan away and grabbed the gun. Cullinan leaped on his back and grappled with his assailant, desperately trying to pry the man’s fingers from the gun. Suddenly, Cullinan saw Tess’s bare foot connect with the man’s wrist. His fingers loosened from the blow long enough for Cullinan to grasp the gun. Rolling to his feet, Cullinan pointed the barrel at his attacker. Before he could squeeze off a shot, the compartment door slammed back on its hinges. The thug fled into the hallway clutching his wounded shoulder followed by the gunman ... The door swung shut behind them.

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Chapter Thirteen “You damn well should have reported those goons to the authorities, Benedict!” Hope glanced at Nick sitting beside her in the back seat of the rental car and laid a hand on his thigh to calm him. The muscles in his leg relaxed under her touch and the warmth of his body seared her palm. He glanced at her, his gaze momentarily softening before he stared once again at the back of her brother’s head. Cullinan huffed out a breath but said nothing at first as he guided the car over the fogshrouded road that snaked through the heart of Inverness. Sitting on the passenger side, Tess rested her hand on Cullinan’s shoulder. He reached up and briefly grasped her fingers. The sun peaked over the horizon sending pale streaks of pink and lavender through the distant clouds. Any other time Hope would have enjoyed the early morning display but tension lay like a pall in the car’s atmosphere. “I told you before, Morelli,” Cullinan said in a terse, clipped voice, “I couldn’t notify the train officials about the men breaking into our compartment because I didn’t want to draw any more attention to the pendant ...” He shrugged and followed the curve of the road. “In a few minutes, the pendant will be returned and it won’t matter anymore.” He headed toward the west side of town and the rolling hills that safely nestled the church of Saint Columba. Nick leaned forward slightly in the seat. Hope rolled her eyes toward the roof of the car and shook her head. Here it comes. “It doesn’t matter to you that Tess might have been killed?” Nick’s sharp, accusing tone filled the small space. Tess turned in her seat and looked at Nick with a frown creasing her forehead. “Of course it matters. How could you say such a thing?”

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“And what about your own lousy skin?” Nick asked, ignoring Tess’s question. “Not that I care, but your sister here --” He jerked his head in Hope’s direction. “-- would care, and her feelings matter a whole hell of a lot! What if they’ve followed us? It would pain me greatly to see her unhappy if you ended up dead!” Suddenly, Cullinan jerked the car to the side of the road, stomped on the brake and shifted the gear into park. Tess turned her head toward Cullinan. “Nick obviously won’t listen to reason, so please don’t argue when we’re so close to returning the pendant.” He ignored her gentle reproof, shifted in his seat and glared at Morelli. His expression was hard and resentful, his amber eyes glittering with anger. “Don’t think for a minute that I enjoyed watching the woman I love being manhandled and scared out of her wits because I didn’t.” He spat the words out like little bullets. “As for me, I did what I had to do so get the hell off my back! Are we clear?” Hope watched a muscle work furiously in Nick’s jaw before the corner of his mouth lifted in a sneer. “You think you’re such a cowboy, but one day your luck is going to run out and I hope I’m there to see it.” Irritation burned through Hope. She clenched her hands into fists and exhaled a harsh breath. “Enough! Are you two done flexing your egos?” Cullinan turned toward the front of the car and shifted the gear into drive. “Yeah, we’re done,” he said in a grudging tone. “For now.” Hope supposed that what Nick and her brother really needed was a good, old-fashioned brawl to clear the air but that would have to wait. Fifteen minutes later, Cullinan swung the car onto a long, narrow road that led up into the hills west of Inverness. Hope saw a sign indicating the turn for the Craig Phadrig, a former Pictish stronghold. Anticipation bubbled inside her. They were getting close. Their mission was nearly complete. She watched for the natural markers their father had told them about, the boulder shaped like a dog’s head and the trunk of an old tree sprouting from a seasonal creek bed and pointed them out for Cullinan. Fifteen minutes later, the road became steeper, the tires crunching over the gravelcovered road as the car moved farther up the hill. As they rose in elevation, a heavy blanket of mist settled over the area. Thick forest lined the road, the headlights barely piercing the dense gloom. When the road came to a dead end, Cullinan stopped the car beside a copse of trees and cut the engine. “This is as far as we can go in the car. We’ll have to walk the rest of the way.” Hope glanced around and saw nothing but fog and the shadows of trees. “I don’t see anyone. Hopefully we weren’t followed.” “Maybe, maybe not. Keep your eyes and ears open,” Cullinan said. He brought Tess’s hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “Ready?”

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She nodded and gave him a smile. Slowly they headed north as they picked their way along the forest path, their feet rustling against the undergrowth of grass and small bushes. Cold air swirled around them. Hope’s heart thudded erratically in her chest as her gaze darted back and forth looking for anyone who might be lurking among the trees. Nick held her hand, his fingers laced with hers, the warmth and strength of his hand reassuring. She turned, looked at him and smiled. He returned her smile and winked. Suddenly, she felt as though everything was going to be all right. Silence filled the forest. Not even the call of a bird disturbed the quiet. Mist fell in ethereal sheets, chilling her further. Hope shivered inside her coat and Nick put his arm around her. Briefly, she laid her head on his shoulder and inhaled his fresh, clean scent mixed with the smell of the birch trees. The trees thinned and soon they walked into a small clearing filled with spindly bushes and sparse grass. The mountain dropped away a few feet to their left in a steep cliff. To their right Hope barely saw the church at a distance in the fog. Thud. Hope’s heart slid into her throat. Everyone stopped. Nick dropped his arm from Hope’s shoulder and reached for the gun the assailant had left behind tucked into the waistband of his pants.. He gripped the handle in both hands and held the gun out in front of him as he slowly swept the barrel first one way and then the other. Hope couldn’t see anyone through the swirling fog and misty rain. Cullinan stepped over to them with his arm around Tess’s waist. Nick looked at Cullinan. “You stay here with Tess and Hope. I’m going to take a look.” He turned to Hope, touched the side of her cheek with his fingers and smiled. “I’ll be right back.” With trepidation, Hope watched Nick disappear back into the cover of the trees. Cullinan drew Tess into his arms and she nestled her head against the side of his neck. To give them some privacy, Hope adjusted the collar of her coat to shield her neck from the rain and stepped toward a large rock barely visible only a foot or so away. Hope heard a rustling noise and started to turn when a strong, male arm grabbed her around her throat. Panic zipped through her in a hot flood and fear buzzed in her head. She stumbled and fell against his chest. The man smelled of light sweat mixed with expensive cologne. She gasped as he pressed the cold barrel of a gun to her temple. “Hope!” Tess cried out. Nick rushed out of the woods. Hope’s heart thumped madly in her chest and her pulse thundered in her ears. Her gaze found Nick’s across the few feet that separated them. Would she die before they even had a chance to begin their life together? It had taken Nick over two years to move on after the death of his wife. History was repeating itself. What would her death do to him? Her

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assailant pressed his arm harder against her throat. Her breath wheezed from her lungs. Stars danced in front of her eyes. She blinked, trying to clear her vision. Would this be the last time she saw Nick? “You again,” Cullinan said in a raw voice. “Yeah,” the man sneered. “All I had to do was throw that rock and you people fell for the oldest trick in the book. Now I want you to lay the pendant on the ground halfway between us, then back away slowly. Do it now or your sister gets it.” Cullinan held up his hands palm out. “Okay, it’s in my pocket.” He lowered his hands reached into his pocket. “Who the hell are you anyway?” “Alex Case.” A mask of hatred blanketed Cullinan’s face. Contempt flashed in his eyes, his lips curling in disgust. “You killed my father.” His cold, exact tone seemed to freeze the air around them. Case’s hot, sour breath wafted over Hope’s cheek and into her nose, threatening to gag her. She fought against a wave of nausea. “He deserved it, too.” His impersonal voice made her shudder inside. He said the words as though her father had been nothing more than something stuck to the bottom of his shoe. “Thought he could steal from me and get away with it.” He chuckled next to Hope’s ear. Were they all going to die here on the side of this mountain? From a distance, she saw Cullinan’s body stiffen in anger. Damn it, they were finally at the church, ready to put the pendant back where it belonged so the curse would finally be over, but a cold-blooded killer stood in their way. Cullinan removed his hand from his pocket, lifted his arm and uncurled his fingers. The pendant lay flat in his palm, the stone glowing pure and white. With his gaze shifting between Case and Hope, Cullinan walked to a point halfway between them. “Stop,” Case demanded. “Place it on the ground.” Cullinan hesitated. Case jabbed the barrel of the gun into Hope’s temple. Hope flinched and her heart nearly stopped beating. Her captor laughed. “Your old man flinched too. In fact, toward the end he was screaming his head off begging for mercy. All I had to do was pick up the jumper cables.” Jumper cables? Oh, God, Hope thought. Rage at what Case had done to her father poured through her and yet she was helpless to stop him once again. She knew they would all end up dead if her brother didn’t give up the pendant. He had to. Yet so many lives had been lost because of it. If he gave it to Case, more would die and the curse would continue. Cullinan knelt, placed the pendant on the ground and straightened, then backed away.

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“We’re going to walk very slowly over to the pendant,” Case said. “If you try anything, I’ll kill your sister. If that cop or your lover tries anything I’ll kill her. Understand?” Cullinan nodded. Hope fixed her gaze on the pendant lying in the grass. She and Case, with his arm still around her throat, walked toward the pendant, their feet shuffling through the wet grass. The rain fell harder now. Her hair was wet and water droplets streaked down her face, over her throat and under the collar of her coat. She shivered. She wasn’t sure if she shook out of fear or because of the cold. When they stood next to the pendant, Case stopped her. “All right, kneel ... slowly.” Hope bent her knees and Case echoed her movements. Hope kept her eyes on Nick, who helplessly watched. Hope reached out for the pendant and tried to curl her fingers around it. Then she looked at Cullinan. He couldn’t give up when they were so close. Cullinan knew she was going to try to do something because his eyes widened. Quickly, Hope dug her fingers into the damp soil, filled her palm with dirt then threw it up and back toward Case’s face. Case screamed. His arm loosened from around her throat. She fell forward and grabbed the pendant. Hope heard a gun shot and looked up. Nick staggered to his knees then fell to the ground with his hand gripping the upper part of his arm. Blood flowed from the wound. Fear for Nick’s life rushed through her. Her entire body shook. Cullinan jumped on Case. They fell to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs. The gun flew from Case’s hand and slid over the edge of the cliff. Tess leapt on Case’s back and began pounding him with her fists. Case groaned, bent his right arm and elbowed her in the stomach. Tess fell off him, laying both hands over her stomach. She looked at Hope, her face twisted in pain. “I’m okay. Take care of Nick.” Stricken with panic and dread, Hope crawled on her knees toward Nick. In the background, she heard the sounds of Cullinan and Case fighting. She wanted to help her brother but Nick was bleeding and needed her help more. Blood covered Nick’s fingers where he pressed his hand against the wound. Hope laid the pendant on the ground and jerked off her coat. She wadded up one sleeve and pressed it against the wound in his arm. Cold wind blew around her and rain lashed her body, soaking her through to the skin but she ignored the discomfort. Her only thoughts were for Nick, the man she loved with every ounce of her being. Hope looked in Tess’s direction. “Go up to the church and call for help.” Then her gaze shifted to the pendant. An unearthly glow emanated from the white stone in the pendant’s center. She gasped at the sight. Could the pendant possibly save Nick’s life? She at least had to try.

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Quickly, she removed the sleeve of her coat from Nick’s arm, picked up the pendant and held it on the wound. Nick grimaced and jerked slightly, then relaxed. His eyes blinked open. He turned his head and looked at his arm. Immediately, the flow of blood began to slow and a strange vapor rose from the wound. Hope removed the pendant and watched in awe as the hole in Nick’s arm miraculously healed. Tess screamed. Hope snapped her head around. Cullinan and Case rolled over the edge of the precipice.

***** A rock’s sharp edge jabbed into Cullinan’s shoulder as he slid down the embankment. Wet leaves and dirt sprayed into his eyes and mouth; the rough limbs of a shrub scraped over his cheek. Bits of rock bit viciously into his skin. He closed his eyes against the gritty, stinging sensations and clawed at Case’s hands, trying desperately to loosen them from his arms where he held him in a death grip. After what seemed like an eternity, he and Case slammed into a wide outcropping with a solid thud. Thankfully, the momentum threw Case off Cullinan. For a moment, Cullinan struggled to regain his breath stolen by the impact of his fall. He rolled to his hands and knees, wiped a hand over his eyes and inhaled a wheezing breath of rain-soaked air. Before Cullinan could climb to his feet, Case, with his eyes wide with pain and his lips twisted in a grimace of hatred, rushed him. Case grabbed him by the throat and pushed him down to the lip of the cliff shelf. Cullinan clawed at Case’s hands gripping his throat and fought to breathe. Darkness closed in around him and rain pattered his face as his head dangled over the edge. A gunshot rang out. Case’s hands loosened on Cullinan’s throat. A fleeting expression of surprise filled his eyes before he sank in a heap on top of Cullinan. Cullinan shoved Case’s body off him and sat up. He looked toward the top of the cliff and to his amazement saw Morelli leaning over the edge with both hands gripping Case’s gun.

***** Grabbing onto small bushes, Cullinan climbed slowly back up the cliff side. Halfway up the cliff the rain stopped. A foot from the top, a hand thrust into his range of vision. Cullinan looked up into Nick’s amused gray eyes. Cullinan grasped Nick’s hand and allowed the other man to pull him to safety. Cullinan squeezed Nick’s hand and gave it a shake before letting go. “Thank you. I owe you one.

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Nick smirked. “You sure as hell do.” Cullinan stared at Nick’s arm, now completely healed. “How is that possible?” Hope held out her hand with the pendant resting on her palm. “I used this.” Even covered in blood, the stone glowed like a small moon. Reverence and wonder filled Cullinan. His long journey had been worth it. He took the pendant from Hope’s palm. “The pendant truly is sacred.” Together the four of them walked to the church. Cullinan reached out and grasped the door handle fashioned in the shape of a dove. With a light shove, the door creaked open. The thick smell of incense and candle wax flowed over him. He placed his hand on the small of Tess’s back and stepped inside followed by Nick and Hope. The church’s interior was larger than he’d imagined. Simple columns were scattered throughout the church supporting the vaulted ceiling. A large iron fixture filled with red glass candle holders flickered overhead casting shadows over the ancient stone walls and floor. Slowly they moved toward the altar at the back of the church. Several monks dressed in traditional robes stood in front of the altar and softly sang a canticle. Outside, the wind moaned and sunlight beamed in through a large window near the ceiling and washed over the monks as if God himself blessed them as they chanted. A niche had been carved into the wall behind the altar and in front sat a table covered in a gold and crimson cloth. In the niche lay a large stone and over the stone an icon of a man wearing a bishop’s miter with two gold crosses on either side. Doves graced the center of the crosses. A surge of happiness swept through Cullinan as he drew closer to the altar with Tess by his side. One of the monks turned and looked at them. “Can I help you?” Cullinan reached into the pocket of his dirty trousers and withdrew the pendant ... “I am a guardian of the Order of the Dove.” He held the pendant out in front of him for the monk to see. The monk’s eyes widened and a smile creased his thirty-something face. “The pendant has returned!” The other monks around him turned as well. When they saw the pendant, they placed their palms together in prayerful supplication. “Praise be to God,” they murmured together over and over. Cullinan looked at the monk who had first seen the pendant. “Would you like to place it on the stone?” The monk lowered his blue gaze to the pendant, the stone radiating a pristine glow and shook his head. “You should do it yourself. I think all of the guardians who came before you would want it that way.” The monks stepped aside, making a path for Cullinan to the altar.

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Cullinan leaned over and kissed Tess lightly on the cheek. With his heart pounding and his pulse leaping wildly in his veins, he walked toward the niche. For a moment, he stood and stared at the venerable stone, the center containing a slight indentation where long ago Saint Columba had rested his head. Cullinan heaved a deep breath and laid the pendant on top of the stone. Nick’s blood that had coated the stone disappeared. Finally, the pendant returned home. The curse would rest with it, no longer demanding death as the price of its ownership.

***** Two days later, Nick and Hope and Tess and Cullinan were married in the church of Saint Columba with the pendant resting safely a few feet away. Hope grasped the doveshaped handle on the church’s door and opened it. With Nick’s hand holding hers, they followed Tess and Cullinan outside into the bright sunlight of a beautiful day. Yesterday, Tess had called Abel and told him that she and Cullinan were to be married. To everyone’s surprise, he offered his best wishes and Tess said from the tone of his voice she felt he truly meant it. Nick lifted Hope off her feet and swung her around. She laughed and looked up into the clear blue sky, her heart radiating with happiness. A cooing sound drew their attention. A white dove sat on the ledge of one of the church’s windows. Hope smiled and looked at Nick. “Let’s go home.”

Cher Gorman Okay ... here's the thing. I don't live an adventurous life filled with intrigue and excitement. My days are quiet and normal and I love it that way. I'd much rather experience an adventure filled life through my characters. I've been married to my soul mate for seventeen years and we have one daughter. I write while she is in school each day and my writing day ends when she gets home. I have a B.A in Art and worked a series of clerical jobs for several years mostly in hospitals and doctor's offices. My best subject in school was English composition and of course I always loved to read. However, I didn't actually start writing until 1987 when I pulled up stakes from my home in Augusta, Georgia and headed west to Colorado. You see when I was in high school I saw this John Denver special and fell in love -- not with John Denver -- but with the gorgeous backdrop of snow-covered mountains and spruce trees. I knew in that moment my real home was waiting for me in the Rocky Mountains. Corny, but true. Since I began writing -- nineteen years ago -- my dream has been to craft well-written stories that someone besides my mother or my husband would want to read. Thanks to the wonderful editorial staffs at Loose-Id and Wings ePress, I finally realized my dream. I hope you enjoy reading my stories as much as I enjoyed the journey of creating them for you. Visit Cher on the Web at http://www.chergorman.com.