Jeanie London - Into Temptation

“Actually, I’m here on business.” She patted her carryall. “I’m with Hampstead, Heath and Associates. We’re based out of London with offices all over Europe and Asia. We’re scouting a North American site. Of course, the CEO will need housing if we open a location here. That’s where I come in—I’m checking out the neighborhood.” She tossed a glance back at the building, and the guard followed her gaze, clearly wavering.

“Do you have identification?”

“Of course. If you’ll let me go into my bag, Constable, I’ll give you my card. And my passport if you need it.”

The man inclined his head then stepped back to give her space. She produced a passport and business card that supported her claim and stood quietly while he inspected her credentials.

Americans were hyper-security conscious nowadays and rightly so, but that this guard would catch her with her binoculars snagged on a pretty sight and her usually sharp senses blinded to her surroundings was just plain unlucky.

Lindy was a stellar field agent, which was precisely why she’d been assigned this case. But she hadn’t done much more than surveillance yet, and for things to go pear- shaped so early on…she hoped this didn’t foreshadow what lay ahead.

“All right.” The guard gave a curt nod. “What else do you need before you can move on?”

“Nothing really. I’ve already researched the demographics on this and the other buildings we’re considering. The big boys will let me know which leasing agencies to make contact with, but I’ll be sure to tell them this co-op has the best security of the bunch.”

That earned a smile. “Well then, good day, miss.”

It was an obvious effort to move her along, so Lindy returned his smile, hiked her carryall higher on her shoulder and shoved off with a bright, “You have a good one, too.”

She could feel the guard’s gaze follow her down the street, where she rounded the first corner and ducked inside a conveniently located subway station to regroup.

Lindy had to act fast because she had no intention of losing sight of her target now. She had to return to that co-op without drawing the security guard’s attention again. No problem. Lindy liked challenges.

She hoped Joshua Benedict proved to be one.

JOSHUA NOTICED the woman as soon as she entered the gallery. Amid the attendees of the Classical Greek Antiquities exhibit opening, she somehow managed to look… fresh —no easy job in this human sea of designer labels, artful grooming and cosmetically-enhanced perfection.

Curious, he studied her from his position near a marble diorama of the Graces, where he sipped Moët and chatted with the exhibit’s benefactress, Lily Covington.

Perhaps Lily chatting with him better described what took place, as the society matron hadn’t stopped to draw air in a while. But Joshua didn’t mind participating in any conversation that left him free to observe this beauty who paused to admire an oil painting of Artemus with a quiver of arrows.

Maybe it was her flawless skin, touched with only the barest color to enhance a mouth designed to kiss. She wore a chiffon gown to distinguish her from the crowd of the flashy sequins and beads that defined American haute couture, the filmy off-white gown clinging to her body with classic lines hinting at all the long curves below.

She was subtle seduction as opposed to bold temptation, a woman who made him imagine two bodies close in the darkness and the sound of breathless sighs. Soft brown hair fringed around her face and neck, sexy for the way it framed her features. His gaze followed the graceful lines of her throat, and the pulse beating there, another place ripe for kissing.

He would have noticed this woman even if the gala kicking off this new exhibit hadn’t been a bore. But he couldn’t fault his hostess. As a member of the Covington family—one of the mainstays on the NewYork society scene since somewhere around the mid-nineteenth century—Lily had perfected hosting philanthropic events into an art form.

Select members of the Westbrook Philharmonic filled the gallery with music. Le Kevin, hailed as Manhattan’s latest culinary genius, catered the event with a menu of shellfish flown in from Maine and delicate hand-pressed pasta that melted on the tongue. Champagne flowed.

But not even Moët could wash away the taste of the business that had brought him to New York.

No, he assumed all responsibility for his current mood.

Forcing a smile, Joshua mouthed all the polite responses to Lily’s comments about the Graces under discussion while covertly checking out the lady in white, as he christened her.

The sight of her, at least, improved his mood.

He watched her accept a champagne flute from a passing waiter, the gesture graceful, her smile fast and real. There it was again…that impression .

This woman struck him as having much beneath her surface that she didn’t bother to hide. It was only a sense he got from watching her, but he didn’t question his perception. He was an exceptional judge of character.

A skill that always served him well.

Putting that skill to work now, he sliced his gaze across the crowd, passing over several potential prospects to mark the wife of a state senator who’d captured his party’s interest.

“I see Carolyn Vandeveer came in from Washington to attend tonight,” he said.

“She and the senator are wooing support for their upcoming presidential bid.” Lily’s tone remained unimpressed.

But Joshua knew his hostess would credit the senator’s wife with the appropriate attention. Lily respected the status of her social standing, and presidential hopefuls were only a small percentage among those who sought favor from the Covington family.

So Joshua maneuvered Lily away from the Graces with questions about another artifact and steered her in Mrs. Vandeveer’s direction. He needed to get about the business that had brought him to this museum. Only then would he be free to enjoy the night ahead.

To make the lady in white’s acquaintance.

Hooking up Lily and the senator’s wife over an urn, he participated in their conversation for a respectable few beats then begged his excuses and headed across the gallery.

Resisting the urge to glance at the lady in white, who’d been drawn into conversation with Jeffrey Baldwin of the Boston metals conglomerate—a slick bastard who never missed a trick—Joshua nodded to an usher and stepped into the hall.

While turning, he pitched a nickel behind him with a surreptitious motion, and the tinkle of the coin hitting the floor resounded exactly where he’d meant it to—inside the gallery. When the usher turned around, Joshua vanished down the hall that led to the restrooms.

Chattering voices over the smooth strains of classical music soon faded, yielding to the muted silence of an after-hours museum. Glancing at his watch, he pushed open the restroom door and entered a foyer decorated in the fashion of a gentleman’s drawing room. Joshua peered around the corner to confirm he was alone then retrieved his cell phone from a jacket pocket. He depressed a series of numbers.

The ring tone sounded only once before a gravel-voiced man picked up and asked, “You’re on schedule?”

“Yes. What about you?”

“No problems.”

“Good. Three minutes.”

Joshua severed the connection, depressed another button to activate the vibrating ringer and swapped the phone for a pair of black gloves. After donning them, he withdrew a small electronic device from his pocket and cracked the restroom door again. He glanced into the hallway to find it empty, although voices carried from the nearby ladies’ room.

Moving quickly past, Joshua raised the digital imaging device above his head and paused long enough to capture a shot of the dim hall leading to a stairwell exit.