Addison Fox - The London Deception

Although he’d kept tabs on the two kids who’d taken the Queen Victoria bracelet years ago, he’d never done more than keep watch. The boy hadn’t been worth his time and when he’d discovered a few weeks after the heist the kid had had the fortitude to live, he’d given him the benefit of the doubt. They’d never found the bracelet when they searched him and he was too small-time to ultimately be worth his time.

The girl, on the other hand...

It had taken some doing to track her down, but when he finally figured out who she was, he backed off all the way. He was building an empire and it would have done him no good to go up against the Steele family. Especially if he’d garnered the scrutiny and attention of the British government should the girl have gone missing. No, Jared had washed his hands of the entire mess.

Oddly enough, the bracelet had never hit the market and he also suspected that night had been the last heist Rowan Steele had ever tried. None of his surveillance had turned up her involvement in anything further, and when she finally went off to college and then spent several years on archaeology sites, he stopped focusing on her.

His network kept tabs and that was all that was needed.

The fact she was working on the Valley of the Queens project wasn’t all that surprising. The archaeology community was strong, and Rowan was well respected.

But what was she doing reteaming with Gallagher?

Jared turned the puzzle over in his mind as he tapped out a response.

FOLLOW THEM.

He already had a buyer lined up for the results of the tomb; chief among the coveted items was a set of bracelets and a necklace made entirely of lapis lazuli, purported to be Nefertari’s wedding set.

And what a strange coincidence it all was.

Jared shook his head, setting the phone back on the desk as he stood to pace. He’d learned long ago there weren’t any coincidences.

So the real question was, who was playing who?

* * *

Rowan stared out the window of the external elevator as she was whisked the twenty stories up for Gallagher International’s main offices. The London skyline spread out before her and she saw the Gherkin in the distance, the large, egg-shaped building that had become a fixture in the city’s skyline a decade before.

The elevator came to a smooth stop and she stepped out onto plush carpeting. She had to give Finn credit, the selection of office space in London’s most recent architectural accomplishment, the Shard, gave a sense of quiet flash and competent business acumen. And she was thrilled to make her first visit to the impressive building.

Her brother Liam had BASE jumped it while it was under construction and she’d been jealous at the time. Now after actually visiting—and considering the size and shape of the building—she decided she’d leave the truly idiotic yearnings for adventure fully to her oldest sibling.

Finn waved at her from a glass-enclosed office. She watched him work his way from the office, down a short hallway before moving into the reception area to greet her. The wide-open space—the windows on the far side of the building were visible through the glass of Finn’s office—was impressive.

And lent a curious air of trust at the truly open design.

She watched him move, the vague sense she’d felt in the conference room a few days before taking better shape in her mind.

He was an attractive man—powerfully so—and an impressive one, too. His shoulders filled out the Savile Row suit to perfection and she could see the slim taper of his waist where the jacket hung open before he closed it with a dapper twist of a button.

His chiseled jaw, thick sandy brown hair and ready smile gave the vague sense of an impish child even as the fine lines of the suit suggested he wasn’t someone to be toyed with. When she also considered the clear signs of intelligence that sparked in his voice with every comment, Rowan could only admit Finn Gallagher was one impressive package.

She’d have to be stupid not to feel some sense of attraction to the man.

And she was very rarely stupid.

That long-ago night on Bethany Warrington’s roof flew through her mind but she ignored it in favor of focusing on the warm hazel eyes that drew her attention first.

“Rowan. Thank you for coming.”

His large hands enveloped hers before he leaned forward into the customary European kiss on both cheeks. The lightest slide of his beard—the day’s growth just beginning to show—met her lips and she couldn’t deny the rush of attraction that slid down her spine at the masculine scent that surrounded her. A touch of cedar over the fresh scent of the outdoors.

Delicious.

Just like the man himself.

She allowed herself the briefest moment to enjoy the contact by making a full turn around the lobby. “Impressive office space. I wasn’t even aware the building was fully occupied yet.”

“We got in early. I knew what I wanted in terms of space and it’s been everything I’ve hoped it would be.”

She didn’t miss the flash of pride that lit his eyes and couldn’t argue with the sentiment. There was something thrilling about seeing the results of your efforts and hard work.

That thrill had been the most unexpected joy after she’d come back to the land of the living. The transformation had taken time—and a lot of work with a therapist to understand her inner urges to steal—but she’d made a commitment to her grandfather and she wasn’t going to change it.

And she was proud to know she’d come out the other side.

“What’s that smile for?”

She glanced around the office once more before smoothly sharing her more casual thoughts from the elevator ride. “I was just thinking of my brother. I’m pretty sure he BASE jumped here.”

“We both did.”

“You jumped off the building?”

“Yep.”

“Together?”

“No. Despite knowing his reputation, I’ve never met your brother.”

“Why would you do something like that?”

He shrugged but she saw that spark of pride flare up once more. “Because it was here.”

“I suppose that’s as good an answer as any.”

They both lingered for a moment, awareness filling the small space between them. Rowan had changed for the visit, her peasant blouse and jeans traded for a plum-colored power suit that would rival anything in Kensington’s closet, and she was suddenly aware of the tight stricture of her skirt as she fought to keep her breath even.

The moment lingered a few seconds longer before the rich tones of his voice broke the silence. “I’m happy to take you on a tour or we can head on down to the labs.”

The focus on business helped and Rowan clung to that like a lifeline. Her anticipation for the office visit had grown over the past few days as she’d read several reports he’d sent in advance. His facilities were state-of-the-art, some of the equipment so new she’d only read about it. “I’m sure the labs will frame up the majority of my questions. Why don’t we start there?”

He extended a hand toward the hallway he’d come through. “Let’s take the stairs. They’re next to the windows, so you can at least get a view of Tower Bridge and the Tower of London before we go down to the lab.”

“Nothing like a midday view of one of the city’s most notorious spots for executions.” She’d meant it as a joke more than anything else—a moment to break the tension that gripped both of them—but his reaction caught her up short.

Those compelling hazel eyes widened momentarily in surprise before narrowing in thought as they strolled toward the bank of windows. “That’s funny. I usually have a completely different reaction when I look at it.”

“You don’t think of beheaded queens and kidnapped princes?”