Addison Fox - The London Deception

“The danger should be minimal, especially for someone of your sister’s expertise.”

For the first time since the discussion began, Finn’s gaze settled fully on her. Rowan felt the shift in attention immediately, a heavy rush of heat filling her center at his scrutiny.

“You seem awfully sure about that, Mr. Gallagher.”

“Finn.” He corrected her with a smile. “Please.”

“Whatever I call you, it doesn’t change the fact you want me to accompany you into a highly charged political situation. Those assigned to excavate the site have a variety of interests. What makes you so sure they’re all willing to play well with others?”

“I make it my business to know the odds. To understand where there’s real danger and where there’s simply a lot of smoke.”

“And I make it my business to pick the proper partner when politics are involved,” Rowan parried.

“I am the right partner.”

“I’ve already been approached on this project by the British Museum. I’m scheduled to spend time on the excavation site in the spring.”

“Partner with me and you can get there next week. All your clearances will be taken care of. Immediate access, Ms. Steele.”

Rowan smiled, the formality an interesting touch, especially since they’d already dispensed with surnames at his directive. “I’ve spent my career building my reputation with the Egyptian authorities, the world’s major auction houses and the academicians who want to ensure history is preserved.”

“As have I.”

“Yet you want me to pose as your business partner, aid you in authenticating the cache and potentially aid in the removal of said cache if the situation becomes untenable.”

“Yes.”

She shook her head, the movement enough to flutter the light material of her blouse where it gaped at her throat. “You don’t need me for that. Your reputation is sound and you’ve already got the job. Why bring in an outsider?”

Finn knew she had a point, but damn it, he needed her on this. “I want an expert. An outside expert who can see things that I can’t.”

“The intel that’s come back already suggests it’s a straight excavation job on a site that’s already been studied for a century. It’s about to play host to several teams of experts. Why bring in one more?”

While he’d expected her skepticism, he didn’t expect the overt push back. He’d been involved in the project for the past two months, and no matter how he looked at it, he couldn’t hold back the sense that he needed another resource with him. The parties in play—the British Museum, the British and Egyptian governments, and several interested auction houses—all had ulterior motives in mind.

But were any of them truly worried about the preservation of the priceless artifacts the experts were pulling from the tomb?

“The site’s always been considered the most dynamic of all the tombs in the Valley. A discovery anywhere is big news, but a discovery like this has drawn the interest of any number of unsavory interests.”

“The British Museum is hardly going to let an unsavory character—” the slightest edge of humor tinged her words “—walk out of there.”

“They will if they don’t know who to keep an eye on.”

Her eyes widened and any hint of teasing had vanished. “You think an insider is going to try to take the pieces?”

“I need to be prepared for that eventuality. I can’t authenticate anything if it’s removed before I take possession of it. And I won’t take a risk that someone switches in a fake.”

“So why do you need me?”

“You know the items. You know Egyptian artifacts. You know the players. I need a right hand to help me remove anything that might be at risk.”

“Then perhaps you’re unfamiliar with my work and my reputation. I’m no thief, Finn.”

Chapter 3

On the contrary.

The words popped to mind immediately—along with the memory of Rowan Steele clad head to toe in black—but Finn kept them to himself as he took in the twin looks of concern staring at him across the old cherrywood conference table.

Perhaps he’d miscalculated.

He’d originally thought his summons to the Upper East Side brownstone that acted as headquarters for the House of Steele was about sizing him up for the job and deciding if they wanted in.

What he saw brewing was something else entirely.

The question wasn’t if they wanted in on the job. They were simply calculating the odds of whether or not they wanted to hitch their wagon to his.

“I wasn’t implying anything of the sort, Rowan.”

“Yet that’s exactly what you’ve asked of me and are willing to pay our already significant fees several times over should I agree to accompany you.”

“If I determine the cache that’s been discovered is at risk, I’ll do what I need to do to protect it.”

“Even if taking it means you’ll be in violation of the UNESCO Convention?

“Yes.” The vivid blue of her gaze never wavered from his, and he had to admire her gumption. “I have no intention of keeping any of the contents should it come to removal. But I will not see them looted by thieves in the middle of the desert.”

“What makes you qualified to make that decision?”

“I’ll know it should the situation arise.”

Rowan shook her head, but he didn’t miss the faint smile that ghosted her lips. Heat arced between them as he smiled back and enjoyed the slight widening of her lips before she morphed back into skeptical adversary on the other side of the conference room table.

She was even more beautiful than he’d remembered. Although he’d kept tabs on her since that night in London, he had forcefully tamped down on allowing that interest to be anything more than that of a smart businessman who possessed full knowledge of his competition.

Whenever he’d thought of that night—those youthful moments that defined his path for adulthood—he thought of Rowan Steele.

Her presence at the town house had been as shocking as it was unexpected. But it was the young woman who had revealed herself to him that night who had intrigued him, while also ensuring he’d never forgotten her.

He’d sensed pain. A deep-rooted recklessness that drove her actions and which she wasn’t quite able to control.

It was that recklessness—and the corresponding sensation of looking into a mirror where his own actions and choices reflected back at him—that had dogged him throughout his recovery from the gunshot wound he’d sustained that night. Rowan had forced him to acknowledge he was on a path that wasn’t going to ensure a very long life span.

She’d also ensured he had quite a mystery to solve once he’d healed from his injuries. Although he’d begun focusing on his future, he’d made it his business to figure out how a highly skilled young girl had come to be on the Warringtons’ roof.

“Tell me more about the excavation. In your own words.”

Rowan’s question pulled him from his thoughts and he focused on the reason he’d sought her out. “A small tomb was discovered next to Nefertari’s burial site. The cache of objects is believed to depict the great love between Ramesses II and his wife, Nefertari. Several of the jewels already discovered are believed to be her wedding set.”

“Why do you believe it’s been overlooked? Nefertari’s tomb is the best known in the Valley of the Queens. Scholars have been over and around every inch of it.”

He’d turned the problem over and over in his mind and hadn’t yet come to any firm conclusions, but was anxious to discuss them with her. “At the risk of seeming uneducated, I’d consider it a sign of technological advancement combined with a stroke of pure dumb luck.”