Page 218 of To Catch a Sub

“I think you’re wrong. This isn’t going to work,” Sofie whispered with typical Dutch bluntness.

Colette looked over to see a beautiful woman in white studying one of the loaned hidden treasure pieces. Inside the glass case atop the pedestal was a massive pearl, set in filigreed gold.

Colette had already looked at it, and the replica integrated into the brooch on her dress was a good approximation—impressive given they’d only had one poor-quality photo to work off of.

Sofie had helped craft it, but Colette had done a good amount of the gold-work to create the replica herself, silently pretending she was the famous jeweler she’d once dreamed she’d be.

“It will work,” Colette assured her. “Why don’t you get a drink?”

Colette watched as Sofie turned towards the bar, then casually made her way to that alcove. Instead of looking at the gem again, she studied the paintings, wondering, as she always did, what they’d looked like when they were first painted. How vibrant would the greens have been? Time, exposure, and chemical changes in the elements that made up the pigments had robbed them of much of their life and depth.

She took her time, examining the art in an unhurried way, making sure not to show too much interest or enthusiasm. Eventually she turned to the pedestal, casually admiring the necklace, which was displayed on black velvet. Since it was a temporary display, not as much effort had gone into hiding the security features. She could see the magnetic contact plates on the inner corner.

“If you steal that necklace, I will put you over my knee.”

Colette froze. In the faint reflection on the glass, she could see the tall, dark form of a man behind her. The ambient noise from the gala—music and voices—had covered the sound of his approach.

“Landon,” she breathed, relief and alarm and joy all fighting to be the dominant emotion.

“The Interpol agent who took you to live in a sex club and then you fell in love?” Sofie’s voice rose with each word, turning into an alarmed squeak. “The one whose emails you have been ignoring for two weeks, but every time you read them you smile.”

“Be quiet, Sofie.” Colette still hadn’t turned around, still watching Landon’s barely-visible reflection in the glass.

“An accomplice? Interesting. Her name is Sofie. Find her.”

It sounded like she wasn’t the only one who hadn’t come alone.

“Sofie, get out,” she murmured. “Remember the exit plan.” Colette steeled herself, curling her lips into a smile, and turned.

Landon. He was wearing all black—tux, shirt, and bowtie. With his dark hair and eyes, he looked like every wicked, sexy villain that had ever graced the pages of a book or a movie screen.

The urge to throw herself into his arms made her legs shake. Colette popped out a hip, one arm across her waist, the other bent, holding her still-full champagne glass near her mouth.

“Landon.” She cocked her head. “Or is it Agent Malik?”

“Nope. No badge.”

Colette looked at his tux again, realization making her breath catch. Given his size, he hadn’t been able to just pick up a tuxedo in the store. It would have to be tailored to him. Maybe he’d already had a tux, but she didn’t think so.

“You knew I’d be here,” she breathed. “That’s why you stopped emailing.”

For twenty-four hours after she left, they’d exchanged a flurry of taunts over email. When she found herself eagerly holding her phone, waiting for his next message, she’d realized that as long as she was talking to him, even if it was only over email, she hadn’t really walked away.

She’d vowed not to reply to any more of his emails, and had kept that promise.

But she’d read the ones he sent, and continued to send, even though he never got a reply. When he stopped emailing, she assumed he’d finally given up and cried herself to sleep, heart breaking all over again.

“I didn’t know. Not until I saw you.” His gaze raked down her—lingering on her very bare leg—then back up.

She shook her head ruefully. “I mentioned the gala, that morning in your father’s kitchen.”

“Yes.”

“A stupid mistake.”

“Can’t say I’m upset about it.”

“Why do you assume I’m here to steal something? With all these people, and security… It’s impossible.” It would have helped if her lips hadn’t twitched.