“If you do well tonight, I could be more forthcoming with information.”
He gave her a sardonic smile. “Why not use someone whose loyalty you don’t have to question?”
She brushed at an imaginary spot on her skirt. “We are in a pinch with very little time. There is a narrow window for a cargo exchange later tonight.”
“How do you know these orders aren’t a scheme from your traitor? If they suspect you suspect them, they might be setting you up for a fall.”
The cool stare she gave him in the mirror confirmed she had the same fear. And his heart jumped at the fact that she was afraid enough to show him her confidence wavered.
He wouldn’t discount what it took for her to admit she needed his help.
“Who is the target?” he asked.
“A wine merchant from Porto who recently assumed control of one of the largest smuggling operations on the Continent.”
Ian paused. “Please tell me you’re not planning to strike Enrique da Costa.”
“I have a plan,” she insisted.
“Are you completely mad?” He kept his tone lethal, his jaw clenched in the way she claimed she found frightening, so he could scare some sense into her. “Costa is a member of Il Corno, one of the factions who want the emeralds. Strolling into the same room with that man while wearing the Holt necklace is like waving a red flag before a bull.”
In the mirror, both their gazes dipped to the emeralds.
Ian kept his there fractionally longer to appreciate the swell of her breasts.
“Are you saying you won’t help?” Diana asked.
It was a definite taunt. He glanced away long enough to draw a breath.
When he looked back in the mirror, he noted how closely she was watching him. It was more than an assessment; her eyes lingered, as if she enjoyed the view.
He had an inappropriate urge to press her about their kiss again, but he needed to wait for a better time. He could be patient.
Up to a point.
“Tell me everything you know about this,” he ground out. “I won’t go in there blind.”
“And in exchange you’ll tell me everything you know about Il Corno and the others hunting the emeralds?”
“Only Costa. If we get out of this unscathed, we can negotiate the rest.” He was still operating under the foolish hope that he’d disentangle her from those who were chasing the necklace.
“For the good of the operation, I’ll agree to those terms,” Diana said cautiously. “Costa has been on our list for years. He’s leveraged in opium, and we’ve had accounts of him trafficking women and forcing them to labor in workshops that fabricate cheap cloth and notions.”
She paused before adding, “There are also rumors he takes women as payment for debts and auctions them off at elaborate soirees.”
The laws governing such things had as many holes as a sieve. Ian had made everyone in London believe he was a scoundrel so he could wield his own notoriety to keep that kind of illicit trade from Holt & Company’s docks.
“Your orders are to infiltrate one of these parties?” His voice rose, the only outward sign he hated everything about the idea, and the harm that could befall her if she set foot in the same room as Costa and his jackals.
“Yes,” she confirmed pragmatically. “Now tell me what you know about Costa.”
He took a moment to swallow his fury at her blasé attitude about such a treacherous situation. “No one can stop talking about how quickly Costa moved in on Clementi’s businesses. Which means he either orchestrated his murder or knew someone else was planning it.”
“Why do you believe he’s coming after the emeralds?”
“With his rival dead, he now has rank.”
A furrow appeared on her forehead. “What does that mean?”
