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She shook her head in confusion. ‘You can’t be. You walked away, remember?’
‘I’ve told myself the same thing a few dozen times,’ he clipped out. ‘My conscience just laughs at me.’
‘Try harder. You have a wife to find and little barons and baronesses to produce.’
His jaw tightened then released. ‘In time, but not just yet.’
Her heart lurched. ‘Nothing can come of it, and I won’t be used to scratch a temporary itch.’
‘Something already has come of it. Perhaps you need a refresher on our kiss last night?’
‘Hell, Damion, this will never work. It … Things aren’t that simple.’
‘Explain.
‘I don’t owe you any explanations.’
‘Pascale Duvall left in a hurry. Did you have something to do with that?’ His mercurial switch of subject threw her for a second.
She tried to keep her face and voice neutral. ‘Maybe.’
He shoved a hand through his hair. ‘We’ll get nowhere if you choose silence over talking. You’re very talented, yet you choose to throw your talent away—’
‘Whoa—that’s your opinion. What I choose to do with my life is my business.’
‘If I picked up the phone to the authorities right now, how interested would they be?’
Her heart hammered as she gauged the threat behind his statement. She licked her lips. ‘On a scale of white to red, I’m a bright orange on their list.’
‘Why?’
She shrugged when he raised his eyebrow, demanding an answer. ‘They seem to think I feature in a few of their unsolved cases because of a trip I took to Mexico three years ago.’
‘Do you?’
‘Not in the way you think, no.’
‘Then why not come clean? Silence can be construed as guilt.’
‘I have nothing to prove to you or anyone. If the police had enough to charge me with, I’d be behind bars.’
‘What if I asked you to come and work for me?’
Surprise shot through her. ‘Why would you do that?’
‘I’m always on the lookout for talent. You have it. You’d be paid handsomely.’
She didn’t even think twice about it. Her life had taken a decidedly different turn after her accident. ‘No, thank you.’
He shoved his hand through his hair again and Reiko fought a smile. The thought that she was riling him sent a sliver of satisfaction through her. It felt good to get under his skin the way he’d been getting under hers, both asleep and awake.
‘What’s so fascinating about the black market? Is it the danger?’ His voice dripped with condemnation.
Reiko toyed with disclosing the true nature of her profession to him. Would he understand? He had everything. Immeasurable wealth, good looks, a title that dated back to medieval times. He only had to snap his fingers to have his every wish fulfilled.
Would he understand the need that drove people to hang onto one seemingly meaningless possession? Or spend their last cent retrieving the piece of history that made them who they were?
Taking a deep breath, she decided to give a little. ‘After the First World War, a group of businessmen travelled through South East Asia, purportedly with the aim of setting up businesses that would employ thousands of people. But really what they wanted was to set up the illegal acquisition of art and artefacts. Twenty well-to-do families were targeted. Within five years the families’ heirlooms had been completely depleted. They were left destitute. The jobs never materialised. Families were ripped apart.’
