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He balled the gloves inside his fist. “I swear I want to...”
Chapter 5
I want to kiss you, you maddening, mule-headed woman.
Maybe Raven could kiss her into agreeing to stay in London.
He rejected the idea. That’s not why he wanted to kiss her.
He wanted to kiss her because that’s what he always wanted.
He’d been denying his obsession for so long that when he finally allowed himself to think the thought, it refused to leave, sinking its teeth into his mind like a mastiff snaring a hare.
Gods, he wanted to kiss her so badly. He wanted to press his lips to hers when he glimpsed her statuesque curves across a crowded avenue. He’d wanted to kiss her last night when she’d cleverly detected that the stone was a forgery.
Most of all, he wanted to claim her lips right now, as she provoked him with her stubbornness; as she lashed out and accused him of being the worst kind of scoundrel.
He was the worst kind of scoundrel.
And that’s why he could almost taste the heaven that would be her tart tongue. The bliss that would be the softness of her lips.
That’s why his thoughts spiraled far beyond a kiss to Indy laid across that convenient mahogany desk with her drab cotton skirts hiked to her waist, panting as he pleasured her.
These were the times when it was the most difficult to remember why they couldn’t be lovers instead of enemies. When she was out of his dreams and standing in front of him, warm and real, her chest rising and falling with emotion, the skin of her throat flushed, her eyes sparkling like the rare purple Wish Diamond, the centerpiece of the priceless necklace he’d discovered.
She’d accused him of keeping the necklace for his mistresses to model.
He’d kept the Wish Diamond because it was the exact same shade as Indy’s eyes. It flashed with the same pale fire.
And he’d always pictured her wearing it.
No one else would do.
He slapped his gloves against his thigh. “Damn it all, Indy. Stolen antiquities aremyspecialty.”
“Here we go, having the very conversation I predicted,” said Indy with a mocking smile that reminded him of the one he always tried to maintain when he talked to her. “I explained to you last night that hieroglyphics aremyspecialty. You only want the glory and the fame of being a hero for England. I actually require the stone for my research.”
“I understand that you require the...” he lowered his voice and whispered the next word, “stone.” He transferred his gloves to his coat pocket and placed his hand over his heart. “I swear to you, Indy, that I will bring it back to you and you may research it to your heart’s content.”
Instead of mollifying her, his gallant proclamation only made her eyes narrow. “You’ll bring me the stolen antiquity and lay it at my feet like some knight slaying a dragon for a princess, is that it?”
“If you want to view it like that.” What was wrong with noble impulses? He’d fight the entire Paris underworld single-handedly if it meant keeping her safe.
“I’ll slay my own dragons, thank you very much.” She was standing so near he could see the gray and blue flecks in her irises that blended to produce that startling shade of purple.
There were faint lines at the corners of her generous lips. They were both growing older.
The lines only made her more beautiful.
He couldn’t let Indy know that he already had a strong suspicion about who had stolen the stone. If he told her, she’d probably rush right to Le Triton’s door.
He had to outsmart her, outmaneuver her, use every means at his disposal to frighten her away from going to Paris.
Good luck with trying to outsmart her, you fool.
Careful now. She’s already jittery and on edge.“I know you’re fearless and capable,” he said, “But some of the French antiquities thieves who could be behind this theft are ruthless and cruel.”
“Are you talking about Le Triton? I thought he was your friend. Aren’t you cut from the same cloth?”
