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It took all of Raven’s years of conditioning and training not to launch a stream of expletives.
“He’s not my friend,” Raven said in outrage. “Le Triton is evil and he’s extremely dangerous. He runs a criminal organization from his impenetrable stronghold in Paris and he doesn’t only deal in stolen antiquities but every nefarious enterprise you could imagine.”
“Well I’m not scared of him. And besides, I think it far more likely that the Russians are behind the theft.”
That was giving the Russians entirely too much credit, to his way of thinking.
“And another thing,” Indy continued, her eyes flashing. “I don’t need you, or any other man, telling me to stay home, to be quiet, to do my embroidery and let the menfolk risk their lives. You’re talking to a woman who has fought off knife attacks and survived venomous snakebites.”
“Indy, I know we haven’t exactly been allies in the past few years, but I’m here to ask for a temporary truce.”
“Don’t call me Indy. I’m not your Indy anymore, and there’ll be no truce.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. “There’s nothing I can say that will dissuade you from going to Paris, is there?”
“Absolutely nothing.”
“What happens if we meet in Paris?”
“I’ll cross the street.”
“I mean at an event. The British society in Paris is quite insular. How are you going to make inquiries without arousing suspicions about what you’re searching for?”
“A ha.” She jabbed his chest with her finger. When had they drifted so close to each other? “Now I understand what you’re truly worried about. You think I’ll bungle the mission. Let the cat out of the bag.”
“You’re not exactly known for your tact and discretion.”
She sniffed. “And you’re not exactly known for your sobriety.”
It was difficult to fight with her when she made him want to laugh. “There are things you don’t know,can’tknow, about the circumstances of the theft.”
“Things which Sir Malcolm shared with you simply because you’re a man and you happened to be in the room whenIdiscovered the stone was missing.”
“Well... yes.” And because he was a secret agent in Sir Malcolm’s employ, a fact that Indy could never, ever know.
“You... you...” she sputtered, her eyes sharp as the facets on a diamond. She was rarely at a loss for words.
He decided to press forward. “Why don’t you just go on your next archaeological expedition as planned? I’ll send you a very clear ink lithograph of the entire script when I recover the relic. I’ll personally supervise the printing.”
“Men!” She shook her head vehemently and dark tendrils of hair fell across her cheek. “You’re always underestimating me. You and every other man I meet. You may think me indiscreet but I would never jeopardize this mission.”
“All well and good, but I know you too well. If there’s trouble, you’ll be in the thick of it.”
She had a contentious nature and a flair for the dramatic, which would make his mission all the more complicated. He’d have to find the stone and protect Indy in the extremely likely event that she stuck her nose where it wasn’t wanted.
She turned her head away, obviously fighting for control over her emotions. She had the noble profile of a Roman goddess. Minerva hoisting her shield and spear and heading into battle.
She took several deep breaths, exhaling audibly.
The scent of her perfume teased his senses. She couldn’t wear something easily identifiable like other ladies. No roses or orange blossoms for her. She’d chosen something complicated that smelled like it must be extracted from strange flowers that only bloomed at night.
It was so much easier to combat this elemental attraction when there were literal oceans between them.
So much simpler to fight the power she held over him when her lips weren’t so very close to his.
“We’ve reached an impasse.” She brushed strands of dark hair away from her cheek with an impatient gesture. “As I predicted.”
“We’re like oil and water, you and I.” He drew a shaky breath. “Never the twain shall mingle.”
