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His smile sharpened, and I saw the wicked glint of intelligence in his dark eyes. “I’m happy to help, Agent Coleman, but I’m not going to encourage a witch hunt. You can’t just come and rummage around in my businesses for no reason.” He paused. “Can I get you something to drink? Coffee?”
“No.” I took a step closer, my leg brushing his. “Not cooperating makes you look guilty.”
“I’m not guilty, and you have no proof that I’ve done anything wrong.”
I leaned in closer. “I will find it.”
“There’s nothing to find, Agent Coleman. You’ll see that in time.”
My gaze shifted to the painting. “Do you like art, Fury?”
His gaze narrowed at the change of subject. “I do. I have an extensive private collection. That painting there is by a local artist, Regina Scully.” He cocked his head. “Why?”
I had a strong suspicion that the money laundering was being done using art. Art was a long-established and ideal way to launder dirty cash. The art industry wasn’t well-regulated and often sales were made anonymously. Art or antiquities could be purchased at over-inflated prices with illegally sourced cash, then re-sold, leaving the money clean.
But I wasn’t ready to share that yet. I was still cultivating sources and uncovering information.
“Excuse me,” Amy said, looking awkward. “May I use your restroom?”
“Of course.” Kavner waved a hand. “It’s back down the hall.”
Amy disappeared with enough speed to get her a gold medal. I turned back to Fury. It was just the two of us now.
“I’ve learned to trust my gut, Mr. Fury. I will take you down.”
“I like your tenacity. Actually, there’s quite a lot I like about you.”
I stifled a growl. “We are on opposite sides.”
He cocked a brow. “So, we’re enemies?”
“Yes.”
He shot me a panty-melting smile. “We’ll see.”
God, the man was infuriating. “You’ll say differently when I slap you in cuffs.”
That smile just widened. “Kinky.” He cocked his head. “Who hurt you, London?”
I stiffened.
“I understand being driven by personal motivations, believe me. But I’m not the one who did you wrong. Who made you so determined to take down the bad guys?”
I suddenly felt unsettled, and stepped back. He was looking at me like he could see right inside my head.
“Mr. Fury?” An assistant in a sleek, gray skirt suit and blonde hair up in a twist appeared in the doorway. “You have the Crown meeting in five minutes.”
“Thank you, Alana.”
A moment later Amy returned, hovering in the doorway.
“This isn’t over,” I murmured.
“I hope not.” His gaze held mine.
And dammit, my heart gave a huge thud in my chest. I swiveled and strode out. As we headed for the elevator, I could sense Amy looking at me.
“Not a word,” I bit out.
