The London Deception

Baxter’s laugh did nothing to hide the stiff lines of his face. “Hardly. What would give you that idea?”

“Just some things I’ve heard.”

“That’s hard to imagine. The museum was doing routine restoration in Nefertari’s burial chamber. We’ve always had reason to believe there was something else there and the time was ripe to explore. It’s as simple as that.”

“Fascinating.” Rowan shook her head, her voice still layered in polite platitudes. If Finn didn’t see her vivid blue, predatory gaze with his own eyes, he’d likely not have believed the small, genteel woman was capable of what came next.

“Yes, it is.”

“And here I thought this incredible discovery was all because you got your panties in a twist and tossed a small, pointed archaeology trowel across a priceless burial chamber.”

“Of all...” the man sputtered, the pale skin of his neck growing red.

“You then forced one of your lackeys to go pick it up before anyone could possibly snap a photo of the tossed object. Isn’t that right, Baxter?”

“Gossip and innuendo.”

“Yes, well, in my experience, nearly all gossip and innuendo has a grain or two of truth in it.”

The red flooding Baxter’s face shifted as his rolling gaze locked on to Rowan’s. “If that’s true, then surely you’re well aware of the rumors that follow you, Miss Steele.”

Finn fought the immediate and urgent need to get in between the two of them as Rowan leaned into Baxter’s personal space. “Then you are familiar with my reputation. I’m delighted to hear it. I expect you’ll be on your best behavior when we go to Egypt, then.”

“I’m interested in preserving the site and whatever we recover from the chamber.”

“As am I.”

“Then we’re obviously on the same page.”

“See that we stay there.”

Baxter avoided any pretense of a polite departure as he turned on his heel and crossed the room toward the bar. From the widening eyes of the bartender, Finn could only assume the drink request was given in a harsh bark.

With a sly smile he couldn’t have held back if he tried, Finn turned his gaze toward Rowan. “I can’t say I understand your motives but I do like your style.”

“I told you I didn’t like him.”

“There’s subtle disdain and then there’s barely veiled hatred.”

“I prefer to think of it as a preemptive strike.” Rowan’s smile was broad as she gestured toward the door. “Let’s get out of here.”

Finn was rarely taken off guard, so the obvious invitation in her words caught him up short. “Where do you want go?”

“Have you ever been to the British Museum after hours?”

He had, in fact, been there on more than one occasion, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. “Now, what would a nice girl like you be wanting in a place like that?”

“I can think of a few things.”

He could think of several himself, but again, Finn thought it wise to avoid that topic. “The museum opens tomorrow morning at 10:00 a.m. sharp. I can have a car arranged to pick you up, deliver you and wait for you as long as you’d like.”

“What happened to that adventurous spirit, Finn?” Rowan moved in, the light scent of her wrapping around his senses as the heat of her body assailed him through his suit. “You know, the one that had you making those idiotic jumps off your office building?”

“There were far fewer cameras recording that idiocy.”

“We can get around those.”

“And the guards with guns?”

She waved a hand. “Easy.”

“What are we waiting for, then?” Finn held out a hand, barely suppressing the urge to wrap her in his arms. “Lead the way.”

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