Chapter Two Cole
Denver, Colorado
Exactly one week after cornering Addison Mills and pulling her out of Lincoln Decker’s wedding reception, I’m sitting at the café where she reluctantly agreed to meet me.
Tapping a finger on the table, I look out the large front window, watching people pass by, waiting for a glimpse of long, wavy blonde hair.
She isn’t coming.
I check my watch for the hundredth time knowing sitting here and waiting for her to show is a futile waste of an afternoon. Because why would she?
I barged into her friend’s party uninvited, then confronted and practically threatened her.
Of course, I hadn’t been in the neighborhood like I’d said.
No sunbathing or partying in the south of France for me.
I don’t entertain that kind of luxury lifestyle or run off on spur of the moment vacations. I’m far too busy being a workaholic.
Maybe I could’ve handled things better. Hell, if I had, maybe she’d be here right now. But my cool slipped when she didn’t agree to help me. I’m used to getting my way when it comes to work. Eventually, anyway. Some things take time, of course.
And coercing Addison Mills into doing what I want? Not going to be as easy as I’d hoped. She’s as smart as she is beautiful.
My fingers curl into my palm, and I still remember how silky soft her skin felt when I removed the handcuffs from her slim wrists. Thinking about all the ways we could put those cuffs to good use makes my dick twitch to life.
Nope. No fucking way, Vaughn, I tell myself. That woman is bad news. She’s a professional thief. I’m a police detective. And never the two shall mix.
And I can keep telling myself that until I’m blue in the face. Because the reality of it is, I want to do more than convince her to work with me. I want to strip her bare and fuck the thief right out of her. Turn my bad girl into a good girl. But trouble is a part of Addison’s DNA.
She’s also the only woman who’s managed to catch my attention in years.
Why do we have to be on opposite sides of the law?
Nothing about that is likely to change, so the only thing I can do is squash my attraction.
Ignore the way she makes my pulse pound and my dick hard.
Pretend those intelligent cobalt blue eyes are a drab, lifeless shade that don’t remind me of summer skies.
Or her dark golden hair isn’t the same color as wheat fields. And her enticing orange blossom scent—
My nose detects the intoxicating aroma that is only Addison, and I turn in my seat, realizing she must’ve come in through a back door.
“Hello, Detective,” she purrs, pulling out the chair across from me.
Not many people have the ability to catch me off guard, but she just did. I think she knows it, too, because she tosses me a playful wink. I was just about to give up on her coming, and now here she is in all her glory.
“Addison.” I try to keep my voice measured, professional. My attention moves down to the coffee cup in her hands. When the hell did she order that? How did I not notice her at the counter? God, this woman is good. I want her on my side. And in my bed. “Thank you for coming.”
She shrugs a shoulder. “You said you had something to show me. My curiosity won out over my dislike for you.”
Ouch. But am I surprised? Not even a little bit.
I’ve been hounding her, trying to lock her up and break up that annoying little ring of thieves she runs longer than I care to admit. But it hasn’t been easy. Addison is an extremely intelligent woman. At the top of her game. That makes her a very worthy adversary and difficult to nail down.
There’s nothing run-of-the-mill about Addison, either.
I’ve done my research on her. She has a Bachelor’s Degree in Archeology and a Master’s in Ancient Studies.
Both her parents are deceased. She has a younger brother named Ryland who’s a former Navy SEAL with questionable connections, including a Russian criminal with ties to the FSS and the Bratva.
Although he isn’t part of her merry band of thieves, it seems like the Mills siblings like to walk on the morally gray side of life.
“Good to know,” I finally deadpan.
“I’m a busy woman, Detective. You have thirty seconds to convince me this meeting is worth my time. Go.” Her gaze drops to a delicate gold watch on that silky-soft wrist I remember so well.
“You’re familiar with the Phoenix Kiss?” I ask, getting straight to the point.
“Maybe,” she responds coyly. “Why? Did it go missing and you assume I had something to do with it?”
“It isn’t missing—yet. But I have good intel that someone is out to steal it. Most likely, the attempt will be made when the necklace arrives here to be displayed at the Denver Art Museum.”
“Really? I had no idea.” She innocently bats her lashes, but I can’t miss the mirth in those blue eyes.
She’s fucking with me. Gritting my jaw, I snap, “Don’t lie to me.”
Her eyes narrow, and I know I just fucked up because she’s pushing the chair back and standing.
“Addison, wait!” I pop up and touch her elbow. Ignore the sizzling sensation. Focus on the job. “Please, don’t leave.”
“Give me one good reason to stay.”
“I need your help.” A tiny bit of desperation creeps into my words.
“In your dreams, Detective.” She throws her head back and laughs. “You’re going to have to put that big brain of yours to work without me.”
My eyes search hers pleadingly. I’m not one to beg, but the Feds are breathing down my neck, putting me under a ton of pressure to stop this theft before it happens. “Sometimes, it takes a thief to catch a thief.”
“Then I guess you’re shit out of luck.”
She turns on her heel, on the verge of walking away, when I play my only remaining card. Fortunately, it’s an ace. “I have photo evidence of one of your crew in the act of committing a theft.” She freezes. “If you help me, that picture disappears. If you don’t…”
She pulls in a swift breath, slowly turning around to face me.
“…Your friend gets arrested today.”
Yep, she hates me. I can feel the waves of hostility and loathing pouring off her. After momentarily weighing the truth in my words, she slowly sinks back down into the chair.
“You have my full attention… you sneaky sonofabitch,” she adds.
Fair enough. I deserve every harsh word spilling from her sultry lips.
But cornering her is the only way to get this woman’s attention.
And with the Feds threatening to get involved—inferring Denver PD isn’t getting the job done, and the scale of the crime is beyond local capabilities—my choices are extremely limited at the moment.
If I have to play dirty, tell a few white lies, then so be it.
She might be angry, but I suspect she’ll do anything to protect her crew. And she just proved me right. Addison Mills is loyal to the people she cares about, and I can definitely respect that.
“I’d like to hear what you know about the necklace,” I say, trying not to wither beneath her pissed-off gaze. Well, I wanted her attention, and I got it.
“I know what anyone with Wi-Fi access could find online.” She takes a sip of her coffee, and I get a whiff of the vanilla in it. The background report I ran on her stated she preferred vanilla lattes, so I’m not surprised.
“Humor me.”
“The Phoenix Kiss is a necklace reportedly worn by Marie Antoinette. But who knows?” She gives a delicate shrug. “Mystery surrounds the piece. But the facts state it’s over three hundred carats of diamonds and true pigeon blood rubies, making it exceptionally rare and valuable.”
“I saw that term—pigeon blood. What does that mean exactly?”
“It’s a descriptive term used by gemologists to identify the exceptional color—a vivid, glowing red with subtle blue undertones. Those undertones are what give it a velvety appearance. The term originated in Burma, so they’re also called Burmese rubies. Locals call them ‘ko-twe’ or pigeon’s blood.”
I lean forward, listening to her talk, enjoying the slightly breathy quality of her voice. She’s damn smart. Eloquent. But also cagey, and it’s imperative I don’t underestimate her. Ever.
“The necklace sold at Sotheby’s Hong Kong for over ten million dollars back in 2005,” she continues. “It’s been in private ownership ever since.”
“The current owner, Mr. Hans Seung, is loaning it to the museum for two weeks, and I’ve got good intel that there’s going to be an attempted theft. Most likely at the opening night gala.”
“Don’t look at me.” She sends me an innocent look, but I can see the hint of a smirk on her lips.
“I’m looking at Simon Nyx, Bella Diamond and Billy Warrant. Those are the key players I’ve been focusing on. Possibly Laurent, but that cagey bastard is hard to pin down. If you know anything, have heard absolutely any whispers, I’m asking you to tell me.”
“The Feds are on your ass, aren’t they?” she rightfully surmises.
Damn, she’s too fucking intuitive. “Yeah, and I’d prefer to avoid any entanglements with them. This is my city, and I don’t want outside interference.”
“Territorial much, Detective?”
“I need to figure out how a theft might be possible and prevent it from happening… with your help.”
“Seeing as how you’re threatening one of my crew—my family—I don’t see what choice I have in the matter,” she responds coolly, but I don’t miss the underlying anger. I’m holding all the cards, and she doesn’t like that. I may be territorial, but she likes to be in control.
“Let’s make a deal. You help me prevent the Phoenix Kiss from being stolen, bring down a rival or two in the process, and that evidence I have—”
“Goes straight to me,” she finishes. “Because you are not allowed to pull this crap on me ever again.”
I consider her words, then figure what the hell. “Sure.”
“That doesn’t sound very convincing, Detective. I’m going to need a blood oath, a kidney or a sizable amount of cash up front,” she says, but I can see her lips twitching. “You know, to make sure you don’t renege.”
“Are you blackmailing me?”
“Who? Me?” She bats those long lashes at me and there’s more than a twitch in my pants.
Shifting in my seat, ignoring my hard-on, I realize what a dangerous situation I’m in now. Because I’m far too attracted to this woman. A woman I’d be a fool to trust.
I scoff. “You’re really something, you know that?” But I’m grinning, and she smirks.
“So, what’s in this little partnership for me? Other than protecting my friend, of course.”
“Knowing you did a good deed? Getting into Denver PD’s good graces? And mine?” I suggest.
She laughs. “Aww, Detective, I think there might be a sense of humor under that rumpled suit and grumpy exterior.”
I automatically smooth my hands down the front of my jacket. Sometimes, I work all night and don’t remember to change clothes. Is it that obvious? Shit, she’s insinuating I look like a slob and, for whatever reason, that bothers me.
Putting an end to the playfulness, I return to being all business.
“Here’s the deal, I need to keep that necklace safe, and I have a list of the usual suspects who would want it.
I want you to take a look and tell me who we need to watch out for—who’s the most likely to be planning the heist. Anything you’ve heard through the grapevine. ”
I need to get inside her head and figure out how she thinks. How a thief thinks, I correct myself. She’s managed to outsmart me in the past, but now I’m ready to turn the tables on her.
“Send me that list,” she says, sliding a business card across the table. Then she stands, placing her oversized handbag in the crook of her arm. “As lovely as this meeting has been, I have to go. Ciao, Detective.”
I blink, watching her saunter away and out the front door. When had she taken the card out? Where did it come from? Picking it up, I see her name, and beneath it is her company, A-Squared Enterprises. And I use the term “company” loosely. I know it’s a front.
With a shake of my head, I tuck the card in my front jacket pocket and remind myself I can’t trust her.
Because would it surprise me if she decided to swoop in and steal the Phoenix Kiss herself? No, it would not. Not one little bit.