CHAPTER 4 #2
There’s no denying that my first reaction is an undeniable flash of pleasure that she sought me out, which pretty much ensures that I’m going to pursue something with her. I push away the small measure of restraint, knowing that this woman could mean trouble for me.
“Who is it?” Connie asks.
I rise from my chair. “Stay here.”
I cross the patio, through the sliding glass door into the great room, through the entry hall, toward the front double doors, which are wooden with large panes of clear glass so I can see Josie clearly.
She’s half turned, surveying the neighborhood. The other multimillion-dollar homes. I can see her face in profile, and this is my first clear image of what she looks like without wet hair plastered to her pale face.
And frankly… she’s gorgeous. Sun-kissed skin, high cheekbones, light, arched eyebrows. She’s tall with just a hint of buxom curves. I know she’s strong because she took down Mikhail and managed not to drown in dark waters, but standing on my doorstep, she looks delicate.
It’s not lost on me that Marcus and Connie are forty feet away on the patio, and Connie has just said we should have left her to die, and oh, let’s not forget I have a smuggled Pieter de Hooch in my study.
I open the door and she spins to face me.
And she checks me out.
Straight up runs her eyes down the length of me and back up again. It’s fast but obvious.
“Like what you see?” I ask, and fuck… the way she blushes makes her a million times prettier.
But she’s not discombobulated at all. She lifts her chin. “Can we talk?”
“Yeah,” I say and step back, motioning her in. “Sure.”
Josie enters and I turn to close the door. By the time I turn back around, Josie is standing almost face-to-face with Connie who came in the house. Marcus is right behind her.
Josie turns back to me. “I’m sorry. You have company. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She takes a step toward the door, but I move into her path, cutting her off.
A hand to her shoulder, I turn her back around to face my other guests. “You’re not interrupting and they were just leaving.”
I stare pointedly at Marcus who gets the hint and takes Connie by the hand. “Right. We are indeed leaving.”
“But we didn’t—” Connie starts to say.
“Yes, we did,” Marcus cuts in over her.
Marcus nods at Josie on the way out. She saw him on the boat, but they never said anything to each other.
Before they step through the door, Connie levels a look back at me that’s both angry and hurt at the same time. I’m not sure what it means, but I don’t have time to unpack it.
I turn to Josie as the door closes and clasp my hands. “So, you show up unannounced to a man’s house, it’s got to mean something, right?”
I get another blush, but she tips her head. “First, I want to thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful and well, completely unexpected. It was very kind of you to send them.”
“I wasn’t sending them to be kind,” I say, and her eyes flare. “I sent them to let you know I was interested in you.”
“Oh, well… I see. I mean, there’s kindness and there’s interest, and I get there’s a difference, but…
not to say you can’t be kind and interested at the same time.
There are people who are very good at both, and I’m guessing you’re one of them, and…
” Her words trail off and she gives me a sheepish grin.
“I’m sorry. I’m rambling. I’m not usually like this. ”
She’s fucking adorable.
“Long day?” I hazard a guess.
“You have no idea.”
I stare at her a long moment. “Tell you what… come have a drink with me and we’ll talk. I know you’re here for more than just thanking me about the flowers.”
Relief wells in her eyes and her smile is completely disarming. “That sounds nice.”
Josie follows me to the bar, her head swiveling as she takes in the grandeur of my home. I’ve lived here for seven years and I’m trying to see what she sees through wondrous eyes.
The western wall of windows with leaded glass diamonds, the sliding glass doors that open an entire wall up to the outside, blanketed by yellow brocade drapery.
She takes in the crystal and brass chandelier I bought at an auction two years ago, the Gothic-arched limestone hearth and the Regency armchairs in striped silk.
But it’s the view beyond the glass doors that has her inhaling sharply.
It’s not just the patio and stone balustrade that has her attention but the Puget Sound orange from the last rays of sun as a ferry chugs from Bainbridge.
And beyond the water, the Olympic Peninsula already purple in the dying light.
“What would you like to drink?” I ask.
She jolts and looks back at me. “Um… whatever you’re having.”
“Lagavulin?” I ask, holding up the bottle. Scotch isn’t for everyone.
“That’s fine. Just a small one though.”
I get a fresh tumbler since Connie drained my other and pour barely an inch in another for Josie. I hand it over and then tap my glass to hers. “Here’s to not getting killed by crazy Russians.”
Josie actually laughs and hoists the crystal. “I’ll drink to that.”
She sniffs the liquor, takes a delicate sip and rolls it around before swallowing. “Oh, that’s really good. Thank you.”
Color me impressed. A woman who truly likes scotch.
“Come outside. I have the heaters on.”
There’s another gasp of pleasure when she steps outside, the biting chill hitting us followed by warmth as we settle into the same chairs I’d just been sitting in minutes ago with Marcus and Connie.
Josie stares out over the water a moment before turning back to me. “Why did you pull me out of the water?”
Why does everyone want to know my intentions?
“It was the right thing to do,” I offer.
“Right,” she says, as if she was expecting me to say that. She bobs her head. “I think you’re a good man, Finn Marlowe.”
I frown at her. “I like to think I am.”
“I know about your criminal record,” she says, and I blink at her in surprise. But then it hits me… of course she’d look me up. She’s got all the resources. “And I know you now own a fine art gallery, and—” She waves her hand toward the house. “And a mansion on Puget Sound.”
“That’s an interesting summary of my life, but I don’t disagree with any of it.”
“But… you knew that was Anatoli Voronin’s men and you most definitely knew they were trafficking those women.”
“What’s your point?” I ask before taking a sip of my drink.
“My point is you could help me with this case. I know you have some sort of inside scoop. I can’t figure out what it is, and really, I don’t care what it is. I’d just like your help.”
Of all the things I thought she’d say that never even crossed my mind. “You want me to help you catch Anatoli Voronin.”
The thought is appalling. Not that I wouldn’t like to see that son of a bitch put out of business and preferably rot in prison for the rest of his life, but because there’s no way in hell I’d get near this case.
If he ever found out I helped her last night, I’d be dead in less than twenty-four hours.
I’m careful when I let her down. “Look, Josie. I don’t know what you think I am or what type of contacts I have, but I’m a fine art dealer. If you vetted me, you know this. And I don’t know anything about Voronin that could help you—”
“Now, see… that’s just not true. Please don’t lie to me, Finn. If you don’t want to help, just say so, but don’t ever lie to me.”
I’m properly chastised and I don’t normally fashion myself as someone who tells untruths. But she called me out on it and I incline my head. “I promise I won’t lie to you, Josie, but please don’t ask me questions you might not want the answers to.”
She swallows hard and nods in understanding.
“What I should have said was, I don’t want to get mixed up in anything to do with Voronin. Do you understand?”
“But I just want information,” she pleads her case. “It’s not like I want you to help me catch him red-handed.”
I rub at my jaw, irritated that I’m equally charmed by her dedication to this and pissed that’s all she wants me for. I thought maybe there would be more fawning over my heroic efforts to save her.
“I’ll take anything you can give me,” she continues. “Even leads. I’ll never reveal that I got it from you, and I’ll keep you out of everyone’s line of sight, including my own employer’s. I just need a nudge in the right direction.”
I hear it in her tone. There’s some sort of pain—a need so deep that it would be crushing if not attained. If I had to guess, it’s those women. She can’t stomach what’s being done to them.
If Connie and Marcus ever caught wind of what I’m about to do, they’d have me committed.
“Tell you what,” I say, swirling the liquor in my glass. “You go out with me on a date, and I’ll give you something on Voronin.”
Those blue eyes go round, and her mouth opens in an O of surprise. “A date?”
“That’s right. A date for info. Fair trade, yes?”
“But… but…” She gestures with her hand between us. “You… want to go out with me?”
More than anything, I think to myself.
“A man doesn’t send flowers to a girl if he’s not interested in at least taking her to dinner.”
Josie smiles, presses her fingers to her lips and ducks her head. It’s almost as if she might burst into laughter, but she manages to control herself.
“Okay,” she says. “A date for info. We have a deal.”