The Taming of the Thief by Heather Long

“Of
course you can.” He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. They were
standing in the middle of her living room, awareness flaring between them and
it took all of her willpower to keep from swaying into his larger frame.
            “Pietr.” Exasperation coated his name on her tongue.
            “Sophie.” The grin on his face grew, but the
seriousness in his gaze remained.
            “Pietr, we just met. I can't possibly stay
with you. Not that I am not grateful for last night, you were really very kind,
but we've known each other, what? Fourteen hours?”
            “Fourteen months, fourteen weeks or fourteen
days, it doesn't matter. Not when someone tried to kill you last night. You can stay with me and you will stay with me .
The hotel has better security and I can keep an eye on you.” The harsh truth of
his words washed over her and Sophie retreated.
            Someone had shot at her last night.
            Someone had killed Doctor Hinkley the day
before.
            Pietr
kept pace with her until her knees hit the sofa and she sat, abruptly.
            “But
why do you want to keep an eye on me? Frank is here. Detective Bryant…”
            Pietr
made a cutting motion with his hand and Sophie went silent. “Detective Bryant
didn't believe you until the shooting in the pub and I am not sure he is even
aware of the extent of the situation.”
            “The extent of what situation?”
            It
was Pietr's turn to sigh and scrub a hand over his face. He sat down on the
coffee table, his knees bracketing her legs. “Your research has tugged a few
lines in Europe. That's what brought me here last night.”
            “My research?” Her hands were limp when Pietr gathered them
into his. Unease crawled up her spine.
            “Your research. You've been gathering information on artifacts
with Middle and Far Eastern origins. That research triggered phishing programs
that sample for specific search terms.”
            “What
are you talking about? Isn't phishing illegal?”
            “When you are searching for a person's personal data, yes. But similar algorithms can be written to piggyback searches on key phrases,
triggering an alert.”
            “And
you think something I am researching triggered an alert?” Skepticism salted the
pauses in her words. It sounded more like a Dan Brown or Scott Turow novel than
anything that happened in real life. She tried to pull her hands away, but
Pietr's grip closed over them, locking them together between his larger hands.
            A
frisson of alarm skated across her awareness.
            “I
know it did. It would explain how Walter got your name and why he called me
about it.” The last hint of playfulness evaporated under the gravity of his
words. “It's why I flew to New York. It's why I went to the museum yesterday
and why you found me in your apartment last night.”
          Fear uncurled a second fist in her stomach,
smothering the ache of need his earlier invitation had awoken.
          “What item?” Sophie demanded, her hands were
ice and not even the wicked heat of Pietr's grip on them could warm her.
          “Sophie,” his voice gentled, but she shook
her head, not wanting to fall sway to his seductive charm.
          “What item?” She repeated, steeling her
shoulders for his next words. She'd known he'd wanted something from the night
before, they'd even talked about it, but the actual request had yet to be aired.
She shouldn't feel betrayed, but the insanity of what he suggested tumbled in
knots against her chest.
          He met her gaze gravely and lifted her cold,
unresponsive hands to his lips. The tender kiss stabbed at her anxiety, but she
refused to be distracted.
          Not again.
          “What item?”
          “It's called The Fortunate Buddha . It was stolen from a monastery in Thailand
nearly two years ago. It's passed