Christmas Male(13)

Fiona found herself agreeing again. They would have to scrutinize Gregory Shalnokov.

“And to prove that I’ll make a valuable partner, I learned from one of the guards that the display case housing the Rubinov could only be opened with Shalnokov’s voice.”

She stopped short and turned to stare at him. He hadn’t had to tell her that. Not that she wouldn’t have eventually discovered it for herself.

As if he read her mind, he said, “If we’re going to be partners, it’ll save time if we share everything.”

“Okay.” As the first snowflakes began to fall, the wind stung her cheeks. Turning up her collar, she started down the next block. “Right now, the only suspect we’ve got is Private Hemmings. That’s going to be a PR problem for the army.”

“True.”

“I’m worried that you might have an agenda—to prove Amanda Hemmings innocent.”

“I won’t lie to you. That’s the outcome my general would prefer.”

She slanted him a look. “That could interfere with your objectivity.”

“It won’t. What about you? You’re also going to have a bit of a PR problem if one of your volunteers used her work to help out with the theft.”

“That won’t keep me from digging out the truth.”

“Then we shouldn’t have a problem. How’s the food at this restaurant we’re going to?”

“Excellent. But we’re not going there to eat.”

D.C. sighed. “A man can dream. What’s your captain like?”

“I wouldn’t want to spoil your first impression.”

“Fair enough.”

For half a block, they walked again in silence. And it was oddly companionable, Fiona realized. The street was quiet. At seven-thirty, residents had either left for the night or were celebrating the season with family and friends. Lights twinkled on shrubs, and Christmas trees glowed in the windows.

They were still a hundred yards from the corner when two figures rounded it and headed toward them. They wore jeans and hooded sweatshirts. Both male, Fiona decided. And young. Each was using earphones and one was texting a message. The Georgetown campus was only a short distance, so they could be college kids. But it was a little early on a Friday night to be heading back from one of the watering holes on P Street that students favored.

“Trouble,” D.C. murmured.

His instincts were aligned with hers, and adrenaline spiked through her. “A couple of hours ago I was practically praying for a little snatch and run.”

“Be careful what you wish for.”

The two young men were drawing steadily closer.

“Look.” He spoke softly as he slipped his hand around her upper arm. “Let’s make it easy for them.”

“I’m not giving them my purse.”

“Of course not. We just want to throw them off guard. Follow my lead. When I turn you, bring your purse up between us.”

Without waiting for a reply, he pulled her close until only her evening bag separated them. Even while she slipped her hand in and grasped her revolver, she was intensely aware of other details. Other sensations. His chest was hard as a rock, and he was taller than she’d thought. In her heels, she still only came up to his chin. His hand was large enough to wrap completely around her arm. Even through her coat sleeve, she could feel the pressure of each one of his fingers. And she was pretty sure she’d need a crowbar to dislodge them.

“What are you…” Her whispered words trailed off as he bent his head closer. For one instant, she was sure he was going to kiss her. Every nerve in her body went on full alert. She should have moved—pushed him away. But she was helpless against the wave of longing that moved through her. For one instant, she lost track of every thought. All she wanted was to feel his lips against hers.

At the last moment, he angled his head and whispered in her ear. “Can you get your gun out?”

Ruthlessly, she focused. “Already did.” They were about to be mugged. In her peripheral vision, she saw a figure crossing the street. “There’s one behind us.”

“You handle him. On a count of three. One…”

He wasn’t giving her any time to argue. The other two were close enough that she could hear their footfalls on the pavement.

“Two…”

She didn’t like the plan. She was the one with the gun and he was outnumbered. What if…?

“Three.”

Even as she stepped away and brought her revolver up, she angled her stance so that she could keep D.C. and the other two in her peripheral vision. Still she barely caught the flash of movement as the cane struck one of the young men in the arm. He yelped in pain.