Christmas Male(40)

Fiona took one and bit into it.

D.C. unwrapped his own hamburger. “I thought of getting you a spinach salad. But you only ate half a scone for breakfast so I opted for meat and potatoes.”

He had the sandwich halfway to his mouth when he turned to her. “Tell me you’re not a vegetarian.”

Fiona’s lips twitched. “I’m not a vegetarian.” Then to prove it, she bit into the burger. The combination of juicy meat, sharp cheese and tangy dill had her quickly taking another bite.

“Good?” D.C. asked.

“Mmm,” was all Fiona could manage to mumble.

He handed her a napkin. “Why did you become a cop?”

She shook her head. “This is date talk, right?”

“Busted.”

He’d brought the food, so she supposed she could go with the flow. She took another bite of her burger and gave it some thought. “I saw it as a way of making a difference. How about you? Why did you become an MP?”

“I like solving puzzles, even when I’m in the middle of a case like this, when we seem to be turning over stone after stone with no result.”

She met his eyes, and the understanding she saw in them did more than the aspirin to ease her headache.

“We’re going to find something, Fiona. I’m betting that the diamond was taken out of the exhibition room through those service doors. But even with the code, someone would have had to hack into the security system and either shut it off or delay the start-up—at least for the length of time it would take to get into the case and switch the necklaces,” D.C. said.

“So that means we’re right back where we started. Whoever is behind this had to be a real pro or an extremely talented amateur,” Fiona pointed out.

“I’m leaning toward a combination of both. What we’ve got here sort of boils down to two sets of suspects. We know there had to be someone on the inside. The timing of the switch in that exhibition room had to be very precise. Then we have the probable involvement of Amanda Hemmings and three others who were rank amateurs. We could go with the theory that Billy had the expertise to jam the security system. And let’s say Amanda’s job was to get the diamond out of the National Gallery. We still have to account for the recording of Shalnokov’s voice—and for someone on the inside who knew the security procedures.”

Fiona bit into a French fry. “Say you have the perfect plan to rob the National Gallery, why involve amateurs like Billy and Amanda?”

“Maybe they had to.”

“No matter which way we try to spin it, Amanda Hemmings is in the thick of it.”

“I agree. The question is how is she involved?”

Fiona traded her half-eaten hamburger to D.C. for more French fries.

“Arthur Franks could be the one pulling all their strings. But he’s not going to admit it.” D.C. licked ketchup off his thumb, then began to gather their wrappers and stuff them into the empty paper bag. “Even if Chance gets us permission to visit him, it’s highly unlikely he’ll tell us anything. So let’s go question Billy.”

She started to rise, but D.C. moved quickly. He cupped the back of her neck with one hand and tilted up her chin with the other.

“What’s a winter picnic without dessert?” He lowered his head just enough to nip her bottom lip.

Fiona heard her breath shudder out. With it went any will to resist.

He took her mouth slowly as if he were indeed sampling some rich, forbidden dessert. With just the tip of his tongue he traced her lips, lingering at each corner, mingling his breath with hers.

She was losing ground, sinking deeper and deeper into an airless world. The music from the ice rink changed rhythm and tempo until it was beating as fast as her heart. A cold breeze rattled the paper bag that still lay between them on the bench, but all she was aware of was the heat that radiated through her from his hands.

He captured her bottom lip with his teeth and nibbled, then drew it into his mouth to suck until she began to tremble, and an ache began to build inside of her. She placed a hand on his chest, felt the cool leather beneath her palm and the rapid pulse of his heart beneath.

In some part of her mind, she knew she should push him away. But she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. Instead, with a moan that was half surrender, half demand, she pressed her mouth fully to his. Arousal exploded into passion in the instant of full contact. And she slid deeper into a world where there was only him.

It cost him to pull back, to force himself to remember where they were. Her eyes were clouded, her cheeks flushed, her mouth still swollen from his sensual assault. He released her before he gave into the temptation to kiss her again.