Always a Thief - Kay Hooper [72]
“Reel him in,” Wolfe suggested bluntly.
“It's not that simple.”
“Maybe it should be.”
Wary that the tentative peace between the two men could end abruptly over this, Storm intervened to say calmly, “Alex is certainly in the best position to track another thief, so until we're absolutely certain Jane Doe or her murder is connected to the museum, it's probably best not to split his focus.”
“Morgan already has,” Jared muttered.
“Best not to split it a third way, then.” Storm smiled. “Can't fight human nature, guys, we all know that. Maybe it is a lousy time for those two to find each other, but we're not really in control of these things.” She was smiling at Wolfe. “Are we?”
His face softened. “No. No, we're not.”
Whatever Jared might have said to that was lost when a timid knock on the door interrupted them. Chloe Webster stuck her head in without waiting for a response.
“Storm— Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were alone.”
“It's all right, Chloe. What's up?”
“Inspector Tyler just called Mr. Dugan to tell him the forensics team wants to take another look at the basement. Possible points of entry, I think he said. I thought you should know.”
Storm nodded. “Okay, Chloe. Thanks.”
The new assistant curator sort of ducked her head and hastily withdrew, closing the door softly.
“Am I being paranoid,” Jared said, “or was that a pretty flimsy excuse to see what was going on in here?”
“You're being paranoid,” Wolfe said, then grimaced and looked inquiringly at Storm.
“She's poking her nose into corners, but that's natural,” Storm said. “Trying to learn the place. I haven't seen anything to send up red flags. The background check was clean, you both know that.”
Jared sighed. “Yet another tangent, probably. I'm getting suspicious of everyone. Christ, I wish Nightshade would make his move and get it over with.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” Storm warned soberly.
It was late afternoon before Morgan could summon the energy to resume their earlier conversation, and when she did her voice was wondering. “Borrowed them. You borrowed the Carstairs diamonds. You're a lunatic, you know that?”
He chuckled softly.
Persisting, she said, “You took an awful chance to steal that necklace. You could have been caught by San Francisco police officers who don't give a damn about your deal with Interpol. Or you could have been killed.”
“I needed it, Morgana. Nightshade required a . . . good-faith gesture.”
“You stole it for him?”
“I borrowed it so he'd think I stole it for him. The Carstairs family will get it back, don't worry.”
“If you say so.” Pushing herself up onto her elbow beside him, Morgan gazed at his relaxed face and said in bemusement, “It's nearly four in the afternoon, and we're in bed.”
He opened one bright eye, then closed it, tightened his arm around her, and sighed pleasurably. “My idea of how to spend an ideal afternoon.”
She reached out and began toying with the dark- gold hair on his chest. “Yes, but I haven't even talked to anybody at the museum. And when I do talk to them, what do I say? I've taken a whole day off without any explanation at all, very rare for me, and it wasn't because I ran into Nightshade on a fire escape last night.”
Quinn opened his eyes. They were still bright and very steady on her face. He was smiling slightly. “Do you care if they know we're lovers?”
She shook her head impatiently. “No, of course not. But will this—our being lovers—cause any problems for you? With Nightshade, I mean.”
After a moment, Quinn said, “Not if I can convince him that I seduced you to get information about the exhibit.”
Very conscious of the intent, searching look in his eyes, Morgan smiled. “Is that why you haven't asked me any specifics about the exhibit? So I could be sure you weren't after information?”
He reached up and brushed a strand of her glossy black hair away from her face, his fingers lingering to stroke her cheek. “Maybe. It isn't something I do, Morgana. I want you to understand that.”
Perhaps oddly, she believed him. For