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His dark eyes swept over her before turning back to focus out the front window. "There you were, looking all hot and s.e.xy in those tight little jeans and blouse and I didn't even get a chance to dance with you."
Hot and s.e.xy. Was that the way he saw her? "Do you like to dance?" she asked, grateful that her voice was steady and didn't betray anything of her inner emotions.
"I like to slow dance. I think it's one of the lost arts of our peers, who seem to prefer jumping around on the dance floor rather than being in each other's arms." Again those dark eyes of his swept over her. "I'd like to take you dancing sometime."
"I think I'd like that." Her breath caught in the center of her chest. Once again she looked out the window as she imagined being held tightly in his arms as they swayed to soft, romantic music.
"Where did you learn how to fight?"
She turned her head to look at him once again, surprised at the abrupt change of subject. "What do you mean?"
"Last night when I got to the club you were pushed up against a wall by some creep. I tried to get to you to help you out, but before I got there you took care of the problem yourself." His gaze held curiosity. "I've never seen anyone move so fast."
She inwardly cursed her stupidity yet again. Jonas had warned her from the time she was little never to display any show of her skills. In the blink of a few drinks she'd forgotten all she'd been taught.
"I've been trained in self-defense. Uncle Jonas made sure of it," she explained. "He's always been afraid that I'd be kidnapped because of his wealth and the work he does for the government with defense contracts and such."
He cast her a look that appeared to be full of surprise, then returned his gaze out the window. "He does seem to have his finger in a lot of pies," he said as he changed lanes and they flew down the highway.
"Yes, he does. I know that besides the import business and his contract work he dabbles in real estate, among other things." She felt herself relaxing with each mile that pa.s.sed. "What about your family? Do you have relatives here in town?"
She saw his fingers tighten around the steering wheel. "My mother and father live here in Miami, and I've got two brothers and a sister, but I haven't seen any of them for years."
She looked at him in surprise. As someone who'd always hungered for a real family of her own, she couldn't imagine such a thing...to have a big family in the same city and not see them every day. "Why don't you see them?"
He hesitated a long moment before replying. "You ever heard of Joey Barnes?"
Lynn frowned thoughtfully. "Isn't he some sort of Mafia guy?"
"Not Mafia, but organized crime. He's the head of a large crime network here in Miami and he's my father."
Lynn gasped in shock as she digested this information about him. She'd have never guessed. "Does Jonas know about this?"
"Yes, he's aware of my background."
"You don't see your family at all?"
His fingers seemed to relax their hold on the steering wheel. "When I was eighteen I realized I didn't want to be part of my father's lifestyle. I wanted to make my own way in the world. When I told my father that, he disowned me. I occasionally talk to my older brother, Anthony, and my mother, but that's it."
"When you were eighteen, is that when you started your security business?"
"No, I didn't start that until about seven years ago. Between the ages of eighteen and twenty-one, I just kind of drifted, trying to decide exactly what I wanted to do with my life."
"Still, it must be hard not to have any real contact with your family." She sighed wistfully. "I'd give anything to be able to talk to my mother and father or to have sisters and brothers in my life," she said.
"What did happen to your parents? I know Jonas raised you from the time you were a baby."
"Their boat capsized in a storm and they were lost. I was too young to even have any memories of them." She leaned her head back against the seat and smiled. "When I was younger, I went through a period when I was certain that someplace out in the world I had siblings."
"Do you think that's possible?" Nick asked.
"No. It was illogical for me to even entertain the notion, but I guess it was kind of like kids who dream up imaginary friends."
"You must have had a lonely childhood."
She hesitated a moment, then nodded. "Jonas has been loving and very good to me but he's gone so much of the time. Rita and Arturo have also been as close to family as can be, but, yes, I guess I did have a lonely childhood. Jonas has always been so protective."
Nick glanced at her, then returned his attention back to the road. "I'd say that's the understatement of the century. You mentioned last night something about being in a tower with blinking red eyes and cell phones that never stop ringing."
Lynn gasped and covered her mouth in horror. "I left my cell phone at home."
"Do you need to make a phone call?"
"No, but Jonas will probably be trying to call me." She couldn't believe she'd gone off without the phone. Apparently the fog in her brain from last night hadn't completely disappeared.
"So, he won't be able to reach you until you get back home. What's the problem?"
Indeed? What was the problem? She leaned her head back against the seat thoughtfully. Was it such a crime if Jonas didn't know her every movement, her exact whereabouts at all times of the day or night?
What other person her age had a parent figure checking up on them every couple of hours each day? She had to gain some independence in order to grow. Suddenly she didn't care that Jonas couldn't get ahold of her.
All too quickly they were back at the club. The only car in the lot was hers. "So, what's on your agenda for the rest of the day?" he asked as he parked next to her car.
"Nothing particular," she replied. "What about you?"
"I'm on security duty at noon today."
"Then I've taken up too much of your time already." She opened the pa.s.senger door and grabbed her purse from the seat between them. "Thanks again, Nick."
"No problem, and Lynn...if you remember asking me for a kiss last night, do you also remember what my response was?"
His eyes were dark and provocative as he held her gaze.
"That you'd kiss me when I was sober and could remember everything about the kiss." She repeated the words he'd said to her the night before.
He nodded, that s.e.xy grin sweeping over his lips. "You just let me know when you're ready, and I'll be more than happy to oblige you."
"I'll keep that in mind," she said.
Minutes later as she drove back toward home, her thoughts were filled with Nick Barnes. She tried to tell herself that he was probably just being kind, being sociable to the boss's daughter, but she knew it was more than that.
He didn't look at her as the boss's daughter. He looked at her as an attractive, desirable woman. Besides, surely he knew that sucking up to her would get him nowhere with Uncle Jonas.
Lynn recognized she was fairly naive in the arena of dating. Although she'd dated several men over the last couple of years, most of those dates had been arranged by Jonas for social events they were attending all together.
She'd met a few guys at college but n.o.body who affected her like Nick did. Her attraction to him was visceral, but that wasn't all there was to it.
For some reason she found him easy to talk to, didn't feel the suffocating shyness with him, and that merely increased her attraction to him.
He'd said he'd like to take her dancing sometime, and she was disappointed that he hadn't made any real date with her.
She shoved thoughts of him out of her mind and instead thought of the new job Jonas had pointed out to her, the recovery of the solid-gold vase that was on display at the Markham Center.
She'd spent much of the day yesterday on the Internet studying the floor plans of the building and reading up on anything she could find concerning the Markham Convention Center. There wasn't a computer file in the world she couldn't access, and she'd pulled up everything she could find on the convention center.
From studying the material she knew how to get in and out of the building and knew exactly what she had to do to retrieve the vase once inside. She'd done her homework and planned to execute the recovery that night.
The weather report predicted clouds moving in, and a cloudy night was perfect for her to do her work. Maybe by focusing on the work she loved, she'd stop thinking about Nick Barnes.
Jonas White stood at the window in his hotel room in Paris, the telephone pressed to his ear. He listened as Richard Dunst updated him on some of their business dealings. They were careful about what they said, knowing that Jonas was under FBI investigation and land phone lines could be tapped.
"I smell a romance brewing," Dunst said, when they'd finished their business talk.
"A romance? What are you talking about?"
"Lynn. She apparently has a new suitor. I saw her leaving this morning to take a drive with him."
Jonas tightened his grip on the receiver. So, this was probably why she hadn't answered his calls that morning. A sick tension began to twist in his gut. "Somebody from her cla.s.ses?"
"No. It's Nick."
"Nick? Nick Barnes?" Jonas frowned thoughtfully, relieved somewhat. At least this was a situation he could control. The tension in his gut ebbed as his mind whirled.
He supposed he shouldn't be surprised that Nick had finally noticed Lynn was a lovely young woman. And Nick was certainly not hard to look at himself, so it shouldn't surprise him that Lynn might be interested in the handsome head of security.
"I'll handle that situation when I get back to the States," he said to Dunst. "Meanwhile you need to focus on our other project. I'll be back within the week and I hope you'll have some good news for me."
Jonas disconnected the call and sat on the edge of the king-size bed, his mind a jumble of thoughts. He knew he was under investigation by the FBI. He'd been under investigation ever since they tied him to drug smuggler Marshall Carrington. So far they hadn't been able to prove anything but he was definitely on their radar.
The FBI surveillance was also the reason he tried to be out of the States whenever Lynn was going to retrieve a treasure. He made sure he could never be tied to the theft of those precious items.
If the FBI interest wasn't enough, there was a possibility that James Whitlow wouldn't win his bid for reelection as president of the United States in November. Ever since that b.i.t.c.h reporter, Tory Patton, had done an expose of Whitlow's questionable campaign money, Whitlow had lost the support of many of his const.i.tuents.
Jonas had donated a huge amount of money to Whitlow's campaign and had slipped in some funding from a drug lord he'd done business with in the past. That source of funds had created a blackmail tool that had put Jonas in the driver's seat. He'd been able to gently "persuade" the current administration to push legislation that was favorable to his interests.
If Whitlow lost the election in November, then Jonas would lose his power base in the White House. The thought of losing power was enough to put Jonas in a foul mood.
He got up from the bed and paced back and forth across the expanse of lush beige carpeting. The project Dunst was working on was to find a buyer for the diamond Lynn had lifted several days ago. Jonas was confident the sale would occur without a hitch.
Once again he stopped at the window and stared outside, where he could see in the distance the Eiffel Tower rising up against a cloudy sky. But his thoughts weren't on the pleasures of Paris.
He was worried about Lynn. Never had she questioned him about the work they did the way she had the other night. The intelligence she possessed that was such an a.s.set just might eventually become a liability.
It wasn't just her intelligence he worried about. He'd always known that she would grow up, that she'd want a relationship with a man. He'd dreaded the moment that might occur, had known it would be the beginning of a loss of control for him.
At least according to Dunst it was Nick he had to worry about instead of a cla.s.smate or stranger that he knew nothing about.
He'd been thinking about bringing Nick into the fold, allowing him more responsibility, more access to the inner workings of his business dealings. Maybe now was the time for that.
Surely in the last couple of days Nick and Lynn hadn't developed a relationship so close that she would have told him about her special powers. He hoped his warnings to her from the time she was a mere toddler would keep her from sharing that particular information with anyone.
Lynn had always been malleable and trusting concerning the work Jonas had her doing. She believed that each time she "retrieved" an artifact or jewel she was doing something good and altruistic. He didn't want anything or anyone to change that.
Somehow he'd manage to deal with the questions she asked and a.s.suage any doubts she might entertain about their work. She was his golden goose, stealing treasures and allowing him to fill his coffers with money. He would do and say whatever necessary to keep her working for him.
He smiled. Lynn had been his best, his finest acquisition.
If he found out that she'd told Nick about her work and about her unusual skills, and if Nick became a problem, then Jonas would do what was necessary to solve the problem.
Nick Barnes was expendable. If he wound up on the beach somewhere with a bullet in his head, the authorities would probably a.s.sume his murder had to do with his background, with the organized crime family he'd turned his back on.
Jonas left the window and walked over to the minibar, where he fixed himself a scotch on the rocks. He shouldn't be surprised that Lynn was testing her feminine wiles on a man. Jonas had been lucky she hadn't experienced any real, deep relationship in the past.
Maybe he should encourage this romance between her and Nick. At least Jonas could control the situation better if the suitor was Nick. Nick would have two choices. He could either go along with the program or he could wind up dead.
Chapter 5.
Lynn stood at her bedroom window and looked out. The night was dark, with thick cloud cover obscuring any moonlight that might try to shine down to earth.
Perfect, she thought as she left the window. It was just after midnight and she was ready to leave. Clad in a black pair of tight stretch slacks and a long-sleeved black T-shirt, she grabbed the stocking cap and a backpack of equipment from her bed and left the room.
Adrenaline pumped through her as she silently made her way down the stairs. She knew Rita and Arturo would be sound asleep.
She slipped as soundlessly as a shadow through the house out the mudroom door, then hurried across the driveway to where her car awaited her. She was focused solely on the task ahead. Get in, get the vase and get out.
Moments later, as she drove toward the Markham Convention Center, her thoughts raced to the job ahead. There was much about her work that she didn't understand.
She hated feeling like a thief, but Jonas had a.s.sured her many times that these thefts were secretly sanctioned by the government. He'd told her that it was important that he remain as distant from their work as possible, that as a wealthy businessman he'd made political enemies that could make life difficult for him if it was discovered what he and Lynn did.
He had also explained to her countless times that the local authorities weren't aware of the government involvement, and if she were caught she would be treated like a common criminal until the appropriate authorities could be contacted. However, he'd always a.s.sured her that the worst she could expect was a couple of hours in jail cooling her heels.
This made her all the more careful in the planning stages of each retrieval. The last thing she wanted was to get caught, arrested and taken down to a jail cell even if she'd only be there until the matter could be resolved.
Besides, if she were honest with herself she'd have to confess that she loved the challenge of this work. She loved using her natural skills and intelligence to do something few real thieves would even attempt.
It was a matter of pride that she not get caught and hauled into a police station like a common criminal.
The Markham Convention Center was one of several buildings in a block on the south side of Miami. The buildings were specifically used by large groups holding conventions or for special-interest groups holding exhibits open to the public.
Because normally the place was used for business conventions and not exclusively for exhibits, the security wasn't terrific. There were alarms at the doors and security guards who walked the perimeter, but that was it.