LITMIR.BIZ

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authorities.”

      Cullen looked around and smiled. “Charming.”

      Esther agreed, thinking, even though his gaze swept over her rather than his surroundings, surely he was referring to the apartment. “Are we clear?”

      “As clear as that exquisite Irish crystal in the hutch,” he said, pointing to a long display cabinet by the dining table.

      “Good.” Esther took a calming breath. “My friend was kind enough to let me rent this for as long as I need it. I love her quirky decorating style and how the light plays through all the windows. It’s my getaway from the Quarter. It’s quiet here, especially when she’s in Europe. I’d like to keep it that way.”

      He gave her a curious nod, then stood near the white leather sofa to admire an abstract painting by a local artist. “A very generous friend.”

      “Yes,” she retorted, her tone brooking no argument. “Part of our agreement for me to live here and keep an eye on things was discretion, one hundred percent discretion. I aim to honor that.”

      “Noble of you.” He looked bemused but didn’t press her for more details. “Friends such as you are hard to come by.”

      “And people like you are hard to understand.”

      “You have a dazzling wit about you, luv.”

      She grinned at that. “Sit down and I’ll find us something to eat.”

      “I am starving,” Cullen said. “I had a long flight and an even longer layover in Atlanta. American airports are as tedious as an ancient dig and not at all as exciting.”

      Esther took that in but decided she’d drill him after they’d both had time to catch their breaths. But instead of sitting, he paced and checked, going from window to window, his actions calculated and precise. And nerve-racking.

      “You think they’ll show up here?” she asked while she made turkey sandwiches and sliced fruit and cheese.

      “I don’t know. No one followed the taxi as far as I could tell. But all of these windows—”

      “I have a good alarm system.”

      “They’d know how to disarm it.”

      “Is that your way of trying to calm me down?”

      “I’m being realistic. I brought this on you, Esther. So I intend to protect you. I’m sorry.”

      She stopped spreading mayo and stared over the white marble counter at him. He seemed sincere, but it could be an act. “What if you were in on the whole thing?”

      He glowered. “Is that what you’re asking?”

      She frowned. “Is that what you’re trying to tell me? You did say you used to be a criminal.”

      He shook his head. “I wasn’t in on anything. I had one purpose—to see if you had the diamond. I’m strictly legal now. I was willing to split the sale fifty-fifty, same as what I talked about with your father. But I’m not willing to see you get hurt.”

      She slapped bread together and slid the plate with his sandwich toward him, purposely trying to ignore the little shiver of endearment that danced down her spine. Cullen had a way of looking at her that left her unsettled and completely confused. But he needed to explain how deeply her father had been invested in finding this diamond. “Sit down and we’ll talk.”

      After pouring them both iced tea, in two vintage crystal goblets, Esther sat across from him, her fingers playing with the fringe on the bright blue place mats. “My father always wanted to find the diamond. But he was more of a dreamer than a doer, so I find it hard to believe he actually acted on his dreams. He never quite got over my mother’s death.” She shrugged, pushed at her hair. “And then, he had me to deal with, of course.”

      Cullen drank down some tea then looked over at her. “But he loved you. You’ll see that when you read his letters. He always told me if anything happened to him, to make sure you got the letters back. I think it was his indirect way of having a record of his feelings. And maybe other things.” He shot her a glance that bordered on a plea.

      Had her father brought Cullen here as some sort of matchmaking ploy? Or maybe so she’d have a good friend. She was alone in the world, but perfectly capable of providing for herself. She didn’t need a babysitter or a bodyguard.

      But maybe her father had planned on this. Maybe he’d deliberately cultivated a relationship with a handpicked companion. After all, her father had tried hard to control her every move when she was younger.

      Ridiculous. Her father wouldn’t have done anything so crazy. But he would have thought about the diamond and keeping her from danger. So…Cullen was her protector?

      Double ridiculous.

      “He never spoke about his feelings. He kept everything buried inside while he obsessed about other things.” The jealousy she felt at Cullen’s closeness with her father stuck in her throat, stifling her breath. She grabbed a strawberry to wash it away. “I shouldn’t resent you, but I do for some reason.”

      “I never would have guessed,” he replied, his tone soft, his eyes dark and intense with sympathy and concern. “His focus was on research and discovery, nothing more. But I do feel as if I know you already, having read those letters.”

      Esther felt the heat of that admission move down her body. She did not blush becomingly, but she couldn’t stop the flush of warmth covering her face. Blotches of red would soon follow.

      Squaring her shoulders, she asked, “What do you think you know?”

      He smiled, bit into a big green grape. “I know that you love reading classic romance novels, especially rare first editions. I know that you have a keen fascination for all things old and interesting, like your parents did. I know that you wanted to be a sculpture artist and that you are, but you’re tied to that antiques shop out of a sense of duty and obligation. However, you’ve had several very good showings, critically acclaimed exhibits where some pieces sold to a couple of very famous people, or so I’ve heard. Impressive.”

      She stiffened again. He couldn’t know that one of those sculptures sat in the entryway of the main house here. Intimate Images. It was an abstract of love, life and joy, forged in steel and stone—the way true love was forged. Lara, a true romantic, had loved it on sight.

      Esther put that out of her mind for now. “I manage to handle both my art and the shop, thank you very much.”

      He lifted his finger and trailed it over her knuckles, the electricity of his touch shocking her. “No need to get all testy, luv. You are, after all, noble. It’s refreshing.”

      She used anger to cover gratitude. “Why don’t you stop analyzing me and explain yourself?”

      He grinned. “I did not know that talking about yourself would make you so uncomfortable.”

      “Well, now you do. But having you explain things to me might make me more open to discussing the intimate details of my life—which you seem to know already anyway.”

      He sat back on the sleek white bar stool, his aggravatingly rugged presence overshadowing the art deco kitchen. “Okay, here’s the story. I was born and raised in Dublin, Ireland. I’m the middle child of three. We didn’t have much growing up, but we all worked hard. My father was strict and quiet, until he drank and then he was loud and mean. My mother was loving and sweet. She’s still alive. He is not. I have an older sister and a younger sister. I was always intrigued by the past, so I studied history and archaeology in college—I worked my way through college, by the way. But I fell in with a bad lot and got in a spot of trouble.”

      “Criminal trouble?”

      “Yes. I worked for a man who had no scruples.”

      “But you stopped working for this man?”

      He actually looked uncomfortable

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