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No, she thought. He was never playful.
“Come on.” He motioned to the courtyard, his demeanor stern and strong and businesslike. “Let’s sit down, and I’ll fill you in on the case.”
Ten minutes later, they occupied a glass-topped table, each with a hot drink in front of them.
Maggie’s mocha cappuccino tasted rich and sweet, flavored with a splash of raspberry syrup. Luke drank his coffee strong and black. Which suited him, she thought.
He lifted his gaze and looked directly into her eyes. For an instant she held her breath. Lucas Starwind never failed to accelerate her heartbeat.
“We’re dealing with the possibility of a biological weapon,” he said.
The air in her lungs rushed out. “That’s what’s on the CD I discovered? Some sort of scientific formula that could kill people?”
He gave a tight nod. “We’ve recovered six CDs in all, including the one you have, but there’s more out there. The files they contain were pirated from the Rosemere Institute.”
“That doesn’t make sense.” Maggie’s grandfather, King Thomas, had founded the Rosemere Institute in hopes of discovering a cure for cancer. “How could the Institute have anything dangerous in their files?”
“Because they’ve been focusing on viral genetic research,” he explained. “The idea is to tailor a virus that will destroy cancer cells without debilitating the patient the way radiation and chemotherapy do.”
Waiting for Luke to continue, Maggie placed her hands around her coffee cup, drawing warmth from the porcelain.
“Last year the Institute made a breakthrough in their research,” he said. “But they also explored a number of dead ends. And one of those dead ends led to the accidental creation of a virus that stimulates a fast-growing cancer. A virus that’s vectored through the air.”
Momentarily stunned, Maggie stared at him. “They created a cancer? Did King Thomas know?”
“Yes. He made sure the original virus was destroyed, along with the final codes needed to fabricate it. But if a top-quality lab had all of the Institute’s data, they could figure out the final codes and re-create it.”
“How many of the CDs are still missing?”
“Enough to worry about. Whoever has them intends to sell them on the black market. That’s what this whole scheme is about.”
Her pulse pounded in her throat. Biological warfare wasn’t what she had expected. “So this is why King Thomas and Prince Marc were killed?”
Luke paused, gauging Maggie’s expression. She looked pale, sad and worried. He decided now wasn’t the time to tell her that Prince Marc had most likely been involved in stealing the files. In a roundabout way, her uncle’s treachery had cost him his life.
“Rafe and I aren’t clear on all the details,” he said. “We know the Kelly crime family is responsible, and even though they’re in prison now, they still have ties in Altaria.”
She lifted her coffee with both hands. “So solving this case means recovering the rest of the CDs and putting the Altarian traitors behind bars?”
“That’s exactly what it means.”
A moment of silence stretched between them, but Luke assumed she needed to absorb the harsh reality of what she’d just learned.
The courtyard didn’t provide much of a wind block. Maggie’s hair blew wildly around her shoulders, each light-brown strand tipped with gold. She wore a camel-colored coat, the collar lined with a faux-print fur. The effect was stunning. And distracting, Luke thought.
She seemed vulnerable, and that made him want to touch her.
She replaced her cup with an unsteady hand. “This is so awful. King Thomas founded the Institute because his wife died from cancer. He was trying to do something good for mankind, not destroy it. He loved his queen very much. It broke his heart to watch her suffer.”
Luke nodded. He had seen firsthand how terribly cancer patients suffered, how the disease ravaged. He had lost his father to colorectal cancer. But Luke wasn’t going to tell Maggie about his past or the ache that came with it. The burden was his, and his alone. And so was the broken promise he’d made to his dad.
He stared at his coffee, into the void of nothingness. He wanted to drop his head in his hands and mourn the mistakes he’d made.
But he couldn’t. There was no turning back. He had to live with what he’d done, face himself in the mirror every day and despise the reflection.
“Are you all right?” Maggie asked.
Instantly, he locked away the pain. “Of course I am.”
Their eyes met and held. Hers were a pale wash of blue, flecked with tiny sparks of green. Her incredible, ever-changing eyes.
“Are you sure?” she pressed. “You seem troubled.”
“It’s a troubling case,” he responded.
“Yes, it is,” she agreed, her gaze never wavering from his.
Once again he longed to touch her. They sat side by side, their shoulders nearly brushing. He resisted the urge to lift his hand, to stroke her cheek, to feel the warmth radiating from her skin.
Luke reached for his coffee and sipped the bitter brew. This investigation was too critical to get sidetracked by a beautiful woman. Especially since she was the lady he had vowed to protect.
Rey-Star Investigations was located in a dramatic tower overlooking the city. Maggie took the elevator to the ninth floor and entered Luke’s office through double-glass doors.
A blue-eyed blonde sat behind a mahogany reception desk. Focusing on a computer screen, she pursed her racy red lips, forming a provocative pout.
She was stunning—in a bombshell kind of way. A sweater, the same notice-me shade as her lipstick, stretched across her ample bosom.
Maggie frowned, irked that Luke had a blow-up doll working for him. She cleared her throat and waited for the receptionist to acknowledge her.
The blonde looked up and flashed a thousand-watt smile. That, too, managed to irritate Maggie. Apparently the other woman, who probably shared Luke’s bed whenever he beckoned, didn’t see her as a threat.
Clearly Luke wasn’t as lonely as he appeared.
“May I help you, Ms. Connelly?” the receptionist asked.
“Yes, thank you.” She wasn’t surprised the other woman had recognized her. Maggie’s celebrity rarely went unnoticed. “Is Mr. Starwind available?”
“I’ll let him know you’re here.”
Within minutes Maggie was escorted into Luke’s office. He stood beside a window, gazing out at the city. The room was furnished with an ebony desk, leather chairs and a lacquered bar. A slim marble table held a bronze eagle, its enormous wings poised in flight. Stone and metal, she thought, with a blend of masculine elegance.
Luke turned and met Maggie’s gaze. Dressed entirely in black, he looked as striking as the decor.
He shifted his gaze to his receptionist. “Thank you, Carol.”
The blonde nodded and closed the door behind her.
Luke and Maggie stared at each other for what seemed like an endless amount of time.
“She’s quite the bombshell,” Maggie said finally.
He moved away from the window and sat on the edge of his desk. “Who? Carol?”
Yes, Carol, she thought, wondering why he bothered to play dumb. “I wasn’t aware busty blondes were your type.”
He crossed his arms, his mouth set in an unforgiving line. “So you analyzed her, did you?”
“Women notice other women,” she replied in her own defense. “We’re quite observant in that regard.”
“Really? Then why don’t you give me your evaluation of her?”
Maggie removed her coat and flung it over a chair. Luke remained where he was, perched on the edge of his glossy desk.
“Let’s see.” She walked to the bar and poured herself a cherry cola. Rattling the ice in her glass, she took a sip. “Carol takes long lunches, wears cheap perfume and keeps her boss entertained on cold winter nights. She has an average IQ, and buys more clothes than she can afford.”
Luke uncrossed his arms and tapped his chin in an analytical gesture. “That’s very interesting, but you’re wrong on every count. First of all, she works her tail off. Second, most perfumes, cheap or otherwise, give her a headache. She also happens to be sharp as a tack, frugal to a fault and happily married to a man who adores her.”
Maggie wanted to sink into the carpet. “I suppose they have children?”
He nodded. “Two little boys. Whose pictures are prominently displayed on her desk. But you didn’t notice them. Just like you didn’t notice the absence of a fragrance or the gold band shining on her finger.”
Mortified, she lowered herself to a chair. “I’m a lousy detective, aren’t I?”
“The worst.”
Maggie winced. Blond hair. Big breasts. Luke’s bed. Her evaluation had stemmed from a catty scratch of jealousy. Which was something she had never experienced before.
“I’m sorry,” she managed to say, thinking she owed Carol an apology as well.
He shrugged, and they both drifted into what she considered uncompanionable silence. She certainly wasn’t doing a very good job of making Lucas Starwind smile. And that was something she would have to remedy. Maybe not today, but soon.
“So, am I going to work with you here at the office?” she asked.
“Don’t you have finals this week?”
“I can come by afterward.”
“Then you’re welcome to use Tom’s old office.”
“Thank you.” She wished this wasn’t a baby-sitting effort on his part. Maggie preferred to earn her keep. But that rarely happened. No one gave her any credit, not even her own family.
Thoughtful, she studied her companion. Sooner or later the brooding detective would figure her out correctly. He would see her for who she really was. Wouldn’t he?
“What is your type, Luke?”
He blinked. “What?”
“Your type of woman,” she clarified.
He drilled her gaze, and their eyes clashed. Her pulse skipped like a stone, and she decided they were perfect for each other. No other man challenged her the way he did. Or made her care so deeply. She needed him as much as he needed her.
“I don’t have one,” he responded steadily.
Oh, yes you do, she thought. And I’m her.
Detective work, Maggie decided, didn’t live up to its TV image. They weren’t tailing bad guys, lurking in trench coats on a shadowy street corner or dodging bullets in a high-speed car chase. Instead they faced mounds and mounds of paperwork.
It was Saturday afternoon, a light snow blanketed the ground, and she and Luke were holed up in his town house, poring over files, cataloging information about individuals and corporations known to have even the slightest association with the Kelly crime family. Luke was searching for someone, anyone, who might have an interest in the missing CDs. Locating a potential buyer, he claimed, could lead them to the Altarian traitor.
“Aren’t the files encoded?” she asked. “How can they sell encrypted CDs?”
“The encryption can be broken. Not easily, but it can be done. The Kellys tried to get the encryption program from the Connelly Corporation computer system, but they failed.”
“Does the Chicago P.D. know about the cancer virus? Didn’t Rafe have to tell them when they arrested the Kellys?”
“No,” Luke responded. “He didn’t have to tell them. He led the police to believe the Kellys stole valuable data relating to the Institute’s purpose—a cure for cancer. The fewer people who know the truth, the better. We don’t need an international scandal on our hands.”
Maggie nodded, then studied Luke’s profile. He sat beside her in his home office, tapping away on a laptop.
“Why don’t you send some undercover agents to Altaria?” she suggested. “There must be someone you can trust to keep an eye on things over there.”
“I’ve already done that. I’ve got some former military men on it. Guys I served with. I planted someone at the castle and at the Rosemere Institute. And I’ve got another man watching the textile mill.”
Maggie thought about the CD that had been accidentally forwarded to her. If the syndicate had discovered their error, her life would have been threatened. She understood how dangerous this case was, and she appreciated Luke for his skill and dedication. “Sounds like you’ve got everything under control.”
“I’m trying to stay one step ahead of the game.” He rolled his shoulders and nearly bumped her arm. The desk they shared was barely big enough for two. “But unfortunately the men I sent to Altaria haven’t uncovered any leads.”
He stopped typing and turned to look at her. His face was close enough to see the detail of his skin, the faded scar near his left eyebrow, the slight shadow of beard stubble. She was tempted to touch him, to run her fingers over those stunning cheekbones. As an artist, she was fascinated by his features. As a woman, she couldn’t help but admire his rugged appeal.
“I need to tell you something about Prince Marc,” he said.
Instantly Maggie braced herself. There was always something to be said about her uncle. Prince Marc had been a charming, dashing playboy. Considered one of Europe’s most eligible bachelors, he’d juggled lovers the way he’d juggled his finances. He’d also fathered a daughter out of wedlock, but unfortunately hadn’t proved to be much of a parent.
Nonetheless, Maggie had loved him. He was still her blood.
“Prince Marc had an association with the Kellys,” Luke announced.
For a moment she only stared. Her uncle, the free-spirited prince, had been involved in organized crime? A man the media often compared her to?
Her stomach knotted. “In what capacity?”
“He owed the Kellys money. His gambling debts were eating him alive.” Luke sighed. “We believe he was part of the smuggling scam, Maggie.”
“That can’t be.” She jumped to her feet, paced a little. “He was murdered in the same speedboat accident as the king. They were together.”
“Think about it. Prince Marc hadn’t originally planned on being on the boat that day. He’d gone with his father at the last minute. Therefore, he wasn’t the intended hit.”
She stopped pacing. “So what’s your theory?”
