She glanced over her shoulder at him as he picked up the ceramic lamp on the nightstand and checked to make sure it hadn’t been tampered with in any way. “If there is no evidence of the necklace and its whereabouts, then how does this Carranza person know that Anthony stole it at all?”

He noted her concerned expression before heading toward the armoire against the far wall. “Good question,” he acknowledged, silently admiring the way she addressed important facts most people wouldn’t even consider. She was thinking like a detective, though he suspected she wouldn’t appreciate being enlightened as to her natural investigative instincts.

“From what we’ve learned, Anthony made the mistake of contacting a guy who fences stolen merchandise and asked him if he was interested in some diamonds and emeralds.” Opening the double doors to the armoire, he pulled out a cedar-lined drawer and found his hands immersed in a froth of silk and lace lingerie.

Damn. Heat licked through his veins, spiraling low. Quickly and efficiently he sifted through the sexy stuff that smelled as feminine as Paige. He found too much that piqued his interest, and nothing to warrant an extensive investigation of the contents of this particular drawer. He slammed it shut. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do to banish the erotic images of Paige wearing a pair of those sheer panties and a matching wispy camisole.

“So, what happened?” Paige asked, jarring him out of his fantasy and effectively dousing his arousing mental vision.

He glanced over his shoulder. She slipped a hardbound book back into the nightstand and looked up at him with wide eyes full of interest. “Apparently, the fence has done business with Bridget before, and had heard about the missing Ivanov necklace. He knew he’d be rewarded for finding the jewels, not to mention stay on Carranza’s good side, and tipped Bridget off about Anthony’s inquiry.”

She raised a brow and stood. “Since there was no hard evidence that Anthony actually had the necklace, that’s pure speculation, don’t you think?”

He liked the way her mind worked, the way she didn’t settle for a pat explanation. “Yes and no,” he admitted. He took a moment to move the armoire and check the carpeting beneath, then arranged it back into place. “Bridget confronted Anthony about the inquiry, and he admitted he had the necklace and told her he’d cut her in on the deal. She’s very loyal to Carranza and didn’t go for it. When Carranza challenged him, Anthony denied everything. Carranza isn’t known for leniency or second chances.”

“No, it doesn’t seem so, does it?” She rubbed her arms through the sleeves of her turtleneck, as if experiencing a sudden chill, though the room was comfortably warm. “So what are we going to do when we find the necklace? Give it back to Carranza?”

“Hell, no.” She might be smart with investigative theories, but she was more than a little naive when it came to street intelligence. The vulnerability brought out his protective instincts, made him choose his explanation carefully. “We need the necklace as a lure. Carranza wants the Ivanov necklace, and we want him. This time, we’re going to nail him.”

She frowned. “How?”

He removed another picture from the wall, found nothing out of the ordinary, and replaced it. “Remember that portrait you had taken for Anthony on your first anniversary? You know, the one where you’re wrapped in that white fur?”

His question surprised her, and her answer came hesitantly. “Yes, I remember.”

And there was no way he could ever forget it. When Anthony had shown him a wallet-sized replica of that 16 x 20 portrait, Josh had been stunned by the transformation in Paige. Gone was the beautiful, conservative woman, and in her place was a seductive vixen. It had been one of those sexy, sensual portraits, soft and unfocused, like something straight out of a man’s fondest fantasy. She’d been posed on her side, with a white fur wrap draped strategically along her sleek curves. One hand held the fur to her breasts, displaying a hint of cleavage and leaving her shoulders bare. One long leg slipped out of the folds so it appeared she wore nothing at all beneath the fur covering. Her thick, dark hair was tousled enticingly around her face, and she was looking into the camera with a provocative smile that promised endless pleasures.

Yeah, the portrait was perfect for what he had in mind. “Where is it?”

“I packed it away.”

“You need to unpack it.”

Judging by the wariness turning her eyes a deep shade of green, she wasn’t too thrilled with the direction of their conversation. “Why?”

“The department has commissioned an artist to paint your portrait and add the Ivanov necklace. That picture would be perfect to use.”

“I’d hardly think so,” she argued. “Josh, the only thing I’m wearing in that picture is a white fur wrap!”

“Which will offset the necklace beautifully,” he reasoned. “Once the portrait is done, which should take about a week, we’ll hang it in your office at the Wild Rose.”

Her jaw literally fell open, and she looked at him as if he were a few rounds short of a full clip. “Why in the world would I hang a portrait of myself? And one that’s so…”

“Sexy?” he offered.

“Yes!”

She looked so indignant, he couldn’t stop the grin tugging the corner of his mouth. “Because that’s the kind of woman you’ve been portrayed as, someone who’s pampered and a little pretentious. And you are sexy, Paige,” he said. Then he added in a soft, meaningful tone, “Besides, you would have to hang a portrait that was a gift from your lover, wouldn’t you?”

She fingered the high collar of her turtleneck, where a becoming shade of pink was slowly rising. “Don’t you think this is taking things too far?”

“Nope.” He headed toward the walk-in closet, the last place they needed to search. She followed at a discreet distance. “Once the picture is up, our plant will tell Carranza that he’s heard about the portrait in which you’re wearing the necklace. That’s all it will take for Carranza to pay you a visit.”

“And put a gun to my head and demand the necklace?” she asked sarcastically from behind him.

He immediately tossed out the horrible image her question projected in his mind. It wasn’t a scenario he wanted to consider at the moment, though there would be precautions taken to avoid such a situation.

Turning on the light in the closet, he began sliding the clothes on hangers aside so he could check the wall behind. “Our sources tell us he’s not into violence unless absolutely necessary. Our guess is that he’ll make a few inquiries about the necklace and find out what you know about it. He might even pretend interest in purchasing it.”

She stretched and retrieved a blue-and-gray striped box on the shelf above the hanging garments. “And what do I tell him?”

“You tell him that it was a gift from your husband, and play it like it’s nothing more than costume jewelry.”

“And what if he wants to buy it?” she countered.

“Then you tell him it’s not for sale.”

“Isn’t that defeating the purpose of luring him?”

“No. He’ll pursue his interest in the necklace,” he said, confident of that. Turning, he found himself so close to Paige all he had to do was take half a step, lower his head, and he’d be able to kiss her like he’d been wanting to all day. Except he knew he’d never be able to stop at just one taste, and he knew she wasn’t ready to accept the full brunt of his feelings for her. At least not in the light of day.

With a harsh sigh, he dropped to his knees on the floor, examining the molding around the base and checking the wall for any cutouts. “Our main goal is to get on Carranza’s turf, which shouldn’t be too difficult. He’ll want to confiscate the necklace on his territory, surrounded and protected by his own people. It’s what we want, too, since we have our own plants who can arrest Carranza when everything goes down.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

He glanced up, meeting her gaze, seeing her need for a reassurance he had no right to give. “No, it’s not simple, Paige,” he said honestly. “It’s dangerous and it’s risky, but I’ll guarantee that you’ll be protected in every way possible. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Irritation flashed across her features and stretched her mouth into a grim line. “You can’t make those kind of promises, so don’t.” She turned her back to him and proceeded to search through the drawers built into the closet.

In frustration, he blew out a stream of breath, hating the tension vibrating between them. She was right, he couldn’t make promises of immortality. He didn’t have that kind of direct link to the big man upstairs. In truth, he had no way of predicting which way the chips would fall, and a part of him acknowledged that, with Paige’s life at stake, he was nervous as hell about the outcome of this sting. He could only speculate how Carranza would react to the situation, could only hope his sources knew Carranza as well as they believed. It was like engaging in an intricate chess game with a master player, trying to think ahead and outsmart your opponent before making the slightest move.

And in order to think straight enough to counter any move Carranza or his men made, he had to keep his feelings for Paige, and his worry for her, secondary to his survival instincts.

As he put that important thought foremost in his mind, his fingers brushed over the frayed ends of the carpet. He frowned, then followed the ragged edge along the molding to the corner of the closet. The carpet wasn’t tacked down as it should have been. Too easily, he stripped the piece back and found himself staring at a flat metal lid flush with the concrete foundation.

“I’ll be damned,” he muttered.

Paige knelt beside him. “What is it?” Her voice was as excited and eager as he felt.