Red Stone of Passion Page 2

  * * * *

  Ishmael Evans was in a bad mood and unfortunately he couldn’t take it out on the source. Instead, he lounged in the supple leather chair he had been directed to as if he was a child and imagined all the things he would do to the bastard had the other man not been paying him so much money. With a carefully crafted expression of concern he regarded the man that sat across from him.

  “You believe your niece is in trouble, but you don’t know what kind of trouble.”

  “No, I want you to find out what exactly is going on,” Robert Ruben replied.

  “Exactly what makes you think something is wrong?”

  Ruben stood and paced the length of the tiny office. Ishmael watched the man make his way across the room four times before he finally turned to him.

  “She doesn’t pick up her phone. She’s out all times of the night.”

  “She sounds like a normal college student,” Ishmael said softy. What he really wanted to do was roll his eyes. Another paranoid patriarch, he thought as he looked over the Minister of Finance. Nothing the man had said made him think this was a case for his agency, let alone something that required his specific expertise.

  “There’s one other thing. Every time I ask her where she’s been she says she was at the museum.”

  “Okay?” Ishmael said. He was unable to hide his irritation. The museum wasn’t exactly a drug infused rave. The minister had yet to give him an actual reason to check up on his niece.

  Not that he wasn’t going to take the job. Fifty grand for babysitting was more than fine with him.

  Maybe his luck was changing. He had been on one bad mission after another, each one ending worse than the last. He grimaced as he thought of the last three days he’d spent in London, trying to track down an heirloom choker.

  Fortunately, the necklace had been retrieved.

  Unfortunately, he’d been forced to explain the jewel thief’s dead body to the officials.

  Probably not going back to London anytime soon. But that was then, this is now, Ishmael thought as he focused on the man before him.

  “She hates the museum. She’s a graduate student at the School of Fashion. I didn’t understand it, so I did some research. All of the museums she’s been to since travelling to Europe have exhibitions on precious stones.”

  Ishmael settled deeper into seat. It was doing remarkable things for his back muscles. The flight across the pond had been painful. Six hours spent shoved into a coach seat was hell when one was six feet five inches. He hadn’t flashed into the country because of the uncertainty of the landing. Not that the plane had landed very easily.

  Ishmael was one of a few living porter wolfs, werewolves with the ability to teleport. “So that’s why you came to the reformed gem thief.”

  “Yes. I don’t want to believe it’s true, but I believe Riana and her friends have something to do with the rash of thefts at the museums.”

  “If, and I say if very tentatively, if what you say is true, I’m not exactly the one you should be calling.”

  “You’re a private investigator.”

  “Yes, but…”

  “And your speciality is gemstones,” Ruben said with a raised eyebrow that dared Ishmael to deny the truth.

  “Yes,” Ishmael responded reluctantly.

  “I want you to investigate the Garland Garnet and if you do find anything that implicates my niece, I want you to make sure that it’s taken care of. She must never be charged. The police nationale must never even consider her.”

  Ishmael grimaced. His luck wasn’t changing. He should have known the minister was going to be trouble when he told him how much he was willing to pay for Ishmael’s services.

  Ruben leaned forward and pulled the discreet leather briefcase he had brought with him onto his lap. Ishmael eyed it reluctantly, half fearful of what the determined man would pull out of it.

  Should it ever come to physical violence, Ishmael knew he was fully equipped to handle the minister. He was a wolf and his potential opponent was human. There was no contest.

  But it wasn’t a struggle he feared.

  Humans made up for their lack of physical strength with cunning. And wolves didn’t like being backed into corners.

  A dangerous combination.

  Ruben snapped the case open and pulled out a slim manila envelope. He placed it lightly on the desk.

  Ishmael glanced at the other papers before picking up the envelope and slowly sliding out the single sheet. He stared down at the face that looked back at him as a shocking feeling akin to being sucker punched shot through him.

  “Who is she?” he asked automatically, even though his wolf was already growling the answer. Mine!

  The woman was striking. Her skin was rich, a dark, heavenly colour that reminded him of the sweetest milk chocolate. Flyaway strands of glossy, midnight hair covered what appeared to be a high forehead and partially masked her large, almond eyes. Her cheekbones were wide, slightly blunt, aiding to her face’s distinctive heart shape. And her mouth was wide with full, almost pouty lips.

  She was no conventional beauty, but there was something about her face that pulled at Ishmael, told him she belonged to him. He tried to ignore the unreasonable feeling, but there was no denying it. His inner wolf wanted her, needed her, and was sure she was the mate he had been searching his whole life for.

  It made no sense. Absolutely none. His father had warned him that a wolf zeroed in on his mate at first scent. He had never said anything about the mating call striking at first sight.

  The minister sighed, a wealth of emotion in the sound. From the sound of the other man’s sigh, the woman smirking up at Ishmael was a lot to handle. She had been capable of exhausting the indomitable Robert Ruben. “My niece, Riana. She’s a very beautiful girl, isn’t she?” Ruben said, his voice gaining strength with the last few words.

  Ishmael slowly lifted his head to find the other man watching him. Pride glowed in his dark eyes. Ishmael realised then that Riana was more than just a niece to Ruben.

  “Although my wife didn’t bear her, she is my firstborn, as much my child as my others.” The minister had raised the dark beauty.

  “Why are you showing me this?” he asked calmly and lifted the eight by ten glossy photo for emphasis. Keeping his voice neutral was the hardest thing Ishmael had ever done, but he managed it. All he really wanted to do was demand where the woman in the picture was and how soon he could find her and make her his woman.

  “Because I want you to take her out. How does tomorrow sound?”

  Chapter Three

  Girl + Boy

  For the millionth time that night Riana asked herself why she had bothered to go out with her girlfriends hours before a job. It was their routine, but lately it had gotten monotonous. She pretended to be interested in her girlfriends. They pretended to want to talk to her more than the endless parade of guys that hit on them.

  Riana grimaced and admitted the truth.

  Girls’ night out was no longer fun because she was the only one who didn’t get hit on. She tried not to feel like the “ugly friend”, but it was difficult when she received little to no attention. There had been a time when she looked forward to seeing a guy make his way to their table. Now she just cringed, waiting for the guy to hit on either Annemarie or Celeste. Part of the fun of being with the girls was the ability to tell the boys off using the whole “girls stick together” line.

  Stupid men! They ruined everything.

  She turned to tell Annemarie that she was going to call it a night when he caught her eye.

  Holy Mother of God!

  They sure did grow them big in France. At least that one, she thought with a smirk as she turned back to her drink. She took a sip and moved her seat just the slightest bit so she could keep him in her line of sight.

  Girls’ night out just got a whole lot more interesting.

  She watched him from beneath her lashes, drinking in his large, hard body, muscles that attested to physical st
rength, and a handsome face that elicited thoughts of determination and integrity.

  He was absolutely beautiful with pale, almost white shoulder-length blond hair, deep blue eyes, a high forehead, and honey blond slashing eyebrows, a sharp aquiline nose. Sharp cheekbones that any model would have killed for and the most lush set of lips Riana had ever seen softened his hard, masculine features.

  “Somebody’s found something interesting.”

  Riana smiled at Celeste’s softly uttered words. She started to turn to her friend but he moved and captured her gaze. Her belly muscles fluttered and heat infused her system as the fire in his vivid, sapphire gaze caressed her. His eyes swept over her from head to toe. His gaze returned to hers and he smiled.

  She turned away but there was no denying the answering flutter in her belly or the pool of desire that filled her sex. The guy was potent like 150 proof alcohol straight to the head. She bit her lip and focused on Annemarie. Unfortunately her actions did not go unnoticed.

  “Come on, Riana, don’t tell me you’re not interested.” Celeste whispered wickedly.

  Riana turned to her best friend and winked. “We both know I don’t play with sharp things.”

  Celeste glanced over her head and smiled. “I suppose it’s a good thing he does.” Before Riana could respond to Celeste’s reference to Riana’s tendency to cut a man down to size with her sharp words, Celeste and Annemarie stood and walked away.

  “Hmmm, I think I like your friends.”

  Riana shivered as the bass tone of his voice rumbled down her spine. Rough and accented, his speech caressed her senses, sending tremors through her body. Strong hands with long fingers grasped the chair in front of her. Riana immediately imagined his determined creamy hands on her darker flesh. Her eyes lifted to gaze into his eyes as he took the seat Celeste had just vacated. He gave her a slow smile that promised wicked, intimate nights and softly murmured, “Hello.”

  “Hi,” she croaked out, suddenly shy. Even on her best day, the man in front of her was way out of her league. He leaned across the small table that separated them. “May I ask what your name is?”

  She gave him a tentative smile. “That depends on if you tell me yours?”

  He chuckled. The sound was rough gravel mixed with cream. It was unlike anything she had ever heard. The alien nature punctured something deep and unyielding within the folds of her sex. Riana barely stifled the urge to squirm in her seat, she was so hot for the man sitting across from her.

  “My name is Blaze.”

  She raised an eyebrow. Great! Big and Blond didn’t think she was worthy of an actual name. Two could play that game. “My name is Kitty,” she replied giving him the nickname Celeste had gifted her with.

  He gave her a slow, smouldering smile that told he knew she wasn’t telling the truth. He shrugged one muscular shoulder and leaned forward. “Tell me, Kitty, where are you from?”

  “America.”

  His smile widened. “I gathered that from your accent. Where in America?”

  Under the table, away from his penetrating gaze she gripped the chair as every word he murmured wrapped around her before settling in her sex. The man shouldn’t have such a strong effect on her. It was like he had flipped the “on” switch for her libido. Riana chewed her lip and considered just how intelligent it would be to even consider a man like Blaze.

  “You shouldn’t have to think about it…that is, if you are telling the truth.”

  She leaned back in her seat and gave him a wicked smile. He was sharp, sensing her silence for what it was. Caution.

  He clearly didn’t want her to think about what was going on between them. What could be going on between them.

  A very dangerous man.

  Oooh, Mama like.

  She relaxed, grabbed her drink, and took a quick sip. She was suddenly parched. “You would have to think about it if you’ve lived in as many places as I have.”

  “Military or political?”

  Hmmm, was she lucky enough to be an army brat or a globe-trotting politician’s child? Before their death, her parents had travelled constantly because her father was a Marine. Following their death, she’d lived with her Uncle Ruben, the Minister of Finance. For the last ten years it had been just the two of them. “I’m a little of both.”

  “So are you here for business or pleasure?”

  She smiled. “A little of both. I’m doing a graduate study abroad program.”

  One eyebrow lifted in surprise. “Brains and beauty? What are the chances?”

  She flashed him a smile and took another sip of her drink. “Thank you.”

  When did her virgin drink become alcoholic or was Blaze going straight to her head? He wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary. At least not if one didn’t count the very fact that he was hitting on her, yet, she felt as though something special, something highly intoxicating was simmering between them. It was unnerving and exciting at the very same time.

  “How long will you be in area, little Kitty Kat?”

  Little Kitty Kat and with that soft, but husky tone and his accent…Damn, it sounded dirty. She mentally moaned. It sounded like the kind of thing you said to a girl while between her thighs. Lord, was she hot.

  Riana toyed with her straw, using her tongue to twirl the plastic. Blaze’s gaze latched onto it and the colour of his sapphire eyes deepened to indigo. The blue fire in his gaze was scalding.

  “Long enough,” she whispered softly before leaning low and wrapping her lips around her straw. She swallowed the rest of her drink.

  “Good to know.” Two fingers lifted in the air. He took the empty glass and placed it on the waitress’s platter just as she walked past them. She lifted her eyebrows in surprise as two colas appeared on the table between them.

  “I’m thinking that will give me you just enough time to show the best Paris has to offer.”

  “I think I’ve already found the best,” she whispered as she grabbed her new drink.

  His answering smile promised so much, Riana felt her sex tighten with arousal. Suddenly thirsty, she took several sips of her drink. She could feel his hot sapphire eyes on every inch of her face. It was unnerving to say the least.

  After a moment, she looked up and caught his gaze. He held out his hand. “Come, let’s dance.” It wasn’t so much a question as it was a demand. She stood as he pulled out her chair and followed him onto the small dance floor.

  Loud French rap music blared in the air, scintillating rhythms pulsed around them, and there were the endless couples bumping and grinding on the dance floor. Riana looked around them for a place to stand, let alone dance. Blaze had that covered. The crowd parted almost the moment he stepped onto the raised floor. He threw one arm out and gathered her close. She gasped as his body moulded to hers, strong, corded muscles against soft, supplicant flesh.

  “Perfect,” he murmured softly, his voice dark and deep, as he fitted his hips to hers. Fingers of passion danced down her spine. Heat blossomed in her veins and desire like none she had ever felt threatened to overwhelm her.

  The music changed, couples shifted around them, but they kept dancing. After an eternity he leaned low and brushed his full lips against the shell of her ear. Scalding lightning flashed from her ear to her pussy. She tried to take a step back away from Blaze, away from the passionate responses he evoked. One broad palm landed on her backside, clutching one rounded cheek and pushed her hard against him. She blushed when she felt his erection. There was no denying his attraction to her.

  “Blaze!” she gasped out in shock and fear. The emotions he elicited in her were more than just passionate. There was a level of emotional attachment that tinged the waves flowing inside her. Something that she couldn’t explain, but was determined to deny.

  It was the last thing she wanted or needed.

  Stop it, she mentally chastised herself as she started to think about what it would be like to feel his arms around her again. In the morning…after a long night spent between her blac
k silk sheets.

  But she was not a one-night stand kind of girl. Plus, she couldn’t spend the night with him even if she wanted. She had a mission to complete. Until then, she couldn’t think of herself or the things that could not be. Riana closed her eyes, leaned into his strong arms and accepted the pleasure Blaze’s touch gave for the time being.

  Chapter Four

  Two for Two

  Riana stared at her uncle in utter horror. “You did what?”

  “Stop yelling, Riana. It’s not proper. No wonder you’re not married. I myself have half a mind to turn and run and I’m family.”

  She glared at her favourite uncle and considered the possibility of murder. “What made you think it was okay to set me up on a date?”

  Two nights before, she and the girls had celebrated their successful repossession of the Waters gemstone. It was not yet time to transfer the rock to Waters. Until then, she and the girls had time to enjoy the Parisian nightlife. As she had two nights ago when she met Blaze, a very handsome blond. She was still trying to recuperate from the experience, and now she was being forced to meet another guy. But this time on a blind date.

  Uncle Bobbie grabbed something from the top of her kitchen counter and threw it at her. “He will be here in…” He glanced at his watch. “Thirty minutes. I suggest you dress quickly and read up.”

  “Thirty minutes!” she shrieked as her eyes widened. “You expect me to get dressed and read in thirty minutes. It takes me thirty minutes to do my hair.”

  He shrugged. “Open the file,” he said with a soft smile. Her glare hardened. She didn’t like the look in his eyes. But as much as she hated to admit it, she was curious. Uncle Bobbie was the one member of her family who wasn’t trying to get her married as soon as possible. The guy had to be something special for her very overprotective uncle to want her to meet him. She dug into the envelope and pulled out an eight by eleven portrait.