One Hot Winter's Night (2 page)

Cat chewed her lip as she played through a variety of choices in her head. In her career, she’d sometimes gone to great lengths in order to obtain the artefacts she wanted.

In Italy, she’d taken lessons in advanced Latin in order to converse with the head of the National Museum of Rome, who liked to pretend to be Julius Caesar at parties. He’d asked her about her family motto, and when she told him, “
Quantum placui tibi
” (How was it for you?) he’d sold her twice the amount of Roman coins she’d gone there to buy. She’d refrained from pointing out his tiled entrance floor said “
Carpe Canem
” (Seize the dog) instead of “
Cave Canem
” (Beware the dog) until she had the coins in her hand.

Slightly more adventurously, when she’d heard one of the stone pillars at the Neolithic site of Göbekli Tepe in Turkey was up for sale, she’d taught herself how to belly dance in order to woo the chief archaeologist. Stripping down to seven veils and wiggling her hips in public hadn’t come naturally, but she’d done her best. To her frustration, he’d turned out to be German, but the sight of her shaking her chiffon-covered booty had still been enough to convince him to sell her the pillars.

No, she wasn’t averse to going to ridiculous lengths to get what she wanted. But how could she get the necklace off the Silver Fox? Unfortunately, she didn’t know anything about him and had no idea of his weaknesses. She sighed, her breath clouding before her. In the absence of any useful data, she would have to resort once again to her womanly wiles.

She frowned as the sled bumped over the carpet of sparkling snow. It had worked before—there was no reason it wouldn’t work again. God had given her a pleasing enough figure and naturally shiny blonde hair, and thankfully the average man didn’t seem to need more than that to become distracted enough to part with whatever item she had her eye on.

She did have some scruples. When she wanted an item, first she tried bargaining, and attempted to win the seller over with her wit and impress them with her knowledge. And she’d never bought a relic from someone at a ridiculously cheap price because they had no idea of its worth. She would also never take an item from its cultural home if its context remained imperative to a local community. She liked to think she had some standards.

But she had no problem with using the gifts God had given her to get what she wanted. Of course, sometimes it rankled that the size of her breasts and not the letters after her name appeared to interest men the most, but honestly, where was the harm in fluttering her eyelashes or using her feminine charm if it meant she got what she wanted? As the British Museum’s most successful finder of rare artefacts, the role was very precious to her, and she was determined to stay top of the league.

Briefly, she thought of Alexander and imagined the disapproving look that usually appeared on his face when he saw her employing these tactics. The thought made her squirm a little, but she forced her uneasiness away. It wasn’t any of his business. They were her assets to use in whatever way she chose—what did it have to do with him? And anyway, the Silver Fox was the unscrupulous one. The necklace was hers and he’d whisked it from under her nose. He deserved to get what was coming to him.

Chapter 2

Dr Heath Roberts smiled at the waitress as she placed a cocktail in front of him. He stretched out his legs with a contented sigh and sipped the colourful, liqueur-laced vodka. The Absolut Ice Bar was busy, but he’d found a quiet corner to enjoy his drink and admire the surroundings.

Bathed in atmospheric blue lighting, the bar was like no other place he’d been. Carved entirely out of ice like the rest of the hotel, it served its cocktails in ice glasses, and the seating consisted of ice blocks covered in reindeer-fur cushions. It wasn’t exactly the warmest place in the world, measuring at a fresh minus five degrees Celsius, and he wore a thermal shirt and long johns, pants, and two sweaters beneath the thermal silver cloak they’d given him when checking in. But he also had the glow of satisfaction from knowing he’d beaten the Black Cat to yet another precious artefact to keep him warm.

Man, would she be mad when she eventually got to the little log cabin in the woods. He tried to picture her face when she saw the foil animal he’d left with the Swedish woman, but it was difficult when he didn’t know what she looked like. He sipped the cocktail. He’d formed a clear mental picture of his rival based on her devious nature and the fact that she annoyed him: short, plump, and in her late forties, with closely cropped black hair on her head—and under her arms. With a face that could sink ships and a physique that could win arm-wrestling competitions against Arnold Schwarzenegger.

One day they would meet. He didn’t particularly relish the thought. She’d beaten him to relics he’d wanted enough times for this to have become more than a game. Their rivalry had turned into a war, and he had no intention of submitting to the next Attila the Hun.

He looked around the bar. He was the only person on his own, which was a shame, because he felt a distinct need for female companionship. He kind of missed Vanessa, which was saying something considering how surprisingly unaffected he’d been when she finally ended their lukewarm relationship. No, he corrected himself—it wasn’t Vanessa in particular he missed but the feel of a warm body next to his at night. It was two months since they’d shared a bed. So he hadn’t been laid in about…sixty-two days. Roughly translated, he was horny as a tomcat, with no discernible outlet for his pent-up sexual frustration.

He sighed heavily. If he were a less moralistic man, he might have found himself a “professional companion,” but he’d never had to resort to paying for it in the past, and he had too much self-worth to start now.

The other option was a one-night stand.

Heath was rather old-fashioned, and had never slept with a girl on the first night he met her. He liked to wine and dine his partners for a few dates, get to know them a bit better before they made a move to the bedroom. But in his present state of mind, the idea of finding a woman who would be interested in a quick winter fling was strangely appealing.

Sipping his cocktail, he scanned the bar mischievously, wondering if anyone fit the bill. As he’d already observed, however, everyone already seemed to be with a member of the opposite sex or in a group—nobody else appeared to be alone. And anyway, none of the women present took his fancy.
You’re getting picky now you’ve turned thirty
, he scolded himself, sighing as he finished off the drink.

Then his gaze alighted on a woman standing at the far end of the bar ordering a drink. She was tall for a girl, maybe five nine or ten, wearing one of the obligatory silver thermal capes over an amusing blue snowsuit so bulky it gave no clue as to her figure. Like many other people in the bar, she also wore a large fur hat that completely covered her head, but as he watched, she removed it to reveal shiny blonde hair tied in a tight knot at the nape of her neck. Pulling out the pins that secured the knot, she shook her head, and her hair tumbled in golden waves down her back. He raised his eyebrows appreciatively.

The bartender handed her a cocktail, and she smiled her thanks, lighting up a face that, although beautiful, looked fresh and devoid of make-up, with wide, intelligent eyes—hardly the visage of a woman on the pull. Why was she there, alone? On business?

She turned and sat on a bar stool, scanning the room. She wasn’t talking to anyone, and at that moment no guy had zoomed in on her, although it wouldn’t be long, judging by the nudges that some of the guys in a group in the corner were giving each other.

On impulse, Heath stood and, taking his empty glass, walked across the room to lean on the bar beside her.

He ordered another cocktail, aware as he spoke that she’d turned to look at him. He let her study him for a moment, waiting for the drink to arrive, smiled at the bartender, and paid him. Sipping the drink, he finally turned to meet her gaze.

Wow
. She was stunning. Up close, her eyes were a light, almost silvery green, almost reflecting the light like cat’s eyes. She continued to stare at him with surprise.

“Hello,” he said eventually, starting to smile with amusement. “Do I know you?”

“Um, I don’t think so.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and laughed self-consciously. “I’m sorry, I was staring. Your hair’s just so unusual.”

He glanced over at the mirror behind the bar and ran his hand through the silvery-grey strands. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“It’s just that you don’t look that old.”

“It’s hereditary, I’m afraid. My dad and brother are the same. We all turned grey before we turned thirty.”

“Oh, it’s not grey. Grey makes you think of wizened old men and bus passes. Yours is more…silver.”

“Don’t say that.” He rolled his eyes. “With this cape, I’m worried I resemble the robot from
The Day the Earth Stood Still
.”

She grinned and quoted the robot’s famous line from the movie. “And if you start coming out with that, I’ll know it’s time to leave.”

He burst out laughing. “Hey, a girl that likes science fiction. Well, this
is
turning out to be an interesting night.”

She blushed, but her eyes danced. “I’m Julia, by the way.”

“I’m Heath.” He held out a hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

She shook it. “Likewise.” Her hand lingered slightly longer than necessary in his—or had he imagined it? Maybe his sex-tuned brain was fantasizing. Her gorgeous, upper-class, Lara Croft English accent wasn’t helping. It did strange things to his blood pressure.

She sipped her cocktail, looking around the room. “Isn’t it beautiful in here?”

“Yeah. I can’t believe they rebuild it completely every year.”

She ran her hand over the bar, which was constructed from square blocks of ice. Her fingers were long and slender with elegant nails, and he had a vivid image of them skimming over his thigh, closing around him.

He blinked.
Slow down, Joe!
She was probably waiting for someone. Or gay. Or a nun. It was far too early to be thinking of how soft her lips would feel beneath his. Or how large her breasts were under the snowsuit.

He cleared his throat. “Quite a feat of engineering.” He held up his drink. “
Skål
!”

“
Skål
!” she repeated, and they clinked glasses.

He studied her, interested. “So what are you doing here? You’re obviously English—what brings you to this dark part of the world?”

“I’ve just finished university. I’m spending a bit of time travelling.”

“A student of what?” He sipped his cocktail.
Lingerie design, and she wants to show you some of her products? Yoga, and she’d like your assistance with some of the positions? Heath, would you mind helping me carry out some research on sex toys?

She lowered her eyes, embarrassed. “I don’t want to say. You’ll laugh.”

“No, I won’t. I promise.”
Unless it really is the sex toys thing.

She sighed. “Okay. Archaeology.”

He coughed into his drink. Dear God.

“See, I told you. Guys find it a right turn-off, all that history and dead bodies and stuff.”

He wiped his mouth, hoping the blue vodka hadn’t come out of his nose. “Not me. I happen to be an archaeologist too.”

She stared at him. “No! Really?”

He picked up his drink.
Time to take a chance
. “I was sitting over there.” He pointed to the corner. “Would you like to join me, or are you waiting for someone?”

“No, I’m alone.” She slid off the stool. “Sure, that would be nice—it’s awful sitting in a bar on your own. You always worry some nutcase is going to come and chat you up.”

“Well, hopefully I don’t fit into that category.” Smiling, Heath led the way back to his icy seat in the corner, unable to believe his luck. What were the chances? A girl who was an archaeologist
and
into science fiction. Talk about meant to be. This meeting was written in the stars.

He sat on the icy bench and watched her as she slid in beside him, her green eyes glittering in the light from the bar.

Chapter 3

Cat sipped her drink, trying not to smirk at how gullible he was. He looked like a boy who’d discovered he had the biggest box of Lego in the world for Christmas. And it had been so easy! Mind you, the science fiction thing had been pure luck—she happened to like the genre, and
The Day the Earth Stood
Still
was one of her favourites.

She tried not to stare at his silver hair, which shone almost blue in the atmospheric lighting. She’d expected him to be much older, maybe early sixties, haggard and hard. With an evil glint in his eye like a Nazi villain from an Indiana Jones movie.

The reality was completely the opposite. He was young, only a year or two older than she was, probably, and extremely good looking. When he’d finally turned to look at her at the bar he’d taken her breath away. “Hello,” he’d said, and his voice—with a distinctive Antipodean accent—had been deep and gravelly, his hazel eyes providing his face with a warmth that his hair lacked, and they’d been filled with admiration and interest as he studied her.

Since he was wearing the ridiculous silver cape and had several thick layers of clothing underneath, she was unable to get much idea of his physique, but he was tall—really tall, maybe six-three or -four – and she had a sneaky feeling his body probably matched his impressive height.

She sipped her drink, aware of him studying her. She wasn’t used to practising her charms on this sort of man. None of her previous targets had ever made her heart pound in this way. Alarm shot through her, and she was tempted to walk out of the bar. But he’d started speaking, so she made herself sit still, concentrating on the fact that he had the ancient necklace, trying not to think about his good looks.

Chic and sophisticated. That was the key.

She went to lean on the table, missed, and almost fell off the bench.

He caught her. “Oops. You okay?”

“Jeez.” She put her drink on the table and licked the drops of spilled cocktail from her fingers. “I’m fine. This is my first drink of the evening, I swear. I’m just naturally clumsy.” She didn’t miss the way his gaze followed the movements of her tongue. A sensual shiver ran through her, unnerving her. Men often looked at her body with desire, but it had never had this effect on her before.