Once a Thief - Softcover

Buch 1 von 2: Quinn

Hooper, Kay

 
9780553590241: Once a Thief
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0553590243 ISBN 13: 9780553590241
Verlag: Bantam, 2007

Inhaltsangabe

With a priceless collection at stake...Is everything for the taking?

It had taken centuries for Max Bannister’s family to acquire their treasures, and now he’s been asked to risk his collection as bait for a master criminal. For his own reasons, Max allows a public exhibition, and to protect the family fortune he must rely on the skills of his half brother—a world-class security expert—and his smart and savvy exhibit director, Morgan West.

But almost immediately, Morgan comes face-to-face with the mysterious Quinn, Interpol’s most wanted thief for the past decade—and a man who makes it very clear he has an eye on the Bannister collection. And if that’s not enough, Morgan begins to realize that she’s surrounded by secrets and lies, and that someone very close to Max is moving behind the scenes, intent on murder as well as robbery...someone whose ultimate plan threatens to ruin them all.

Die Inhaltsangabe kann sich auf eine andere Ausgabe dieses Titels beziehen.

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Kay Hooper, who has more than six million copies of her books in print worldwide, has won numerous awards and high praise for her novels. Kay lives in North Carolina, where she is currently working on her next novel.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Chapter One


“Somebody ought to put her in one of the display cases. Talk about an eye-poppin' show."

Morgan West stopped in her tracks to lift an eyebrow at a suddenly flustered workman. "Voices carry in museums," she said gently. "You might want to keep that in mind."

"Yeah. I mean--yes, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am. No offense meant."

"None taken. It's always been my ambition to be a museum display."

He cleared his throat. "Priceless things. That's all I meant. Treasures. Works of art." He eyed her, then sighed. "I'm not gonna win, am I?"

"No, I'm afraid not."

"I'm a sexist pig."

"Pretty much."

"Objectifying women."

"This woman anyway. Yes, I'd say that was what you were doing."

"I apologize, Miss West."

Perfectly aware that the other workmen near enough to overhear this exchange were hiding grins, Morgan knew when it was time to let her prey off the hook on which he'd impaled himself. "Accepted. Have a nice day."

"Yes, ma'am. You too."

Morgan strolled away, knowing that laughter would erupt the moment she was out of sight. Which it did.

She sighed.

Her measurements had been causing her problems since her thirteenth birthday, so by now she should have been at least somewhat accustomed to it.

She wasn't.

There were men who admitted that long, shapely female legs inspired amorous fantasies; there were those who had the same basic response to the rich curves of swaying hips. But men whose primitive instincts were aroused by an ample bust, Morgan had found, undoubtedly outnumbered the rest.

Probably something Freudian about it.

Or something infantile.

At any rate, her centerfold measurements had caused her more trouble than joy. A lot more. Her dates during high school and college had been so entranced by her charms, she often wondered if they knew what her face looked like. Even the Rhodes scholar she'd briefly gone out with--hoping his mind was on a higher plane--had stuttered dreadfully whenever his gaze strayed to her chest.

Which was often.

And that explained one reason why Maxim Bannister had won her intense and total loyalty. He had, to be sure, gulped visibly when she'd first walked into his office, but he had also conducted the hour-long interview without allowing his gaze to stray to her chest--and without making her feel it required all his concentration to avoid staring. And since that time, he had managed not only to make her feel completely comfortable in his presence but had even responded with genuine sympathy when a particularly degrading experience with a date had caused her to unburden herself in an explosion of temper.

She liked Max a lot. He was one of the very few male friends she'd ever had, and she was delighted by the knowledge that, while he was no less appreciative of nature's bounty than the next man, his awareness and interest were detached rather than hormonal. He also had an unerring eye for color and style, and during the months of preparation for the Mysteries Past exhibit, she had gradually abandoned her dark-colored, loose blouses and multilayered outfits in favor of more elegant and flattering clothing.

When Max told her she looked good in something, she knew it was the truth. He'd said once that she was a queenly woman, the observation made in an assessing rather than complimentary tone, and Morgan had, quite unconsciously, begun walking without the slump she had just as unconsciously adopted in her teens. In a few short months, he had very quietly and gently and unobtrusively eradicated both Morgan's bitterness and the chip on her shoulder. Thanks to him, she was as proud of her body as she was of her mind.

Well, nearly.

Which wasn't to say it no longer caused her problems. In fact, masculine appreciation of her measurements was, indirectly, to blame for a predicament that was destined to occupy her for quite some time.

But on this mild Thursday afternoon, Morgan was blessedly unaware of the storm clouds building up on her own personal horizon. As the director of the forthcoming Mysteries Past exhibit, her mind was entirely focused on business.

"You're frowning," Wolfe Nickerson noted when they encountered each other in the lobby. He was the security expert Lloyd's of London had sent to oversee both the preparations for the exhibit and the two-month showing itself.

"I'm not surprised. Do you believe in intuition?" she asked.

"I've been known to get a hunch now and then. Why? Are you feeling intuitive?"

"Yeah. At least--I guess that's what it is. There's something out of focus, Wolfe. Something not right."

"With the preparations for the exhibit?"

"I don't know. Maybe." She sighed. "God, I hate it when I get one of these feelings. It's like I saw something out of the corner of my eye, you know? Something I didn't look at as closely as I should have."

Wolfe nodded. "Yeah, I've been there. But you know as well as I do that it's pretty much impossible to guard against a threat when all you've got to go on is a feeling. We're doing everything we can to protect the collection."

"Maybe not everything. Would pulling up the drawbridge and flooding the moat be out of order?"

"Well, it might make things a bit difficult for visitors."

Morgan hugged her ever-present clipboard and rested her chin on the top, matching his gravity when she said, "Yeah, but do we really need visitors? They come, they gawk--big deal."

Smiling, Wolfe said, "You really are bothered, aren't you?"

"A little bit, yeah."

"But there's nothing here yet to steal, remember? I mean, none of the collection. All those nice display cases the workmen are building are going to be empty for weeks yet."

"I know, I know."

"But?"

"But . . . something's wrong." Morgan shook her head with a faint grimace. "The place just doesn't feel right. I did a walk-through a little while ago, and I could swear I was being watched."

Wolfe eyed her, a little amused. "Well, you usually are."

"No, not that way." Morgan was intent on making sense of her own feelings and hunches. "Watched. Almost . . . I was going to say stalked, but I don't mean it in the modern way, with some half-crazed guy who thinks he's in love with me dogging my every step."

"How do you mean it, then?"

"More of a . . . predatory thing. As if I was being tracked, shadowed, my strengths and weaknesses sized up."

Wolfe's eyebrows rose, but more in surprise than disbelief. "That's a fairly primitive image. And a very specific threat to feel intuitively."

"I know. That's why it's creeping me out, big time."

He frowned. "All right, Morgan. I'll have the extra guards do a sweep of the building at the beginning of each shift, as well as halfway through the shift. Good enough?"

"I hope so." She shook her head again, obviously annoyed by worries too elusive to put into words, then added, "I'll be in my office. I'm going to go study the museum blueprints again."

"Listen," Wolfe said, "don't let the responsibility of being in charge while Max is off on his honeymoon blow anything out of proportion, okay? Whether you're right about somebody watching you or the preparations for the exhibit, the collection is safe and we are doing everything possible to make damned sure it stays that way."

Morgan squared...

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Verlag
Bantam
Erscheinungsdatum
2007
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0553590243
ISBN 13 
9780553590241
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
352
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
Nicht verfügbar

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Softcover