Page 37 of Sleigh Bells and Snowstorms
When I’d gone over to the jukebox and pretended to look through the songs, I’d imagined myself somewhere else—in a fancy hotel or a swanky party, like a scene from a spy movie. Then I’d turned to see Jensen watching me with that hint of a smirk on his lips and almost blushed with pleasure.
I needed to be careful or I was going to get carried away. I wasn’t a spy. I wasn’t a private detective or a thief hunter or whatever Jensen called himself. I was an ED nurse on strike, struggling to make ends meet right before Christmas.
Still, it had been fun. And where was the harm in that?
Jensen cast a glance at me as he drove, and the corner of his mouth lifted. That subtle grin of his was dangerous.
He was dangerous. And not because he chased art thieves for a living.
I turned toward the window, taking a deep breath to clear my head. Every time he looked at me, I felt the same thrill. Like we really were partners on an adventure, not strangers from different worlds.
But we were, and I couldn’t forget that. The last thing I needed was another hotshot in a suit to swoop in and screw up my life. Even if this one did look just as good in a flannel and jeans.
I was not going there. No matter what those dark eyes did to my insides.
“I’d call that a success,” he said. “A man with a pretentious reputation isn’t necessarily our suspect, but it gives us someone to look into.”
“It makes me want to drive by his house and see what they’re talking about with the statues. But I’m not actually sure where he lives.”
“What do you know about this fellow?”
“Not much. I vaguely remember when he moved to town. People were talking about him. He was single, so I think that had a lot to do with it. This place turns into a Jane Austen novel when a single man of means moves into the area.”
“Or when one is visiting and has the audacity to be British.”
“Very true. Your outfit seemed to help. Did you notice a difference?”
“I did. That was good advice.”
I smiled and made the mistake of meeting his eyes. My heart skipped at the intensity in his gaze. It was like he had a dial and knew exactly how to turn up the heat.
He broke eye contact—after all, he was driving—and I looked out the window again.
“So how do we find out if Julian Myers had anything to do with the theft?” I asked.
“I need to meet him.”
An idea popped into my mind. The Snowflake Ball. When was that? It seemed like the sort of thing a guy like Julian might attend. I took out my phone and searched.
“Looking for something?” he asked.
“Yes. The Snowflake Ball. It’s a big charity thing they have every year. All the well-to-do people in Tilikum and the surrounding towns attend. Especially the ones who want everyone to know they’re fancy.”
“Sounds perfect.”
“Here it is. Tuesday night at the Grand Peak Hotel. But I have no idea how to get tickets.” I cast a glance at him. “In case you haven’t figured it out, I’m not one of the fancy people in Tilikum.”
“Don’t worry, darling. I’ll take care of it. Will you text me that link?”
“Sure. But I don’t have your number.”
“That’s an easy fix.”
He gave me his number, and I put him in my contacts, then texted him a link to the event. I was well aware that meant I’d just given himmynumber. And I could tell by the return of his smirk that he’d done it on purpose.
Well, we were working together while he was in town. It made sense for him to have my number.
We turned onto my street, and he parked in front of the house. With my hand on the door handle, I hesitated, oddly reluctant to get out. Once I stepped out of his car, I’d be back in the real world.
