then back to the ID again.
“As you can see, the police are already here,” he said, no longer able to try to jiggle the information gently out of a seemingly innocent conversation with her. “Now, why don’t you tell nice Special Agent O’Dea what you’ve done with your pot of leprechaun’s gold?”
CHAPTER THREE
“Julia, this could only happen to you.”
Her shoulders tightened in defense at Craig’s teasing. “What?”
“Only you could go along innocently pursuing your simple quest to rescue each and every single lost soul you ever happen to come across—” he wrinkled his nose and lowered his voice, “—and end up with Double-O-Seven rifling through your office safe.”
“I’m with Interpol, not Her Majesty’s Secret Service,” came the deep, Irish-accented voice from inside the half-open closet.
“He’s with Interpol.” Julia echoed Cameron’s correction. Her swivel chair groaned as she leaned away from her desk, trying to see how far Cameron had gotten in accounting for all the gold coins.
“Interpol. M16.” Craig overplayed a shrug. “What’s the difference?”
Cameron stood and turned. He braced his forearm against the open closet door and fixed a hard gaze on Craig. “One is a multinational cooperative of police agencies targeting international criminal activity, the other is a work of fiction.”
“Which is which?” Craig deadpanned.
“Craig!” They were in enough trouble without her assistant antagonizing the man sent to deal with them. She drew a deep breath then glanced at Cameron, forcing a humorless chuckle up from her clenched chest. She’d thought him a powerful man the first moment she’d laid eyes on him. Open and approachable, but capable of taking care of himself, his business, and anyone else who needed it. Now that she knew more about him, her estimation had grown. But so had her apprehensions.
She raised her eyes to the imposing figure standing framed in the doorway. “I’m sorry, Craig wasn’t trying to make fun of you or your work.”
“Fun? Maybe not. But you don’t need to be making any apologies for him not being won over by my charms too willingly, lovely Miss Reed.” Cameron’s features softened he moved toward her until he had lowered his head and his mouth was inches from her ear. His voice came low and intimate, as if sharing a secret with an old friend. “You see, while you’re trying to do the work of a hundred angels, your assistant is trying to do the work of only one… your guardian angel.”
“Look, Blarney Bill, don’t start any rumors going around about Julia and me.” Craig bristled, his bony shoulders taut. He dragged his fingers back through his hair. “I have a girlfriend, thank you very much. I’m just looking out for Julia.”
Cameron’s compelling green eyes shifted to meet the narrowed gaze of her assistant. Cameron tipped his head, acknowledging Craig’s behavior, perhaps even admiring it. “As well you should. You’ve already had one mishap with a counterfeit police officer. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice—”
“And bang, you’re dead.” Craig wound his arms over his chest. “That’s how serious this is, isn’t it, O’Dea?”
Julia stiffened. Cameron soothed her jangled nerves with a single, focused glance. “You’re safe with me, Miss Reed. Let me assure you of that.”
“But for how long?” Craig stubbed the toe of his shoe against the desk leg. “People have done some pretty awful things for a lot less than what’s in that safe. When this Shaughnessy comes looking for Julia, it won’t be to dance a little jig”
“He’s already taken your nephew.” Emotion made Julia’s usually strong voice fade to a faraway whisper. Cameron had told her the quick story of how he had taken a leave of absence from his work to try to find the gold once and for all. When he and his twelve-year-old nephew had followed a very improbable clue, they