the sensitive skin of her wrist. She could feel the heat and the strength practically pouring out of him. She knew she should probably pull away…but she didn’t.
“The point is you need someone you can trust.”
Sara arched a brow. “And that’s you?”
“You could do worse.”
Yeah, she could. But that wasn’t the point. Unfortunately, Malcolm wasn’t grading her performance on a curve. Either she brought him l’étoile and paid the price he demanded, or…
No. She refused to go down that path. It was better to focus on what was right in front of her.
“And why are you so desperate to jump into this mess?” she asked. “What’s your angle?”
“No angle,” he said.
“Right.” Sara smirked. “There happens to be a priceless two hundred and fifty-year-old necklace floating around the city, and you just want to help me free my parents out of the goodness of your heart.”
“Pretty much.” He nodded. “Is that so hard to believe?”
“Actually, it is.”
He was ballsy. She had to give him that. Everyone else she knew would be switching tactics right about now, desperate to find their way in. But not him. Every move he made only fascinated her more.
“All right. I’ll bite,” she said after a long moment passed. “How exactly are you planning on helping me?”
He moved in closer and lowered his voice. In a flash, intensity replaced the humor in his gaze.
“We have a hell of a team at Macmillan Security,” he said. “Lots of different talents. Put us all together and there isn’t a problem that we can’t solve. If you trust us—”
“You’re joking, right?” she cut him off. She didn’t need to hear another word.
“No.”
“Then you must have lost your mind.” Sara pushed back her stool, snatching her hand out from under Mason’s as she stood. “You saw what Malcolm did when you forced yourself into his game. How the hell do you think he’s going to react if you bring a whole team of people in?”
Mason straightened to his full height. “He won’t even know they’re involved.”
Sara closed her eyes and lifted her hands to the side of her face. She rubbed at her temples, but the pounding didn’t ease.
“Of course, he will.” Her voice came out sharp through gritted teeth. She forced herself to open her eyes and draw in a steadying breath. “You have no idea who you’re up against, do you?”
“So, tell me.”
“You can’t charm Malcolm Van Zandt. You can’t con him. And you sure as hell can’t steal from him,” she said. “So, unless you’re hiding some amazing talents from me, that means we can’t win.”
A wry smile lifted his lips. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve heard different versions of that speech?”
Sara slowly shook her head. He was a cocky bastard. And a damned stupid one.
“I don’t. And I don’t care.” She drew in a deep breath and dragged her hand through her hair, smoothing it out. “All I know is that if this goes sour, then I’m going to have more blood on my hands than I can handle. The last thing I need is to throw you and your friends on top of that.”
She took a step back from the table.
“Sara, wait,” Mason said, but he didn’t make a move toward her.
“I’m sorry, Mason. Your fifteen minutes is up.”
Sara drew in a deep breath as she spun around on her heel and headed straight for the back door. She let it out slowly when she didn’t hear his footsteps behind her. Well, at least Mason was true to his word.
He was letting her walk away. Letting her hunt down the Evening Star by herself. Letting her take on the responsibility of facing Malcolm on her own.
That’s how it was supposed to be.
She pressed on the bar that ran across the middle of the door and pushed it open. The chill night air rushed in, stinging her cheeks. She welcomed the sensation as she strode into the alleyway. Every step she took echoed off the high, hard walls surrounding her.
Maybe the cold would help her clear her