“I didn’t think you’d want to come,” she said. “You’ve already seen the exhibit, and we both know you have a much more interesting collection.”

  “My collection only outshines yours because I have more resources than you do.”

  Having money wasn’t everything, but Jillian thought it sure helped. If their mission went wrong, they wouldn’t have to worry about money.

  “You’re certainly welcome to come tomorrow night. I’ll add your name to the list,” she said. “It seems weird to be doing something so normal with all that’s happening.”

  “What’s happening?”

  She raised a brow. “The world could end if we don’t keep the ring safe.”

  “The world’s not going to end.” His blue eyes flashed with an unearthly glow. “Not if I have anything to do with it.”

  At that moment, with a subtle fierceness radiating from him, she believed he truly did have the power to keep the world from ending.

  “Do you really want to come to the opening, or is this another attempt to investigate Jonathon?”

  “Lesson number one, Ms. Whitmore. Know your enemy.” He paused, then glanced her way. “Besides, we’re partners. We do things together.”

  “If we’re partners, can I call you Winston?”

  “Not if you expect me to answer.”

  ***

  The elevator doors opened. Kyriel waited for her to step off the elevator before following the gentle sway of her hips down the hallway. The shorter skirt showed off her long, shapely legs, toned and smoothly shaven. A jolt of desire struck him in the chest like a heavy weight. What he felt for this woman wasn’t simply sexual desire. He needed Jillian, had to have her in every way possible. Only then would he be free of his strange affliction.

  “Where is Jonathon’s office?”

  “This way.” She led him around a corner and stopped at the first door on the left.

  “Dr. Jonathon Crawford,” he read the name on the door. “Owner and co-founder.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Jillian spat as she put the key in the lock. “He didn’t co-found anything. My grandfather created this museum.”

  She threw the door open and light from the hallway poured into the dark, deserted office. Kyriel wanted to get his search over with. He had a nagging feeling. It would have been easy for him to flash in and search the office last night, but he didn’t think there was anything to find. What he’d really wanted was a reason to see Jillian.

  “Come on.” He stepped into the dark office.

  “I’ll check his desk.” She quietly closed the door and set her purse and the gift he’d given her on top of the desk, then rushed around and started pulling out drawers.

  “How do we know what to look for?”

  “You’ll know when you find it.” Kyriel opened a drawer in the filing cabinet.

  He found the employee files, and going to the end of the alphabet, he noticed Jillian’s was missing. Strange, unless she didn’t have one.

  “Oh dear,” Jillian gasped.

  She folded her arms protectively around her waist as she stared down into the bottom desk drawer. Kyriel went right over to see what was inside.

  “That’s nothing.” At her worried look, he added, “Half the people in New York have a gun.”

  What she didn’t know was that human weapons were useless against Kyriel. While they could inflict physical pain, none could kill him. The only way an angel could die was to be killed by another angel. It was the Unforgivable Sin. One could be fallen and have a chance of getting back to Heaven, but if an angel committed the Unforgivable, they would be completely forsaken by God.

  Lost.

  Abandoned.

  “It’s not only the gun,” she spoke in a broken whisper. “He has my employee file.”

  Her eyes flipped up to his, and the worry and fear in their green depths was evident. It mirrored his own misgivings. Kyriel suspected Jonathon was saving Jillian for a special reason. Why wait to get the ring when the man could easily overpower her and take it?

  “Why does he have my file?” Jillian reached down into the drawer.

  Kyriel grasped her wrist. “Leave it.”

  “I don’t like him having my file in his desk.”

  “Neither do I, but it’s too late. He already knows everything about you.”

  “What do you mean?” Jillian twisted her hand, trying to pull out of his grasp, and he tightened his hold.

  “He knows your name, your birthdate, where you live. He works with you all day. I’m sure he knows your habits and routines, maybe even your favorite drink and your shoe size.”

  Her eyes fluttered as she realized the truth. “He could come after me any time he wants.”

  “He won’t.” Kyriel squeezed her arm before letting her go.

  Keeping his secret was getting harder. He wanted to tell her that he was there to protect her, that he could protect her, and why. He’d never been more interested in a woman. Smart, beautiful, curious, he wanted Jillian with a violent lust he couldn’t seem to control, and he knew leaving her in the end wasn’t going to be easy.

  Her troubled gaze dropped back down to the open drawer, to the black gun resting on top of her file, and Kyriel kicked the drawer closed with his new Gucci wingtips.

  Jillian wasn’t the only one he’d gone shopping for last night. He had a long list of things to enjoy before he left. Jillian had taken a place at the top.

  “Shouldn’t we take the gun, or empty the bullets?” she wondered.

  “We don’t want him to know anyone’s been here.”

  Kyriel tensed as a rush of outside emotions came at him. Dark, desperate, hurried. Someone was coming.

  “We have to go.” He crossed the office to the door and held it open.

  “But we didn’t find anything.” Jillian scooped up her purse and the gift box.

  “We found enough. Let’s go, Ms. Whitmore.”

  She rushed out of the office, and after he stood with her in the hallway, she closed and locked the door.

  “Take me to your office,” he told her, rushed. “Now. Hurry.”

  She made her way around the corner, and ran right into Jonathon.

  Chapter 13

  His clever hunches never led him wrong.

  Rounding the corner from his office, Jillian had to stop short to avoid colliding with him, and behind her lurked the troublesome Winston Smith.

  A problem Jonathon planned to deal with.

  “Jonathon!” Jillian pasted on one of her placating smiles. “Hi.”

  Jonathon wasn’t fooled for a moment. The two of them were up to something. Following an odd feeling, the feeling that things weren’t quite as they should be, he’d come into the museum early to see if he could catch what might be amiss and then make some phone calls from his office. It had been a good move on his part.

  “What are you doing here so early?” Jillian asked, catching her breath.

  “I have some calls to make.” He sized up the possible threat in Winston Smith.

  Smith might have been taller, stronger, and younger, but Jonathon had the power of the Illuminati at his command. An intricate network of policemen, congresswomen, FBI, secret ex-patriot mercenaries, all loyal to The Order. Jonathon hadn’t made it to his position by accident. A position of affluence he rather enjoyed. He could wipe Winston Smith—or anyone—out of existence with one phone call.

  “What are you two doing together so early this morning?” At Jillian’s panicked look, he tried to sound concerned when he said, “I hope nothing is wrong.”

  He noticed the way she was dressed. A short black skirt and a low-cut silk blouse. Her hair wasn’t pulled back as tightly as usual, and she was wearing make-up. So out of the ordinary.

  Why the change?

  “We, ah-ah…” Jillian stuttered.

  She couldn’t tell a lie to save her life. It was one of the things he loved about her. The bare honesty.

  “I took Ms. Whitmore out for breakfast,” Winston Smith answered. “We had some things to discuss.”

  Jonathon noticed the wrapped box under her arm next.

  “A gift?” he asked. “Is today special?”

  “It’s from Mr. Smith.”

  “Just a little something to make her feel special,” said Winston Smith, his smile one of faint amusement.

  When he casually put his arm around Jillian’s waist, Jonathon found it hard to maintain a strict control over his anger. How dare the arrogant man encroach on his territory. Only Jonathon knew what Jillian needed. Only he could give her the kind of life she deserved, and he wasn’t about to let Winston Smith come in and take what didn’t belong to him.

  He needed to make that phone call. Just as soon as he discovered what they were up to.

  “Why are you down by my office?”

  “We took the stairs in the fire exit,” Jillian threw in, her voice nervous.

  “Since when do you take the stairs?” Jonathon glared at her, certain she was lying.

  The stairs were not a part of her set, daily routine. Jillian liked the elevator.

  “I challenged her to a bit of a race,” Winston Smith came to her rescue with another lie.

  Giving him a wry smile, she said, “He let me win.”

  Jonathon glared at Winston Smith, filled with loathing.

  He felt like he was losing the upper hand, and he couldn’t allow that to happen. Not this late in the game. It was down to the final hour. They were about to realize the culmination of years of planning and preparation. Jonathon had devoted his life to achieving this level of success and power, and he would let no one get in his way.

  Certainly not a beautiful but neurotic museum curator and a stupid, millionaire playboy.

  “I’m glad to see you have time for fun and games with the opening coming up tomorrow night.” Jonathon had learned to use the museum to direct Jillian’s line of thinking. “You must feel confident in your work.”

  “I do,” she said, staring at him harshly. “I’m very confident.”

  She didn’t make her feelings towards him a secret. Jonathon knew Jillian didn’t like him, but that was only because she didn’t know all he’d done so they could be together. Once she learned how dedicated he was to their future, she’d fall into his arms. It would be a fairytale ending. Nothing less than he deserved.

  “If you’ll excuse us, we have a few more things left to discuss.” Winston Smith placed his hand on Jillian’s back to guide her away.

  It was time to put an end to his meddling.

  “I’ll call your office if I need anything.” Jonathon left them behind as he swung around the corner and headed to his office.

  In the big picture, Winston Smith would only be in their lives for a mere blink of time. Once his plan could be carried out, Jonathon and Jillian would have forever.

  ***

  Jillian was taut, anxious, and fidgety when they got back to her office. She didn’t like how close Jonathon had come to catching them snooping in his office. What would he do?

  Shoot them?

  Mr. Smith didn’t seem the least bit afraid of that particular threat, and that made him the perfect partner. Jillian liked the idea of making it out of this alive.

  “He knows we were snooping around his office.” She went behind her desk and opened the blinds on the window, leaving the slats at a perfect angle.

  Mr. Smith sat in one of the leather chairs in front of her desk. “How would he?”

  “He practically caught us.”

  “He might have his suspicions, but he didn’t catch us.”

  Jillian wanted to tell Mr. Smith he didn’t know Jonathon like she did. He had this odd way of knowing when people weren’t being honest.

  “It was obvious what we were doing,” she said, her eyes drifting to the black box with the red ribbon.

  She was dying to know what was in that enticing, beautifully wrapped box.

  “Obvious would have been getting caught.” Mr. Smith propped his ankle up on the opposite knee and leaned back in the chair, draping one of his arms along the back of it to get comfortable. It was such a masculine, dominating pose, and his strong presence seemed to spread out, overtaking the room.

  Jillian’s heart raced a little faster, her cheeks felt a little warmer, and she thought about kissing him for the thousandth time.

  “How busy are you today?” His blue eyes never wavered.

  “Very busy, the opening is tomorrow.”

  She had to check every detail one final time, then spend the rest of the afternoon worrying about the things she couldn’t control, like leaving someone’s name off the guest list, or bad shellfish giving everyone food poisoning or, worse, no one liking the exhibit. The pieces on loan from Mr. Smith would barely make it into a display on time.

  “I expect you’ve been done with the planning for weeks,” he said. “I need your help today.”

  “My breaking and entering skills aren’t as good as you think. I don’t have a key for Jonathon’s house.”

  “I don’t need a key. I need you to watch Jonathon while I search there.”

  “You’re serious?” Jillian wondered if they weren’t taking things too far.

  “I’m very serious. We have to know why he wants the ring, or if he does in fact have the others.”

  “If he did have the other rings, would he leave them unguarded in his house?”

  “People are easily fooled into a false sense of security when they have technology working for them. You’d be amazed by what I’ve found unprotected.”

  Jillian arched her brow. “Is that what you do for a living? Steal from people?”

  Was he nothing but a common thief?

  Where else did he get his money?

  “I do what needs to be done.” He rose out of the chair, standing tall and imposing before her desk. “This is the end of the world. There are no rules.”

  The thought was so awful she didn’t even want to imagine for a moment they might lose. Unless she did her part to help, the nightmare was in danger of coming true.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Watch Jonathon. If he leaves, call me.”

  It sounded simple enough, yet Jillian knew there were a thousand chances for any part of their plan to go wrong.

  “How long do you think it will take?”

  “It depends on what I find.” Mr. Smith turned to go, but turned back abruptly with a sly smile. “Don’t forget to open your gift.”

  Then he was gone, closing the door behind him.

  Jillian grabbed the box from her desk, undid the bow, and pulled the red ribbon off the box to remove the lid. She tore through the layers of tissue paper and found a black lace bustier and matching panties. Sexy, slinky and, amazingly, he’d gotten her size right.

  So much for keeping things between them professional.

  It was already too late for that.

  Looking at the delicate lace and expensive stitching on the bustier, she admired the gift, but she could never wear something so racy, so revealing. The move would require a daring sexuality she wasn’t brave enough to explore. Lust, passion, and desire were feelings she’d learned to suppress, to deny, and she hated to think how badly her structured life might unravel if she were to set them free.

  Chapter 14

  Jonathon’s house was a gray, stony fortress, protected by the best security system money could buy. Kyriel should know. He had the same system. He disabled the alarm with his powers, killing the infrared motion sensors before he flashed himself into the living room of the three-story house.

  Inside, everything was black and gray. The furnishings and décor were modern, but cold. He could feel no love in the house.

  No emotion whatsoever.

  Very much like its owner. For that reason, Kyriel had a hard time getting a clear read on Jonathon. He didn’t doubt the man was after the rings, but he needed to find proof. First, he needed to know why.

  Then he could act.

  Perhaps Kyriel was no longer a Warrior, and hadn’t been for over two Ages, but he still followed the Angelic Code of the Warrior.

  Harm no innocents.

  He could not strike until he was certain of the sin. Another one of those Unforgivable transgressions.

  None of that would matter if he found the other two rings in Jonathon’s house. He could call Gabriel and be back in the arms of Heaven by noon, once again serving under the glory of God. Earth would only be a memory. The thought should excite him, and instead it weighed him down. Why couldn’t he be an angel and live on Earth?

  Was he ready to leave?

  What about Jillian?

  He could come up with a plan later. First, he’d find the rings.

  Starting upstairs, Kyriel conducted a thorough search of the house. Five bedrooms and six and a half bathrooms. Stainless steel appliances and black counters and cabinets in the kitchen. He found the office downstairs, but no gun in any of the desk drawers. The giant stone fireplace earned his notice, but his was nicer. Bigger.

  On the desk, he spotted a golden ring encased in a block of glass. He picked it up and studied the design etched on front. The All-Seeing Eye.

  Illuminati.

  He should have known. Lucifer’s humans were always behind these world domination schemes. What they didn’t know was Lucifer would enslave them as easily as the rest of mankind. They might be led to the slaughter last, but they would get theirs in the end.

  They always did.

  All he needed now was for Asmodeus to drop in. Finding Jonathon in league with the devil’s flunky would be proof enough for him.

  “I’m touched you think so fondly of me.” Asmodeus appeared on the other side of the desk.

  Dressed all in black, he was dark and definitely the most dangerous of the fallen.

  Kyriel wanted to do them all a favor and send the dark angel on a permanent vacation. He had the powers to do it.

  “What brings you here?”

  “I could feel you thinking about me.” His ugly sneer only added to his malevolence. “That’s the trouble with angels, we feel too much.”

  “Feel?” Kyriel bit out a laugh. “Not you.”