Hunt Me (Love Thieves #3) by Heather Long

Malibu was the first place to come to mind.
    Like a cat, she didn’t let little tumbles upset her. Landing on her proverbial feet, she rallied to his invasion of her plane, to the misguided belief her father sent him, and their flirtation. But duMonde?
    He scared the hell out of her. Jarod wasn’t sure if they were in some type of collusion when he boarded the plane to New York from London, but thirty minutes into their first meeting and he couldn’t see how this self-possessed firecracker with her independent spirit and playful nature could work with a narcissistic psychopath.
    Thankfully, his earlier suspicions proved wrong. But they were involved on some level…insofar as duMonde was after her. Did she steal the Buddha from him?
    Thief.
    The five-cent word didn’t do the million-dollar woman justice. Beyond his suspicions and some circumstantial evidence, he didn’t have any real proof Lady Katherine Hardwicke stole The Fortunate Buddha .
    But she did. I know she did. duMonde suspects the same, and…. She shifted in the seat next to him, and he glanced over to see her eyes open. She covered a yawn.
    “My apologies.”
    “No apology required.” He didn’t resist the urge to touch her thigh again, rubbing his knuckles against her knee lightly, soothing. “It’s been a long night.” Dropping the kernel of information about duMonde in her lap had allowed him to observe her reaction. Her immediate discomfort, no matter how she tried to disguise it, pleased him.
    He didn’t want her in business or bed with duMonde. But the lack of alliance also meant he needed to keep a warier eye out. The game over The Fortunate Buddha continued to escalate. The little gold statue and the promise of good luck it gave to those who rubbed its belly created so much grief in its wake.
    “Jarod.” She sat up, shifting her leg away. He withdrew his hand, albeit reluctantly. “I appreciate everything, but you should drive us to where you are staying and then I’ll leave you to do your business in peace.”
    “I’d rather wait until you’re safely where you need to be.” Particularly since the heiress didn’t travel with a bodyguard. He knew her driver in New York doubled as security, and, in Europe, she often traveled with personal guards. So why shed a layer of protection here unless she wanted to hide her activities?
    “You’re very sweet.” The “but” hung off the end of her sentence like an accessory.
    “But?” He said it for her.
    “But, we just met, and, while I’ve thoroughly enjoyed our time together, it is time to say our good-byes.” Despite the overstatement, he didn’t hear a lie.
    So, how do I play this? Gut reaction: find a way to stick with her. But staying isn’t about the Buddha. It’s about me. Arguably, it was also about protecting her. When duMonde put his hands on her face, all Jarod could see was how swiftly he could have snapped her neck. The French bastard was lucky Jarod hadn’t broken his hand. The instinct to keep her safe ran high and contrary to his primary mission.
    Thief or not, she doesn’t deserve to be shot, beaten, or threatened. He flexed his fingers against the steering wheel. Letting her go to lead him to the Buddha accomplished the goal. Once he took it back, duMonde would have no reason to continue his pursuit.
    As if removing the Buddha from play would stop him.
    It wouldn’t.
    “Jarod?” Concern filtered through the question in her voice.
    “I’m a little worried about the viscount’s intentions.” The key to a good lie rested in layering it in elements of the truth.
    “Louis….” She waved a hand in the air but let go of whatever thread of story she was about to share. “You don’t have to worry about him. Now I’m aware he’s in the area, I can avoid him.”
    “He had two armed men with him, Kit Kat. I don’t think he wants to be avoided.” He controlled his inflections, too pushy and she’d resist. Too blasé and she might not take the threat