License to Thrill

Prologue

    Surrey, England

    "JAMES, DARLING, I knew you would come." The stunning blonde set a champagne glass on a small marble table and gracefully rose to her feet.
    James Donovan strolled into Lady Tania Mercer's sitting room and lowered a friendly kiss onto her raised red mouth. "I've never been able to refuse you, Tania."
    "Almost never," she corrected him, then smiled languidly. "I'm afraid this favor will be a bit more arduous than a night in my bed, James."
    His mouth quirked. "My lady, I doubt if even the British government could manufacture an assignment that demanding."
    Tania scoffed prettily and offered him a drink. While she mixed him a martini, James studied his former lover. Their brief affair had ended more than five years ago, before he retired from the British Secret Service. Tania had been a pleasant diversion from his unpredictable and often dangerous job. She'd wanted more than he could offer her, more than he could offer any woman, but they'd parted on congenial terms.
    Lady Mercer moved in interesting circles and always had her finger in mysterious pies, so whatever the "favor," he had a feeling it would be more entertaining than hunting and gaming on his estate, which had grown tiresome. "I have to admit your invitation has piqued my curiosity."
    She handed him his drink and laughed, a tinkling sound. "I figured after six months of inactivity, you might be getting restless."
    James pursed his lips to suppress a smile. "I haven't been completely immobile."
    She raised a finely arched brow. "I was referring to your daytime activities, James."
    He raised his glass toward her. "You know me well, Tania."
    She inclined her head in agreement, touching her glass to his before taking a sip. "What would you say to a business trip to the States?"
    He angled his head, surprised. "I've actually been toying with the idea of an extended holiday in New York City."
    "Unfortunately, this job would take you to the West Coast, to San Francisco."
    Nodding agreeably, he said, "I can combine the trips. What exactly did you have in mind?"
    She swirled the liquid in her glass and shrugged. "It's really quite mundane compared to your usual exploits, I'm sure, but I need an armed guard to accompany a courier and a piece of art to a museum there."
    "Are you dabbling in fine arts now?"
    "It's a letter, actually. A very old letter which recently came into my possession. I have reason to believe it is extremely valuable."
    "It sounds like a simple enough job. Why do you need me?"
    Her mouth formed a lovely pout. "I need someone I can trust, and to be honest, I'd hoped we might be able to pick up where we left off once you returned."
    But James's mind was elsewhere. In truth, her request had come at a good time. He'd been asked to consult on a case of improprieties at a London museum, but he’d postponed answering because his knowledge of the industry was so slim. This trip would allow him to pick the brain of a trained courier and perhaps he could offer assistance upon his return from New York.
    Tania stood and slid her hand down the front of his linen shirt. "I could join you in the States once I've settled my affairs here. I love New York this time of the year, and I've missed you, James."
    He accepted her full-body kiss with only a mild stirring, a fact that irritated him. He was obviously losing his edge if he could conjure up so little interest in such a beautiful and skillful lover as Tania.
    Apparently his lackluster response did not go unnoticed. She drew back, a frown marring her perfect brow. "Have you found a serious love interest?"
    "No," he said rather sharply, then laughed. "You forget who you are talking to, my dear."
    She sighed dramatically. "I see you are still enjoying your reputation as untouchable, James."
    "Well," he murmured, dipping his head to hers again, "I wouldn't go quite that far."

Chapter One

    "TESTOSTERONE," KAT MCKRAY said, viciously squeezing a dribble of juice from the lemon wedge into her water glass. "Testosterone is the root of the world's problems."
    "Mmm," her best friend, Denise Womack, agreed as she sipped her tea.
    "Overbearing men, everywhere I turn." Kat pounded her fist on the cafe table. A waiter who had stopped to refill their drinks eyed her warily and moved on. She pushed her wire-rimmed glasses higher on her nose. "If you ask me, hormone therapy would be the surest route to global peace."
    Denise arched an overplucked eyebrow. "Speaking of hormones, Kat, yours are