License to Thrill

in a devastating smile. "At the moment, Ms. McKray, I'm quite charmed, thank you."
    His rich, velvety accent stroked her eardrums. Was there anything more sexy in all the world? His fingers were long and well-shaped, warm and strong. When it seemed he had no intention of releasing her hand, she withdrew it carefully, mindful of the friction between their palms.
    "You've taken us by surprise, gentlemen," she said, rubbing her violated hand and purposely turning her attention to Mr. Muldoon.
    The thin man shifted nervously, then slid his gaze to his companion. "It was Mr. Donovan's idea."
    Feeling like a spectator at a tennis match, she looked back to Mr. Donovan, who was now leaning casually against a table, one hand in the pocket of trousers that looked incredibly wrinkle free considering the arduous flight. The man shrugged. "I thought it would be safer to arrive early in case you had notified a television crew."
    Kat kept her tone cool. "Mr. Donovan, we're not in the habit of inviting news crews to film our security measures." The raising of one thick eyebrow was his only response, so she continued. "While we're on the subject, we should have been notified that a guard was traveling with the letter. Since you share our security concerns, I'm sure you'll understand why we'll need to contact Lady Mercer to verify your credentials."
    His eyes glinted in open amusement. "I've no doubt Lady Mercer will give me glowing marks."
    Kat bit the inside of her cheek to minimize her reaction to his thinly veiled innuendo. "Even so, payment for an armed guard was not in our contract."
    "That's fortunate," he said, adopting a serious expression and crossing his arms. "Because you couldn't afford me."
    Guy cleared his throat and stepped forward. "I'm sure we can work this out," he said pleasantly, then sent a reprimanding glare toward Kat.
    Andy Wharton, the ponytailed painting restorer, made a shuffling sound with his feet. "I'll make the call," he said, then left the room hurriedly. Undoubtedly to escape the presence of the arrogant Mr. Donovan, Kat thought.
    She narrowed her eyes at the British man. "What exactly do you do for a living, Mr. Donovan?"
    "I'm retired from the government's employ, Ms. McKray. I'm headed to New York City on holiday, and Lady Mercer's request to accompany the letter came at a convenient time."
    "New York by way of San Francisco sounds a little inconvenient to me, especially for such a short meeting."
    He winked. "I could be persuaded to stay a fortnight or two."
    Kat bristled and opened her mouth, but Guy cut in, addressing Mr. Muldoon loudly. "Well, I can't tell you how delighted we are to be showing the letter."
    "So nice your curator could accommodate us on such short notice," the courier returned.
    Guy beamed and Kat forced a smile—her boss knew she was less than enthusiastic about showing the document. She kept her voice cordial. "I try to remain flexible, Mr. Muldoon."
    "Which, if I may say so, is a most desirable quality," James Donovan offered.
    Kat jerked her head toward him, but his eyes were wide and innocent.
    "We're expecting large crowds," Guy continued, glazing over the moment.
    James Donovan sighed. "Mr. Trent, my companion and I are a bit whacked from the trip. Can we, as you Americans say, get the show on the road?"
    Guy started to nod, but Kat stepped in. "Not until we've spoken to Lady Mercer."
    On cue, a buzz and click sounded, and Andy reentered. "She said Mr. Donovan is a close friend of hers who agreed to accompany the courier."
    "Very well," Kat said, avoiding the eyes of the man they were discussing. "Then let's open the box and see what all the fuss is about, shall we?"
    Mr. Muldoon broke the outer seal of the container. Andy passed out latex gloves, and everyone watched as the lid was lifted and the special packing paper moved aside to reveal three small sheets of yellowed parchment. Kat lifted the plastic-encased sheets and placed them side by side on a table. Since the letter was written in nearly illegible German, a translation sheet had also been provided, along with a disclaimer, noting contemporary interpretations and conjecture concerning the indiscernible passages.
    "Read the translation," Andy urged, craning for a view.
    Kat squinted at the sheet. "It's undated. 'Dear Madam, I am penning you this note since I must once again break our regular engagement. It seems the goings-on in the world are determined to encroach on our private time, yet another reason to