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“ I’ll hire a good lawyer.” She held her head high, but her voice wavered. “ Any judge who hears why I did this would only give me probation.”

“ Doubtful .” He looped the cuffs over the front of his belt where she could still see them.

“ Charges are way too stiff, and you’d have to ID your accomplices and name the women’s shelter.

As soon as you walk out the door of the courthouse, the mob will come after you and the shelter for their money.

Trust me, they won’t be sympathetic to your cause.

” And within a week, Gina Perot would be as dead as Jim Spencer .

His gut roiled at the image of her body floating in New York Harbor . He felt like garbage for what he had to do next. Play on her Achilles ’ heel.

“ Think about your friends,” he said in a low voice. “ Prison doesn’t exactly cater to rich women accustomed to having their hair coiffed and their nails manicured on a weekly basis.”

Her perfect brows furrowed. The anger shooting at him only seconds ago was gone, replaced by fear. Not for herself, he was sure. For her friends. He had to admire her loyalty, but the job came first. It had to.

She slid fully onto the love seat and grabbed a throw pillow, hugging it to her chest. After another minute, she lifted her eyes to meet his. “ I take full responsibility for everything.” Her voice trembled. “ I still won’t tell you who my friends are.”

“ You don’t really have to.” He watched her fingers dig deeper into the pillow.

“ The visitors log downstairs in the lobby is a road map to whoever you’ve been palling around with.

I can also subpoena your phone records. With or without your cooperation, in a few days I’ll have your friends’ names, addresses, where they play tennis, polo, and wherever else rich, pampered women go to spend money. ”

“ Please , don’t do that.” Her voice was soft, pleading. With her face still mostly in shadow, he couldn’t be certain but was she about to?—

He reached for the stained-glass lamp on the sofa end table and yanked on the metal beaded pull cord.

Ah , hell. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

He swallowed the big lump of guilt choking his windpipe.

She was a thief, but unlike most, she was also a real do-gooder. Not like the usual lowlifes he busted.

To her credit, she sniffed back the tears before a single drop spilled.

There is a god.

Anger he could take. Cursing he would understand. Even projectiles—bullets and knives—aimed at his head he could tolerate.

Her waterworks affected him like no other woman’s ever had.

Shit .

She licked her lips. “ You’re not giving me a choice.”

Now that he thought about it, her light olive complexion revealed what very well could be Mediterranean lineage.

“ I know.” He didn’t have a choice either.

Not if he wanted to get that bug planted in time.

“ You’ve got a decision to make,” he added before her expressive face did more of a number on his conscience.

Gina sifted her fingers through her hair, making him wonder if it was really as soft and silky as it looked. The throw pillow fell to her lap, and he decided then and there, skintight catsuits should be outlawed in all fifty states. And in all US territories.

The grandfather clock seemed louder, sounding more and more like a machine gun with every swing of its pendulum. Heaving it out the window onto the East Side Drive and watching it smash into a million pieces seemed like a stellar idea.

Jack’s muscles ratcheted tighter, but now for an entirely different reason. It was the look of vulnerability on Gina’s face, the one tugging on every vein leading to his heart.

Man , he was going soft. He clenched his hands and a shaft of pain shot through his busted wrist.

Gina’s slim fingers sifted back and forth through the throw pillow’s fringe. Her eyes filled with a mixture of worry and suspicion as she stared at him across the coffee table.

Come on. Take the deal.

If she didn’t, they were both screwed.

She bit her lower lip again, a habit he’d learned in the last hour she did when there was a major battle going on inside her head.

“ You said all your FBI buddies were on other assignments. We’ll need help running countersurveillance, but I won’t involve my friends unless you promise that, no matter what happens, they go free when this is over.

No charges filed on any of them. If something goes wrong and you need to blame it on someone, it will be me. Not them. Capiche ?”

Wiseass . “ Capiche .”

A few more seconds passed before she finally said with a degree of determination, “ Assuming my friends aren’t inclined to wear orange jumpsuits any more than I am, when do you want us to do this?”

Relief flooded his body, and he dragged a hand down his face. “ Wednesday night. Thursday will be our backup.”

“ That’s not much time.” She stood, then tossed the pillow on the sofa and began pacing in front of the window. “ With prep and surveillance, it might be doable. My friends and I need to check out the location and start putting a plan together.”

“ Negative .” Laying down ground rules with her was a no-brainer. He was calling the shots. Not her.

“ Negative ?” She laughed, and a rosy hue tinted her cheeks. “ Is that cop talk for ‘no’?”

“ This deal comes with conditions. My conditions. The first one is that you and your friends don’t go anywhere near the location until I say so and never without me present.”

“ Fine .” She also crossed her arms. “ When do you want to go with us?”

“ You really do have the biggest set of—” He blew out a loud breath. The woman loved to irritate him, something she was way too good at. “ You can’t stand relinquishing control, can you?”

She pressed her hand to her chest. “ Not when it’s my ass on the line.”

“ Too bad.” He strode to the window and planted his hand on the glass pane above her head. “ Welcome to the wonderful world of the FBI .”

Her lips compressed tightly. It was probably taking every ounce of her self-control not to whack him over the head with that glass lamp.

He wanted to laugh at the speed with which she shifted gears.

Totally vulnerable to completely kick-ass in a heartbeat.

He liked her better this way. This side of her personality he could deal with.

“ I can see you’re going to be a handful.” She already is .

She stiffened. “ A handful of what?”

“ Trouble .” Needing space, he backed away.

Her lips twisted into a sexy pout. Her eyes might not be shooting fiery bullets at him anymore, but the steady glow told him he had to keep his distance or risk having every hair on his head singed off.

“ Fine . You win.” She headed back to the crystal bowl of chocolates. Seconds later, she had another chocolate ball unwrapped and stuffed into her mouth.

Despite the sickening effect chocolate had on his stomach, he couldn’t tear his eyes from her mouth as she savored the candy. Or the way her tongue worked the inside of her cheeks.

She made a soft sighing sound as she swallowed. “ May I ask a question now, Mr . President ?”

“ Could I stop you?” Not likely.

“ Does your case have anything to do with the FBI agent who was murdered earlier this year?” Her voice held a sympathetic tone. “ I read about it in the newspapers. There was speculation the Falzones were behind it.”

“ Speculation my ass.” He fisted his good hand.

“ Was he a friend of yours?” The tender look she gave him twisted his guts.

I don’t deserve anyone’s tenderness . “ Yes .” He stared out the window, focusing on the bridges spanning the river. She was doing a good job of dredging up feelings he’d stashed so deeply, ones he prayed would never resurface.

“ I’m sorry.” He flinched at the light touch of her hand on his arm. “ About everything. Interfering in your investigation and about your colleague too.”

“ Forget it.” He risked a glance at her and instantly regretted it.

She’d dropped her hand, but the softness in her eyes tugged at his conscience.

He was already beginning to rethink the wisdom of recruiting her and her friends for such a dangerous job.

Like he had with Jim , he’d be putting them in danger.

Then again, these women had been parking themselves front and center of more danger than they realized.

The clock in the foyer chimed twice. Christ , it was two in the morning. While he’d been making a sappy ass of himself, time had seriously flown.

“ Here’s the deal.” He retucked his handcuffs into their usual place at the small of his back.

“ Get me into this location, and you and your friends don’t go to jail.

I forget I ever saw you. I forget your name and what you did to me.

” As if on cue, his wrist began to throb. “ But there’s one more thing.”

“ More ground rules?” A slight smile tugged at Gina’s lips.

“ Yes , and they’re nonnegotiable.”

“ What ?”

“ As long as my investigation remains active, there’ll be no more rips. Your little caper is shut down until I say otherwise.”

“ What ? ” Anger flashed in her eyes. “ You can’t do that. After I help you, you can’t tell me what to do.”

“ You’re wrong. I can.” He lasered her a sharp look of his own.

“ And you should be thinking more about your own safety and the lives of your friends. You’re tangling with people so vicious and cruel they’ll torture you just for the fun of it.

Then they’ll kill you to send a message to others not to mess with them. ”

“ Don’t you think I know that?”

“ You don’t know anything about the people you’re dealing with.”

“ Yes , I do. I —” She clamped her mouth shut.

“ You what?” He narrowed his eyes. “ What else do you know about the Falzones ?”

“ Nothing .” She lowered her gaze to his chest. “ Except they’re mobsters, so of course they’re dangerous.”

Yeah , right. Gina Perot might be a world-class thief, but her lying skills sucked. The only question was what she was hiding. As long as she did the break-in for him, he didn’t really care. At least, he shouldn’t care. Oddly , he did.

“ No more rips.” He ignored her I -hate-you glare. “ That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”

She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “ How do I know that after this is over, you won’t arrest us anyway?”

“ You don’t. Except that I gave you my word. In return, I want yours that you won’t plan any more heists.”

He counted off ten more seconds.

Finally , Gina held out her hand. “ Deal .”

When he clasped her hand, a soothing warmth passed from her smooth, shapely fingers to his large, callused ones. For several seconds their gazes met and held. Finally , he released her hand. “ Where do you work?” he asked.

After she gave him the address, he headed for the door.

“ Today at noon,” he said over his shoulder.

“ I’ll pick you up and we’ll go over details at the location.

Be ready.” He pulled the door open but stopped before stepping into the hallway.

“ Stealing from the mob to give to a women’s shelter is about the most courageous and admirable thing I’ve ever heard of.

” The ridged knob bit into his hand as he yanked the door shut behind him.

He really was turning into a sappy pile of mush.

At the elevator, he pushed the down button. The brass arrow above the elevator doors moved until it pointed to Gina’s floor and pinged. The doors creaked open and, as he stepped inside, he cast one last look toward her apartment.

How much of what was driving him was to stop the Falzones , and how much was to put an end to his own burning need to avenge Jim’s death? He wasn’t sure.

The elevator doors slid shut, and the car lurched as it descended. He leaned back against the metal wall and closed his eyes. Thank God she took the deal . Locking her up sat about as well with him as a dislocated shoulder.

He scrubbed his hand along his jaw, the day-old growth of beard pricking his fingers.

Like Gina , Jim Spencer’s wife, Tasha , was young and beautiful.

Jack had personally delivered the news of Jim’s death.

During the funeral, he’d held her hand. It had reminded him of the bookie’s funeral fifteen years earlier.

Although he hadn’t held that widow’s hand.

He’d attended the funeral to pay his respects and out of a sense of obligation.

Knowing the family wouldn’t appreciate his presence, he’d kept his distance.

As he’d driven from the cemetery, he’d glimpsed the widow silently weeping and the tears streaming down his daughter’s face.

The girl couldn’t have been more than seventeen or eighteen.

He’d practically been fresh out of Quantico at the time himself.

He’d been privileged and flattered beyond belief to be assisting on such an important organized crime case at such a young age.

His gut told him he’d done it right, but his conscience would never let him forget the consequences of his actions.

If it was the last thing he accomplished in his career, he’d get that bug planted and make an airtight case against Tino and Franco Falzone .

And as long as Gina and her friends were involved in his crazy-ass plan, he’d protect them.

At all cost. He’d die before letting anyone else get hurt on his watch.