Cat Got Your Tongue? Read Free Page B

her.
    But despite their conflict of interests, Alex had somehow managed to strike a balance between her mother’s contacts and hers. The agreement was simple—they stayed away from her clients and she stayed away from them. It was the only way she knew how to separate her two worlds and still maintain a relationship with her mother. Alex knew that she sometimes dabbled dangerously in the grey areas of the law, but she still had a mother out of prison and partially in her life. The inner conflict their arrangement caused her, she had eventually learned to deal with.
    Their contact was usually brief and sporadic, usually initiated by her mother.
    Until Jennifer had stopped all contact several weeks ago.
    Which was why Alex was here.
    With the auction on tonight and with her mother out of the picture, fences would be rallying up other cats in the area. And she was curious to see if she would recognize any of her mother’s associates. They all knew what Alex did for a living and that many of her clients were art collectors. Despite their ambivalence toward her, they gave her some acknowledgement and respect. After all, she was the daughter of someone they all respected—and they knew that she wouldn’t split on them if they stayed out of her way.
    Her mere presence at an art auction sent out a gentle, firm reminder to any fence or cat burglar of their unspoken agreement, thus silently ensuring the safety of her clients’ art collections.
    The sound of the gavel hitting down hard caused Alex to jerk. An excited murmur settled through the crowd followed by a round of applause. Alex looked around with a slight frown.
    From the pleased grin on Max’s face, she realized he’d won the bid on the Degas painting.
    Six million dollars. Small change for someone so wealthy but she noticed the deep satisfaction in his eyes and leaned into him affectionately.
    “Well done.”
    He flashed her a triumphant smile and returned his attention back to the next piece up for sale—an exquisite oil painting painted in the eighteenth century by Pierre-Auguste Renoir.
    There was a rapid increase of tension and excitement and Alex straightened in anticipation. No shortage of money in this room, that’s for sure.
    It was then that she noticed an inconspicuous blonde man dressed in a navy blue suit standing at the back of the room, a catalogue clasped in one hand.
    A quiet shiver trickled down her spine.
    Steven Bryson.
    Shit. Her heart thudded in recognition and she shifted in her seat, abruptly uncomfortable. For Steven to be here at Christie’s meant that he was hoping for instant information as to the location of the paintings about to be sold—a common trick amongst the cats. He seemed harmless standing against the door, but she knew his profession and knew that a cat burglar at an art auction meant trouble.
    As she mentally ran through the items on auction to gauge what he could be after, the bidding for the Renoir opened at nine million dollars. Bidding amounts were flying in rapid succession, the eyes of the skilled auctioneer darting across the room, not missing a single bid.
    Alex wasn’t surprised to see Cole Anderson lifting a hand to bid, unperturbed by the bidders competing with him. He was so composed, his concentration on the auctioneer at the podium. She kept a close eye on Steven, annoyed that he was analyzing the bidders with such interest.
    When the sale went to Cole at eighteen million dollars, Alex almost choked. Clearly, being a billionaire was great fun when attending an auction.
    Cole gave a slight nod, a small smile dancing at the corners of his mouth, and tilted his head in her direction. Their eyes met and Alex’s breath caught. His gaze was so intense, heat radiating off him by that one simple look, and Alex felt everything inside her shift. She took a shallow breath to steady herself, and he broke away to shake hands with the excited people who had crowded around him.
    Alex turned her attention back to Steven and