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Wade Cullen. An honest mistake. Or had the misconception been intentional?
    A relation of Juliana Wade. The fact didn’t change her mind about selling him the book. However, it might explain why he’d wanted that copy of Flights of Fancy . She looked again at the card. Had her mother ever mentioned whether Juliana had any children? She didn’t know. But she knew one way to find out.
    She’d have dinner with Mr. Cullen Wade to find out if he’d been her midnight burglar tonight and why he’d steal a copy of an ambiguous poem of unknown origins. At least then she’d know with whom and what she dealt. Maybe then she’d understand better the scope of her problem.
    Better the devil she’d met. She’d taken his measure earlier this morning. Cullen Wade she could handle. She only had to dine with him once to prove it to him. And herself. He’d be sorry he ever bothered.
     

 
    Chapter Four
     
    Sirens blared and strobes cut into the night, jabbing at the swirling fog to illuminate the dense shadows. Cullen slipped into the crowd gathered across the street from Eleven Cavendish Square. A woman stood in her robe and slippers, curlers in her hair. Another by-stander wore rumpled clothes that smelled of whiskey. Two police cruisers blocked the street entrance to the townhouse where Malena Alexander lived.
    “What’s going on here?” Cullen said.
    “Looks like a grab and dash,” the woman in bedroom slippers said.
    “Robbery, plain and simple. Watched a bloke dressed in a hoodie and long black coat come running out of the house just before the police pulled up.” The man in the rumpled clothes rubbed his face. “About knocked me flat on my arse, he did.”
    “What happened to you? There’s blood on your mouth,” a pregnant woman said to Cullen. She eyed him while she clutched her belly.
    “Bar fight at McConaughey’s,” Cullen said. “Should’ve seen the other guy.” He pressed his knuckle to the corner of his mouth and came away with a smear of blood. His mouth had fared a hell of a lot better than his ribs. He’d be lucky if he didn’t have more than one fracture. He’d be taping them tonight. Not like he’d never been in a fight before. And for some reason he could never explain, he healed much quicker than the average man. By tomorrow the cut on his lip would be gone and his ribs would be mended. “Can you describe him to the police?” Cullen said.
    “Not sure.”
    “Tell the police anything you’ve seen of interest. They’ll want to hear it all.” He turned to walk away.
    “Hey, shouldn’t you stick around and talk to the police?”
    “Nah, I didn’t see anything. I just wondered at all the commotion. Wanted to know what happened. My girl and I had a blazing row. Need to apologize.” Cullen kept walking, his long strides eating up the distance between him and escape. His leather pants, ripped Carlsberg t-shirt, earring, and chip-on-the-shoulder attitude would keep anyone from associating him with the stoic, upright businessman Cullen Wade.
    The foggy night closed in around him.
    He knew only too well what the intruder had worn, he’d come face to face with the bastard inside. Their evenly matched scuffle had cleared the desk and then wrecked the foyer, knocking a vase to the floor. The man had slammed him against the wall, his forearm jammed against his throat in a choke hold. Cullen had freed himself then attacked, sending the man crashing into the table.
    When the vase crashed to the floor, the intruder ran and Cullen had heard Malena moving around upstairs. Scotland Yard detectives wouldn’t understand how he’d come to be inside a house that wasn’t his–no matter if he had scared off the intruder and kept Malena Alexander safe tonight.
    Witnesses at the auction in Oxford would attest to his motivation. If she pointed a finger in his direction, he’d be suspect number one.
    Rounding the street corner where he’d parked his motorcycle, he grabbed his helmet and gingerly