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those eyes that promised everything. “No. I’ve got information about the intermediary.”
    “Right. Houseman or whatever his name was.”
    “Stewart said the guy looked Nordic, moved like an athlete.”
    Bax gave a dismissive shrug. “That’s all in the police report.”
    “And just exactly how did you get your hands on the police report, anyway?”
    “A friend or two in the right places.” And his good fortune that San Francisco had jurisdiction over the larceny portion of the case.
    “Did the report also mention the scar on his hand? Ooooh, I guess it didn’t,” Joss singsonged with enjoymentand walked over to lean against the edge of his desk, facing him.
    Bax looked at her. “There’s a perfectly good chair over there.” And he’d be much more comfortable with her at a distance.
    “I’d rather talk face-to-face.” Mischief lurked in her eyes.
    “You’re on my desk.”
    “Good.” She leaned on one hand. “Something ought to be. There’s something slightly disturbed about a person having such a clean desk.”
    “I like things uncluttered.” Which meant not sleeping with clients, he reminded himself, but he couldn’t stop staring at the long, lean lines of her body.
    “Sometimes clutter is a lot more fun,” she purred and touched the tip of her tongue to her upper lip.
    Bax cleared his throat. “What about the scar?”
    “Well, obviously it’s an identifier. If we find Silverhielm, we look at his soldiers and try to find the guy with the mark.”
    “It’s a long shot.”
    “It’s something concrete. Anyway, what did you come up with today, Phillip Marlowe?”
    “My Interpol contact didn’t know a whole lot but he promised to ask around. He was able to pass on a few interesting tidbits, though.”
    “Such as?”
    “Our boy has his fingers in a lot of pies. Officially, he does import/export. Jewelry, mostly. He seems to consider himself a connoisseur of the finer things. Lives on a private island in the archipelago to the east of Stockholm.”
    “Nice. Has he been in trouble with the law?”
    “Nothing that showed up on any of the systems my contact could access. He’s rumored to be responsible for several ugly murders. Word on the street is that he’s not to be crossed.”
    Joss nodded thoughtfully. “Interesting.”
    “Interesting? How about disturbing?”
    “Are you scared?”
    “No, but you should be. If Silverhielm is involved, you have no business coming to Stockholm with me.”
    “But how else are we going to be lovers?” Joss sank down to lie across his empty desk, propping her head on one hand. “Why Bax, a person would think that you’ve forgotten all about our agreement.”
    He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “I’ve changed my mind.”
    “But how can that be?” She slid her hand over her hip. “Oh, I know, I forgot about your retainer.”
     
    I F HE THOUGHT he was backing out of their deal, he was dreaming, pure and simple. She was going to Stockholm with him and she was going to be part of getting the one-penny Mauritius back. And if it took sex to make him putty in her hands, well, then sex it would be.
    Small sacrifice for the cause.
    Joss moistened her lips. “Something about an office has always given me the urge to misbehave,” she murmured, trailing her fingers down her neck, into the deep vee of skin exposed by her blouse and over the soft swells of her breasts until she saw Bax’s eyes darken.
    Fluidly, she rose and crossed to the door. “Perhaps I’ll just lock this.” She flicked the bolt with a metallic snick, then turned to face him. “Well, now that we’re not likely to be disturbed, how much of a down payment do you require?” she asked. “Enough to need one of these?” She rummaged in her purse to pull out a condom.
    Without asking, she walked over to Bax’s side of thedesk and sat across his lap. Then she laughed, a low, husky sound of delight as she felt the unmistakable shape of a hard-on beneath her.
    “That’s enough,