The London Deception Read Online Free PDF

Gallagher International’s just a front for all that.”
    Finn kept his smile broad and his tone wry. He knew as well as anyone technology and modern communications had made it virtually impossible to remain fully incognito. But he was surprised by the depth of John’s gossip-fueled knowledge.
    “Do I look like I like khaki pants and fedoras?” Finn extended his sleeves for good measure, pleased when his cuff links winked in the light of the bar. “And I’m not sure I’ve ever touched a bullwhip.”
    John’s smile—and the wine that fueled the haze behind his gaze—was broad. “And this is clearly how gossip gets started. You’re a young guy. People know you’ve got a sense of adventure. The rest steamrolls from there.”
    “I’m a businessman with diverse interests. But I have to say I’m sort of pleased to know I have a reputation.”
    John had the wherewithal to decline another bottle, and it was only as Finn was headed home, the thick fall air clearing his head from the wine, that he congratulated himself on the approach he’d taken with the House of Steele.
    If John’s comments were any indication, people in the know had begun to speculate on his motives. He ran Gallagher International with an impeccable track record, and his skills authenticating for the major auction houses were known to be among the best. State-of-the-art and thorough authentication of artifacts, the ability to secure permits and licenses to excavate, and the mediation services he’d indicated earlier.
    All had proven far more lucrative than the choices of his early, misguided days.
    And all had provided an outstanding cover for his older, somewhat wiser, still-misguided choices.
    The only question left to his mind was whether or not Rowan Steele was going to go along for the ride.
    * * *
    Rowan sat in the conference room they kept at headquarters and pored over the map of Egypt she’d had since her college days. The map was well used—full of pencil markings, notations and a fair number of rips and tears—but she loved it and the history of her life that was tied to every one of those external markers.
    She’d instructed Kensington to take the meeting with Finn Gallagher and knew she needed to be on her game. The man had rearranged his entire schedule to get to New York overnight for their face-to-face, only reinforcing the job was one of his highest priorities. As if the payment he’d offered didn’t already offer a sizable clue.
    Although she hadn’t slept much this week, the time with Campbell the other night had eliminated the nightmares, and when she did sleep, her mind was blessedly free. For the first time in more days than she could count, Rowan felt somewhat back to her old self.
    Kensington bustled into the room on sky-high, pencil-thin heels, her normally serene expression haggard. “That’s what you’re wearing to this meeting?”
    “I’m fine.” Rowan glanced down at the peasant blouse she’d donned with a pair of jeans. “What’s your damage today?”
    “Finn Gallagher is offering us a rather lucrative gig, Rowan. You can’t take it a notch above bohemian chic?”
    “I think your sister looks rather beautiful, Ms. Steele.”
    They both turned, and Rowan would have bet her face was a match for Kensington’s dropped mouth as they both took in the large man that stood in the doorway.
    “As do you in your corporate chic. I hope you’ll forgive my coming straight up. Your assistant let me in.” He stepped into the room and crossed to them, his arm outstretched. “Kensington?”
    Rowan gave her sister the edge in quick recoveries and saw the polished veneer that returned once more to her porcelain skin. “Mr. Gallagher. Glad you could join us.”
    “Finn, please.”
    The man turned toward her, and Rowan felt the first blast from his intense gaze. Rich hazel eyes winked at her, slight crinkles edging the corners, and she felt herself immediately sucked in.
    Especially when another pair of hazel eyes