west. The National Defense University was housed on the grounds, and D.C.’s main job was to oversee security. No problem there—since it ran like a well-oiled machine. Handling security had been a tad more challenging in Baghdad.
The other part of his job at Fort McNair was to investigate any crimes committed by personnel assigned to the base. So far the most exciting thing he’d done in the six months he’d been assigned there was to referee a fight that had broken out in the Officer’s Club.
Again, it was pretty easy work compared to what he’d done in Iraq. The upside was that it was risk free. You didn’t have to second-guess any decisions when you were signing requisition orders. No one’s life was on the line. Not his. Certainly not a partner’s.
He still felt guilty when he thought of David Eisley, the young private who’d been with him when he’d taken the hit to his leg. The soldier who hadn’t survived. But he was dealing with it. Risks, wins and losses—they were part of the job. Part of what had driven him to join the military in the first place.
At other times in his life, D.C. had embraced boredom. After a particularly rough day in a combat situation, a little tedium was welcome. Refreshing even. But enough was enough.
No doubt it was his state of mind that had fueled his imagination earlier that afternoon, when he and Darcy and his mom had been viewing the Rubinov Diamond. That had to have been why he’d had such an…odd reaction to that woman.
When he’d first met her eyes, the tightening in his gut had been unexpected. Raw and hot and sexual. That he might have been able to explain away. After all, she was a beautiful woman. The whiskey-colored eyes and the cameo face framed in a long fall of dark hair was enough to whet the appetite of any male with a pulse. And when she’d turned and strode away, the closer look he’d gotten at her body hadn’t disappointed him. Despite the fact she’d been wearing a short jacket and slacks, he’d gotten a clear impression of a lean, athletic body and miles of leg. Desire had punched through him again. Understandable. Enjoyable. But the intense and possessive urge he’d had to follow her was more than surprising. It was unprecedented.
He’d very nearly deserted his family to run after her. As it was, he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of her until she’d disappeared.
What would have happened if he had followed his mystery woman? The very nice fantasy that filled his mind helped him to fight off the increasing chill in the air as he continued down the path. The temperature had dropped steadily ever since the sun had set. But while they might warm him, distract him even, it was going to take more than interesting and pleasurable sexual fantasies to solve his current problem.
All he wanted for Christmas was an adventure. Was that too much to ask? Not anything major…he wouldn’t wish a crime spree on his base. But he desperately needed something to jar him out of his mind-numbing state.
Thanks to the leg injury he’d suffered on his last tour of duty, it wasn’t likely that he was going to see combat action anytime soon. Hell, he couldn’t even join his mother and younger sister on the ice rink. Pausing, he turned back to watch the skaters. He barely needed the cane anymore, and the leg itself was at eighty to eighty-five percent mobility. The problem was it wasn’t going to get to one hundred. His general had already had a conversation with him about transferring to a desk job at the Pentagon.
Problem was, a desk job didn’t appeal to D.C. any more than continuing on at the less-than-exciting Fort McNair.
D.C. tapped his cane impatiently against the ground as he watched his mother and Darcy skate by again. He’d always thought he’d be a military career man just as his father had been. At least that had been his father’s plan before he’d been killed in Bosnia. But a career in the army was out if D.C. had to spend the rest of his life on the fringes as he was doing today.
It came upon a midnight clear…
The lilting music had D.C. narrowing his eyes. Who said he had to wait until midnight for a little clarity? There was no time like the present. When January 15 rolled around, instead of signing up for another five years in the army, he could always resign. So what if he didn’t know exactly what he’d do next?
His older brother, who owned a security firm in Manhattan, had offered him a job. But in the last year, Jase had taken on a new partner and more recently a wife. No matter. D.C. would figure out something. He always did. The corners of his mouth lifted in a grin. He did like surprises. Wasn’t it the predictability of his daily routine at Fort McNair that was driving him nuts?
Having made the decision, something eased inside of him.
Finally.
This time, as his mother and sister rounded the curve, he smiled and waved at them. It was his day off, and he’d invited them to join him at the National Mall for some museum touring followed by skating at the sculpture garden. The visit to the National Gallery had been designed to tempt his mother into town. For the last twenty years, ever since Nancy Campbell had stepped into the job of single parent, he’d never known her to take much time off for herself.
So when she’d mentioned she’d love to see the Rubinov Diamond exhibit, D.C. had lost no time planning the day. According to the press releases, the Rubinov boasted a Cupid-like reputation of bringing together those who came in contact with it. But it was nearly equally famous for its history of frequently disappearing for long periods of time. When it invariably resurfaced, it was never possible to trace the relationship between the old owner and the new one.
It didn’t require highly trained investigatory skills to assume that there was often some sort of skulduggery afoot. D.C. suspected the diamond had, at various times, gone underground into someone’s private collection. He’d learned a lot about the temptations of private collectors when he’d been investigating an art theft case in Iraq, one that had involved some high-level military officials. It had been messy.
Who knew how long the Rubinov had been in the possession of its current owner, Gregory Shalnokov? The reclusive billionaire had admitted to owning it for the past ten years, but just how he’d come to acquire it was shrouded in mystery. D.C. knew that provenances could be forged.
Still, he figured he owed Shalnokov one when he’d seen the look on his mother’s and sister’s faces as they’d gazed at the diamond. D.C. shook his head. There was something about women and diamonds.
As far as he was concerned, the blue stone was just another rock, albeit one that supposedly had extraordinary powers. Truth told, he’d been more intrigued by the security on both the exhibition room and the display case than he’d been by the diamond. After a fair bit of prompting and a flash of his ID, one of the guards, a man named Bobby, had told him that the lock on the case was voice activated. Only Shalnokov could open it.
Interesting.
Over the years, the legendary diamond had attracted as many thieves as lovers. The article in the Washington Post had even mentioned the name of master thief Arthur Franks as having once had possession of the stone. While the female members of D.C.’s family had oohed and aahed over the diamond, he’d been wondering how a good thief might work a successful heist. And the fact that his mind had wandered down that path was pathetic proof of the level of his boredom.
Then he’d glanced up and looked into his mystery woman’s eyes. And for those next few seconds, he’d been unaware of anything but her. He couldn’t recall ever being that intensely aware of anyone before.
When his cell phone rang, D.C. glanced at the ID and grinned. Jase had been checking in with him once a week since
