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other half of the paintings and even time for Bridget and Annie to do their thing, too.”

Paxton snuggled Tinsley closer to him. He couldn’t wait for this to be over. They needed to move on with their lives as a couple. It was one thing to accept the risks in being an agent himself, but it was a completely different thing having Tinsley involved. If anything happened to her because of him, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

“We have a plan. I don’t want to worry about it for the rest of the night,” Tinsley told him before placing her lips on his chest and kissing her way across his muscles.

“That’s the best plan I’ve heard all night.” Paxton ran his fingers through her long hair and tightened his fingers to a fist so he could gently tug her wandering lips up his chest, over his neck, and to his mouth. “I love you,” he told her a second before taking her lips with his.

Tonight was about them. About their love. About their future. About their passion. Curtis, stolen art, the Myriad, everything else could all wait until morning. Paxton needed Tinsley to know how much she meant to him. He’d told her he loved her, but those words didn’t seem to be enough. So, instead of telling her, he showed her.

Paxton flipped Tinsley so he was on top. He stretched her arms toward the headboard and then took his time kissing, licking, and nibbling every inch of her smooth skin.

Tinsley’s words started coherently, but by the time he reached her center, they were just passionate murmurs. She was lost in the feeling of their bodies becoming one. When Paxton joined with her, his own words failed him. Instead, the two of them fell headfirst into their shared climax.

Tinsley picked up the phone and took a deep breath. It was Thursday. She’d kept Maurice at bay, but she knew her time was up. He was getting itchy to have some paintings sold. Today was the day she needed to tell him she was on her way to the archives for research. She’d been setting it up in previous conversations with Maurice and hoped she could buy herself the weekend.

Cy and her uncles were cleaning house in Atlanta. They were busting all the street-level dealers and working their way up the chain of command. Curtis had been missing in action for the past week. Even Maurice and Murray hadn’t been seen. Unfortunately, the art hadn’t been seen either.

The phone rang, but it didn’t get picked up. The FBI had been trying to trace the calls, but it was no good. Maurice would let the phone ring, then call back using a burner phone. Tinsley hung up and waited. It only took a minute for Maurice to call her back on an unknown number.

“I hope you have good news,” Maurice said, his voice tight and lacking the fake gentlemanly manners he’d used before.

“I do,” Tinsley said, adding a little extra sweetness to her voice. “We can start selling the paintings on Monday. I’m leaving today to visit an art library to get the final estimates needed on some of these exquisite pieces with no online sales records.”

“Monday? Why so long?” Maurice asked.

“I have a plan to get you the most money possible. I’m preparing a catalog with a picture of each painting or drawing. It includes the sales price and the history of the painting. I’m giving everyone one week to make their bids. By next Friday, the entire collection will be sold and your family will be able to afford any surgery your grandmother will ever need. We’re talking generational wealth here, Maurice. Your grandparents might be cash strapped, but this collection is her ultimate gift to you.”

“That much?” Maurice asked. Tinsley had fed him one painting a day, not the whole lot. She was saving it for just this time.

“You said that this is half of her collection, correct?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Maurice said eagerly. “We were hoping to get five million for half of it.”

“Five million,” Tinsley laughed. “Just the half I have is valued at over a hundred million, Maurice.”

Tinsley heard muffled conversation over the phone. Maurice was not alone.

“Would you and your family like to come see it one last time Monday morning before I start meeting with your private buyers?” Tinsley asked.

“That’s nice of you, Tinsley. I’ll check with everyone and text you later. We do want the pieces we’re privately selling pulled from the catalog. The public doesn’t need to see them since they are already sold,” Maurice instructed.

“Of course. I’ll send you a complete list now. You can send me an email with the pieces and purchase prices you want me to aim for with your buyers and I’ll pull them from the catalog. I can also start setting up sales appointments.”

“I’ll set them all up. It’ll be in the email I send you. I’ll be in touch. Thank you.” Maurice hung up and Tinsley remembered to start breathing again.

Paxton looked down at his phone and shook his head. “They still weren’t able to get a location on Maurice. You executed the plan perfectly, though. We’ll have undercover agents all through town and arrest every buyer as they come in. We will then quickly whisk them away before the next person comes.”

Tinsley nodded. Paxton had come up with the plan and Ryker’s contact had worked hard trying to identify all the art. Unfortunately, they weren’t listed in the Stolen Art Database of the United States. They had all come from Argentina, stolen from who knows where. Now they were in a holding pattern until the thieves were arrested and the other half of the art was found. Only then could they risk digging deeper into the true owners of the artwork. Until then, everyone would be arrested for the fraudulent provenances.

Paxton’s phone rang and Tinsley went back to work on the catalog as he went to answer it. When he came

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