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I’d be pleased to see you is through steel bars, you bastard. You used me, you lied to me. Trust me, you said, and all the time you were after the bronze.”
    He worked his tongue over his gums, tasted blood. Damn, the woman had a straight-on right jab. “That’s not entirely accurate.”
    She balled her fist, more than ready to use it again. “You went to Florence, didn’t you? You walked out of here, got on a plane, and went to Florence for the statues.”

    “Of course. I told you I was going to.”
    “Miserable thief.”
    “I’m an excellent thief. Even Cook thought so—though he’ll never prove it.” He smiled again, combed his fingers through the thick, dark hair the breeze blew into sexy disorder. “Now I’m a retired thief.”
    She folded her arms. Her left shoulder was still sore from the night on the cliffs, and the ache eased when she supported it. “I imagine you can live very well in retirement for what you sold the bronzes for.”
    “A man wouldn’t have to work again, in several lifetimes, for what the Michelangelo is worth.” While she clenched her fists, he watched her warily as he took out a cigar. “She’s the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen. The copy was good, it hinted at the power of her. But it couldn’t capture her heart, her mind, her essence. I’m amazed anyone who’d seen both could mistake one for the other. The Dark Lady sings, Miranda. She is incomparable.”
    “She belongs to the Italian people. She belongs in a museum where she can be seen and studied.”
    “You know, that’s the first time you’ve referred to her that way. Before you always said ‘it,’ or ‘the bronze,’ but never ‘her.” ’
    She turned to look out over the lawn, where the garden—hers now—was glowing in the moonlight. “I’m not going to discuss pronouns.”
    “It’s more than that, and you know it. You’ve learned something you neglected all these years in your quest for knowledge. Art lives.”
    He blew out a stream of smoke. “How’s Andrew?”
    “Now you want to discuss my family. Fine. He’s doing very well. So are Elizabeth and Charles.” It was how she thought of them now. “They’re back to their separate lives, and though Elizabeth mourns the loss of The Dark Lady, she’s well enough. Elise hurt her more. The breach of trust and affection.” She turned away. “I know how she feels. I know exactly what it is to be used and discarded like that.”
    He started to step forward, then changed his mind and leaned back against the wall. Seductions, apologies, cooing words weren’t the way with Miranda in her current mood.
    “We used each other,” he corrected. “And did a damn good job of it.”
    “And now we’re done,” she said flatly. “What do you want here?”
    “I came to offer you a deal.”
    “Did you really? Why would I deal with you?”
    “Several reasons come to mind. Tell me this first. Why haven’t you given me up to the police?”
    “Because I keep my word.”
    “Is that it?” When she didn’t answer he shrugged, but it bothered him. “Okay then, on to business. I have something you’d like to see.”
    After tossing the cigar high over the rail, he turned back into the bedroom. He brought out his bag, took out the carefully wrapped contents. Even before he uncovered it, she knew, and was too stunned to speak.
    “Gorgeous, isn’t she?” He held the figure as a man holds a lover, with great care and possessiveness. “It was love at first sight for me. She’s a woman who brings men to their knees, and knows it. She isn’t always kind, but she fascinates. It’s no wonder murder was done for her.”
    He looked over at Miranda, studied the way she looked with the moonlight sprinkling over her hair and shoulders. “Do you know, when I found her, stored in a metal box, locked into a chest in that dusty garage—where Elise’s car was hidden, by the way—when I took her out and held her like this for the first time, I would have sworn I heard harpsong. Do you believe in such things, Dr. Jones?”
    She could almost hear it herself, as she had in her dreams. “Why did you bring her here?”
    “I imagined you’d want to see her again. You’d want to be sure I had her.”
    “I knew you had her.” She couldn’t help herself. Moving closer, she ran a fingertip over the smiling face. “I’ve known for two weeks. As soon as I realized you’d gone, I knew.” She lifted her gaze from the bronze to his face. His beautiful,