Connor’s standard reply didn’t surprise him.

Drew tried to meet Athena’s eyes, or as much of them as he could see through those damn glasses. “There’s a first time for everything.”

Her face flushed. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. I think it’s a mistake.” Connor shot them both hard looks and walked out.

Athena slid down into the heavy black stuffed leather chair in front of his desk.

Drew came around toward her. “You look tired.”

She laughed. “Just what a girl likes to hear. So much for Clayworth charm.”

Amused, he leaned on the desk in front of her. “Can I get you anything?”

“More time. It’s running out.”

“I know.” It suddenly hit him like a blow to the chest. Because of the crisis with Athena and the dresses, he might not sail in the Fastnet. The thought drove him back behind the desk that had been his father’s and grandfather’s and the founder’s, John Clayworth. Years of tradition. A name to protect at all costs.

“Sorry, but you do look tired. Rest. I’ll go see what Connor has dug up.”

From the doorway he heard her deep sigh and stared back at her. Her hair spilled over the back of the chair where she rested her head on the soft leather.

Instead of going straight into Connor’s office next door, he stopped in the butler’s pantry between the two rooms. A decade ago there had been a butler and a formal dining room, which now served as the boardroom. They all fended for themselves these days.

Connor found him staring into the refrigerator.

“We’ll have an answer in the next twenty minutes. What are you doing?”

Drew pulled out a bottle of sparkling water and a bottle of Duval-Leroy champagne. “Deciding which I should take to Athena. She looks like she could use a drink.”

“Don’t let her hurt you again.”

His words hit Drew like an icy wave, cooling the hot excitement he’d felt since Athena walked into the room. Keeping his face unreadable, Drew turned to Connor, the brother he’d never had. The only person who knew how much Athena had hurt him when he was so raw with pain. “It was a long time ago.”

Connor pushed his fingers through his unruly dark hair in the gesture that told everyone he felt embarrassed to be getting too personal, butting in where he shouldn’t. Drew wasn’t the only Clayworth to keep his emotions private. They each handled it in different ways.

“I know you cared about her once.”

Drew shrugged. “Don’t worry. I’m immune now.”

“I hope so, because with her dad’s trouble, nothing good could come out of you getting involved again. If you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

For Connor, this exchange took real caring and commitment, and Drew didn’t make light of it. He didn’t want to talk about his feelings for Athena. Christ, he didn’t ever want to feel anything for her, but he did.

He put the bottles down on the polished marble counter and clasped Connor’s shoulder. “I promise I’ll work this mess out with Athena to protect myself and Clayworth’s.”

Athena heard Connor’s voice and Drew’s coming through the small door in the middle of the wall of bookcases. Thinking it might be news, she went to find out.

They were standing in a long, narrow butler’s pantry, lined with cabinets of rare Circassian walnut and black marble.

“Did you find Shelby Anderson?”

They both looked up. Connor blushed to the roots of his dark hair, and Drew gave her his most insincere smile.

“We should have it by now. I’ll be back.” Connor bolted from the room, leaving Athena to wonder what she’d interrupted.

“Champagne or sparkling water?” Drew asked smoothly, holding up frosty bottles of both.

“Nothing, thank you. Has something happened?” she asked, sensing a new tenseness in him. A few minutes ago he’d seemed easier, approachable. Lance had urged her to make wise choices. She had to pick the right moment to put her past with Drew out on the table and talk about it from the perspective of two mature adults, not the children they’d been. He’d been right to say she looked tired. Tired of unhappiness and confusion. More than time to have this out with him.

“Drew, has something happened?” she asked again.

“Nothing’s changed. Trouble is trouble.” His face unreadable, he placed the bottles back in the refrigerator.

Connor came in and handed a sheet of paper to Drew. “There are three Shelby Andersons in Lincoln Park. One on Armitage. One on Fullerton, and one on Dickerson. But we have no proof that any of these are who you are looking for. Why would the thieves fence the gowns so quickly and so close to home?”

Excitement burned away Athena’s fatigue. “For a lawyer, you know precious little about the criminal mind. The gowns are hot. They want to unload them before they get caught. Bertha Palmer is a legend in Chicago, and all the best collectors are here. Give me the addresses so we can go and find out right now.”

Drew stared at her. “What are you suggesting? That we don’t call them first?”

“And say what? Hi, did you recently purchase a hot Bertha Palmer gown? Oh, and by the way, it’s infected with a truth serum, so please beware.” She thrust her chin up, determined to make this happen now. “I’m suggesting we go to these addresses to help Shelby and retrieve the gown. If they aren’t the right Shelby Anderson, we’ll be like that couple on television who goes around giving unsuspecting people a million dollars. Except it will be a shopping spree at Clayworth’s given out by the CEO himself.”

Connor shook his head. “As your lawyer, the less I know of this, the better. I’ll alert Lewis we might have a lead. Drew, watch yourself and call me if you need me. I’ll be ready.”

For some odd reason, Connor threw her a narrow, hard look of anger before he turned on his heels and left them alone.

Warmth coursed through her veins. A tiny gleam of delight gleamed in Drew’s eyes. “Connor’s right. This is crazy, but so is the whole situation. Let’s go, partner, and get this over with.”

Yes, if she ever hoped to get over Drew she needed to confront him openly.

And she would. As soon as they saved Shelby Anderson and Bertha’s gown.

CHAPTER

9

Athena and Drew agreed to start on Fullerton and work their way deeper into Lincoln Park.

The first Shelby Anderson’s ultramodern condo overlooked Lincoln Park Zoo, which seemed to delight her triplet four-year-old daughters who were giggling at the large windows. This Shelby had never heard of Bertha Palmer. Only the Palmer House Hotel, where they’d stayed for a week when the family moved to Chicago from Dubuque, Iowa.

Athena believed her.

The Shelby on Armitage turned out to be a guy who was drinking beer with his buddies while they watched the Cubs game on television. He insisted on knowing what he’d won at Clayworth’s, because his fiancée ran his card to the max every month. Without hesitation, Drew gave his private number and told him to call for his prize.

As they walked toward Dickerson, Athena slid Drew a sheepish look. “Sorry. This was all my idea. What are you giving him?”

“A zero balance on his Clayworth charge card.”

A warm, fuzzy feeling tingling to her toes, she grinned. “That’s very generous, Drew.”

He laughed. “No. It’s expedient.”

The instant Athena looked up at the imposing Victorian mansion in the heart of Lincoln Park, she sensed they’d come to the right place at last.

“This is it. Someone who lives in a house like this would love Bertha,” she told Drew and sprinted up the tall front steps. She pressed the brass doorbell just as Drew came up beside her.