Page 44 of To Catch a Sub

“Are you hoping to get hired at the museum, after?”

“I was, before, but I’m a little…disillusioned.” She frowned down at the drink menu she was holding. “I have been for a while.”

“I used to love the museum as a kid,” he said softly. “I thought it was the most impressive place on earth. This peek behind the curtain hurts.”

“I know exactly what you mean. For them to not even know eight hundred items went missing…”

It was actually five hundred, not eight, but he didn’t correct her. He was sure that gossip among the museum employees was rampant, and the few facts that he’d allowed out were being exaggerated and distorted.

They ordered drinks—a champagne cocktail for her, a gin and tonic for him, and a cheese board to share.

They talked about museums, steering away from the theft and their disappointment in the British Museum, to instead talk about their favorite museums and interesting exhibits they’d seen. She was articulate, knowledgeable, and well traveled. He could imagine her as a professor of some kind.

A sexy professor.

He wondered if she had her glasses in her purse, and what she’d look like wearing those and nothing else.

The conversation lulled as they ate cheese with fancy jam and cured meats, but it was a comfortable silence.

At one point, she put her hands on her lap, head bowed slightly.

“You okay?” he asked.

She looked up. “I know I probably shouldn’t ask you this, but do you think the thief is someone who works at the museum?”

Yes, he did think that.

Her brow was creased with worry. “Is it someone I know?”

“I can’t discuss details about the case, or suspects.”

She nodded once.

“Did someone say something that made you think they might be involved?” He tried to keep his tone light.

“No. I was just thinking about it and trying to figure it out.” She looked up, wincing in a self-deprecating way. “I probably read too many mysteries.”

He would never ask her to spy on her co-workers, but he did say, “If you hear anything, will you let me know?”

“Of course!”

“Don’t go asking questions,” he warned.

“How did you know I was planning to do that?” Her disgruntled tone was ridiculously cute.

He laughed softly, and she slumped in exaggerated disappointment. The motion pulled his attention to the deep V of her dress, and the lovely inner curves of her breasts.

When he looked up, she was watching him, and an understanding passed between them, the mood shifting from teasing to electric.

Colette rested her fingertips against the base of her throat, then let them trail down her chest to trace the edge of the fabric.

Landon’s cock went rock hard in his pants.

“If you want to make it through dinner, you’ll stop that.”

Her eyes widened slightly at his low, growling command, and he cursed, telling himself to calm down and rein it in.

“And what if…” Her gaze touched his face, his shoulders, his hand where it rested on the tabletop. “What if I don’t want to make it through dinner?”