The glow from the streetlight at the end of the alley revealed that his eyes weren't really brown as she'd first thought. They were hazel with odd golden flecks about the pupil that gave him an air of reckless instability. They were gleaming now with excitement-and that recklessness-as he looked down at her. "Is it too much to ask where this cache of cocaine is located?"

"Only a few blocks away. Despard and his men are using a small deserted warehouse close to the waterfront for storage. They were going to transport the cocaine by sea but they weren't able to hijack the yacht they wanted." Kate glanced up and down the street cautiously before turning right and motioning to Beau to follow. "It shouldn't take us more than fifteen minutes to get there."

"Providing we don't run into trouble." He fell into step with her, easily accommodating his long strides to her short but rapid steps. "It appears we've given your criminal cohorts the slip, but that doesn't mean they won't catch up with us."

"You don't have to sound so hopeful," she said, shooting him an indignant glance. "You may be enjoying all this enormously, but I assure you I'm taking it very seriously." She frowned. "And Despard isn't any cohort of ours. I can't stand the man. He's a damn cockatrice."

"A what?" he asked blankly.

"A cockatrice," she repeated impatiently. "You know, the mythical serpent that could kill with a look."

"Oh, of course." Beau's lips were twitching. "How could I have forgotten? Please forgive me. I can see how lumping you together with this cockatrice would be a terrible faux pas. It just seemed reasonable to assume you'd been partners with Despard and had a falling out."