Author's Note: This chapter takes place 9 years ago.

Chapter 1

Young Agent Peter Burke knocked on the door of his boss's office.

"Come in, Peter," Hughes called. "Sit down. I have a new case for you." He handed Peter a sizeable file.

Peter looked at the name. "Francesca Rossi? " He opened the file and looked at the photo. She was an exotically beautiful woman, bewitching almost, her raven hair and dark skin offset by the white clothing she always wore. Her delicate features contrasted with the heavy antique gold earrings and necklace she wore. "Isn't she assigned to Amondson?"

"Now she is yours. We wanted a new face on this one. We want you to go in undercover and try to win her confidence."

"Okay. What is my cover?"

"We finally got enough evidence on Michael Kaleska, the gallery owner Francesca seems to do a lot of business with. We're leveraging him to get to her. You're going in as a wealthy collector interested in the new Manet that was just discovered. Kaleska will arrange the introduction at the showing of her new painting tonight. All the particulars are in the file."

"I'll get with Amondson and pick his brain before I go."

"Be careful with your cover. She has managed to identify every other agent who's gotten anywhere near her. She has remarkable instincts for reading people."

"I'll do my best, Sir."

With that, Peter returned to his desk to study up for his coming performance.

At 8:00 that evening, he was casually touring the art gallery where Francesca Rossi's new painting was on display. She was an exceptional artist in her own right. Her status as an artist granted her access to collectors and patrons. It was unfortunate that she also enjoyed, for a fee, relieving those same collectors and patrons of their most valuable pieces and replacing them with excellent forgeries. It was also unfortunate, at least for the FBI, that she was exceptionally good at what she did.

She entered the gallery as Peter watched her from across the room. She walked with an alluring cat-like grace. Her unusual teal blue eyes were sparkling with intelligence. She commanded attention. Speaking with a thick accent, she peppered her conversation with Italian words and phrases. She was larger than life, noticeable, memorable. And it was all for show. All designed to draw in the unwary, catch their interest, have them begging to give her access to whatever she wanted. And it worked, all too well.

Seizing the opportunity when Francesca was not chatting with other gallery patrons, Peter lifted two flutes of champagne off a passing waiter's tray. He motioned to Kaleska, the gallery owner, to accompany him to where she was standing alone.

Kaleska made the introduction, "Francesca, I would like you to meet Jason Brechtman, a business associate of mine. He and I have had many dealings, and he asked particularly to meet you this evening."

Francesca smiled slowly, accepted the glass of champagne with one hand and offered her other hand to Peter, now using the alias of Jason Brechtman. "I am always delighted to meet new friends." Her voice was low pitched, sultry and heavily accented.

Peter could feel the attraction, the charm and sensuality she exuded. No wonder she was so successful at conning people. He smiled back in what he hoped was his most confidence building manner. "New friends are always valued, especially when they are as lovely as you, Francesca. And as talented. I admire your work greatly."

"Thank you, Jason. I am flattered you came to see my poor efforts at painting." Her hand gestured towards her new canvas.

"The new painting is exquisite, as is the artist. But I confess I am usually more intrigued by the classics. In particular, I am hoping to acquire the Manet that was recently discovered. Have you had the opportunity to view it yet?"

"Not yet, but I am open to new opportunities." She decided she liked this man and wanted to further the acquaintance. Usually the people Mark referred to her were single-mindedly interested only in increasing their wealth or position. And greed was definitely not an attractive trait in a man. There was something, well, almost upstanding, about this one. Like he was at conflict with his desire to acquire a valuable painting. Almost as if there were another side to him. Suddenly, it hit her. He was FBI! She had been lulled by her instant attraction to this man. So, they had assigned a new agent to her. Lovely! An interesting man at last. And apparently someone worth playing the game with. She almost purred as her smile broadened.

"Caro, perhaps we should talk somewhere more private. I have grown weary of being here. Perhaps you could see me to my studio?"

Peter was taken aback. This was going far better than expected. Francesca must truly trust referrals brought by the gallery owner. And the chance to be invited inside her studio—no warrant required—was a godsend. He did not even try to disguise his delight in accepting the invitation. The couple promptly left the gallery.

Conversation on the ride to her studio was light and general. Peter didn't want to press her to set up a deal for the theft of the painting. He wanted her to get comfortable with him so that he could check out her studio. He didn't want to blow this opportunity by appearing too eager.

At her studio, Francesca welcomed him inside with a flourish of her arms. "Benvenuto! Welcome! This is where I do most of my work. Take care not to get paint on your clothing."

Peter looked around the studio littered with the chaos of creative endeavors. Paints, canvases, props, bolts of fabric strewn across the room in untidy piles.

"Ah, the birthplace of your creative process. Will it reveal your secrets to me?" Peter smiled at her as he began a slow but fruitless tour of the studio. Nothing there to indicate she was anything but what she claimed.

There was a small sitting room off to one side, and this was where Francesca led Peter when he had finished his casual search. She motioned for him to sit on the love seat there and busied herself with pouring two small glasses of a dark brown liquid. "I hope you will enjoy this. It is made very near the village that was my home, just at the foot of the Italian Alps. It is a vino di pomodoro, a wine of tomatoes, raisins and a bit of red onions."

Peter made a point of allowing their fingers to touch as he took the glass from her hand. He tasted the wine, and exercised iron control to swallow the vile stuff and to keep his face from reflecting his disgust.

Francesca smiled demurely and suggested, "It is something of an acquired taste."

"Interesting," was all that he could grind out, still struggling with the aftertaste. Peter thought he might have seen a flicker of laughter in those teal eyes, but it disappeared, and he decided he had imagined it.

She picked up a sketch pad and charcoal and proceeded to draw Peter's portrait. "I hope you do not mind—it is just a souvenir of our meeting."

"I'm flattered to be your subject."

"I hope that, in time, you will be much more." Francesca looked up at him through her eyelashes and smiled knowingly.

They chatted while she completed the sketch of Peter. She tore it off the sketchpad with a flourish and showed it to him.

"You are very talented. And again, I'm flattered—you made some improvements on my looks."

She laughed. "Nonsense, caro, I create only what I see."

"I've heard that with your talent, you can also recreate anything you see." That was as far as he dared push right now. She would undoubtedly want to check him out before entering into any agreement. He was sure his alias of Jason Brechtman would check out.

Francesca was thoroughly enjoying playing with her new toy. This agent was going to be a lot of fun. She was able to use her very real attraction for him to convince him that he was succeeding in charming her. Very enjoyable, but too risky to continue for long in such close quarters.

Sighing, and with many apologies, she confessed to exhaustion and ushered her new agent to the door. "Sempre viene domani." She translated for him, "Tomorrow always comes. This can be a good thing or sometimes a sad thing. We shall see."

"Thank you for a most enjoyable evening. Call me when we can meet again." He handed her a card on which he had written his cell phone number.

"I promise you, caro, I will be in touch with you very soon." Her hand rested lightly on his chest. Her amazing teal eyes gazed into his while a secretive smile played on her lips. She breathily whispered goodnight and closed the door after him.

As he walked to his car, Peter congratulated himself on a successful opening gambit. Her interest in him was genuine. He was sure he had her hooked.

Francesca watched until Peter's car was out of sight. She gathered up her sketch, the card with Peter's cell phone number on it and the paper on which she had noted his license plate number. Wrapping a cloak around her, she walked out into the night on her way to a friend's rooms.

After a brisk walk, she arrived and knocked on her friend's door. The door opened a fraction of an inch, the chain still in place. "Mozzie, mi amore, it is I, Francesca. I need your oh so expert assistance."

Mozzie unchained the door, ushered her in and peered side to side down the street to see if she had been followed.

Francesca handed him the papers she brought. "Please tell me you can find this one's name. I am certain he's my new FBI agent. Was that not so charming of them to provide me with a new one just when I was getting bored? I must thank them."

Mozzie took the information and sat down at his computer. Within minutes, he had pulled up a photo of Agent Peter Burke and a biography of his service with the FBI. "Just as you suspected. Wouldn't it be safer to keep your distance from this one?"

Francesca stood behind him and let her fingers languidly caress his cheek. She leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of his head. "I know you wish only to protect me, but I must have my small amusements. And, besides, it would be rude not to acknowledge all their efforts."

Mozzie shivered a little as her lips touched his head. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply of her perfume. "I know you won't, but I'll tell you anyway. Be careful. This one is a rising star in the bureau. He's got a great closing ratio for cases."

"Thank you for all your help. And I promise you, Mozzie, I shall be careful. I just wish to welcome him to the game." She said her goodbyes and returned home.

The next day Peter reported to Hughes on the events of last night. "I made contact, and I think she's interested." Preening just a bit, Peter said "We had a connection, a strong one. She is very interested. I'm sure she will be contacting me very soon."

Just then a clerk walked into the office and handed Peter an envelope. "This just arrived for you, Agent Burke. Special delivery." The clerk nodded to Hughes and left the office.

Peter opened the envelope. Inside was a thick folded parchment in cream with a slender black border of Italianate scrollwork. He opened it and starting reading. After a moment he let the paper drop to the desk and shook his head ruefully. "Yeah, there was a connection alright, and she made it." He picked it up again and read the note aloud to Hughes.

"Dear Agent Burke,

Thank you for an enjoyable evening. How lovely it is the FBI has finally seen fit to assign me a man of substantial intelligence as well as physical attractiveness. I so look forward to working with you in the future.

If you are still interested in the Manet, please let me know. I will be happy to be of service.

Sempre viene domani,

Francesca Rossi"

Hughes couldn't help but smile at his discomfited agent. "Well, Peter, look on the bright side—she likes you. Maybe your 'physical attractiveness' will lead her to be careless." Hughes was still smiling as he left Peter's office. Rereading the note, Peter promised himself that this would be the last time he underestimated one Francesca Rossi.

Thus began a two year dance between art thief and federal agent. When they encountered each other at galleries, showings, museums, Francesca was always warm and welcoming to her personal stalker. She restrained herself from offering him hints on what she was working on—after all, he was way too smart for her own good. But she couldn't resist providing him suggestions to help him solve other white collar crimes where the methods were clumsy or violent and had offended her. Peter was more than willing to accept her help and encouraged her to confide in him. A strange relationship grew between them—a combination of antagonists and colleagues always carefully choreographed and delicately balanced. Until the balance shifted.