Amanda continued to stare in disbelief at the stage, but there was no denying the evidence of her own eyes. Nick Grant was standing in front of an auditorium full of members of law enforcement, posing as a titled English lord.

"Nick Grant?" repeated Efraim. "Nick Grant the art thief?"

Amanda nodded. "We have to say something," she whispered. "He can't just stand up there and say-"

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," Nick's voice boomed through the speakers. "May I say what a pleasure it is to be here today?"

There were a few murmurs around the room and Nick's ever-present smile lit up his face. He gestured to the booth at the back of the room. "Can you bring up the house lights? I'd like to see everyone."

The room lit up as his request was granted and he chuckled. "Ah, I see from your expressions that some of us have met before." His eye travelled around the room and he waved at a few people, some of whom grudgingly waved back. Finally, his gaze lighted on Amanda, staring up at him from her perch in the front row. His grin grew impossibly brighter. "Some more recently than others. What a lovely surprise."

A ripple of confusion went through the crowd and Nick lifted his hand. "For those of you who haven't met me before, let me begin by addressing the elephant in the room before your colleagues storm the stage with torches and pitchforks." He paused, obviously enjoying the moment. "Let me introduce myself by my more commonly known alias: Nick Grant, art thief extraordinaire."

The buzz in the room rose to a fever pitch. "Now let me assure you all," he went on. "The organizers have not been tricked into hiring me as a speaker. I promise I have given up my previous… amusements. It's a very long story, but I really am the new security advisor for Steven Georgios. Poacher turned gamekeeper, as it were, or perhaps the fox in charge of the henhouse."

Amanda couldn't help giving off an exasperated noise of disbelief and Nick glanced down, face alight with humor at her stormy expression, before turning back to the microphone.

"And really who better to explain how to catch a thief than a thief?" he went on. "Now shall we begin?" He made a gesture to the control booth and the lights lowered again. The first slide came up and Nick began to speak.

"Now, the most basic thing you need to know about a crook – and I'm sure you all know this…"

Amana looked sideways at Efraim and gave a small shrug, then began to take notes. Nick's right – who better to learn from than the horse's mouth?"

An hour later, presentation done, Nick was down on the auditorium floor, shaking hands with some of the attendees, answering questions and greeting many as old acquaintances and arresting officers.

Finally, he wrapped up one last conversation and turned to find Amanda, who had been waiting patiently by the stage. He walked toward her, both hands outstretched and seized hers, lifting each in turn to drop a light kiss on them.

"Amanda! Darling!" he greeted her enthusiastically. "How lovely to see you! Whatever have you done with Lee?" he glanced at Efraim, who was standing beside her, then back at her with a grin. "Traded him in for a younger model?"

"Hello Nick," she replied. "No, Lee's at another presentation. This is Efraim Beaman, one of our co-workers."

"Nice to meet you," said Efraim, holding out his hand. "That was a fascinating talk you gave. I learned a lot about the criminal mentality."

"I'm so glad you enjoyed it," answered Nick. "It's long been a passion of mine, as I'm sure Amanda has told you." He gave them a quick wink.

"Nick!" said Amanda sharply. "What are you doing here? And why do they think you're Lord Grantfield? And what are you up to really?"

Nick beamed and tucked her hand into his elbow, then moved off toward the back doors of the auditorium. "I suppose my very best friends do get to hear the long version. Do you have another lecture to get to or can we go sit comfortably and have a drink?"

Amanda looked pointedly at her watch. "It's still morning, Nick."

"Are you sure?" he asked. "There are famously no clocks in Vegas and when in Vegas…" He quirked a brow at her, chuckling again at her expression. "Well then, a coffee," he cajoled her. "If I'm going to get a scolding, I need sustenance. You come along as well, young man – she won't want to have to repeat the story too many times."

Amanda allowed him to steer her toward the row of restaurants that lined the hallway, Efraim following in their wake. In deference to her comment about the early hour, Nick led them into a small café, and pulled out a chair for Amanda. "Order whatever you like," he said cheerfully. "I have an expense account and no one to waste it on." When Amanda started to speak, he held up a hand. "Coffee first, then stories," he insisted.

"Fine," she grumbled. "But this better be good."

"Lee's been rubbing off on you," he teased. "I thought you were the calm, patient one between the pair of you."

"I am patient," she responded. "And I'm patiently waiting to hear what cockamamie story you're going to come up with and wondering how I'm going to keep Lee from throttling you on sight."

"Dear me," said Nick, looking startled. "Really? I didn't think we'd parted on bad terms."

"Bad terms!" she exclaimed in disbelief. "The last time we saw you, you were trying to run off with a priceless Picasso that Lee had helped you steal!"

"What?" said Efraim. "Stetson stole a Picasso? How did I miss that?"

"I gave it back," said Nick, waving a hand airily. "You didn't really think I was going to keep it, did you?"

"We found you with a smoking gun over a dead body!" she retorted. "How could we possibly know what you were up to?"

"True," he conceded. "But then you both disappeared and left me in the hands of Billy and the delightful Ms. Desmond. I suppose I should thank you for that at least. I've never enjoyed an interrogation more." He turned to Efraim who had emitted what might have been considered a growl. "I see you've met her," he said. "Delightful woman."

"Indeed," Efraim ground out. "She's my partner."

"Lucky you," said Nick with a smile. "I'll bet you put in a lot of overtime… long hours alone in the office, in the car, in hotels…" he gestured around them. "Nice work if you can get it."

"Nick," Amanda interrupted him before he could rile up Efraim any further. "You said you were going to tell us what you're doing here! And you know, I'll know if you're feeding me a line – I have two teenage boys and a lot of years of knowing when they're lying."

"You wound me," Nick rested a hand on his heart theatrically. "Truly you do."

"Nick-" she said threateningly.

"Fine – the truth," he replied. He leaned back in his chair and sipped his coffee. "Well, believe it or not, the truth is… I actually am Lord Nicholas Mainwaring, 7th Marquess of Grantfield."

"No, you're not," Amanda shot back. "That's ridiculous."

"Most of British nobility is ridiculous," Nick agreed. "And never more so than when the title lands on a no-good black sheep like myself who should never have inherited in the first place."

"Are you serious?" she asked, suddenly doubtful.

"Deadly serious," he nodded. "I can show you the paperwork if you like. Signed by Queen Elizabeth herself."

"If you were going to be a marquess, why on earth would you become an art thief?" she asked.

"I wasn't supposed to be a marquess," he answered. "My uncle – my father's older brother was the heir and the 6th Marquess. My father died when I was young. My uncle had a son, but they were both killed in an accident a few months ago, leaving me holding a marquessate and responsible for a pair of female cousins and their protective mama, the former marchioness." For all that he spoke lightly, Nick's expression had a touch of anguish.

"I'm so sorry," Amanda reached out and laid her hand on top of his. "I had no idea."

Nick turned his hand to squeeze hers. "Thank you. It's all been a bit of a blur really. In the short term, being the sudden heir made it much easier for everyone to avoid putting me back in jail after the fiasco with Felicia, but along with the title came the death duties, and if I was going to keep any of our property, I needed a real job that made real money. Georgios came along at just the right time with an offer I literally couldn't afford to refuse."

"You're really helping build his security system?" Amanda asked. "For an art collection you would have stolen in a heartbeat six months ago?"

"You have to admit, I'm eminently qualified to do so," said Nick. "Who knows how to avoid security systems better than me?"

"How do we know you're not building in a back door to steal it yourself?" asked Efraim.

"That's a fair question," conceded Nick. "I suppose you'll just have to believe me."

"Lee is never going to believe this," said Amanda as she dropped her head into her hands. "Your timing for showing up and ruining things is impeccable."

"What did I ruin?" asked Nick. "You caught Felicia, you retrieved the Picasso, it all ended happily, well, except for poor Jason, of course… I don't see why you're so unhappy to see me!"

"Because you're trouble, Nick!" she replied, throwing her hands in the air. "Lee told me so last time and I didn't believe him and the next thing I knew, there was murder and mayhem and you at the very center of it all!"

"Not intentionally!" he protested. "I thought I'd found true love! How could I know Felicia was using me?"

Amanda sighed. "You're right – I'm being unfair. But we still need to keep Lee from finding out you're here. The last thing I need this week is for him to be in jail on a murder charge."

"Well then you'd better move fast," said Efraim. "Because he just walked in."