Page 6 of The Eagle's Vault

Isaac, looking equally surprised, turned to Declan. “Wait, you opened Leigh’s safe?”

When Declan nodded, Isaac turned to me with a grin.

My annoyance flared. It wasn’t enough Declan had broken into my safe, but Isaac had to rub it in, didn’t he?

Every safe I designed was a work of beauty and grace, crafted with precision and near-impenetrable without heavy artillery. I could have slapped that look off Isaac’s face. Instead, I turned my hot anger on Declan. “You should’ve kept your grubby little fingers to yourself.”

Isaac stepped closer to me, running his hands over my arms. “Leigh, it’s fine. You’re overreacting.”

Overreacting? I took a slow breath, looking at my poor baby, who’d been manhandled not only by the thieves, but now by this—technician? I wasn’t overreacting. Overreacting meant a higher blood pressure, which meant danger for me. And everyone in my family worked overtime to ensure I never got too excited.

The quiet, boring life was the one for me. The provincial one! Today was no different, despite Isaac finally bringing me on a site visit outside of the US.

Keep your eyes off Declan and calm down.

Before I could gather my thoughts, another woman sauntered into the room. Shorter than me by a few inches, with shoulder-length black hair and broad shoulders. Confidence oozed from her as she took casual sips from a bottle of brown liquid.

“Jayce,” she introduced herself breezily, a grin spreading across her face. “How’s the safe ogling going, Declan?”

Declan shot me a quick glance before returning his attention to Jayce. “Do something useful, would you? Fetch my crowbar.”

“Why would you need a crowbar at this point?” she shot back, amusement dancing in her eyes. She had a point. Declan was trying to get rid of her.

And I had to get rid of him, too. Or at least stop staring at him, if I was going to get my job done.

Isaac moved into a comfortable conversation with the others in the room, chatting about Declan’s safe and how long they’d be in Rome. Isaac told them everything—except that I was the designer—while Declan and Jayce evaded most questions.

I traced the safe’s surface, my fingers running over a drill hole near the digital pad, and another two which had been patched up next to the hinges. The latter two seemed out of place, certainly not where an intruder would drill. The Barton plaque, which hid the key backup if the digital number pad didn’t work, was untouched. How had Declan opened it? Had he made those holes?

Declan and Isaac laughed over something, the sound churning in my gut.

Enough was enough. “I need a privacy curtain.”

I had work to do. And a city to see.

And I wasn’t going to let long-fingers Declan snoop around my safe again. He wasn’t getting any of my secrets.

Chapter 3

Declan

Leigh’sblowtorchclickedoffand on again. What was she doing behind the hastily erected privacy screen? Was her slick black hair still pulled into that ponytail high on her head? Or had she wrapped it up like a bun to ensure she didn’t burn it?

She hadn’t worn a stitch of makeup that I could tell, letting her natural beauty shine through. Nice and simple. Just what I wanted in a woman.

But with a fire hiding underneath those oversized clothes.

Not that I was interested in another relationship anytime soon. The thought of taking anyone through my mother’s gauntlet of tests and interviews was more than enough to kill my libido most days.Fuck, Dec. Safes are better than women, and you have a stunner in front of you.I clicked the glass plate into position behind the steel door and secured it in place, then wiped the sweat from my brow with the back of my gloved hand.

As the day had worn on, the temperature had dipped, but the humidity was high. And sadly, there was no air conditioning. Like my Nonna always said, switching from hot to cold too fast was bad for you—air conditioning only made people sick.

I paused, listening, parsing the hisses and clicks of the blowtorch for clues.

Nothing definitive. Was she soldering? Melting?

Playing with me? Maybe flirting.

A roll in the hay didn’t require interviews.

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