Page 5 of The Eagle's Vault

As he escorted us deeper into the room, a figure—a gorgeous figure—unfolded from behind a table cluttered with tools.

All the air rushed out of my lungs.

He had a trim, athletic build, like a swimmer or a runner. His hair was thick, dark, and he had tanned, olive-hued skin suggesting part of his family came from Italy. His rugged features, a sharp contrast to the elegant surroundings, framed a pair of deeply intense hazel eyes. Eyes that seemed to trace every curve, every line hidden by my oversized work shirt, before they met mine.

A wave of heat flooded through me.

Finn’s critical words and orders of what to wear flashed through my brain, and I tugged at the hem of my shirt.Focus, Finn’s your past.

Isaac cleared his throat, stepping forward to break the charged silence. He introduced himself to the man.

“Declan Ramsay,” he said in a deep voice that skittered up and down my spine. Invaded private parts of me where a stranger’s voice shouldn’t be able to reach.

My gaze strayed past Declan, to the swung-open bookcase which had hidden a six-foot-tall safe, looming behind him. It didn’t look like mine. Considering it was open, it wouldn’t have been.

“I’m repairing a safe I built for Edoardo.” Declan’s gaze lingered on me, the uncomfortable heat continuing to zip through my body.

Isaac gestured toward me. “We work for Barton Safes and Locks out of Boston.”

Something flickered across Declan’s face. Surprise? Recognition? Had he heard of our company?

I moved closer and shook his hand. Firm, but gentle, his big hands and long fingers completely enveloping my own. Long fingers, long—Shit, Leigh, down, girl.

“Is Barton a family business?” Declan asked.

“Siblings,” I blurted out, my cheeks heating at my hasty response. It wasn’t what he’d asked, but it answered the question I’d wanted him to ask. Isaac and I weren’t married. I was a Barton by birth, not marriage.

“The Barton team didn’t need to come all this way.” Declan’s lips curled into a sly smile, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I could have handled both repairs.”

“So, Declan.” Isaac sauntered toward the open safe, his easy charm on full display. “Who’s your employer?”

Declan shrugged. “A small company from the East Coast of Canada. You wouldn’t have heard of us.”

“Try me.” Isaac smiled. “I like to do the circuits at all the trade shows.”

There it was. The effortless small talk, the casual ease of conversation. Isaac, the born people-person.

And me? Not so much.

I tore my focus away from the men, from my discomfort every time Declan looked at me, and scanned the books covering the room. Dusty tomes sat piled on tables, their leather-bound covers whispering stories of the past.

The rolling ladder on the balcony would be the perfect spot to reenact a moment fromBeauty and the Beast.

Which bookcase hid my safe? The faster I could finish the repairs, the faster I’d be wandering the streets of Rome. If I was lucky, we could hit the major points before Isaac’s meetings started.

While my brother continued chatting with Declan, the two talking about everything and yet nothing, I turned to Edoardo. “Mr. Caetani, I’d like to look at the damage, so I can come up with a plan.”

“Sì, of course.” Edoardo waved me toward a bookcase only six feet from Declan’s and swung it wide, revealing my safe.

The knot which had been progressively tightening in my stomach twisted harder and lifted into my throat. It was open. Just a crack, but open. Isaac said we were here so I could open it and then repair it. How was it open and the library wasn’t in shambles? “Did… did the thieves do this?”

“I told you I could’ve taken care of it.” Declan’s tone was irritatingly casual.

I swiveled to face him.

He’d opened it!

How dare he invade my turf? Names and insults and anger pelted my brain. Jerk. Asshole. Cocky prick. He was too hot to be capable of opening my safe without destroying a wall or two in the process.

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