Page 30 of Knot for Sale

Setting it aside for now, I closed down the laptop and stared at it for a long moment. The soft voices from the other roomhad gone quiet. Pushing away from the desk, I rose and went to check on my unexpected guests.

I found them both on the bed, fully clothed, with all the lights off except for a single bedside lamp. Ms. Hope—Emma—was fast asleep, draped against Elijah’s side with his arm around her shoulders, looking younger now that the lines of stress at the corners of her eyes had eased.

Elijah was awake. His startling green eyes fixed on me, unblinking.

“You already knew the Huntwells,” he said.

He’d been eavesdropping, of course. I could hardly fault him after I’d done the same thing earlier. Honestly, I’d expected it—that’s why I’d warned Curran to keep things vague.

“Should we take this conversation elsewhere?” I asked quietly, indicating the sleeping girl in his arms with a tilt of my chin.

“We’re roommates,” he said. “Trust me when I say that a nuclear bomb wouldn’t wake her up right now, thanks to jet lag, plus stress, plus absinthe.”

I nodded, accepting it. “Yes. The Huntwells have a history with my family. I’d prefer not to discuss the details.”

“A bad history, though?” he asked. “And if that’s the case, how come you’re buddying up to Huntwell Senior?”

I debated how much to say. “I’m confident you’ve heard the old adage, ‘keep your friends close’—”

“‘But keep your enemies closer,’” he finished. “Right. Next question. I appreciate the fact that you’re helping us out... but if we get in the middle of whatever your deal is with Emma’s uncle, how likely are we to end up at the bottom of the ocean, feeding the fishes?”

It was close enough to my own musings earlier that I couldn’t prevent a snort from escaping.

“How likely is it that you’ll end up taking a swim if you don’t accept my help, given that the Huntwells already appear to have a grudge against your friend?” I shot back.

“I don’t honestly know,” Elijah replied. “It may be hard to believe, but this is my first brush with the London mafia, or whatever you guys are.”

I bristled at being lumped in with the men I was hunting, but I also doubted any protests I might make would do much to convince him.

“In your position, I’d be a great deal happier getting off this yacht in a few days than sticking around to find out what Tommy Huntwell’s endgame is,” I told him.

Elijah winced. “Fair. I’m not sure a few days is going to be soon enough, though. Not for her.” He looked down at his sleeping bedmate.

I had no answer to that—mostly because if it wasn’t soon enough, I had no earthly idea what to do next.

FOURTEEN

Emma

I WOKE UP feeling as though I’d downed an entire bottle of absinthe rather than a single cocktail. How had I ever managed to sleep through the night? I’d thought I’d end up staring at the ceiling until dawn, given all the terrifying things hanging over my head.

---