Page 20 of Royally Romanov
People couldn’t hurt what they couldn’t see.
“Why are you here, Maxim?” She lifted her chin and looked him square in the eyes. It was time they cut to the chase.
His smile faded as quickly as it appeared. “I need to show you something.”
Finley’s gaze drifted to the brown leather notebook in his hands. She hadn’t a clue what was inside it and couldn’t imagine what it could possibly have to do with her. Or the Romanovs, for that matter.
“Look, is there someplace where we could talk?” Maxim cast a dark glance at the security guard standing quietly in the corner. “In private.”
Finley hadn’t even registered the guard’s presence. Security officers were all over the Louvre. Museum guidelines mandated there be at least one in every room. In their understated navy suits and ties, they pretty much blended into the background. Which was the whole purpose of the plain-clothes uniform.
The building’s entrances and exits, on the other hand, were all guarded by either two or four French policemen carrying machine guns. Those guys were a little harder to forget.
“I share an office with six other assistant curators. Why don’t we go for a walk?” As foolish as agreeing to leave the museum with him seemed, it was her only option. The walls of the Louvre had ears.
The Jardin des Tuileries was right outside. They could get away from prying eyes, but at the same time still be surrounded by people. As intrigued as Finley might be, she still wasn’t certain she should go anywhere alone with Maxim. Other than Scott, she hadn’t been alone with a man a long time.
A very long time.
He nodded. “Lead the way.”
They wove through the crowds of tourists until they reached the lobby with its grand spiral staircase. Finley flashed her museum employee badge as she steered Maxim out the employee exit, past two armedpoliciers.
Beside her, Maxim tensed.
Scott was right. He’s a criminal. Perfect.
Both officers made eye contact with Maxim, but to Finley’s great relief, they simply nodded and said, “Au revoir.”
Something was off, though. Finley could feel it. She shouldn’t be leaving the museum with this man.
Her heart was beating hard, and she was seriously considering turning right around and running back to the curatorial wing.
There was no denying Maxim’s resemblance to the Tsar, though. He looked like a Romanov. So much so that Finley couldn’t help but wonder if he might actually know something about the last of the Russian royals.
If he did, she needed to know what it was. She’d be an idiot to walk away from an opportunity like this.
She took a deep breath and followed him. They walked quietly across the main courtyard. When they reached the largest of the three glass pyramids, Maxim finally broke the silence.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “The police came to see me in the hospital, and they seem to know more about me than I know about myself. It’s...”
Finley studied his reflection in the pyramid’s glossy panes and waited for him to finish his thought.
“... confusing.” His reflected gaze fixed with hers. “I don’t know if they think I’m the bad guy or the good guy. It’s hard to tell.”
Yet another warning sign. If Finley had an ounce of sense, she’d turn around and walk straight back toward the museum. Of course if she had an ounce of sense, she wouldn’t be out here with Maxim Romanov in the first place.
Laurent.NotRomanov.
Why did she constantly have to correct herself?
Maybe because his resemblance to Nicholas II was so striking that he looked like he’d just climbed off Valentin Serov’s canvas. Right. That probably had a tad to do with her bewilderment.
Apparently Maxim wasn’t the only one who was confused.
She stared at his image in the pyramid’s polished glass. The triangular shape of the panes distorted the space between them just enough to make it look as though they were touching. If Finley hadn’t known better, she would have believed they were holding hands.
“I might not remember what happened to me, Finley. And I might not ever remember everything about my life, about who I am. But I promise you this. I’m not here to hurt you. I swear. I just want your help.”
