Page 29 of The San Marco Heist

The big man nodded. “The library doors were locked before Jayce went in, and she said someone picked the lock. She hit him on the head with some little statuette.”

Reminder to self: don’t let any of them near your head and don’t mention your goose egg.“My theory is that the other team spotted Emmett at the Maguire party and knows what your team does. They follow him the next day, planning to take him and force Reynolds to hand over the Codex. They break into the poker game and see him sitting next to me, a friend he was talking to at the party. And they change their plan—they now have an extra resource.”

“And maybe they assume you were working with us?”

I barely talked to Emmett at the party. How would they have known we were anything more than casual acquaintances? “Maybe?”

Rav twisted off the top of his water bottle and took a sip. “There were also two men that came after us while we were doing prep last weekend. We’re assuming they were working with the man Jayce knocked out. And you’re right—it’s likely the clowns are involved with them, since we got the Codex and they didn’t. The FBI took one of them into custody, but the other was smarter. He stole one of our phones but didn’t get any information from it, so that’s not our link to how they found us either.”

We’d been a ragtag team, with no loyalty between members. It was all about the money or the adventure. I was smart and had avoided cameras when I approached the Reynolds team. But the guy that got arrested? He was a loose cannon, running around Boston, waving his gun with no thought to his safety or his life outside of prison. Fortunately, he didn’t know enough about me to put me at risk.

Whoever hired me did, but not him.

Was it too late to tell anyone at Reynolds the truth? Or would they throw me out of the plane if I did?

Definitely the latter.

I was in too deep now. I had to get to London with them, help them steal the Chalcis Ring, and secure Emmett’s release. My debt would be paid, and no one would be any the wiser that I’d been on the other side of the Codex heist. Or that I’d been the one who’d stolen their driver’s phone.

Chapter 13

Malcolm

Whatadifferenceafull night’s sleep made. The few hours on the plane helped, but once we checked into the hotel, it was back to planning. Eventually, everyone surrendered to exhaustion and went to their separate rooms. Part of me was surprised they didn’t insist Rav watch over me for the night, to ensure I didn’t breathe the wrong way.

But I’d gotten the message. If I wanted in on this job, I had to change my tune. No more arguments, just follow Scarlett’s lead. That included a Monday morning full of shopping, since I didn’t have the required attire for our visit to London.

She’d used it as an excuse to spend a ridiculous amount on shoes at Alexander McQueen and a new handbag at Stella McCartney. Although I couldn’t argue with the result. The suit I wore to the architect’s office was a simple lightweight, navy-blue wool. But hers? The silver-tipped shoes peeked out from under slim pants and a long tailored jacket with a simple hook closure. Underneath that jacket, she wore a sheer lace tank top. The ensemble threatened to reveal something precious if she moved too fast.

If the architect was into women, they didn’t stand a chance.

“Mr. and Mrs. Stone?” The receptionist stepped out from behind her long black desk. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to one of our meeting rooms.”

The office was all clean lines, angular furniture, and stark black-and-white photographs. It was structure, constraint, and restrictions. Scarlett fit in perfectly.

“You certainly called at the right time,” said the receptionist over her shoulder. “We had a last-minute cancellation this morning.”

“You hear that, honey? Perfect timing,” purred Scarlett, a sound which settled a bit too low for comfort.

Instinctively, my hand reached for the small of her back, begging to feel the curve of her waist, of the smooth slope to her ass that was hidden underneath the jacket.Focus, man. We’d discussed levels of physicality, and they were to be used only if absolutely required. Walking behind a receptionist who wouldn’t have seen the move didn’t fall into therequiredcategory.

I halted my hand and considered shoving it into my pocket. “Absolutely perfect, my love.”

That also wasn’t supposed to be the nickname I used for her.

The devil on my shoulder shrugged and I continued. “We just flew in from Boston this morning and are leaving for Tuscany in three hours.”

Scarlett glared at me from the corner of her eye. She’d been clear I was an untested resource and was acting as arm candy exclusively, since we didn’t know enough about the architect. Her plan? We’d spend a few meals together in public, where I’d prove I could stick with a cover story. Then, she’d decide if I could open my pretty little mouth.

But now that we were in the architect’s office, all bets were off. She was going to see what I was capable of, whether or not she wanted to.

Her plan may have revealed that she found me attractive, but I was no one’s arm candy.

My hand finished its trek and landed at the small of her back, which caused her to arch away from it. I slid it all the way around her waist, to her opposite side, and pulled her close. Her musky perfume mingled with the patchouli in her shampoo, and I nearly planted my nose in her hair. “We have a little love nest in Tuscany and want to build another here.”

In her sky-high heels, she was almost as tall as me, so I couldn’t miss the look in her eyes. The one that said she was considering whether to slap me, stomp on my toe with one of her weaponized shoes, or scorch me with her fiery gaze.

The look was gone almost as fast as it had appeared, replaced by a loving smile. She’d only slipped out of character for a second, but it was worth it after how she’d dismissed me and had her guard dog growl.

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