Page 64 of The San Marco Heist

“Thank you,” I breathed as Malcolm towed me between other couples.

“Note how I kept my earpiece on this time.” He winked as he lifted my hand, encouraging me to spin slowly before we started.

“You should have given me a heads up you were on your way.”

His smirk didn’t even falter. “You’re welcome.”

“Sounded like you and Maguire know each other?”

“I told you.” He scanned the crowd as we danced, as alert as I should have been. “I’ve done work for his father.”

That didn’t answer the question.

His blue eyes landed on mine, narrowing slightly. “Of course, you also looked awfully close to him.”

“He’s handsy.”

“You didn’t seem to mind.”

Was that an accusation? “That’s my job.”

“He’s not your job.” Malcolm’s jaw flexed. What was the act? The jaw telling me he was jealous? The flirtatious smirk? Or the way he’d been doing his job, watching the crowd as though he were simply guiding us around the dance floor.

“But he’s going to be if we’re still here when this song ends.”

“You told him we were married?”

“No.” I kept my gaze up at Malcolm, flicking off to the side and back again, searching for Thomas or the architect. “That was Emmett last weekend.”

Malcolm’s step faltered. “Do you think he suspects you were behind the Cod—”

I took an extra-long step to close the distance between us so we could almost whisper. “Don’t say it out loud.”

His nostrils flared and his hand eased down my back, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. It was all part of the act. Get close enough to keep our conversation private, except for the team. But when his chest met mine and his hand ceased its descent at my tailbone, I had a momentary flash of the impossible—of encouraging it lower.

Yeah, Malcolm Sharpe was a problem for me.

“I thought Bruce White and his come-ons were going to be an issue, but if he talks to Thomas, we’re in bigger trouble. If they realize you’ve got two different husbands, what are we going to do?” He pushed me away with one hand to spin, then pulled me back so we were cheek to cheek.

There was no level of toe scrunching that could fix the feeling inside of me. I was still on the verge of panic about the call from the kidnappers, but there was something else underlying it. It was even worse than it had been with Noah at the start. He’d joined us as a contractor on a single op four years ago. But our immediate chemistry was something Mum couldn’t pass up, so she hired him full-time. Before I knew it, he’d practically taken over the number-two position, we’d moved in together, and got engaged.

That wasn’t about to happen with Malcolm Sharpe. He was a lone wolf. A renegade. Teams weren’t his thing.

Teams. Emmett.Focus.

“How’s it going, Dec?” I watched the crowd from over Malcolm’s shoulder.

“One sec… Got it!” whispered Declan. “The bookcase had a simple hidden switch.”

Malcolm’s head drew back, but not enough for me to see his face. He must have been as surprised as I was.

“No security to keep it closed?” I asked.

“Yikes,” said Jayce. Coming from her, that was never a good thing.

“Inside, we’ve got two wall safes and a standing safe.” Declan could be a cocky joker in his everyday. Laid back, but always analyzing things, searching for connections and patterns. On the job, his tone was light, but it masked cool efficiency. “I’m guessing it’s hidden for easy access, but from the inside, they’d be able to secure it with… holy shit, this is some serious security.”

Malcolm’s hand tightened on my back. “Any sign of the ring?”

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