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Ahhh. Fear for me, not of me.

“I can’t be here to keep you safe,” I countered. “And you’re going to be at the mercy of an evil man. I’m only going to be at the mercy of some electronics and brainless thugs.”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he said quietly.

“I know.”

“What are we going to do after this is over?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, but I was lying.

I was going to go home to Hobie with my tail between my legs and beg MJ to wrap me in blankets and feed me pints of heartbreak ice cream while Falcon was going to go back to Paris or DC and get recognition for a job well done. He was going to live his best life and find the perfect little househusband to keep his home fires burning while he rid the world of pesky art thieves.

Because that was really the only option.

The door to the house slammed closed which meant someone was coming. The two of us broke apart and quickly went to work looking for the new package of equipment. By the time Linney joined us, everything was fine.

It was fine.

And it was time to focus on the job ahead.

21

Falcon

Linney arranged the catering, Mouse prepared the house by moving most of our things into the van. We had to assume someone like Elek would take a peek around when he went to the restroom, so we couldn’t risk evidence of more than two men staying there. We also wanted to be ready to get the hell out of there as soon as the op was over.

Ziv worked with me to make sure my cover story was solid enough for me to make it through dinner without running out of things to talk about. We’d already told Mouse he could be the submissive, silent type or act like an airhead if he didn’t want to participate in the discussions. I secretly hoped he’d feel confident enough to speak since he was our art and antiquities expert. It’d be much easier for him to keep Elek occupied with art chatter than it would me.

Plus, my bad attitude toward the man would be tough to hide. I’d wanted so badly to ask King if Elek had ever hurt him physically, but I knew if I had any specifics, I wouldn’t be able to keep from wanting to beat the man when he came to dinner.

Before lunch, King and I took the scuba equipment down to water. There was a narrow stairway cut into the side of the cliff and a narrow strip of rocky beach below. I’d checked the tidal chart so we made sure not to attempt our testing at high tide.

It was cold as hell with the wind coming off the water and the wall of rock behind us, shading us from any sun this time of day.

King struggled to get the wet suit on over his boxer briefs, and I couldn’t do much more than stand there and gawp at him while he did it.

“Thanks,” he muttered. “Super helpful.”

“God you’re good-looking,” I said stupidly.

“I’m cold as balls.”

“Yeah, and it’s making your nipples hard. I’m bearing witness.”

King snorted. “Pervert. At least get the regulator ready. Make yourself useful, Grandpa.”

“I’m not even forty. I can’t help it if premature gray runs in my family,” I griped. “And I don’t know how to get the regulator ready with a pony bottle.”

“It’s the same as on a regular bottle, and you’re scuba certified which means you know how to do it. You’re just stalling.”

I waved my hand at his mostly naked body. “Can you blame me? People would pay big money for this kind of show at a club. If I don’t watch… it’s like… it’s like throwing money in the trash. Or something.”

He finally struggled the rest of the suit up and pulled the long zip lead over his back to close it. His body in a wet suit was ridiculous. Slim and sleek. Perfect.

“You’re drooling,” King said with a grin. “It’s kinda cute.”

“Shut up and get in the water. I still say you’re going to regret getting that suit wet before tonight.”

King’s face turned serious. “I agree, but not testing new equipment is a rookie mistake. And we only have one shot at this if he’s leaving tomorrow. No room for mistakes.”

I loved this side of him. Watching his competency on a mission was seductive. I shouldn’t be impressed with his ability to break into people’s houses and steal their prized possessions, but it was hard to deny how much skill it took to succeed as much as he had. And never get caught.

King leaned over and screwed the regulator onto the small air bottle before sliding it into the BCD vest and hooking up the hose to the vest. When he was ready, I lifted it up so he could slip it on.


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