He opened his eyes and brushed my hair off my forehead. “Neither can I.”
“Can you tell me a little bit more about the necklace?”
“Only a little bit. You want something to eat while we talk?”
I nodded. “I’m starving.”
He grinned. “You ought to be after all that. How about some French toast?”
“You can make that?”
Lance huffed. “I’m a damn good cook. My parents taught me right.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Then prove it.”
“You’ll learn not to challenge me.”
“Will I?”
He smiled, and I knew he liked my answer. Lance wanted to be in charge, but he didn’t want me to make that too easy. He was exactly what I needed, even though I would never have been able to put that into words before the insanity of the last few days. I just hoped whatever this was between us would last a little longer. I wanted to stay in the fantasy—except for the part where my life was in danger.
As I slipped out of bed, I glanced over at Tony, who was curled up and sleeping in his doll-sized four-poster bed on his puffy mattress covered in a silky pillowcase. Of course Lance would go over the top for him.
“Let him sleep,” Lance said.
I nodded and followed him to the kitchen.
He gestured for me to have a seat at the kitchen counter while he began gathering ingredients. The night had been wonderful so far, but my mind had never been very good at keeping reality at bay. The longer I sat watching Lance move adeptly around the kitchen, the more the need to ask questions rose within me. I believed him and his brothers when they said I was in danger, but I needed to understand exactly what that meant.
If I was going to be mixed up in some organized crime intrigue, if my life was on the line—that still seemed impossible to me even after all I’d seen that day—I deserved answers.
“How did the necklace end up in my archive?”
Lance turned around from where he had been beating eggs and milk together. “The less you know about that—”
“The more crazy I’m going to feel.”
“All I can tell you is that a contact of Remington’s left it there after telling Remy he was passing along information that would prove who was behind the theft.”
“Who is this person, and how did they get in without me knowing it?”
Lance sighed. “They didn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“They came in as a regular patron, someone you wouldn’t have noticed. I was supposed to slip in and retrieve it the same way.”
“While accompanied by your pet monkey?”
He huffed. “Obviously Remington told me not to bring Tony, but—”
“You don’t listen to directions.”
“Right.”
“I need to know who it is. What if I see him again?”
“The man is probably dead.”
Had I heard that right? “What?”
“He took it from a family member who was the original thief. He was probably hoping to get the attention off him by passing the necklace on, but it didn’t work. I don’t know for sure, but my guess is his relative found out, and he paid the price.”
“How do you know that?”
“Remy realized the man had disappeared, and tonight, one of our men received confirmation of his death.”
“Do they know you have the necklace now?”
Lance shrugged. “We don’t know. That’s why you’re staying here under my protection until this is all sorted out.”
My mind whirled. Things like this happened in movies and books, not in real life. “How do you sort something like this out?”
“You really don’t want to know that.”
I imagined it involved murder and possibly some gruesome torture, so maybe I didn’t want the details. “What will stop these people from coming after us? Do they want the necklace back? Will they still want revenge if they get it?”
“We have to convince them that revenge will be too difficult and costly for them.”
Just how powerful were the Theriots? “Will they buy that?”
“We’ll find a way to make them.”
He didn’t sound as sure as I wanted him to. How had someone involved in this gotten into the library without me noticing? Of course Remington had been a patron, and I hadn’t known how dangerous he was at first. I would still have barred him from the library even if I had. Just because he’s a mob boss doesn’t mean he gets to put his hands all over rare materials.
“What are you thinking about?” Lance’s lip was quirked up like he was fighting a smile.
“Nothing.”
Lance dropped several pieces of toast onto a grill pan and then turned to me with raised brows.
“Fine, I was thinking about your brother.”
“What about him?”
His voice was strained. Was he jealous? No way. “How much of an arrogant asshole he was when he came into the library.”
Lance laughed, and I loved the sound. It was the most relaxed I’d seen him except for the moment when he’d… No, don’t think about that. I didn’t need to be sitting there with a hard-on.