“Grace.” Tristan’s voice came through the phone, gentler than mine but just as decisive. “This isn’t about luxury. It’s about security. No customs lines, no chance of the egg getting flagged by security and raising way too many questions, and no opportunity for anyone to follow you.”
She glanced at the velvet bag in her hands. “I can’t afford to pay for?—”
“You’re not paying anything,” I said. If Tristan was insisting on the jet, he’d taken the price into account.
“Are you going to be working with Tristan’s company?” she asked.
“No.”
“He’s too good for us,” Tristan said with a laugh designed to break the tension. “Consider the flight payment for letting us use The Velvet Bean as our unofficial meeting spot until the office is ready.”
“This is ridiculous.” She blinked rapidly and scoffed. “I can’t?—”
“I’ll call you with the details,” Tristan interrupted.
Before she could protest again, I said, “I’ve got five days. No more.”
White Spring Security wouldn’t wait forever. They hadn’t formally offered me a position yet, but if I didn’t show up for those meetings, the opportunity to work with them was over.
“I hear you. Talk to you both soon.” Tristan hung up, and I pocketed my phone.
“You know what? This will still be great.” Grace smoothed a strand of hair, offering a forced smile. “I can still visit some museums while I’m there, and I’ll have company.”
“Pack your things.” I held the shoebox toward her, and she put the egg inside. “You can’t stay here tonight.”
She stood, taking the box with her. “Are you always like this?”
“Like what?” What was it my ex had said? Paranoid? Overbearing?
“So... demanding.” She gestured at me vaguely. “We only met yesterday, and you’re telling me what to do, like you’re in charge of my life.”
“If you had any sense of self-preservation, that egg would be in a safe deposit box.” I crossed my arms, in part to stop myself from pointing at her. “Two different men tracked you down at your café the day before you head overseas with one of the most sought-after antiquities in the world. If you don’t understand the risk you’re facing, I honestly don’t know how else to word it.”
She took a half-step back.
Shit. That was too far.
“I mean…” Put me up against a dozen insurgents, and I was your guy. But one woman who was shrinking in front of my eyes? I clasped a hand around the back of my neck, as if that could calm my last frayed nerve. “I mean, it would be best if you stayed with Tristan for another night.”
She opened her mouth, as though she had any fight left in her, but stopped.
“I’ll call the cops to swing by here and get their opinion. When they’re done, we can drive over to Tristan and Isabella’s.”
“Okay,” she said quietly. “Another night with Izzy would be fun anyway.”
Score one for me. She’d pushed back, but at least I’d gotten through to her about the danger. That would make keeping her safe a lot easier. And keeping her safe was all that mattered.Allthat mattered—regardless of how green her eyes were or how her smile lit up her whole face.
Chapter 9
Grace
I’d been staringat Isabella’s guest room ceiling for what felt like hours. Images of strange men played on a loop in my imagination. I could practically see them breaking into my apartment, rifling through my things, and touching my jewelry box.
Garrett’s words echoed in my head:‘If you don’t understand the risk you’re facing, I honestly don’t know how else to word it.’
He was overreacting. I wasn’t in danger, and I didn’t need an escort to London.
But a private jet and spending the week with a sexy, hot guy like him? That wouldn’t be so bad, would it, Grace?
