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That rang a bell. But also reminded me how little I knew. My brain spun, trying to reframe the situation to fit this new information. “And the fingerprints you have for Elek? How do you have his and not Demitri’s?”
Falcon shook his head. “Demitri is a Greek national. His prints aren’t in any file I have access to, and it would have been a big deal if I’d requested them from Greece’s national intelligence.”
I slumped in the leather seat. “I’m surprised your hacker friend couldn’t have gotten them,” I muttered.
“He could have. But if he’d been caught, it would have been a disaster. Why are you acting grumpy all of a sudden? I thought that was my job.”
He was trying to jolly me. It didn’t work.
“I’m annoyed. It’s one more reminder that I’m not actually a member of this fucking team. There’s shit you’re not telling me. At every turn I learn something new that changes things.”
Falcon turned into the driveway of our rental. “How does this change anything?”
As soon as he put the car in park, I grabbed his shirtfront. “Because it means I don’t have immunity with anyone but the US. Did that even occur to you?”
I could tell by the look in his eyes it had.
“Fuck,” I spat, pushing him away and turning to get out of the car. “This was such a fucking mistake. God, I knew it.”
Instead of heading to the house, I strode in the direction of the cliffs again. I needed room to think. When I heard Falcon’s footsteps behind me, I turned to confront him.
“Not this time,” I barked at him. “Don’t.”
He stood and stared at me. I could tell he was torn between doing what I asked and doing what his heart told him I truly needed.
I let out a breath and walked up to him, taking his face in my hands. “Please just let me think for a little while. That… op wasn’t easy for me. And I just…”
Falcon’s smile was easy, but his eyes were still intense. “Want to be fucked face-first into the mattress?”
I snorted. “That too. But first I need to take a walk. By myself.”
Falcon nodded and then clenched his teeth for a bit before saying something he looked like he wanted to take back immediately. “Please don’t leave.”
My heart squeezed in my chest. I wanted so badly to think he wanted me to stay because he had feelings for me. But the rational part of my brain knew he needed me to stay for the success of this operation. And his career was riding on that. He may have liked me fine, but his career was everything to him. His reputation in the FBI would always take precedence.
I knew what my role was here.
“I’m not leaving,” I assured him. “I promise.”
Falcon stepped closer and slid his arms around me. I was in danger of becoming addicted to the feeling of him holding me like that. Part of me wondered if that was the point. He sure had an easy way of making me want to stay.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “And you’re wrong.” He leaned in to kiss me. It was sweet and all consuming. There was no hint of subterfuge or insincerity in the way he danced his lips along mine, the way his tongue darted in to taste me. This was the true Dirk Falcon. And while I wasn’t sure whether or not I could trust him to keep me out of prison, I knew damned well I could trust that kiss.
The man had feelings for me the way I was quickly developing them for him.
And in some ways, that was more terrifying than the thought of prison. Because feelings or not, I knew there wasn’t a future in which FBI agent Dirk Falcon could build a life with the notorious art thief Le Chaton.
He pulled away and turned, briskly walking back to the house and leaving me breathless and panting in the cold night air. After a few beats, I turned in the opposite direction and continued my walk to the cliffs.
My fingers itched with the desire to race back over to the gala and peel that fucking painting off the wall. I felt like an addict. This was one of the moments I’d feared when I’d sworn off stealing art anymore.
It wasn’t that easy. Not when there were still wrongs to right.
But there would always be stolen artwork in the world. I needed a distraction.
I pulled out my cell phone and dialed MJ. It should be lunchtime in California. She’d already sent me a million pictures of the wedding and the crazy drunken reception that lasted well into the night. They’d all had so much fun, they’d decided to stay a little longer in Napa.
“Hey, baby brother,” she said when the call went through. The familiar sound of her voice made something in me relax.
