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Falcon huffed out a laugh. “Well, maybe I should have been dating MJ, then.”
“She’s a lesbian. Woulda kicked your ass for even making a move on her,” I teased. “She’s a tough bitch.”
“She’s your favorite.”
It warmed my chest to hear him say it because even though it was probably more of a guess, it still showed he knew something about me, and more than that… he cared.
“She is. Mostly because she calls me on my bullshit more than anyone else. But I love them all.” I paused. “I… I miss them a lot.”
Falcon’s arms came around me and squeezed. “Then why stay in Paris? Why pursue this revenge game when you have so many people who love you back in Texas?”
“I told you I’d already finished. The only item left on the list was the crown. And there was no way I was going to get to it with live guards standing there 24/7.”
“So you meant it when you said you’d retired?” Falcon asked.
I nodded. “Until a certain someone begged me to steal something for him. And I’m a sucker for a pretty face.” I batted my eyelashes at him.
Falcon groaned. “That’s me. The art heist kingpin.”
“Hey, you’re planning a heist right now. If you think I’m ever going to let you forget it, you’re mistaken. It’s the highlight of my career.”
“Shut up,” Falcon grumbled, leaning in and nuzzling my neck. “I’m on the side of right.”
“Pfft. You’re on the side of the country too scared to admit to its people it lost a beloved piece of its history.”
Falcon’s teeth nipped the skin where my neck met my shoulder, giving me an instant hard-on. “I mean against your asshole ex-boyfriend,” he said into my skin.
I shivered. “So, you’re claiming to be better than a Hungarian crime boss. Hm, I’m impressed. You set a high bar.”
I was losing focus to the feel of him, the need for him.
“King?” he asked, reaching down to squeeze my ass cheeks before sliding a finger between them.
“Hmm?”
“Stop talking.”
So I did.
Morning came way too soon after a night spent pressed up against Falcon’s naked body like a second skin. I’d curled around him and fallen asleep instantly, feeling like I was exactly where I was meant to be.
Regardless of whether that was true or not, my crush on him deepening, and I knew it was going to be ten times harder to hide what was going on between the two of us from the rest of the team. I simply wasn’t that good of an actor.
And I was having feelings. Stupid, vulnerable-making feelings.
So I did the mature thing and acted like I barely knew the guy. I took a seat at the table and got straight to work, not even realizing I hadn’t even poured a cup of coffee yet.
We went over everything we had learned at the gala, and I was surprised to hear the details of Falcon’s conversation with Elek. I couldn’t even picture the two men together. Something about that made my stomach twist. Like… clash of the titans or something.
When Falcon questioned whether or not I thought Elek’s interest in his artwork was genuine, I nodded. “Yeah, he wouldn’t be able to resist. He doesn’t give people enough credit, and he wouldn’t assume to double-cross him. I’m sure he can’t help but think about how easy it will be to get his hands on your artwork. But I guess we’ll know more when and if he calls about dinner.”
I stood up to finally pour a cup of coffee, letting the familiar smell calm me down. Linney was talking to herself under her breath as she searched through a stack of papers on the table.
“Basically, we’ll need to make it look like two rich blokes from the States are on holiday here. Which means…” she muttered, finding the paper she was looking for. “Aha! Found it. Here is the name of a caterer we can use on short notice. I’ll go ahead and get everything ready.”
I could tell Mouse was still nervous, but he was a diligent worker, so he remained focused on the task ahead. “I’ll flesh out the backstory of our fake relationship and my own alias.”
Ziv nodded. “I’ve got your back on that one, Mouse. I can help get everything put online for social media accounts and whatnot. Just give me a name when you have it.”
I was impressed with Falcon’s team. They worked together flawlessly, and each seemed to know their role. Falcon clearly wasn’t a micromanager, since he didn’t even raise his head from his own computer when all of them began marking things off the list.
Once everyone was working, I realized that I was the one completely in charge of the heist itself. Not that it came as a surprise to me, but it was still strange to think of this FBI team leaving me purposefully in charge of a solo art heist. How did they know I could be trusted? How in the world could they be sure I wouldn’t take off with the crown?
