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He looked at a bird chirping high in the canopy. “When Cortez swept through Mexico, he commandeered more than just Aztec gold. He loaded boats full of Aztec treasures and sent them back to Spain. Including, according to legend, one twenty-five carat, rare red diamond known as ‘the red serpent.’ The gem of Chantico herself.”
Lauren’s hand drifted to her throat, but her eyes stayed locked on his. Finn figured she was as speechless as he’d been when Jake told him what he’d found, so he went on.
“The way the story goes, Chantico’s got quite a temper, and she doesn’t like thievery, especially when it involves something that belongs in Mexico. Several of those ships went down in hurricanes. Were never seen or heard from again. Treasure hunters have been scavenging sunken Spanish galleons in the Caribbean for decades, with no sign of the diamond. About two years ago, a guy made the find of a lifetime. A rare red diamond. Which historians quickly called the Red Devil.
“It sold at auction for some insane amount—talking millions and millions of dollars here—but before the treasure hunter could collect, he was killed in a car accident. The buyer had plans to take it out of Mexico, but he died in a freak boating accident before he could do that, and his son, who—after several death threats—was convinced the diamond was cursed, loaned it to the National History Museum of Mexico so it would be out of his possession.”
“Good Lord.”
“It gets better. Three weeks ago, the diamond was stolen from its display box in the museum. No one’s seen it since.”
Lauren was silent for a second and then said, ?
??You’re saying this is a diamond . . . not just a ruby?”
“I’m saying it’s possible, yeah.”
“And Javier stole it?”
“No. If this is the Red Devil from the stories, the Cárdenas Cartel stole it. Which is why they want it back so bad. My guess? Javier stole it from them. Why? Who knows. Maybe he wanted it for himself. Maybe he wanted to piss them off. Maybe he wanted to return it where it belonged. I don’t know. Bottom line . . . they killed him because of it.”
She looked down at the ground, her fingers still on the stone at her chest. “They knew he was with me. They must have figured he gave it to me.”
“Yeah.” That was his guess, too.
“My God, this isn’t about drugs after all. It’s about one cursed necklace.”
“Not cursed, Slim. Superstitions may run deep in this country, but that thing’s no more cursed than those shoes you’re wearing. It’s just a stone. Worth a lot of money. I told you before, everything comes down to money.”
“Not to me.Money’s not nearly as important as people think.” Her fingers slid up to the chain around her neck. “I shouldn’t be wearing this. I—”
He covered her hands with his own, brought hers down in front of her. “I think it’s safest right where it is. You’ve taken good care of it so far. Let’s not rock the boat, okay?”
Her eyes settled on his. “Do I sense a little superstition, Tierney ?”
The corner of his mouth curled up. He liked her, dammit. The more time he spent with her, the harder that fact was to deny. “I’m Irish, Slim. A little superstition comes with the blood. But that doesn’t mean I think things are doomed.”
“I like hearing that,” she said, her husky voice just above a whisper. “I really like hearing that.”
He looked from the gem to her brilliant blue eyes and had the strangest sensation they weren’t talking about the necklace anymore. An image of their bodies tangled in the sheets of last night’s bed slid through his mind, lighting up his blood and squeezing his chest so hard it hurt to draw breath.
She looked down the path. “So your friend . . . Archer? He can fly us out of here? Then what?”
Then he needed to get away from her before he did something stupid like forgot about all the rational reasons this thing between them would never work.
He dropped his hand, moved back. “Um . . . then we turn that stone over to the authorities and let them sort out the mess.”
She nodded, and he figured telling her the rest of it—that Jake had confirmed young Javier was planning to sell the stone to a rival cartel who believed it would grant them power and protection from the gods—was more than she needed to know. Let her go on thinking her friend had been trying to right a wrong and leave it at that.
They didn’t speak as they moved through the overgrown jungle, and Finn was glad. The longer he spent with the sexy supermodel, the more tangled his thoughts became.
He cleared a path as best he could, but vines and twigs snagged their clothing and scratched Lauren’s bare legs. The humidity made it hard to breathe. The thick foliage left all but what was directly in front of them hidden from view. What little light filtered down from above showcased vibrant greens, bright oranges, deep reds and golden yellows.
She didn’t complain, not about the heat or humidity or even the ridiculous orange flip-flops on her feet. And as they moved, Finn marveled at one more piece of Lauren Kauffman that just didn’t fit with her public persona. At this point, Sylvia would have been whining her ass off. The thought stilled his feet. No, by this point Sylvia would have been a blubbering, crying, moaning mess. If, that is, she’d ever been able to get off the roof of Palladium. Which he seriously doubted she ever could have done amid the chaos.
He flashed on Lauren throwing her precious Givenchys at those thugs on the roof. Coming to his rescue and saving his ass. A chuckle slipped from his lips.
“Something funny, Tierney?” Lauren stepped by him, taking the lead on the small path he’d found about a quarter mile back. It wasn’t wide, but at least following it meant they didn’t have to blaze their own trail.
