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Ryzen left a little over an hour later. I’d thought I was going to get away with spending the night drinking in my pajamas in my room, but he was adamant that I go to the art auction to make “us” look good. He even said I could bid on anything I wanted, but unless they had a giant-sized painting of a dildo, I didn’t think I would buy much.
An hour later I was walking up the steps to the ballroom and feeling a little like Cinderella. Well, a sluttier version of her. I wasn’t sure if the red dress I had chosen was art auction-appropriate, but after a glass of wine, I decided I didn’t care if it was.
I waved at Covington and his wife as soon as I walked in. They were the only ones who needed to see me here. Hewie was standing next to a plant touching its leaves, so I went in the opposite direction. Don’t get me wrong, the guy was sweet, but I was trying to dip in and out as fast as possible, and he really liked to talk your ear off. The SNM triplets were sitting at one of the round tables, and when I walked by, all three of them nodded at me. I wondered if they’d ever had a threesome—er, foursome? I bet they had. They looked the kinky type.
I walked through the rows of tables, nodding and smiling at the familiar faces. After ten minutes, I figured I had done what I came here to do. I headed towards the exit door to the side, but turned on my heel when I saw Penelope sitting at the table next to it. If anyone was going to narc on me for leaving, it was definitely going to be her. I walked against the wall until I was standing next to the bar, and a man sitting there caught my attention.
He was big, like massively huge, and took up so much space. There was something familiar about him I couldn’t place. He turned and looked at me then, a smile spreading across his face. “Hey, you!”
“Um, hi.” I couldn’t help but return his smile. He didn’t look drunk. Maybe he was just a nice guy.
“Raided any more tombs lately?” He chuckled and signaled the bartender over. He ordered two shots of whisky and slid the server a hundred-dollar bill.
I scrunched up my nose. “I’m sorry, what?” OK, maybe he was drunk, but who was I to judge? He handed me the other shot and clinked his glass against mine. We both threw our heads back, downing the drink.
“Lara Croft, right? Halloween? My brother said you were here, but I almost didn’t recognize you without the knife in your garter.” He handed me another shot.
I stared at him, frozen, while he kept chuckling.
If this was… then that meant… then Cian… My mind raced a million miles a minute.
Cian had known who I was the entire time.
Oh, crap.
Chapter Eleven
There were some things that were certain in my life. First, whenever I had any type of problem, no matter how big or small, I could always count on Juliet. Second, powdered peanut butter was superior to regular peanut butter. I would fight to the death on that one. Third, just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, they would.
Thus, when I planned on avoiding Cian the rest of the trip, I ended up blindfolded next to him, holding on for dear life in the back of a golf cart going at least forty down a dirt road on Covington’s property.
This didn’t seem like the beginning of a scavenger hunt; this was more like someHunger Gamesbullshit, and I was more than ready to go home.
Cian’s thigh was pressed against mine, burning into me. OK, maybe burning is a bit overdramatic. But I had every right to be. All I wanted to do was sleep in and nurse my hangover, but Lorraine had insisted I would miss out on all the fun if I didn’t participate in the family scavenger hunt. I had politely declined, and not more than three minutes after that, Ryzen had called me. She’d ratted me out. Unbelievable. I’d thought we women were sticking together, but she hadn’t gotten that memo.
The cart came to a bouncing halt and footsteps crunched across the gravel in my direction. Someone tugged me off the back of the cart and stuck a paper in my hands. Only when the sound of the cart started to fade did I take off my blindfold.
I looked around to evaluate our surroundings. God knew how far we were from the main house, and being blindfolded the entire ride had really messed up my sense of direction. We stood at the bottom of a steep hill. Except for the dirt path we’d ridden in on, we were surrounded by trees so thick and tall, you could barely see ten feet in front of you. The sound of flowing water was coming from just beyond where I could see.
Cian stood in front of me with our shared backpack in one hand and our water jug in the other. Of course, he didn’t look bothered or out of place. His shirt clung to him like a second skin, and I wiped the side of my mouth to make sure I wasn’t drooling. Why did he have to look so damn good? It wasn’t fair.
He snapped his fingers in front of my face, and I jerked my head back at the intrusion. “You with me, Nova? I think we should go up this hill. We’ll get a better view.”
I gazed in the direction he pointed and groaned. The quote-unquote “hill” was steep as fuck, and had I known we were going to end up in a scene fromJumanji, I might have worn something more comfortable than blue Converse. I stuffed the map into the back pocket of my shorts and nodded. “Let’s do it.”
Halfway up the hill, my calves were on actual fire. This should be illegal. I should sue the Covingtons for emotional damage. Cian was five feet in front of me, stopping every so often to look back and watch me. He hadn’t even broken a sweat yet.
“You want to jump on my back?” he asked.
My legs quivered, and it wasn’t just from the hiking. I cleared my throat and grabbed a tree branch for balance. “Well, I left my saddle and bucket of carrots back at the house, so I’ll have to pass this time.”
He threw his head back and let out a thunderous laugh, and my heart did that double-pounding thing it liked to do when I was near him.
A little over ten minutes later, we were at the top of the hill. The trees weren’t as thick, and the sun was blasting us like a laser beam. Directly in front of us was a furious flowing stream that was about fifteen feet wide, and then a lot of nothing. Cian lifted the bottom of his shirt up and wiped his forehead, exposing his stomach and part of his tattoo. “What does the map say?”
Map? Oh, yes, the map. Not hard flexed muscles, but the map. Focus, you Jezebel.I unrolled it and moved closer to him so he could see.
Search far and wide, by any measure,
