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It’s for your own good.
That heat boiled over into her words. ‘Your ego is utterly inconceivable,’ she growled at him. ‘What on earth would you know about what is good for me? You knownothingabout me. And yet you think you have the right to decide what is “good” for me?’
He stared at her, all mulish stubbornness, but she thought she had struck a chink in his determination. Until he replied.
‘Did he ever tell you of the other historical academics whose careers were wrecked on the shores of this particular pirate story?’ Mateo asked. ‘Do you know the name Professor Wheller or Kritsen?’ It was clear that the names meant nothing to her. ‘They were the first two who believed they could prove that Princess Isabella of Iondorra was Loriella Desaparecer. And the reason you’ve never heard of them? Because they were blacklisted from academia. Men have been driven mad trying to find the Desaparecer treasure.’
‘I am not a man,’ she replied hotly. ‘And I amnotlooking for the treasure.’
‘I don’t believe you,’ Mateo replied. And he didn’t. How many times had he heard from his father that it wasn’t about the treasure? That it was about history and uncovering the truth, about giving people ‘their place’ in the story of the past, not the one assigned to them by the victors? And yet still his father had chased the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow as if finding it would somehow make up for the fact he’d lost his wife and son to his madness.
Mateo ground his teeth together. So, no. He knew it was overbearing, and an inconceivable arrogance that Henri would be proud of, but he could not help Evelyn Edwards throw her career and whatever else she had away on a search that she had only pursued because of his father.
‘I don’t care if you have the backing of the King of England—’
She reared back, shock exploding in her gaze before she tried to blink it away from her eyes. He had strayed too close to the truth. He must have.
‘You’vegotto be kidding me?’ he groaned, realising thatsomeonehad to be backing this wild goose chase.
‘I don’t know what you think is going on but—’
‘Enough. I don’t want to know and I don’t care. Whatever damage you want to do to your reputation from here on in, you do without my help.’
She glared at him. A thousand furies all spitting hell and something in him roared in delight. He felt it, the passion and the heat, boiling the surface of her outrage, until it came to a screeching halt that he felt shockingly jarred by.
She nodded. ‘Okay,’ Evelyn said, her shoulders slumped, and he had to stop himself from reaching out to her in concern. ‘I’m sorry for ruining your birthday. This clearly wasn’t what you had in mind,’ she said.
Reeling from the sudden about turn, he was so busy trying to find his feet that she spun on her heel and left him alone in his room with the taste of citrus still on his tongue. He reached for the glass of whisky and knocked back the last mouthful, hoping that the burn would erase the last trace of Evelyn Edwards.
Refusing to acknowledge the spool of disappointment that unwound in his chest, he rested his gaze on the bookshelf where he’d placed his father’s notebook.
Theemptyspace where he’d placed his father’s notebook.
That little thief.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘YOUARRIVEDSAFELY?’
‘Yes, Your Majesty.’
‘And the hotel is to your liking?’
‘More than, Your Majesty. It’s the nicest room I’ve ever stayed in. I can’t thank you enough,’ Evie replied sincerely.
Already Queen Sofia had shown more concern over her preferences than her adoptive parents. It wasn’t, Are you at the hotel? but, Do you like it? Not, Did you arrive? but, Did you arrive there safely?
‘I believe of the two of us,’ the Queen said through the phone speaker, ‘it is you that needs to be thanked. Did you get what you needed from Spain?’
Did she?
Evie had come to believe that she got a lot more than she’d bargained for.
‘Yes, Your Majesty. I got the Professor’s notebook.’
‘And it will help you ascertain the provenance of the octant?’
‘Yes, ma’am. The auction is this evening and I will let you know the moment it’s done.’
