8. Galahad #2
I reassembled the egg, stowing it in its velvet bag. “I think most of the privately held Imperial Eggs are owned by Russian oligarchs. They’re obsessive collectors.”
“How do you—” She dragged the bag across the table. “Do you think that’s who those guys at my shop work for? Some Russian billionaire?”
“Could be.” I retook my seat, rather than continuing to tower over her and, no doubt, stress her out even more. “And they’re not known for playing nice.”
Yeah, comments like that won’t stress her out, either.
She fiddled with the bag and the scarf, as if the activity calmed her nerves. “Okay, so I need to be careful. I can be careful.”
“You need an escort for this trip,” Tristan said firmly.
I scanned her apartment, identifying the risk points.
The windows, the flimsy locks, the isolated bedroom.
Too many weak points. And then there was Grace herself.
Sure, I barely knew her, but she wore her hopeless optimism on her sleeve, which meant she was completely unprepared for what she was walking into.
“Arthur’s heading to Monaco with Merlin tomorrow, so he’s out,” Tristan said. “I need to hold down the fort here while he’s gone. Lance could?—”
“No.” The word came out sharper than I’d intended. Lance was a liability when it came to beautiful women. The last thing Grace needed was a love-struck Romeo following her around London.
Without missing a beat, Tristan dryly said, “That leaves you, Galahad.”
Fuck. White Spring was expecting me. This career move was important. “I’ve got meetings in DC.”
“Our jet’s being delivered today for Arthur’s Monaco trip. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind dropping you off in London and bringing you back, or flying you directly to DC. Get Grace to London and back safely, and you’ll be in DC in plenty of time for your meetings.”
I looked at Grace, then back at the phone.
The logical part of my brain said to walk away.
This wasn’t my problem. But Grace’s eyes reminded me of my mother.
Afraid but trying to hide it. Utterly unprepared for what was facing her.
Like she was a target for bigger men who’d treat her as an obstacle rather than a person.
“Fine,” I all but grunted.
“Thanks,” Tristan said, relief evident in his voice. He obviously cared for this woman. “I’ll call Arthur, brief him on the situation.”
“Wait.” Grace held up her hands. “Do I get a vote in this? I have a flight booked. I don’t need a private jet.”
“Cancel it,” I said.
“But—”
“Grace.” Tristan’s voice came through the phone, gentler than mine but just as decisive. “This isn’t about luxury. It’s about security. No customs lines, no chance of the egg getting flagged by security and raising way too many questions, and no opportunity for anyone to follow you.”
She glanced at the velvet bag in her hands. “I can’t afford to pay for?—”
“You’re not paying anything,” I said. If Tristan was insisting on the jet, he’d taken the price into account.
“Are you going to be working with Tristan’s company?” she asked.
“No.”
“He’s too good for us,” Tristan said with a laugh designed to break the tension. “Consider the flight payment for letting us use The Velvet Bean as our unofficial meeting spot until the office is ready.”
“This is ridiculous.” She blinked rapidly and scoffed. “I can’t?—”
“I’ll call you with the details,” Tristan interrupted.
Before she could protest again, I said, “I’ve got five days. No more.”
White Spring Security wouldn’t wait forever. They hadn’t formally offered me a position yet, but if I didn’t show up for those meetings, the opportunity to work with them was over.
“I hear you. Talk to you both soon.” Tristan hung up, and I pocketed my phone.
“You know what? This will still be great.” Grace smoothed a strand of hair, offering a forced smile. “I can still visit some museums while I’m there, and I’ll have company.”
“Pack your things.” I held the shoebox toward her, and she put the egg inside. “You can’t stay here tonight.”
She stood, taking the box with her. “Are you always like this?”
“Like what?” What was it my ex had said? Paranoid? Overbearing?
“So... demanding.” She gestured at me vaguely. “We only met yesterday, and you’re telling me what to do, like you’re in charge of my life.”
“If you had any sense of self-preservation, that egg would be in a safe deposit box.” I crossed my arms, in part to stop myself from pointing at her.
“Two different men tracked you down at your café the day before you head overseas with one of the most sought-after antiquities in the world. If you don’t understand the risk you’re facing, I honestly don’t know how else to word it. ”
She took a half-step back.
Shit. That was too far.
“I mean…” Put me up against a dozen insurgents, and I was your guy. But one woman who was shrinking in front of my eyes? I clasped a hand around the back of my neck, as if that could calm my last frayed nerve. “I mean, it would be best if you stayed with Tristan for another night.”
She opened her mouth, as though she had any fight left in her, but stopped.
“I’ll call the cops to swing by here and get their opinion. When they’re done, we can drive over to Tristan and Isabella’s.”
“Okay,” she said quietly. “Another night with Izzy would be fun anyway.”
Score one for me. She’d pushed back, but at least I’d gotten through to her about the danger. That would make keeping her safe a lot easier. And keeping her safe was all that mattered. All that mattered—regardless of how green her eyes were or how her smile lit up her whole face.