His eyes narrow, and he straightens to his full height. “There are more pieces to the puzzle, but yes. This box was believed to have been in the same shipment as the missing jewels. I think the man who took this box also stole the treasure.”
“That’s quite the hypothesis.” I rock back on my heels. “I have a question. If the Winthrops didn’t know about this box, then how did Scarlett end up with it?”
He chews on his bottom lip before answering. “She stole it.”
I knew the box was once stolen from a museum in Atlanta, but he really expects me to believe thatScarlettis the one who took it? The lovable, gorgeous, and talented icon of multiple nations? He’s kidding, right? I can read between the subtext. He stole it then gifted it to her so he wouldn’t be caught red-handed. Because that’s the kind of man he is deep down. Not a do-gooder. That side is an act—a part he’s playing to get me to trust him.
“I have a grand idea,” Liam says, tapping his chin. “How about you and I search for the treasure together?”
No way am I going treasure hunting with this man.
“You’ve been fed lies. This is just a box.” I stand, gripping the crystal box in my hands.
His eyes bore into mine. “Do you know something I don’t?”
I roll my eyes with a heavy sigh. “I know nothing. I am just more in tune with reality. People don’t find lost treasures, Liam. There’s no map, no maze to follow. It’s all a myth meant to fool idiots like you.”
He flinches. I almost feel bad I’m destroying his very belief system. But at some point, a child needs to learn that Santa isn’t real. I step closer, poking him in the chest. “If a treasure like that existed, it would have been found by someone far smarter than you.”
A smile teases his lips, and it angers me he finds it humorous when I’m scolding him.
“Then I guess I shall have to prove how smart I am.” He snatches my finger and pulls it to his lips, laying a kiss on my fingertip before I can yank it away.
It’s by far the weirdest thing someone has ever done, yet my heart rate spikes uncontrollably.
“What. Was. That?” I growl.
“Easy there, feisty. It’s called affection. I’m sorry you’ve never experienced it before.”
I throw my fist at his face but he easily blocks it.
“We’ll work on how you show yours. Come on, I’ve got a plan.”
I don’t respond but follow him—begrudgingly—into the main living space, fifty percent of which is covered in computer screens and giant towers alive and glowing. It looks like he could launch a rocket from this rat hole.
Liam sits in the only chair in front of the wall of computers. “I hacked into the Winthrops’ home network while you were asleep in the cab and discovered they’re attending a gala at the Lang palace in two days. We will intercept them there with the ring.”
Something about that sounds fishy. I’m willing to bet he knew thisbeforewe even left his apartment. Before I discovered the box was a fake. He had a backup plan. Or maybe this was the original plan.
I rub my temples. The man is messing with my head.
“The gala isn’t for two days. What are we going to do until then?” I can literally feel my career as an FBI agent slipping away. I may be able to convince the bureau I was kidnapped, but if I’m seen walking around, clearly not detained, for aweek, they aren’t going to believe me.
Liam leans back in the chair, bringing his hands behind his head and grinning. “I’m open to suggestions. Just me and you… The possibilities are endless.”
I walk past him, and shove down on the back of his chair, sending him and his ridiculousness to the ground.
He groans as he rights himself and stands beside me. “That wasn’t nice.”
I shrug. “I never found being nice beneficial.”
“That explains some things.” He goes back to the computer and presses a button. A projector lights the wall in front of me. “I guess it’s a good thing I came up with an excellent plan to waste our time. We are going to find the King’s lost treasure.”
He’s utterly serious. On the wall is every clue he’s pieced together about this elusive treasure, along with a map filled with possible locations. Forty-two to be exact. I’m a quick counter.
“You think it could be buried beneath the Louvre?” I laugh. He’s absolutely delusional.
He screws up his nose then clicks a couple keys and the X over the Louvre disappears. “Not anymore.”