Page 20 of The Scarab's Game

“Not aproblem.” He returned to the room, so I followed him. “My goal is to find the stolen scarab and negotiate the best possible price to return it. Getting worked up doesn’t help anything.”

That made sense.

“Food?” He pointed to where he’d placed my laptop bag on a chair by the door. “Or are you going to work?”

“Food’s probably a good idea.” I dropped onto the edge of the bed.So tired.More tired than I’d realized. “But I think sleep’s what I need more.”

“Understandable.” He let out a sigh. “But listen—if, when you wake up, you decide you’d rather go home than stay here, we’ll arrange for your flight home. This can be a one-night deal.”

My stomach clenched at the idea of a one-night anything with Emmett. “Thanks. I’ll think about it.”

He stared at me for a beat, as though he was about to say something. Instead of words, he tipped his invisible hat and headed for the door. He paused and said over his shoulder, “I’ll keep my door open. If you need anything, you come get me.”

“I will.”

“I’ll keep you safe.”

I know.

Before he left, I stopped him. “Did you tell Scarlett?”

“About your room? Or about”—he turned to me, waving a finger between us—“you staying with me?”

If he’d told her about any of it, she would have called. “Either one?”

He pursed his lips, and I almost combusted. They were full and so kissable, framed by his short beard. The way he inhaled, his broad chest swelled. Those clever eyes never left me.

Calm down, girl.

“I thought about it. But you’re a grown woman, and it’s not my information to share.”

“Thanks for that, too.”

He gave me one last smile before vanishing.

I collapsed onto the bed and forced out an extra-long breath. God. I was going to be sleeping one room away from Emmett.

You should call Scar.

And say what?‘Hey Scar, I’m staying in Em’s room for the week. Nah, nothing’s going on, honest!’

If I told her about the break-in, she’d flip out. I’d break down—like I’d been working very hard not to do—and then it would be one thing after another until I confessed about Simon. It wasn’tthe right time. Not yet. When I got home, I could sit with her and have the cry I needed. For now, I had to be strong.

Focus on the job at hand—identify if the Constable was a fake, and if not, clean it.

A white chandelier with dozens of crystals hung from an ornate boss on the ceiling. My original room had a similar one, which I’d stared at last night after dinner in the Rose Salon with the De Rosas. If I only stared at the ceiling, I might have believed everything was the same as before I went to the Casino last night.

My dream trip was turning into a nightmare.

What if I was wrong? Had I been in such a hurry I simply put the sketchbook into my bag upside down? When I’d suggested that to Jayce, she looked at Drew, who shook his head.

I didn’t know Jayce well, other than that she was a former gymnast, full of energy, and she talked fast. Scarlett had told me about Drew, their new hire, who broughtunique skillsto the team. No idea what she’d meant other than he excelled at containing Jayce.

Why are you staring at the ceiling when you should be admiring the view?

I rolled my head to look outside.

You’re tired. You should take a nap.