Page 73 of The Scarab's Game
I tried to hug her, reassuring her that I was doing all of this because I cared, but she backed away.
“We should go.” Before moving, I scanned the yacht club. Had Noah seen Jenn? Was he watching us now? “It’s a short walk, but we’ll cab it.”
We walked out of the garden and into a parking lot, where a car picked us up, and we rode in silence. So much had changed in her life in the past hour—what could I possibly say to make any of it better?
Nothing, Emmett. Except maybe a little truth.
As we climbed the edge of the Rocher, all of Monte Carlo was on display from our elevated vantage point.
Jenn stared out the window, taking in the view. The Monte Carlo Casino and our hotel were practically invisible betweenthe relentless tide of high-rises, towering apartment blocks, and steel facades. “Hard to believe I can see the entire country from here.”
“Almost forty thousand people in less than one square mile.” The mountains framed the edges of the tiny country, giving them little space to expand. So they built into the water, creating land where there had once been sea, each new landmass covered in buildings that blocked out the vista from those behind.
The car made a turn into the old town, cutting off the view of anything other than the surrounding buildings.
Jenn turned to me. “What’s at this casino?”
I raised my voice, making it clear I was speaking to the driver. “Ici, s’il vous plaît.”
He nodded at me in the rearview mirror and pulled off to the side. He would have looped the entire Rocher to get to the Oceanographic Museum, while Jenn and I could cut between buildings to arrive in under a minute.
I paid the driver, and we were on the move again. “Since talking to Jean-Philippe about the scarab failed, we’ll try the auction. I’m hoping we can buy it outright, but failing that, buy it from whoever wins. Either way, I have a contact who can give me more information.”
Jenn frowned, watching her feet instead of looking at me. “But you said it was stolen. How can they auction it?”
“Welcome to the world of high-end art theft.” The irony wasn’t lost on me—how often were we stealing those same pieces right back? “Some bidders will be remote and anonymous, but the auction coordinator will get a commission from the sale and as a broker if it comes to that. They might help for the right price.”
I didn’t tell her we were actually scouting the location. If our first two plans didn’t work, Jayce would need to sneak in andsteal the scarab. The secret tunnel out of the Casino would be her best bet to escape unseen.
Jenn was quiet momentarily, then said softly, “I can’t believe Noah’s involved in all this.”
I glanced at her, noting how her back was hunched, telling me more about her feelings than the sad note in her voice. It was a far cry from her initial anger after seeing Noah. “I’m sorry, Jenn. I know you two were close.”
She shook her head, her hair dancing as a light breeze caught it. “I thought I knew him. And now Dante… What am I supposed to think anymore?”
“About Dante?”
Jenn sighed. “I want to believe he’s innocent and didn’t know about the fake painting. But why bring me here to clean it?”
Dante might have been as innocent as she wanted to believe. More likely, Noah was behind all of it, including the break-in at her hotel room. But why?
“Men like him are used to getting what they want.”Careful. Don’t hurt her more. “They can be very charming and persuasive when it suits them.”
“You think he’s using me?”
If I said yes, that might have broken her. “I’m just saying keep your eyes open.”
She was quiet again as we walked. We switched to single file to avoid being bowled over by a tour group, all wearing their cruise ship stickers. Once we’d passed them, she said, “I feel so stupid, Emmett. Like I’ve been played this whole time.”
I stopped us at a crosswalk. The urge to pull her close, to shield her from the world, was almost overwhelming. “You’re not stupid. These guys are professionals at manipulation. You couldn’t have known.”
Jenn’s eyes finally met mine again. The sun glinted in their blue depths, and I was immediately dragged back to last night,when we stood like this in the sitting room. Her in her robe, wet hair and all. She was in pain, and all I was thinking about again was kissing her. “How do I know who to trust now?”
Kissing her would be a bad idea. Right? “Trust your instincts. And remember—I’ve got your back, no matter what.”
She gave me a small smile, a ghost of her usual radiance. “Thanks.”
We waited for a pair of scooters to pass and crossed toward the Oceanographic Museum. I needed to focus on the mission. But I couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to have her look at me the way she had last night in the sitting room.