6. Jenn

Chapter 6

Jenn

Still no call from Aunt Penny’s contact. It was four o’clock in Monte Carlo but only ten a.m. in the Eastern time zone. Maybe his office was just opening?

“Were they good?” asked Emmett.

“What?”

He nudged the empty bag in my hand. “The macarons. Did you taste them at all?”

I peered into the empty bag. I hadn’t even realized I’d eaten them, let alone tasted them. “Of course. They were delicious.”

The smeared paint on the Constable played on a loop in my brain. The hotel lobby’s marble floors, statuary, and decorated ceiling had barely registered. Same as the sights and sounds of the city.

Plus, my macarons.

Emmett had walked by my side the entire time in silence. Rare for him.

To be honest, he tried talking to me a few times, but I was poor company.

I may have been relatively new as an art restorer, but I knew how to follow instructions. God, my entire job was about following instructions. I hadn’t missed anything or pulled the wrong materials. It was acetone and distilled water, which I mixed to exactly sixty percent dilution, per the conservator’s notes. My work had been perfect. I was sure of it.

Something else was going on.

We walked through the white-paneled hallway inside the hotel, along the lush cream and light brown carpet. I had a fourth-floor room with a small balcony overlooking a beautiful courtyard at the center of the hotel.

“You don’t need to escort me to my doorstep.” I’d told Dante I was going to take my laptop somewhere to sit and think. The truth was, I’d likely take it as far as my balcony, then stare at my phone until it rang.

We passed three doors before Emmett spoke again. “Are you upset about something?”

Something? Try everything. “I’m fine.”

His right eyebrow cocked, the same way Scar’s did when I wasn’t telling the whole story.

But I wasn’t ready to confess the niggling doubt in the back of my brain that I’d screwed up—or my suspicion the painting might not be genuine. I slowed as we approached my door, pulling my room key out of my shoulder bag. “Strange.”

“What’s that?” He stopped just behind me as though he were going to see me all the way into my room.

I shook my head, trying to clear it, then pointed at the Do Not Disturb door hanger. “I was sure I’d put it on for housekeeping this?—”

Emmett was in front of me with my room key in his hand before I finished. “Are you sure?”

“I…” My hand hung in the air, as confused about what to do as my brain. “Maybe?”

He held up a finger and pressed his ear to the door. Emmett was normally smooth lines—smiles, crinkled eyes, casual movements. But now? He was sharp angles. He reminded me more of our friend Rav than his usual self.

I glanced around, trying to be subtle in case someone was watching his bizarre behavior. A lump formed slowly in my throat. “You’re being weird.”

His finger remained up, and he closed his eyes.

The lump in my throat grew. What was going on?

After another minute, he opened his eyes. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Why would you?—”

“Security’s tight here, but—” He straightened, the angles shifting back to smooth lines and a lopsided smile. “I was at a hotel in Berlin once, and they accidentally gave a duplicate of my room key to someone else.”

“Seriously?”

Or was he changing the subject?

“That’s why I always use the safety lock.” He chuckled, but it didn’t calm the hairs at my nape, all standing at attention. “Let me go in ahead of you. You know, in case someone’s sleeping in your bed, and they get a little freaked out.”

“Goldilocks?”

He tucked a lock of hair—one that kept falling out of my bun—behind my ear. “You’re the only Goldilocks here. I want to be sure there are no bears inside.”

“I could just be mistaken about the door hanger.” If I didn’t know Emmett half as well as I did, I might have suspected he wanted into my room with me. But that ship had sailed a long, long time ago, and it would never sail again. “I don’t need a white knight.”

“Need? Of course not. But doesn’t every woman want one?”

I scoffed inwardly. If only I could convince myself to be attracted to one of those.

Dante acted like he might be one. I curled the top of the white bakery bag. I hadn’t tasted the damn macarons.

Emmett’s eyes crinkled. It was slight and brief, but I was sure of it. He turned to the door, waved the card across the lock, and whispered over his shoulder, “Keep your voice down.”

I was so creeped out. What was going on? This wasn’t about duplicate keys. And if he thought someone was inside, wouldn’t he have insisted we call security? Or at least Rav? Scarlett had told me he was in town with Emmett. “What are we?—”

The finger went up again, but he didn’t turn around to look at me. He walked slowly—no, he prowled—along the short hallway to my bedroom. At the bathroom and closet doors, he peered around corners like a detective in a movie. More intense, though. If he’d had a gun, I would have called him James Bond.

I wanted to ask what was going on and why he was acting like this, but the words lodged in my throat with that lump.

As he entered the bedroom, he held up a fist. Like soldiers did in movies. I froze.

He was spending too much time with Rav.

Or were there things I didn’t know about Emmett?

More secrets from the man my father muttered about every time he saw him?

I poked my head into the bathroom. It was still a mess. My toiletries bag lay open on the counter, two towels hung over the tub’s edge, and I’d left the mirror light on.

No, I’d turned that off. I was sure of it.

And my lipstick. It wasn’t sitting in the right spot in my bag.

Goosebumps skittered up and down my arms.

Were Emmett’s concerns valid? If housekeeping had been through the room, a few things out of place would make sense. But the towels were still lying there. Fresh ones should have been rolled up on the racks over the tub.

A figure appeared behind me, and I gasped, spinning to face Emmett, who was suddenly standing in the bathroom with me. I hadn’t heard him move. “Holy crap!”

Emmett put a finger to his lips as he hurried to me. He gripped my upper arms and leaned down so we were eye-to-eye. So close. He whispered, “Keep your volume down.”

I pressed a hand against my chest, trying to slow my lungs before I passed out. Instead of speaking, all I could do was nod. What the hell was going on? I was imagining things—that was the only answer.

Emmett drew closer. His lips brushed my ear, and he barely breathed, “Is there anything out of place?”

I nodded again.

“There’s no one in your room or on your balcony. There are no signs of forced entry. You’re safe here with me. Do you understand?”

I did the only thing I seemed capable of—I nodded.

“I want you to go through the rest of your hotel room. Pretend you’re coming back for your laptop exactly like you said you would. Pretend I’m not here. Talk to yourself a little.”

My breaths grew steadier as his cologne washed over me. The familiar scent inspired calm. All on their own, and against my better judgment, my arms slid around his back.

He wrapped one strong arm around my waist. “Rav, Jayce, and Drew are here in town with me. They’re coming down to look at your room.”

The calm vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and I leaned back so I could see him. Was he serious? Why would his team come here? What would they do?

He shook his head, and his free hand found the back of my neck, pulling me close enough to continue whispering in my ear. “I’m not trying to scare you. But I have a feeling someone was in your room. Someone who shouldn’t have been here. I need to know if anything is missing, and if it is, what is it?”

I would have been excited to be in Emmett’s arms if my heart weren’t trying to leap up my throat and out of my body.

Unfortunately, nothing about this trip to Monte Carlo was going the way I had hoped it would. My great restoration coup had transformed into a gigantic failure—either I had no idea what I was doing, or I was working on a forgery. No matter how close I got to Em, he’d never want me the way I wanted him. And now, if his instincts were right, someone had been in my room.

Why?

I slipped away from Emmett, out of the bathroom, down the hallway. I wouldn’t say anything if I were really coming for my laptop. But he wanted me to talk to myself.

“Let’s see…” I walked to the narrow wooden desk where my laptop and mouse sat. Nothing looked out of place. “Where did I put the…”

Emmett stood soundlessly at the entrance to the room, a soft smile on his lips that almost made me feel like any of this was normal.

I scanned every surface—the bed, the nightstands, the dresser, the tiny balcony overlooking the patio. My laptop bag sat on the desk chair. I’d left it there, but something wasn’t right. Every zipper was open. Sleep had been elusive last night. I’d finally drifted off around two o’clock and slept half an hour later than planned, so I’d rushed through my morning routine.

That rush had included a last-minute panic about where my notebook was. Fortunately, it had been in my laptop bag, exactly where I’d left it, and I’d thrown it into my purse.

My small sketchbook, though? It was still in the laptop bag, spine up.

A shiver ran up my spine.

I never put the sketchbook in with the spine up. If the pages faced the bottom, there were too many chances they’d get ripped, torn, or folded. I always put it spine down to protect it.

Someone had been in my room. And they’d gone through my things.