Celt. (Den of Mercenaries #2)(39)

Gabriel had the painting, used Elliot to find someone to reproduce it … but that still didn’t explain why it needed to be done in the first place. If they were trying to fence it, why have another made?

Kyrnon was contemplating his next move when doors slammed shut down the hall. With no time to get out of there, he slipped around the side of a crate, still keeping a visual on the door.

Two men entered, one rolling in a dolly, the other checking their surroundings. They didn’t speak much as they made quick work of loading up both paintings, treating them quite carefully as they wheeled them out.

Keeping his steps light, Kyrnon followed behind, checking his watch as he went.

One minute …

“Where to this time?” One asked as he climbed into the passenger’s seat of the large moving truck.

“Monte’s place. They’re supposed to be getting rid of this thing soon.”

It wasn’t much later that they were pulling off, disappearing down the street. Slipping back out the way he came, Kyrnon was on his phone before he was even back at his car.

“Winter, I need a favor.”

Winter was chewing gum loudly, then asked, “What can I do for you, little Irish?”

If she didn’t stop calling him that … “Gabriel Monte. Run the name, get me everything you can. Make sure you find any property he owns.”

“Domestic or foreign?”

“Domestic. New York specifically.” He had already gone through enough trouble bringing it in under the Kingmaker’s nose, he wasn’t going to stray too far now.

“I’ll send you my bill. Ciao.”

Kyrnon didn’t doubt that by the time he got back to Amber’s, she would have everything he needed, and he needed the answer to that quick. On his way to Amber’s apartment, he stopped by a local place to grab take-out. Thirty minutes later, he was there.

Feeling around the top of the doorframe, he grabbed the key she kept hidden there, letting himself into her place. “You need to find a better spot for this, lovie.”

“Is there anything else you’re going to complain about?” she called from where she was sitting on the fire escape, a sketchbook in her lap. “First it was my windows, then it was the deadbolt, and now my spare key. I can’t win with you.”

“It’s not safe,” he said dropping the food on the counter, spotting the envelope and check sitting there. He didn’t pick it up, rather only kept his gaze on it as he pulled containers from the bag.

“It’s perfectly safe, and besides,” she continued, padding over to him. “You’re here at the moment and I’m plenty safe with you.”

That made his ego kick up a notch. “Fair enough.” Glancing back at the check, Kyrnon asked, “How was work?”

Her eyes lit up as she smiled, wrapping her arms around him from behind. “I finished this big project today. Which reminds me. I was invited to this auction and I thought maybe you could come with me.”

So Gabriel was auctioning off the painting? That wasn’t surprising. A lot of his contacts were known to attend private auctions in hopes of obtaining a rare piece, but they rarely invited outsiders … at least not ones they didn’t think they could trust.

Did they think they could trust Amber?

Just how involved was she?

And how in the hell hadn’t he seen it?

“What kind of project?” he asked, walking her back to the couch, pulling her down on his lap.

Though she stayed put, she didn’t look as at ease as she usually did. “I can’t really talk about it.”

“Now you’ve got my interest.” Grabbing her hand, he kissed her palm. “Your secrets are safe with me.”

“I signed an NDA.”

For f*ck’s sake. “Why?”

The question came out sharper than he intended, and he could feel the shift in her, the way she tensed against him as she readied to push away, but he kept his hands at her waist, making sure she wouldn’t get anywhere.

“Unless you’re moving artwork on the black market,” Kyrnon said, trying to soften his words, “what in the hell do you need a nondisclosure agreement for?”

Glancing away, she bit her lip. “I can’t talk about it.”

“What’d be the harm in telling me, eh?”

Patience had never been his strong suit, particularly when it came to information he needed, but he didn’t want to push too hard too fast and make her suspicious as to why he was asking.

“Fine, but you can’t say anything, to anyone.”

He crossed his heart. “Scout’s honor.”

“I was contracted to make a reproduction of this painting—the L’amant Flétrie.”

“Aye, I’ve heard of it.” More than she knew.

“I’m not sure what all the secrecy is about, but I had to sign the NDA before I could start. The man who hired me said they wanted to have it, just in case someone tried to steal the original.”

Someone very much like him, Kyrnon thought as she explained. It was smart, he had to admit, especially given the amount of detail and the level of skill used.

“I made a slight change to the canvas though,” she continued. “I added my signature at bottom so just in case …”

She wouldn’t be held liable should it ever be sold as the original.