Celt. (Den of Mercenaries #2)(42)

“If you want it, let’s get it,” Kyrnon said, even as he raised his paddle, just enough to get Gabriel’s attention.

“Kyrnon, you don’t have to buy it,” she rushed to say, even as his bid was noted.

“Why not? If you want it, it’s yours.”

“But—”

“Three-fifty? Do I hear four?” Gabriel looked back to Kyrnon expectantly.

Kyrnon nodded again, uncaring to the fact that the price was nearly double the asking price. He was too busy focusing on the man across the room that was continuously trying to outbid him.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to—”

“Now what kind of man would I be if I didn’t keep you happy?” That question was enough to shut her up. “Six-hundred-thousand,” Kyrnon suddenly announced with a wave of his paddle.

The suit he was going up against glanced back at them and whatever he saw made him smile mockingly as he said, “One million.”

Kyrnon didn’t even blink. “Two.”

Two. Two million dollars.

She was starting to realize that maybe Kyrnon was a bit crazy, but she liked it.

“Sold,” Gabriel said with a brilliant smile as he slammed the gavel down.

It was the highest bid—outside of L’amant Flétrie—so far, and from the way the soft murmurs started up, it was an impressive one. She was still reeling that he even had that much money to spend on a painting, let alone that he was doing it for her.

“Give me ten minutes,” he said in her ear as he stood, kissing her cheek as he did.

As he disappeared back out the door and down the hallway where others had gone after successfully winning their bid, she could only sit there with a smile, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world.



* * *



“And how would you like to make your payment, sir?”

Kyrnon was rethinking his earlier worry that Amber might complicate the job—in fact, she made it easier. His buying her a painting not only made her happy, it gave him an excuse to venture back toward where they were storing the art.

Two birds, one stone.

Rattling off the series of numbers for one of his accounts in the Cayman Islands, his gaze drifted over the office he stood in, then back out the door toward the other side of the hall where workers were carefully moving in and out of the room.

The question now was how was he going to get into the room and back out without getting caught?

He needed a distraction.

Once his transaction was finished with Emanuel, Kyrnon asked, “Where can I find the facilities?”

“Down the hall and on your left.”

Back down the hall, he slipped into the restroom, grabbing one of the hand towels next to the sink, he stuffed it into one of the toilets and flushed, stepping back as the water rose and spilled onto the floor.

Just as quickly, he exited, finding one of the attendants walking by. While all of them wore suits, a badge was clipped to their waists, differentiating them from the rest of the guests.

Adopting an American accent, Kyrnon said, “Something’s wrong with the toilet in here.”

As he quickly apologized and stepped around Kyrnon to head into the room, Kyrnon slipped the badge from him with deft fingers, continuing on as if nothing had happened.

He didn’t have a lot of time, but he didn’t let that worry him.

This was what he did.

Slipping on a pair of gloves similar to those in which the others used, he flashed his badge as he entered the room where all the pieces were being held. There was one man inside with a clipboard in hand, instructing movers on where each piece was meant to be taken.

“The Withered Lover,” he said to no one in particular. “That should be stored in the observatory.”

Kyrnon had not a f*cking clue where the observatory was, but he merely nodded, letting the man know he would take care of it before he was crossing the floor to find it.

He found it, and its replica, quickly assessing the differences between them. Now that the canvas was aged, it was much harder to tell them apart, but Kyrnon remembered what Amber had told him, about the signature she added. It took a bit of staring and searching on his part, but he finally found it, right there at the bottom edge where she said it would be.

Carefully moving them both, he did, in fact, find the observatory, but he left Amber’s replica there, wrapping the other and taking it out back under the guise of having it loaded for one of the buyers.

Once he had it safely stored in a hidden compartment in the trunk of his Ferrari, Kyrnon pocketed his gloves and headed back to the auction that was already ending.

He glanced down at his watch.

Five minutes, fifty-four seconds.

A personal best.

And would be a job well done once he got the hell out of there.

As he stared across the distance at the woman he had never meant to have a relationship with, he knew that even as the job was done, he wasn’t letting her go.

Not even close.





Chapter Eleven





Kyrnon was definitely a night owl.

This was the third time over the last couple of weeks when she spent the night with Kyrnon that she woke up and he wasn’t beside her. Usually he wasn’t far away, but she did start to wonder what made him get up every night.