Pirate's Promise (Sentinels of Savannah #5) - Lisa Kessler Page 0,49
simpler.
Whoever opened that door had stolen a relic from a high-security underground vault in Washington, D.C., or at least had been in contact with someone who had.
He stood behind Aura as the door opened, his senses instantly on high alert, and something flashed inside him.
He no longer gave a shit about the money for collecting this sword.
All he cared about, as the tall, slender man at the door glared at them, was keeping Aura safe. She was all that mattered. The realization socked him in the gut like a wrecking ball, but he buried the emotions, sinking into the undercover operation.
“You the Smiths?” The man’s green eyes flickered between Aura and Greyson.
“Yes,” she answered. “I’m Amber and this is my husband, Greg.”
“Good to meet you.” Greyson offered his hand. “You are?”
The other man hesitated for a moment, sucking in a deep breath before finally taking his hand. “Doesn’t matter.” The guy dropped his hand. “You got ID?”
Aura plucked a passport from her bag while Greyson fished his from his pocket. The man examined them and then handed the blue books back. “Looks good. Follow me.”
Greyson reached for Aura’s hand, lacing their fingers in a tight grip. She met his eyes with a hint of a smile before facing forward again, following their guide past rows of battered lockers to a tiny, enclosed office space in the back.
Was she pretending? Was this Aura or Amber?
Fuck if he knew. Firing weapons of all shapes and sizes was his strong suit. Playing mind games was not.
A man in a black turtleneck with dark hair and bright-green eyes sat behind a metal desk. He stood as they entered. “You must be the Smiths?”
“Yes,” she replied and pointed to her chest. “I’m Amber.” She glanced at Greyson. “And this is my husband, Greg.”
She took a seat on one of the folding chairs across from the man in the turtleneck, while Greyson peered back at the guy who’d brought them inside. He turned the corner, disappearing the same way they’d come in.
“Sorry about Shaw,” Turtleneck Guy said. “He’s not a people person.”
Greyson faced forward and sat in the chair next to Aura. Careful to keep his Savannahian drawl in place, he said, “And you are?”
“I’m Lennox.” He looked at Aura. “We emailed about the antique sword.”
She smiled. “Good to meet you in person.” She patted Greyson’s leg. “We’d love to see it to verify the authenticity before we make the wire transfer.”
Lennox shook his head. “I’m just the middleman here.” He leaned forward, resting his crossed forearms on the desk. “This is how it’s going down. I’ll confirm you have the funds available to complete this transaction. Once we clear that hurdle, Mr. Mamon will bring the sword for your inspection. Not before.”
Greyson tensed, but he kept his mouth shut, reminding himself that Aura was a pro. This was her territory. He was her muscle in case she needed backup.
“Oh, I’m sure I can pass verification. How do we go about that?” Aura was laying the southern accent on thick, and the way she leaned toward the desk had her breasts pulling the fabric of her shirt tight against her chest.
Greyson narrowed his eyes as Lennox struggled to keep his attention on her face. He crossed his arms, his thumb caressing the handle of his Glock. He’d be jealous as hell if he didn’t know this was all an act.
Lennox cleared his throat. “I have a secured escrow account to hold the money. Once it hits in there, I’ll text you the time and address to meet Mr. Mamon.”
Greyson arched a brow, glancing at Aura. It wasn’t his money, but it seemed like a big gamble to trust these strangers to keep their word. It’d be so easy to take the money and disappear.
She ran her hand up Greyson’s arm. “Oh, I don’t even let Greg here hold my money, and I love him,” she purred.
His ears perked at her use of the word “love.” What the fuck was wrong with him? Maybe seeing Colton, Keegan, John, and Drake with their women had flipped some kind of switch inside him. In over 250 years on this earth, he’d never been in love. That wasn’t going to change now.
But he couldn’t deny hearing her say the word did something to him.
Aura turned his way, her gaze boring into him as she patted his leg. “Greg, baby, can you run to the car and bring the portfolio from the trunk?”