Free Atlantis Betrayed by Alyssa Day Page B

into his chair. “So long as you’re not kissing Sean, too.”
    Hopkins picked up the gun again. “Now I’m definitely going to shoot him.”
    “I’d rather you didn’t,” Christophe said, but he was either insane or had balls of bloody steel, because there wasn’t a hint of fear on his face.
    “No shooting! I won’t have it,” she shouted, smashing her fist down on the desk, which accomplished nothing but hurting her hand. Everyone else in the room ignored her completely. Stupid men.
    “Look, man, in all seriousness, if you mess with my sister, you’re going to have to face me,” Declan said, and he was only shaking the tiniest bit as he faced Christophe, holding one of the ceremonial swords from the display on the wall.
    “When did you get that down? How—”
    “Later, Fee,” Declan said, suddenly looking a lot more grown-up.
    Christophe’s grin faded and an expression of total seriousness took its place as he slowly rose from the chair, hands held loosely at his side. “Declan, it is both courageous and honorable of you to protect your sister. I swear on my oath as a warrior not to do anything with her that she doesn’t want me to do. Does that satisfy your honor?”
    Declan nodded uncertainly, and lowered the sword.
    Fiona’s mouth fell open, and she stepped between the two of them, placed a hand on each of their chests, and shoved. “I. Am. Standing. Right. Here!” she shouted. “Bloody Neanderthals!”
    Hopkins put the gun back down on the table. “Perhaps you might lower your voice before the housekeeper and the rest of the staff call the constables or rush down here to investigate?”
    Christophe caught her hand in one of his, raised it to his lips, and kissed her palm before she could snatch her hand away. She had to fight herself not to give him the satisfaction of rubbing her hand against her pants to make the tingling feeling go away. His smile told her he knew anyway.
    Damn the man.
    “Look. Why don’t we all calm down? I don’t want to hurt anybody,” Christophe said. “We both want the Siren. I happen to represent . . . a consortium of very wealthy investors who will be happy to pay. So we steal it together, I get the Siren, I give you the money. Minus a certain finder’s fee for myself, of course.”
    He poured himself a cup of chocolate, bold as brass, while she and Hopkins stared at each other in stunned disbelief. Disbelief being the operative word.
    “What possible incentive could you have for giving us all the money? We weren’t born yesterday,” she pointed out.
    Christophe put his cup down and flashed that wicked smile at her again. “No, but the gods clearly blessed whatever day you were born. As to incentive? I’m in the mood for a little challenge, and may Poseidon himself strike me down if that’s not the truth.”
    Oddly enough, the man paused and looked to the windows for a moment before continuing. “I don’t need money, and clearly you don’t, either, from the looks of this place. So we both do this for the fun of it. Why don’t we have a little fun together this time?”
    The double entendres in every sentence out of his sinfully gorgeous mouth was sending little shock waves through her nerve endings. Have a little fun together, indeed. She’d like to have naked fun with him . . . Oh. No. She was doing it again. She clenched her fists and tried to remember all the reasons this was such a bad idea.
    “I don’t trust you,” Hopkins said flatly, aiming his deadliest stare at Christophe. “I wouldn’t trust you with the good silver, let alone a priceless jewel from the British royal collection. Certainly not with Lady Fiona.”
    “Right. Patriotism?” Christophe rolled his eyes. “From the man who was obviously helping her steal the Siren from queen and country in the first place? Try again.”
    “We’re going to do it,” Fiona said. “I’ll be your partner, for this one time, and one time only.”
    Hopkins jerked his head to stare at her in