very, very cautious, in spite of the part of her that wanted to crawl into his lap and bite his neck.
Hopkins cleared his throat. “You kissed him?”
“I—”
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“Wow! Your first kiss in years and it’s a criminal? Sis, you’re going to have to watch out. You’ve got a thing for bad boys. Look at Sean.”
Her face was on fire. Surely the house sprinkler system would activate itself at any moment.
Christophe’s avid interest wasn’t helping any, nor was the way he kept checking out her body whenever she moved.
“It was not my first kiss in years, not that it’s any of your business, and I—he—it was a distraction technique!”
“It’s true. She distracted me, and then she shot me,” Christophe offered. Then he leaned forward, and those amazing green eyes narrowed. “Also, who’s Sean?”
“Don’t help me,” she told him. “I don’t have a thing for Sean,” she said to her rotten brother.
“You adopted him!” Declan sputtered. “That’s what I meant. Not that you have a romantic thing for him.
That would be gross. You’re so old.”
“I’m not old,” she gritted out.
“Not compared to me,” Christophe said cheerfully, relaxing back 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!”
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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
Christiane Shoenhair, Liam McEvilly