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He curses under his breath. “Time to do some laps.”
Maybe it’s a good thing we got interrupted, I decide, and start swimming the long length of the pool. I need to cool off and remember why we’re here. And it’s certainly not to get frisky with Knox in this pool. We have a job to do.
Knox is a wonderfully steamy distraction, and as much as I want to doubt him, I’m starting to see his good qualities. I really like how he includes me in everything, from the meetings with his crew to the conversations about the job.
With Ex Nihilo, I sometimes felt a bit on the outs. Probably because I was merely their pilot. They were the assassins gone rogue with a vengeance, and I hung back, stayed with the jet and let them do their thing.
Maybe there’s more to Knox Beckett than meets the eye.
After several laps, I let my feet touch the bottom in the shallow end. It’s about four feet deep and my toes slide on the glass. I see people below, looking up, drinking champagne and socializing, and I wonder if all these fancy guests live in houses like this.
I’m also wondering how Addie and the others are doing. We haven’t heard anything in a while, so they must still be searching. My earpiece is waterproof, so I know it’s working.
I watch Knox slice through the water with clean, strong strokes and lean my back against the side, lifting my foot, expecting it to hit tiles. Instead, it touches nothing, and I lose my balance slightly. What the hell?
Glancing down, I realize there’s an opening, and I’m trying to see through the blurry water when Knox swims up beside me.
“Look!” I murmur, pointing down at the circular hole. “There’s a tunnel.”
He moves closer, brushing up against me to get a better look, and I feel a thrum of awareness. Before he can comment, I pull in a deep breath and dive down. Swimming forward, I pass through the narrow tunnel, which is a few feet long, and find myself in a completely different pool.
Breaking the surface, I take a moment to look around. I’m standing in a much smaller, shallower, very private pool. Knox pops up beside me, pulling in a deep breath of air. There’s a couch, table and expensive-looking piece of art on a pedestal. Several large oil paintings hang on the wall, probably priceless originals, and I wonder if Torres stole those, too. There’s also a display case, but it’s hard to see what’s inside from my low position.
Moving over to the stairs, we both climb out and drip water across the shiny marble floor. I gasp when I see the biggest, brightest, greenest emerald displayed on a black velvet cushion, sparkling beneath a light.
Beside me, Knox lets out a low curse then presses his comms. “We’ve got eyes on the emerald. Hunter found it,” he says, and my chest swells a bit because he’s giving me all the credit. And he also sounds proud.
“Where are you?” Addie asks.
We both look around, not quite sure how to answer that.
“No clue. Some private room connected to an underwater tunnel to the upper pool. Gimme a sec.”
“I don’t see a door,” I say, searching for an entrance, an exit, some way to get in or out of the room other than swimming.
“It must be hidden, and we don’t have time to search. This is where Torres probably hides the hot stuff.” He scrubs a hand down his face then pushes his comms unit. “Deck, I don’t think there’s any way to get you in here other than a swim, and that’s going to draw attention.”
“What have you got?” he asks.
“A glass display case…” Knox bends down, examining the edges, lightly running his index finger along the wooden base, just below the glass.
A shiver runs through me at that subtle movement. Plus, it’s cold out of the warm water. Or, at least, that’s what I try to tell myself as I rub the goosebumps away.
“There’s a keypad,” he continues.
“Perfect,” Brighton says. “He can enter the code The Man gave us, grab the emerald and we get the hell outta here.”
“Hold up,” Linc warns. “We don’t know if there’s an alarm or pressure switch.”
“And there usually is,” Addie states.
I exchange a worried look with Knox. This is Linc’s area of expertise and he’s not here, which makes me incredibly nervous.
“I can walk you through it. At least, I think.”
“That’s not very reassuring,” Knox says.
“Can you or can’t you, Linc?” Addie asks.