Page 21 of Risky Obsession

“Europe?”

“Yes. Berlin for starters. Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

No! I hate flying.

“You’re going to need a fake name so I can get a passport?—”

“Tory.” I blurted. “Tory Parmenter.”

Shit, why did I say that?

Aria frowned. “Okay. Tory Parmenter it is.”

I was relieved she didn’t press me for a reason why I wanted that name. I did not want to tell her that Tory was my best friend who had died because of me.

“I’ll make the arrangements. You’ll fly via our private jet, and I’ll get you a credit card, cash, and a phone,” she said. “And I’ll tell Watts and confirm you’ll be doing this for four weeks. Hopefully that’s long enough to follow these clues, and with even more luck, you’ll find a stash of gold that nobody else has been able to find.”

“I do love a challenge.”

“Good. Just watch yourself with Kane.” She winked at me. “He’s a smooth one.”

“Ha. He’ll be putty in my hands.”

Provided I don’t blow my cover like last time.

CHAPTER 6

Kane

Despite the blazing sunshine, the chill of the air in Berlin hit me like a slap in the face as I disembarked from Aria’s private jet behind Tory. I rubbed my hands together, trying to instill some warmth into my fingers. Maybe I should have checked just how cold it was going to be before I’d packed.

I’d been given just twenty-four hours to agree to Aria’s terms for this trip. And a further three days to pack, and getDevil’s Fortuneready and my car secured, so I could leave.

Not that I was complaining. I hadn’t expected to hear from Aria again, let alone with the arrangement she’d suggested. But after I’d heard her out, I’d intended to say no. I had absolutely no desire to work with another treasure hunter . . . until she’d introduced me to the blonde bombshell, Tory Parmenter.

Side by side, we crossed the frigid tarmac. Tory tugged a small rolling suitcase, and I carried Pops’ old leather duffle bag that had probably crossed the globe a dozen times.

I stole a sidelong glance at Tory. She was smart and attractive, a deadly combination that I knew only too well. Something about her seemed off, though. And it wasn’t just her injured fingers or the bruise and cut on her cheek.

At the start of our eighteen-hour flight from Brisbane to Berlin, she’d popped a couple of white pills that had helped her sleep most of the way.Once she recovered from that comatose state, there had been a couple of times during the flight where she went so gray, I’d thought she was going to puke, but she’d pulled herself together. I had attempted to make small talk, but she wasn’t interested. I hadn’t met a woman yet who didn’t want to talk to me. But that just made her more intriguing.

I was all for a good challenge. Especially when a sexy, mysterious woman was involved.

At the entrance to the airport terminal, I raced in front of her to push open the door.

“After you.” I flashed a grin.

“Thanks.” When she turned to squeeze past me, she winced.

“Are you okay?”

She flashed a tight-lipped smile, but her gaze never met mine. “I’m fine, Kane. Just tired from the flight.”

How could she be tired? She’d slept for about twelve hours.

We merged with hundreds of other travelers on their way to the baggage carrousel and exit. Tory had also surprised me with her minimal luggage. Most people packing for a month in Europe would need a massive suitcase. Not the elusive Tory, though.