Page 49 of Risky Obsession

As Ibit into my cherry strudel, I tried to formulate what to ask Kane next. “Did you enjoy your Navy career?”

“It had its moments.” Kane flashed a cryptic smile and leaned back in his chair, licking his fingers. “That was delicious. So, what about you? When you’re not treasure hunting, what are you doing?” Kane offered me an easy smile that seemed to reach into me and tease my insides.

Damnit. I needed to control this conversation. “This and that.”

“You know, that’s the third time I’ve asked you a variation of that question, and if you keep dodging it, I’m only going to get more inquisitive.”

I grumbled at him, and scrambling for a suitable answer, I reached for my cherry strudel again. “Okay, if you must know, I’m just an admin assistant. Not like you, Mister Fancy Pants in his fancy yacht. I have to go to my boring office job where I shuffle boring paperwork around all day.”

He paused with his second strudel in his hand. “I think that’s the most you’ve said to me in one go since we met.”

Oh jeez. My lies are going to be the death of me.

Undercover was so much easier when I didn’t give shit what the person I was deceiving thought about me. I had no idea why Kane’s opinion of me was so important now. I barely knew him. And he knew absolutely nothing about me.

“Just to clarify,” he said, all serious. “I don’t have fancy pants.”

I burst out laughing.

His laughter joined mine and seemed to echo off the quaint café walls which were adorned with vintage-looking posters. He bit into the pasty, staring at me from across the table, and I forgot the weight of my secrets and guilty past. It felt good to share a genuine laugh with someone, to let my guard down, even if just for a moment.

When we finished our pastries and turned our attention to our coffees, a silence settled between us that wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. It gave me the crazy notion that Kane and I had known each other for years.

The bell tinkled as a family of four entered the café, bringing in a blast of frigid air and breaking the trance I wanted to stay in.

That was damn dangerous.

I pushed my empty coffee cup away. “You excited for this antique fair?”

“Not as much as I bet you are. Nothing like ancient relics to take your mind off boring paperwork.”

“I’ll drink to that. Actually, I really will drink to that. You want another coffee?”

“Sure. Let’s grab them to go. I’m keen to scout out the area,” he said.

We stood together, and I just about collided with his chest.

“Great. Me too.” Fighting the swirl of delight wafting through me, I marched to the front counter.

With my coffee warming my hands, I relied on Kane to lead the way. Mostly following a crowd, we arrived at a section of the old town which had been blocked off to traffic. Sidewalks and tables were covered with everything from dusty books to glistening dinnerware, to life-sized marble statues. The tables lined up along the sidewalk were just the beginning. Every store along the street had an open door that hinted at a world inside that needed to be explored.

This fair was already overwhelming, and this was just the first street. The poster I’d read in the café while we’d waited for our second coffee order detailed the antique fair as extending to several streets and four buildings with names that I couldn’t possibly pronounce.

“Where do we start?” I asked, scanning the table next to me, which was loaded with antique phones that looked like they covered every decade dating back to Alexander Graham Bell.

“Let’s try that place.” Kane pointed to a shop three doors down with an impressive collection of cloth-bound books displayed on the outside table and in the window.

I followed him into the dimly lit shop and the walls were covered in dusty books and crammed shelves that made my claustrophobia stand to attention.

There has to be at least five thousand books in this tiny shop.

I paused to study a row of book spines. Not one of them was in English.

Great.

Crossing the creaking floorboards, I found Kane at a stack of parchment, searching through the yellowing pages with a look of confusion on his face.

“Anything promising?” I tried to keep the skepticism from my tone.