Saving Mr. Perfect

by Tamara Morgan

  “Yes,” I say tightly. “Maybe you noticed—he’s sitting a few tables over.”

  “Of course!” Peter’s eyes, black under the dimly lit terrace, meet Grant’s in a moment of shared intelligence. “What a fortunate coincidence. Mr. O’Kelly, this is the young woman I was telling you about.”

  The queasiness in my stomach is replaced by a knot of dread. I can imagine all too well how that conversation must have gone.

  Did you hear the news? Penelope Blue is going to try and steal my precious tiara. In fact, we consider her one of the most likely suspects. Would you like to make her walk the plank, or should I?

  “That would be why the name was so familiar,” Grant says. “Though not the face. Are you sure you’ve never been to Prague?”

  I stare at him for as long as I feel I can get away with, hoping to catch some clue as to how he wants me to act. Do I pretend to know him? Feign ignorance of any and all past meetings? Act like an ordinary thief who’s plotting to steal a twenty-million-dollar tiara from the man seated across from me?

  In the end, I decide to go with that last one. Of the three options, it’s the one I’m most familiar with.

  “Never,” I say with as much resolution as I can muster. “I’m not much for traveling.”

  “It’s true. I tried to get her to come with me to Germany years ago, but she’s a New York fixture.” Hijack sits back in his chair, one arm draped over my shoulder to make it appear as if we’re hugging. I know Grant has noticed because he’s been careful not to let his gaze fall there even once.

  “Is that so?” Peter asks politely. “How convenient. One will always know where to find you.”

  There’s a thinly veiled threat in there, so I answer with one of my own. “Yes. I can often be found staying with my dad. He moved there to be near me—to take care of me. You, of all people, must know how protective fathers can be.”

  “Aha. I take that to mean you’ve met my little Lola.”

  “I have,” I admit. And then, because it’s no more than the truth, “I like her.”

  At the mention of his daughter, Peter’s smile grows thin. “She has her moments. She’s got a good head for figures and is eager to learn. Unfortunately, she takes after my wife in all other regards—no common sense and even less discretion.”

  There doesn’t seem to be a polite response to that, so I offer a bland, “I didn’t realize you were married. Is your wife on this trip, too?”

  “No. I had her killed years ago.”

  I choke. Not one of the three men seated with me even blinks—either at the confession or my reaction to it—though Grant unbends enough to pass me a glass of water.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, my hand on my chest as I attempt to swallow. “I thought I just heard you say that you had her killed.”

  “I did,” Peter says, still with that sweet, almost grandfatherly air. He toys with the stem of his wineglass before holding the bloodred liquid up to the moon. “I told you—no common sense and even less discretion. She cheated on me with her yoga instructor.”

  “Um…” I look to Grant and then Hijack for help, but I might as well be flanked by statues for all they care. Am I the only one who finds this alarming? “That’s terrible. I’m sorry to hear it?”

  “Thank you.” He bows his head slightly, accepting my apology as condolences befitting the deservedly bereaved. “If there’s one thing a man ought to be able to count on in this world, it’s his wife’s fidelity. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. O’Kelly?”

  Grant looks at me, a flash of mischief in his sudden smile. “Absolutely.”

  I open my mouth to protest—hello misogyny and double standards and, you know, murder—but Grant isn’t done.

  “When I take the leap into matrimony, I intend to protect what’s mine regardless of the consequences,” he says calmly. “No man will lay hands on my wife without feeling the full weight of his regret.”

  As Hijack is technically laying a hand on me right now, I can’t help but feel slightly alarmed at this declaration.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Peter says. “Which is why I had the yoga instructor killed, too.”

  I take another drink of the water, draining every last drop and wishing I had more. So much for the nice, soft-spoken baby-dandler. Peter Sanchez is every bit as ruthless as his dossier suggests.

  “I’m so pleased that you and Lola have hit it off, Ms. Blue,” he says, still in that mild tone. “I’m counting on you to keep an eye on her. She thinks the world of you—she always has. I’ll feel much better knowing she’ll have at least one friend on board the Shady Lady.”

  Considering how he treats people he’s married to, I’m not sure how I feel about being his daughter’s new best friend, but I can hardly refuse. “I’m happy to do what I can, of course, but I’m not sure how much free time I’ll have once the game gets underway. I intend to give the cards my full attention.”

  “Naturally, naturally.” He waves his hand, apparently done with the subject of his family. “Does that mean you’re as adept at poker as your father? If so, my guests are going to be up against a much bigger challenge than they realize.”

  “Not at all,” I admit. It feels good to be on neutral ground again, even if we haven’t fully escaped danger. “I’m more of a casual player than anything else, but I am looking forward to catching a glimpse of the Luxor Tiara. I heard the grand unveiling is tomorrow?”

  Peter inclines his head in assent. “Yes, at the opening ceremonies. It promises to be an interesting event. You’ll have to tell me what you think of my little treasure.”

  “If I know Penelope, she’ll have nothing but good things to say.” Hijack squeezes my shoulder. “Diamond-mad, this one. Always has been.”

  I swear, it’s like he’s purposefully trying to get Grant to blow his cover.

  I cough gently. “I reserve the right to be disappointed. Remember—my expectations are awfully high. I’ve been hearing about this diamond since I was in diapers.”

  “From the looks of you, that can’t have been too many years ago,” Peter says. “You’re a mere babe among grizzly old wolves.”

  “Ah, that’s where you’re wrong, Peter,” Grant puts in, all calm elegance across the table. It’s making me nervous. I mean, I know how good he can be at playing a role—we were married for a whole year before he stopped playing one with me—but I still don’t like it. “Never mistake youth for inexperience. These two might look like high school sweethearts, but something tells me they’ve seen more action than most of us can boast in a lifetime. How long have you two kids known each other?”

  Unaware of the fine line he’s treading, Hijack answers for us both. “Pen and me? We go way back. You could say she was my first love.”

  Grant doesn’t so much as twitch. “But not, I hope, the last?”

  “It’s too soon to say,” Hijack says with a laugh and another dangerous squeeze of my shoulder. “I get the feeling the answer to that might depend on whether or not I end up getting my hands on that tiara.”

  “Is that a fact? How interesting. I had no idea the lady’s affection could be so easily bought.”

  It seems a timely moment to intervene. “The lady is getting awfully tired of hearing herself spoken about in the third person, if you want her opinion. And for the record, the answer is no. My affection can’t be bought that easily. If I want a diamond, I’m perfectly capable of going out and taking it for myself.”

  Too late, I realize how that sounds.

  “Not that I’m going to take the Luxor, of course,” I say quickly, casting my stricken eyes Peter’s way. “I just mean in the general order of things.”

  “Don’t you worry on my account. I like a woman who shows initiative.” Peter drops his napkin to his plate and rises, ignoring my faux pas and making me all the more frightened of him because of it. “No, no—don’t get up. I have a
few minor details to attend to before the game gets underway. Security has been a nightmare, as I’m sure you can imagine. You three enjoy yourselves. Mr. O’Kelly, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  Grant lifts his head in what I assume is a nod before Peter disappears into the night air. I’m a little jealous of his escape, actually. With just the three of us sitting here, there’s every chance our encounter is about to get even more awkward. Fortunately, Grant also makes a motion to depart.

  It’s only a motion, though. He rises to his feet, all six feet two inches of him looming over the table, and waits there. I’m so busy trying to make out the features of his face—difficult to read under any circumstances and almost impossible now—that I don’t notice right away he’s holding out his hand, waiting for me to take it in my own.

  Instinct warns me to play this cool and easy to avoid suspicion, which is why I’m so taken aback by how firmly he grips my hand, how deliberate he is as he helps me to my feet and once again drops a kiss to my fingers. Cool and easy are not the words I’d use to describe the intensity of his lips on my skin.

  Hot. Hard.

  “You’re looking much better for the fresh air,” he says. “Is there anything I can procure for you, anything you need to make your passage easier?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of her.” Hijack doesn’t move from his chair. Normally, being in a seated position puts a man at a disadvantage, but the way he has one ankle propped casually on the opposite knee exudes a kind of laid-back power that not even Grant’s impressive stature can suppress. “She’s in good hands.”

  “You’ve vastly relieved my mind,” Grant says in a flat tone, and makes a slight bow. “Penelope. Hijack. It was a pleasure meeting you both. I look forward to facing you across the tables.”

  Somehow, I doubt the sincerity of that.

  Hijack waits until Grant’s dark form disappears the same way as Peter’s before releasing a low whistle. “Well, shit, Pen,” he says. “I always knew you’d done well for yourself, but I had no idea you were famous now.”

  My laugh is shaky. “I’m not famous—not really. Most of my notoriety is thanks to my dad.”

  “You’re the one sitting at Peter Sanchez’s dinner table, not him.”

  “So are you,” I point out. “Besides, people never used to treat me like this. It’s a recent development. You have to understand—my life is a lot different now that I have a father, a home. I’m not the scrappy delinquent you used to know.”

  “I’m beginning to see that.” He doesn’t attempt to rise, his head turned to me, watching carefully. Too carefully. “Who was that guy, by the way?”

  “The tall one? He said his name was Kit O’Kelly.”

  It’s not the answer Hijack is looking for, but it’s the only one I have that doesn’t give myself away, so it’ll have to do.

  “Yeah, I picked up that much,” he replies. Then, “I don’t trust him.”

  “I dunno. I kind of liked him.”

  Hijack chuffs a soft breath. “Of course you do. You like everyone. Peter Sanchez was right—you’re a babe among wolves.”

  First of all, I don’t like everyone—not even close. It took me over ten years to warm up to my stepmother, and I’m still not sure I’d save Simon from a burning building if it came down to a choice between him and virtually any other human being on the planet. Secondly, I don’t appreciate being treated like some frail wisp of a woman who doesn’t know what she’s doing. I might be small and I might be working for the FBI, but I can still out-steal every man on this boat—Hijack included.

  “I can handle myself, thanks,” I say tightly.

  “Are you sure about that? You’re an attractive, wealthy, well-connected jewel thief with a track record of success most of us only dream of. There are lots of men on this boat who might try to take advantage of that.”

  My spine stiffens at the implication—that I’m weak and vulnerable, that I can be corrupted by a handsome face and sleek manners. Please. If that was the case, I’d have knuckled under my husband’s iron will years ago.

  “You mean men kind of like you?” I ask.

  “No, Penelope.” He laughs and helps me to my feet, an unnerving glint in his eye. “I mean men exactly like me.”

  Order Tamara Morgan’s next book

  in the Penelope Blue series

  Seeking Mr. Wrong

  On sale March 2018

  Thank you for reading!

  At Sourcebooks we are always working on something new and exciting, and we don’t want you to miss out.

  So sign up now to receive exclusive offers, bonus content, and always be the first to get the scoop on what’s new!

  SIGN UP NOW!