Under the Rose

by Kathryn Nolan

My toes curled.

  “With or without encoded, raunchy messages?”

  “With, of course. What am I, an amateur?”

  I giggled—too breathtakingly happy to do otherwise. “Then…yes. We are partners. Of a romantic sort. Which is good to hear, since I’m still in love with you.”

  “Hasn’t changed since this morning?”

  “Nope,” I said cheerfully.

  He kissed my temple. “I love you too,” he whispered.

  We walked in contented silence for a moment.

  “You know, Abe is going to lose his fucking mind when he finds out,” I mused. “But if Henry and Delilah can be engaged, he’ll have to deal with us too.”

  We were nearing the track—the site of unending physical battles between us. Just the sight of it sent a strange, nostalgic thrill along my spine.

  “When we get back, I’m going to talk to Abe,” I said. “Talk to him about keeping me out in the field as long as it doesn’t interfere with my computer nerd duties.”

  “Back undercover?” Sam asked.

  “I’m here to admit, with full confidence, that I’m fucking amazing as an undercover agent.” God, it felt good to say that. To feel that. I waved a hand behind me, toward the building that had served as a source of so much displeasure for us both. “Not becoming an agent was painful. But allowing that to shape my own sense of my abilities was even worse. It’s okay to let it go now.”

  I placed my palm directly over his heart, imagined I could feel it beating. He placed his hand over my own, entwining our fingers. Entwining our lives.

  “What did you say to your dad?” I asked. When he’d emerged from that office, he’d looked light. Unshackled.

  “He finally said that he was proud of me,” he said. My fingers tightened over his heart. “But I still told him it was time for me to leave. Right for me to leave. I think one of the reasons he likes having me work in Art Theft is because he can’t miss me. He can see me every day.”

  Sam’s eyes were soft, but his resolve seemed strong. “But that doesn’t mean I have to be an agent. I want to try something new. And he’ll have to accept that.”

  “I’m proud of you too,” I said, kissing his cheek. “Your mom would definitely be proud of you, Sam.”

  His answering smile was radiant with hope. “She would.”

  “We really are better together,” I said. “Undercover. And in love.”

  He pressed his lips together. “When we go back to Codex, will we have to admit that Abe was right all along?”

  “Never,” I promised. He cracked a half grin, and my toes curled again.

  “Is that Sam and Freya I see?”

  We both turned to find one of our former physical training instructors, whistle around his neck and ever-present clipboard at his side.

  “Instructor McAvoy,” Sam beamed, extending a hand. “What are you doing out here?”

  “I think the better question is, what are you?” The man was still healthy and hale though I knew he was nearing his seventies. “We’ve got the next class coming through next week. Just getting the field set up.”

  Instructor McAvoy shook my hand as well. “It’s lovely to see you both.”

  “Lovely to be seen,” I said. “We’re visiting the campus. Sam and I are heading back to Philadelphia soon. We’re private investigators there.”

  “Ah,” he said. “That’s where you ended up.”

  Sam nodded while squeezing my hand. McAvoy caught the gesture. Chuckled as he began to walk back toward the field course. “There was a bet going on about you two. I’ll have to tell everyone that I won.”

  I bit my lip, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Did everyone think we would end up banging?” I hissed beneath my breath.

  Sam called back out to our instructor. “Do you mind counting us down?”

  “What?” I said. Just as McAvoy said, “Uh, what?”

  “Come on,” Sam said. “Let’s race.”

  “No way,” I said.

  “Are you…scared?”

  I tossed my bag and paperback on the ground. Rolled out my neck. “Okay, let’s fucking do this, Byrne.”

  McAvoy was bemused. “Why do I need to count you down?”

  “Because she’ll cheat,” Sam called back.

  I crouched into a runner’s stance, fingertips grazing the red track. “Such an arrogant ass.”

  “Last night, you liked my ass.”

  “Last night, you liked my ass.”

  “On your marks,” McAvoy called out.

  Sam crouched next to me, face sly. Body loose. “You’re not afraid to lose, are you? I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time on this track.”

  I was starting to laugh—could feel it bubbling up in my chest. “Nope.”

  “Get set.”

  “You ready?” he taunted.

  “Oh, I’m always ready to kick your—”

  “Go.”

  The whistle blew—and my body flew forward with muscle memory, ingrained from hours spent racing Sam in this exact same lane. McAvoy was already leaving us to our antics, which was fine. I only had eyes for the broad back barely in front of me.

  “Not much of a runner anymore, Evandale?” Sam huffed over his shoulder.

  I pushed harder, caught up to him.

  “Too busy hunting down…book thieves…I guess…” I panted.

  He was trying not to laugh. I was trying not to laugh. And as we rounded the first bend, Sam Byrne swooped in to grab me around the waist.

  And we both tumbled to the grass.

  “I need to file a complaint,” I gasped. “You’re the cheater.”

  He pinned me to the earth easily, muscular body landing gently on mine. I hooked my legs over his waist immediately, loving this new position of ours. His chest was heaving, blue eyes bright with mirth. Then he was crashing our lips together in a kiss that spun my world. My mouth opened for his, tasting him, feeling the scrape of his stubble across my skin.

  “Too bad,” he murmured. “You’re the one who stole my heart.”

  I giggled, kissed his cheek noisily.

  He blushed furiously. “Was that too cheesy? I’m new to flirting.”

  “It was perfect. Never stop flirting with me.” When I licked my tongue back into his mouth, I tried my hardest to ease his worries. It would never be too much, this man that challenged me. Always. Pushed me, always. My former nemesis. My new partner.

  My new everything.

  “Some archnemesis you turned out to be,” I said. “Being your partner is a privilege, Sam.”

  “How so?” he asked.

  “Because you’re the best agent I know. And the man I trust to always protect me.”

  Another kiss—firm lips, mouth moving, a sultry heat building between our bodies.

  “Falling in love with my rival actually made my life better,” he replied. “I wish I’d known that seven years ago.”

  “Another thing we agree on,” I teased. “Now what do you say about finding that soundproof room in the library?”

  Epilogue

  Freya

  One week later

  Delilah and I walked into Abe’s office for our weekly staff meeting—and both almost fell down.

  “Are you sick?” Delilah asked him, red lips pursed.

  “Have you been replaced by your evil twin, who’s actually the nice boss?” I said, hand on my chest.

  Abe, to his credit, gave a slow clap in appreciation. “You slay me. Now sit and eat all of this damn food I got you for being incredible.” He indicated his desk, on which donuts and tacos were fanned out in a semi-circle. Donut, taco, donut, taco.

  “I’ve never seen anything this beautiful in my life,” I declared.

  Behind me, Sam and Henry ambled in—both cheering in surprise at the bounty in front of us. I heaped a plate filled with my favorite foods and sat next to Sam on the sofa. Ever since he officially joined the Codex team, we’d kept our hands to ourselves, and our bickering to a friendly minimum. />
  At night, Byrne and I were wild for each other, unfettered in our passion and craving. His knee brushed against mine, and the slight contact rocketed me back to the evening before. When I’d been naked and spread-eagle on my bed, served up for Sam to enjoy me like a decadent, three-course meal. Every orgasm earned me his husky voice at my ear. “You’re not tapping out on me, are you, Evandale?”

  I didn’t. Not for hours.

  “Why are we being celebrated for being incredible?” Delilah asked. “Or are we just generally amazing?”

  “While you are, indeed, amazing,” Abe said, “this is to celebrate the close of two extremely high-profile and lucrative cases.” He sat behind his desk, hands clasped loosely in front of him. “We just received a call from Louisa, Henry’s former boss, thanking us for recovering the missing Tamerlane. Which Interpol had failed to do.”

  Henry and Delilah exchanged a look of pure love.

  “I’m extremely happy to hear it,” Henry said. “And extremely happy it’ll return to its rightful home at the McMaster’s Library.”

  “As am I,” Abe said. He pinned Sam and me with a proud look. “Thanks to a little pressure from Francisco, we’ll be receiving full payment for recovering the Sand letters, even though we made a mess of things.” A pause. “A mess of things in a good way.”

  “Sam and Freya—messing things up in a good way since freshman year,” I teased, giving my coworkers an exaggerated wink.

  Sam, however, surprised me by kissing my cheek. “Nice work, partner.”

  “You too,” I grinned.

  “I’ll remind all of the couples currently in my office about my PDA policy,” Abe said.

  All four of us hid smiles.

  “Any news on the forged letters the other private detective firm recovered?” Henry asked.

  Abe flipped open a file on his desk. “Yes, actually. The FBI is working to find out who is responsible for that forgery, since it fooled everyone. Jim Dahl had been an intern for Francisco for six months before the theft. My theory is he had a forger he worked with on the side to pull it off. Stole the letters twice. Was paid twice.”

  “Smart,” Delilah said, shaking her head. “The thieves are getting smarter. The forgeries are getting better.”

  The events at The Grand Dame that night had been big news—an elegant auction for wealthy criminals featuring a shoot-out and broken up by federal agents. Rare antiques being sold in the basement of a beloved hotel to undercover private detectives. The tiger had been rescued and was being returned to the big cat sanctuary it had been stolen from. The Gutenberg Bible, the Tamerlane, and all of the other antiques were similarly returned. In the back of that basement, authorities had discovered stacks of authentication papers for each item—also all forged. The FBI was beginning to unravel the intricate web of secrecy involved in this underground auction that involved art lovers and white-collar criminals alike.

  It’d been a hot story, and Codex had received a slew of new cases in the past seven days because of it. We were lucky Sam was already studying to receive his private investigator’s license—we were going to need his help as Codex grew.

  “I spoke to my father yesterday,” Sam said. “The FBI formally arrested Roy Edwards, Dr. Bradley Ward, and the Alexanders. As well as many others there that night. Roy’s father hired one of the best criminal defense attorneys in the country. As did Ward and the Alexanders. We’re not sure what type of trial or punishment they’ll receive yet.”

  Abe nodded. “Par for the course for that crowd. If any of them serve real time, I’ll be surprised.”

  “Ward did lose his position at the university. Made quite a splash,” Sam said. “He claims, of course, that he is innocent of all charges.”

  “I’m sure Thomas thinks the arrest is all part of his curse,” I said. “Some kind of punishment by the universe for stealing Ward’s book.”

  Henry nodded. “Rare book librarians are generally an academic lot. But I will say, I’ve known many in my years who believed their departments were cursed by books or antiques.”

  I tapped my glasses. “Interesting. Maybe Thomas was right?”

  “Curse or not,” Sam jumped in, “The Empty House is a crumbling secret society. Bernard had Thomas and Cora steal Don Quixote from Ward and orchestrate the theft of the Sand letters. I’m sure Jim Dahl was their criminal contact for both thefts.”

  “Dahl remains missing,” Abe added. “Or whoever he is, since we can assume that’s an alias.”

  “That makes him a talented thief to be on the loose though,” I mused.

  “Indeed,” he replied. “And Julian and Birdie never had the flu. I think they’d conned too many people. They’ve probably moved on with other identities and are opening a rare bookstore in another city as we speak. They backed out of attending the festival because they feared their misdeeds would come to light.”

  “Their accounts have all been deleted,” I said. “Nothing on Under the Rose. No social media. Website and business pages closed. They fucked everyone over. Made money. Moved on.” I paused. “I don’t like having Dahl, Julian, and Birdie all unaccounted for.”

  Abe rubbed his jaw. “Neither do I. It’s unsettling, to say the least.”

  “And then there’s Roy’s blackmail threat,” Sam said. “He was a destabilizing factor from the beginning, turning against people and abusing their loyalty. Except Bernard Allerton doesn’t seem to care at all about true loyalty either.”

  “Bernard demands loyalty to him,” Abe said. “Loyalty to his criminal empire and the many ways in which he steals and sells rare books. But yes, if he’s taking manuscripts from his own followers and carelessly burning bridges, he must be extremely confident that he’s protected and safe. Especially since all four members of The Empty House could give up information on his whereabouts in exchange for a deal.”

  “He’s extremely confident and extremely greedy,” Henry said somberly. “Bernard plays the game, and he plays it well. But at the end of the day, he’s a man consumed by his lust for power.”

  The frustration felt by both Henry and Abe was obvious. How much control did Bernard truly have? Based on the way The Empty House members spoke of him, they revered him as a morally bankrupt god—the man who led them to their darkest desires, who brought them power in exchange for their wealth. Bernard Allerton was comprised entirely of secrets.

  Good thing Codex was quite adept at uncovering things that didn’t want to be discovered.

  “Well,” Abe said, “this is all talk for another day. And Sam can keep us in the loop if the FBI uncovers anything else regarding Dahl, Julian, or Birdie. Until then, we’ve got cases coming, books to recover, and a new employee to get trained.”

  I raised my hand. “I volunteer to train Byrne.”

  “Wish granted,” Abe said.

  Next to me, Sam grumbled into a taco.

  “You’re welcome already,” I said.

  “We’ll discuss this later tonight,” he growled.

  “Byrne never has taken nicely to my telling him what to do.” I beamed.

  “All joking aside,” Abe said, “we are happy to have you onboard, Samuel. You and Freya make a marvelous pairing. Both professionally and…personally.”

  Sam and I shared a shy look that sent heat to my cheeks.

  “I’m happy to have her as my partner,” Sam said. “I do believe the two of us can accomplish anything we put our minds to.”

  I was in a full-on blush attack. Delilah and Henry were shooting me the cheekiest grins.

  And even Abe looked slightly amused. “That’s odd,” he remarked casually. “It’s almost as if I taught both of you at Quantico, knew your strengths and talents, and guessed that together you were an unstoppable force that would bring honor and prestige to my private detective firm.” He shrugged, tossed a piece of donut into his mouth. “But what are you going to do?”

  “Don’t say it,” Sam whispered next to me.

  “How can I not?” I whispered back.

>   Abe merely waited with a passive expression.

  “Okay, you were right about me and Sam,” I blurted out.

  Delilah snorted into her coffee.

  “Thank you,” he said. “I know how it pains you both to admit when you’re wrong.”

  I looked over at Sam—couldn’t believe that two weeks earlier, we were glaring at each other as Abe forced us to work the George Sand case.

  “And while we’re going around taking credit,” Delilah said, “I’d also like to add a hearty told you so.”

  “Well…” I sighed. “I can’t stay mad at you. You’re too flawless, babe.”

  “Thank you,” she winked. “Welcome to the chaos, Sam. We’re happy to have you. Both personally and professionally.”

  “You got the damn book back,” Henry added. “And on your first try. It’s not easy, what we do here. But I think this team is the best one yet.”

  Sam shifted an inch until we were leaning against one another. My heart recognized the man next to me as the one I loved more than anything. More than tea and cookies and even books.

  “Now go get to training,” Abe said with mock sternness.

  Sam and I pulled the door closed to Abe’s office and stood in the large room.

  “How about we—” I started.

  But he swooped in and kissed me.

  “Sorry,” he murmured against my lips.

  “I told you,” I teased. “You don’t have to apologize every time you kiss me.”

  He kissed me again—with more fervor than was technically professional. I gasped against his mouth, smiling as we parted.

  “I love you, Byrne.”

  “I love you, Evandale.”

  His mischievous gaze found our sparring corner, with the long mat and punching bag.

  “Are you trying to spar with me?” I asked.

  “I have to start somewhere, don’t I? I’m game if you are.” That crooked, superhero smile was going to get me in a lot of trouble.

  We both stepped forward. Shook each other’s hands—no longer bickering trainees, vying for the top spot. But partners, vying for each other’s trust. Astonished at the depths of our love.

  I pulled him close. “May the best woman win.”