Gunnar moved with unexpected speed, pinning Bryn against the counter.“Make me.”
“Your hip…”
“Is fine.”To prove his point, Gunnar lifted Bryn onto the counter.“See?Good as new.”
“Show-off.”Bryn rested his hands on Gunnar’s shoulders, thumbs brushing along his collarbone.
“I think you enjoy being manhandled.”
“I tolerate it.”I fucking love it but I’m not confessing that yet.
They were interrupted by someone knocking on the apartment door.
“Expecting someone?”Gunnar asked, stepping back.
“At eight in the morning when we’re supposed to be on leave?Not likely.”Bryn hopped down from the counter.“Perhaps it’s Emmett and he doesn’t want to use his key.”The knocking continued, getting louder.“Whoever it is, is annoying.So it’s probably Giles.”
“I’ll get it,” Gunnar said.“You’re not dressed for company.”
Bryn glanced down at his shorts.“Fair enough.”
Gunnar peered through the peephole, then groaned.“You were right, it’s Giles.”
“You have got to be kidding me.”Bryn retreated to the bedroom.“Tell him to go away.”
“I can hear you, Bryn,” came Giles’ muffled voice through the door.“And I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.”
“It’s always important with you,” Bryn called back, pulling on a pair of jeans.“That’s the problem.”
Gunnar opened the door.“You’d better have a damn good reason for being here, Giles.We’re both on recuperation leave, remember.”
Bryn emerged from the bedroom, now dressed but scowling.“Whatever you’re selling, we’re not buying.I’m enjoying bed rest.”He caught Gunnar’s eye.
Giles stared at him.“Oh God, you two are going to be even more unbearable now, aren’t you?”
“You shouldn’t be here.”Bryn tossed Gunnar a T-shirt.
“Yes, I’m well aware.”
“You’re going behind Warden’s back?”Bryn asked.“Now I’m interested.”
“I thought that might pique your curiosity.I have a situation that requires your particular talents, Bryn.Specifically, your ability to discern the truth.”
“And this can’t wait until we’re officially back on duty because…?”
“Because we need to confirm who stole a historically significant artifact from the Boston Museum of Antiquities, and I want to be certain before we make an arrest.”
“What kind of artifact?”Gunnar asked.
“An ornate dagger.A fifteenth century Ottoman ceremonial knife with ivory and silver inlay to be exact.”He handed a folder to Bryn.
Bryn flipped it open.A photograph showed an intricately designed knife with a curved blade and a hilt encrusted with silver work and ivory panels.“Pretty.”
“And worth two million dollars on the black market.It was stolen three days ago.”
“Inside job?”Bryn asked, studying the photo as they all moved to the kitchen.
“Almost certainly.”
