Jack Foxx flashed her a grin. “Good luck,” he said.
Abby turned to Gage, who tipped his head toward his office. Shoulders straight, she walked past him into the room, and Gage closed the door.
“I can’t believe you’re thinking of going to Mexico,” he said, cutting straight to the point. “After what happened in the Superstitions, I thought you’d come to your senses. Dammit, you almost got killed!”
“We knew the risk before we started.”
“You need to face the truth. Your grandfather wants you to keep searching for the Devil’s Gold because he couldn’t find it. That’s the way it is with people like us. Once we sink our teeth into a treasure, nothing can stop us until we’ve either found it or we know for sure it isn’t there.”
“The gold is there—the ingot we brought home proves it exists. At least come with me to the bank. We’ll see what’s in the box. If there’s nothing there to convince you, I’ll . . . I’ll stop searching.”
Gage fell silent.
“One more thing,” she said, working up her courage, forcing back the emotion hovering far too near the surface.
She managed to spit out the words. “I realize . . . after last night, things are . . . umm . . . different between us. I knew from the start you’d get bored with me and be ready to move on. It doesn’t mean we can’t work together like we did before.”
Gage’s blue eyes widened. He looked truly astonished, a hard feat to accomplish. “What are you talking about? Why in the world would you think I’m bored with you?”
“You don’t want to sleep with me anymore. I thought that meant—”
“For God’s sake, Abby. Last night was incredible.” Gage caught her face between his big hands and kissed her, long and deep. “I’m hard right now just looking at you. I can imagine a hundred different ways I want to have you.” He glanced toward the desk with a hot gleam in his eyes, and Abby flushed.
“I was an idiot this morning,” he said. “The nightmares . . . I don’t like thinking about the past. It isn’t fair you should have to deal with it too.” He ran a finger down her cheek, and she felt a warm shiver. “There’s no way to know how long this thing between us will last, but if you’re willing to put up with my . . . baggage, my bed is exactly where I want you to be.”
The pinch in her chest said how much she wanted the same thing. Her heart squeezed. She was in so much trouble with this man. “What about the treasure?”
Tension settled in his thick shoulders. “Let’s go see what’s in the box. The bank’s not open yet. While we’re waiting, we’ll pay a little visit to your cousin Jude.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
ABBY CLICKED HER SEAT BELT IN PLACE ASGAGE BACKED THEROVERout of the garage.
“What’s the address?” he asked.
“I don’t know the exact address offhand. It’s on North Williams, right across the street from Little Cheesman Park.”
Gage headed in that direction, turned onto the street in front of the park, and drove slowly so she could find the house.
“Right there.” She pointed toward a stately old two-story, redbrick-and-stucco home that sat among a row of well-cared-for older residences.
“Nice neighborhood, and not cheap by the looks of the homes around it.”
“The houses here are worth over a million.”
Gage flicked her a sideways glance. “You said your cousin lived with his parents, so this is their place?”
“His mother’s house. Aunt Olivia is a widow. The house belonged to my uncle Joseph, King’s nephew. The home has been in the family for several generations.”
“Plenty of room for Jude,” Gage drawled. “Though I couldn’t imagine living with my mama when I was thirty years old.”
Abby smiled. “That’s because you’re a man, and Jude has never grown up.”
“He’s obviously a greedy little prick without much of a conscience or he wouldn’t have sent his thugs after you in the first place.” Gage cracked open his door and stepped out on the pavement in front of the house. Abby climbed out and joined him.
They walked up a concrete path that crossed a wide expanse of neatly trimmed lawn, up the steps to a covered front porch. Ignoring the bell, Gage hammered on the door.
When no one answered, he hit the doorbell a couple of times, tension rolling off him almost thick enough to see. When no one came to the door, his anger seemed to swell, which Abby understood. The longer they waited, the clearer her memory of Ray Peters holding a gun to her head became. And her cousin Jude had put him up to it.
