Page 21 of Under Arthur’s Protection

“I’m not a big believer in coincidences.” She straightened, sliding the laptop back toward me. “If the only two instances you can find of this symbol are on the sword and in the church, plus one says key and one says door⁠—”

“You can read Latin, too?”

She canted her head at me. “Too?”

Get out of your head, Gwen. “Never mind. You don’t think it’s silly for me to fly all the way there for this?”

“Not really.” She folded her arms and pursed her lips. “I contracted with you on behalf of the FBI because I trust your expertise. But is there something else going on here? Is this about the break-in last night?”

I was suddenly back in my hotel room, realizing the bathroom light was on. Realizing the laptop was gone. Watching Arthur’s shoes track across the floor.

Then my brain went further back, to the last time someone took my work. To Lionel’s name, where mine should have been, and the soft, certain way he’d explained how the academic world worked when I’d first shown him the published paper. And when I’d told him to fix it and put my name at the top, his soft words had twisted. He’d called me a research assistant and claimed everything I did belonged to him.

Everything I did.

Everything I was.

It had all belonged to him for a time.

“Gwen?” said Sam.

This mystery was mine. No one was taking it from me. “The church dates to the twelfth century, and thus far, I’m operating on the belief the sword is seventh century. But provenance is about facts, not belief.”

Still staring at me, she said, “So you need to go to Cornwall.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I think I need to go to Cornwall.”

The petite black-haired woman appeared in the doorway, popped a gum bubble, and said, “Hey, Sam, those knight guys are here.”

A completely irrational flash of heat traveled through me. Arthur?

“Thanks, Lucy. Can you show them up?”

Lucy nodded and disappeared down the stairs.

When Sam turned back to me, I asked, “Knight guys?”

“The Round Table Security guys were scheduled to deliver the results of their facility review. That’s probably Arthur and Lance.”

My throat tightened. Last night I’d thrown myself into my ex-boyfriend’s arms and sobbed, while the sexiest man I’d ever met cleared the room with a gun. I dropped back into my chair and crossed my legs, trying not to lean into the unexpected throbbing between my thighs.

God, Gwen, you’re a professional. Act like one.

“This is a pretty exciting mystery.” Sam unfolded her arms and looked at my printouts again. “I have to confess, I’m jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“If it were my case?” She chuckled. “I’d already be at home packing my bags.”

Past her, through the glass wall of the meeting room, Arthur and Lance appeared at the top of the stairs to the mezzanine. Both of them wore scowls and looked as tired as I felt.

Sam turned and put out a hand, shaking with each of them in turn. “Morning, gentlemen.”

“Morning.” Arthur scanned my spread of images and printouts. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Excited.” For the research. Just the research.

Except Dream-Arthur picked that moment to drag his fingers through my hair.