Page 19 of The Best Thing He Never Wanted

He looked down at the tiny replica hanging from the ring.

“Thanks.” He shifted his weight. “I feel bad. I didn’t get you anything.”

She laughed. “I know. I didn’t expect you to. It’s not tit for tat. I saw something and wanted you to have it, that’s all.” Her smile faltered. “If that’s all right with you.”

He reached out, wanting to connect with her somehow and not knowing how else to do it. He rested his hand on her shoulder again. She hadn’t seemed to mind when he did that earlier. “It’s more than okay, Bea. Thank you. It means a lot.”

A hint of pink touched her cheeks, and she shrugged. “Anyway, we should probably get back, shouldn’t we?”

She started walking again, and he fell into step beside her, turning the keychain over in his pocket as something warm settled behind his ribs.

As they made their way up the steps at the entrance to the hotel, he was still working out how to buy himself more time with her. There was a bar inside. Maybe he could suggest …

Her phone began to ring from inside her purse. “Oh, sorry. I hope you don’t mind, but I should check if this is …”

“Yeah, of course. Take it.”

The more sensible part of his brain was shouting, Saved by the bell. Let her take the call and get your ass out of here.

She checked the screen and shot him an apologetic look. “I really should…”

“Yeah, of course.” He gestured for her to take it. “I’ll leave you to it. This was great. Thanks, Bea.”

He turned on his heel, leaving her in the lobby while he headed for the elevators.

He jabbed at the button, cursing himself.

There was no damn reason he needed to disappear like that. He could have waited. He could have asked if she wanted to go to the arena together later. Or at least said when and where they’d see each other again.

He glared at the indicator above the elevator doors. Of course, this time it was descending rapidly, without making him wait even a minute.

Back in his room, he took the keychain out of his pocket and attached it to his keys. Then he folded the museum bag neatly, logo out, and tucked it away inside his wallet. He stared at the wallet for a moment, wondering why the hell he’d done that. Then his phone rang, and he made a face at Cash’s name on the screen.

He should answer. He could at least tell Cash that he’d done what he was told and gone sightseeing.

“Hey, Cash. What’s up?”

“What are you doing in the hotel? I thought you were under orders to go sightseeing.”

“Who says I’m in the hotel?”

“You saying you’re not?”

“I am, but I just got back. Been out for hours.”

“You have? Seriously? You’re not shitting me?”

“Nope. Spent the afternoon in the British Museum.”

“Well, damn. That’s one for the books.”

Blane stared out the window at the alley below. It really was one for the books as far as he was concerned, but he wasn’t about to share that with Cash.

“So, was it any good? What did you see?”

Blane smiled. “Saw the Rosetta thing. It’s a stone, by the way, not just a thing. And you had it wrong—the Magna Carta isn’t there. It’s in the British Library.”

Cash chuckled. “Fair enough. I’m just impressed you went. What made you do it?”