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"Aye, that's what I thought. I've never been insanely attracted to a lass either, so we're struggling with the same problem. Aren't we?"
"Yes. It seems like we are."
I spread my hands over my thighs and stare down at them while I try to figure out how to handle this situation. An abrupt change of topic would feel weird. How can I steer the conversation in the right direction?
"Go on," Errol says. "Tell me about your expedition."
"I've already told you most of it, but I do have some information I've held back." I chew on the inside of my cheek while I study Errol, trying to gauge his reaction. But I have no idea what he hides behind those beautiful blue eyes. "Have you heard of Isaac Hartman? Everyone calls him the Artifact Bloodhound."
Errol's brows shoot up. "The amateur archaeologist who made a series of important discoveries? Aye, of course I've heard of him." He stares at me for a moment. "Are you related to the Bloodhound?"
"Yes. He's my father."
Errol's jaw goes slack. He just stares at me for so long that I think time must have stopped, but then his mouth slides into a sly smile. "That's why you're hell-bent on finding the Grand Canyon treasure. Your father put you up to it."
"No. I put myself up to it. Dad stopped going on expeditions a few years ago, and he won't even talk about the Grand Canyon treasure anymore. They broke him."
"Who broke him?"
I hug myself, suddenly feeling chilled. "My father was a respected avocational archaeologist. That means he never earned a degree in the subject, but he was an expert. Dad was a lot like you, actually. Dad traveled all over the world to hunt for relics, and he was able to do that because we had family money, inherited from my grandfather. Mom died when I was little, and I don't really remember her. Dad was my whole world, and he took me with him on his expeditions whenever he could."
"Sounds like you're very close with your father."
"Yes, I am. Or I used to be." That chill just won't go away, so I rub my arms. "Dad told me to give up on the Grand Canyon thing, but I've kept going. He was ridiculed for starting a search for the treasure, and he wound up totally demoralized, to the point where he won't even talk about archaeology or ancient history anymore."
Errol rests an arm across the sofa's back as he tips his head side to side—analyzing me, I'm sure. "Why have you kept going after your father gave up?"
"I need to vindicate him. Prove he was right."
"And show those tossers what they missed out on, eh?"
"Maybe that's part of it." I scoot over to get closer to him without invading his personal space. "But my main goal is to prove he was right. The treasure does exist."
"You're doing this because you hope your father will be grateful and become his old self again."
How does Errol know that? He's a smart man—a genius, some would say, at least when it comes to solving riddles—but I just told him about my dad a minute ago. He shouldn't have been able to figure out the truth in a heartbeat. But he did. And that proves he's the only man for the job.
It also makes me want to kiss him.
"You said your father had family money, past tense," Errol says. "Have you sunk all of it into this barmy expedition?"
Damn, he's intuitive. "Yes, that's what I did. Can you understand now why I've been hell-bent on talking you into coming on this expedition?"
"Aye, it makes sense now."
I tuck my legs under me and turn fully toward him. His eyes transfix me, and his body turns me on, but I need to focus on the mission. "Before you make your decision, I need to ask you a few questions. Okay? I've just told you my reasons for this quest. Now I need to understand you a little better."
"All right. Ask away."
"Why haven't you done any treasure hunting since your adventure with Magnus and Piper?"
Errol bows his head, not speaking for a moment. Then he looks up at me and sighs. "There are three reasons. One, my partner quit the business, and I relied on his money to finance our treasure hunting. He met a lass and fell in love, then moved to New Zealand to be with her. Without his funds, I cannae afford to go on adventures."
"I get that. But you said there are two more reasons."
"Aye." He bends his arm, the one that rests on the sofa's top, and props his chin on his fisted hand. "After the mission in Istanbul with Piper and Magnus, and the assault on Dùndubhan after that, everything else just seems…boring. Even treasure hunting, which I used to love, doesn't pique my interest anymore."
"I suppose it would be hard to top that. What's the third reason?"
