His mouth formed an O, as though he were going to whistle, but he made no sound. Turning back to his computer, he went to work entering our information and sneaking curious glances at me every so often. My mind was working overtime. And I was sweating.
I didn’t know this guy. Dan trusted this guy, so I had to trust him, too. But I hated—hated—trusting people I didn’t know. I’d rather walk a tightrope between two skyscrapers than trust my well-being to a stranger.
Speaking of trusting people, the papers Dan had handed over were copies of my passport and birth certificate, my real passport and birth certificate. I had originals of both in my bag, so where the heck had he obtained his copies?
Equally confusing, and even more concerning? That meant Dan already knew my name.
Which led me to wonder, what else does he know?
The breadcrumb trail Eugene had helped Zachariah Tyson assemble pointed everyone seeking Kathleen Caravel-Tyson to a heavily guarded compound in Russia, owned by my father’s good friend, Sergey Kroft. The board of directors had been led to believe I lived just outside of St. Petersburg, where I’d been receiving an education from private tutors for the last ten years.
When I ran away, my father couldn’t bear the embarrassment of what I’d done, so he’d crafted a story and used a trusted web of people to make it look real. When I reemerged, I did my part by responding to inquiries about my absence with vague answers.
But my cousin had figured out the truth, obviously.
“Okay, all set.” Luis stood from his stool, his gaze flickering to mine and then away.
It was exactly how people treated me whenever I went to Boston, even by a few members of the board. Like all that money in my bank account meant I could steal their soul and feed it to Cerberus, who I obviously kept chained at a compound in Russia.
Luis passed me the folded sheets of paper as well as a new one: the marriage certificate. “Just—uh—bring this back and you’ll—uh—sign it when you—um—when the—when Lee does the ceremony.”
“Thank you.” I reached for the papers, intent on picking them up, but Dan appeared at my side and covered my hand with his.
I’m not going to lie, I liked it when he did that.
“Thanks for this, Luis.” Dan removed the papers from the counter and I heard him unzip my backpack; he slid them into the main pocket. “Saves us a lot of trouble.”
“No problem,” Luis answered a little too loudly.
Dan seemed to hesitate at Luis’s tone, his movements halting mid-zip of my backpack. Dan glanced at me, then to Luis, then me again. “Something wrong?”
Luis shook his head quickly.
I twisted the buttons at my sleeve, not knowing what to say and figuring, I think it freaks your friend out that I’m worth seventeen billion dollars wouldn’t help the situation, especially if Dan only knew my real name but hadn’t yet realized who I was.
“Oh, wait. She got you, didn’t she?”
I looked to Dan and found him aiming a big smile at his friend, chuckling.
Luis’s stare landed on me, suspicion and confusion written all over his features.
Draping an arm over my shoulders, Dan pulled me against him and leaned a little over the counter, whispering loud enough that I could hear, “Do you really think some billionaire heiress would be getting married to the likes of me?”
Oh . . . okay. So he does know. Well darn.
I was hot, and my heart thundered between my ears, and I was confused, too confused to speak. What else could I do? I followed Dan’s lead.
Giving Luis a self-deprecating shrug, I hoped it was believable. Dan squeezed my shoulders, smoothing his hand down my back until his strong arm settled along my waist; everything about his touch felt possessive, like he was putting on a show for the benefit of a single audience member.
Luis looked to me and then at Dan, the stiffness easing from his features as he blew out an expansive breath. “She really had me going.”
Dan chuckled some more, shaking his head at Luis as he backed away from the counter, bringing me with him. “See you next week. And hey, bub. If you see Brady and Giselle, tell them we say hi.”
“Ha-ha.” Luis rolled his eyes, but was also smiling. “Get out of here.”
Keeping me tucked to his side, Dan maneuvered through the sparse collection of people waiting to be called to a window, past reception, glancing behind him as we exited through the front door.
Once outside, his smile fell suddenly and completely away, and he steered us down the steps to the sidewalk. “I should have anticipated that.”
“What?” I kept my eyes forward, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. With all this thinking I was doing, I was surprised my brain had extra capacity for movement.