Page 106 of The Diamond in the Rough

“Raj—”

The big tiger shifter held up a hand, stopping whatever Hart had been about to say. “Finish up, and fast, and let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“Kid got the safe open,” Hart said, then, and Raj turned those gold-brown eyes on me.

I expected him to say something. I wanted him to tell me that I’d done a good job, but I expected at least an acknowledgment.

He said nothing, just looked at Hart, who pushed the door open wider.

“Explosives?” Raj hissed.

“We’ve had that chat already,” Hart replied dryly.

A muscle ticked in Raj’s jaw, and I saw his nostrils flare as he breathed in and out a couple times. “What do we have?” he finally asked.

“Hadn’t quite gotten that far yet,” Hart replied. “You want to do the honors?”

Raj grunted, then stepped in front of it, between me and whatever was in the safe. As though I didn’t already know most of it.

“Pair of revolvers,” he said, his voice matter of fact as he pulled on a fresh pair of gloves and pulled it out, handing it to Hart to put in an evidence bag. “Look antique, although clean and in good condition. Potentially still useful.”

Hart bagged them, then radioed for someone to bring him an evidence box before setting the guns on the corner of the desk.

“Cash, a lot of it,” Raj said next, then handed wrapped bundles of bills out of the safe to Hart, who ended up having to use three evidence bags. The agent who brought in the filing box after the second bag let out a low whistle, which both Hart and Raj ignored.

“Wooden box,” Raj said, and now he must have been describing whatever it was Jennings wanted kept safe.

“Be careful,” I blurted, and the tiger shifter stopped, his hand partway into the safe.

“Something I should know?” he asked sharply.

I swallowed. “That’s really important to him,” I replied. “I don’t know what it does, because he didn’t think about that, just that this was really important, and he didn’t want to keep it upstairs.”

“This asshole has used charmed objects before,” Hart said. “Maybe let me?”

“And you touching this is any better than me, why?” Raj asked him.

“I come with magical defenses,” Hart replied. “Elf shit. If that fucking thing is magicked or cursed or whatever, I’ll know before I touch it. You won’t.”

Raj grunted, but he must have seen Hart’s point, because he stepped back from the safe, letting Hart take his place. The elf blew out a breath, then reached in hesitantly.

“It’s got something,” Hart reported. “It’s all tingly and shit, but I think that’s because what’sinthe box is magic, not the box itself.”

“Are you going to hurt yourself if you touch it?” Raj asked him.

“I don’t… think so,” came the response. “Here goes fucking nothing.” Raj’s shoulders tensed, and I felt my own stomach flip a little as Hart’s arm muscles bunched, but nothing terrible happened, and Hart withdrew a wooden box about half the size of a shoe box. Raj held out an evidence bag, then worked it over the box without tipping it so that they could carefully set it inside the filing box.

“That it here?” Raj asked, and Hart grimaced.

“I guess. We really should do a more thorough sweep?—”

“We’re out, then,” Raj replied. “Before we find something that does take off somebody’s hand.”

I felt completelyand utterly foolish. I was sitting in the passenger seat of Raj’s Subaru, trying not to let either my breathing or my heart rate reveal just how nervous I was to be sitting there, waiting for Raj to finish talking to a few other agents and then take me home.

I was conflicted about that, too.

I wanted Raj to be the one to take me home because I wanted to spend time with him—but I also didn’t want to experience the awkwardness of him still being annoyed with me, especially because it was justified.