Warriors of Poseidon 06 - Atlantis Betrayed

around other magic?” he asked, putting his arm around her shoulders and steering her toward the exit, following the crowd of media still shouting questions at Fairsby.
    “No, but—”
    “Mine does. That’s how I knew you were there, outside the door of the jewels room before the guard opened the door. Trust me, that man is not strictly human.”
    She pulled free of his arm and headed for the gate. That was the problem, of course. Trusting him.
    Blackmail and wild sex did not make a terrific foundation for trust.
    Ahead of them, Fairsby reached the street and slid into the backseat of his car, which immediately pulled away from the curb. The reporters took several final photographs and then turned around, almost as one, to face the Tower gate.
    The Tower gate she was walking through.
    Damn.
    The first one recognized her and it was all over.
    “Lady Fiona! Lady Fiona Campbell! Over here, Lady F,” the lead photographer shouted, aiming his enormous camera at her.
    At them, she realized, panic sweeping through her. She was about to be captured on film with Christophe. For all she knew, he could be a wanted fugitive.
    “What are you doing here? Were you here for the press conference? What do you think? Are you going to write a book about the Scarlet Ninja?”
    As they barraged her with questions, she tried to edge away from Christophe, but he was having none of it. He put his arm around her shoulders and grinned at the journalists. She gritted her teeth around a smile.
    Atlantis Betrayed – Warriors of Poseidon 06
    Page 61 of 188
    “I was just here showing my friend the sights, when we happened to see the crowd gathering,” she said, as politely as she could manage. “Was that a press conference?”
    The whirring of cameras sounded like a horde of locusts attacking, and she fought to remain calm.
    Publicity was the very last thing in the world she wanted at this moment.
    “Who’s the guy? Is this a new man in your life?”
    “No,” she said.
    “Yes, definitely,” Christophe said, flashing that sexy smile of his.
    Two female journalists and one male in the front row nearly swooned.
    “I’m going to kill you,” Fiona murmured, smiling for the press.
    “I get that a lot.”
    Of course, their different answers sent the reporters into a feeding frenzy.
    “Who are you, anyway?”
    “Are you Scottish, too?”
    “Are you an author?”
    “How long have you been together?”
    “You can call me Christophe,” her partner drawled. “Not Scottish, not an author. Just Fiona’s bodyguard.
    Those kids at book signings can get kind of frisky, can’t they, darlin’?”
    He winked, as if sharing a great joke with the crowd, and they ate it up. Stupid charming man. Fiona shuddered to think of what the morning papers would be like.
    More questions flew at them, this time mostly directed to Christophe. Fiona tried moving him along, but the fool was enjoying it.
    “We haven’t known each other long, but it was love at first sight, wasn’t it, sweetheart?”
    Her face went hot, and from the intensifying sound of the cameras clicking, the photographers caught it all.
    “Christophe is just having a bit of a laugh. We’re only just friends. Thank you all, but we’ve got to be moving along.”
    When the crowd showed no sign of dispersing, she came up with an inspired idea. “Of course, I’d be glad to talk about my new book, The Forest Fairies. I first thought of the idea for the book when—”
    Atlantis Betrayed – Warriors of Poseidon 06
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    As if she’d sprinkled a little fairy dust herself, the reporters magically found other things they’d rather be doing. Amazing how interviewing an author about her book wasn’t nearly as interesting as murder and mayhem.
    “We’re leaving. Now.” She marched toward the street, texting Sean to meet them.
    “Whatever you say, Princess.”
    “If you call me that again, I’ll let Hopkins shoot you.”
    He laughed all the way to the car.
    Campbell Manor
    Fiona had never been so glad to return to her home. After the painfully long drive in the Saturday afternoon traffic, during which she’d done her best to ignore Declan’s chattering and Christophe’s responses, she practically flew out of the car.
    As usual, Hopkins was standing in the doorway. “Anything you wish to tell me? Shall I offer my congratulations, perhaps?” His usual dry tone dripped frost.
    “Funny. Did you see the press conference?”
    He moved to let her pass by him into the