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"...Mr. Powell is going to tell me where the second tomb is."
"He is?" asked Bryce. Maybe the connection between here and wherever Lara was in Cambodia was bad, and he'd misheard.
"Well, unless he gets my half of the Triangle and kills me. Which he will not."
He decided then that he hadn't misheard. "I don't understand."
Bryce could almost hear the smile in her voice when she answered. "You don't have to." Then she hung up.
Bryce shook his head wearily and glanced over at his computer screen -- and nearly jumped out of his skin at the reflection of a tall figure looming over him menacingly.
His head whipped around, only to see Hillary, who had crept up behind him to eavesdrop on the conversation.
He sagged back in relief. "Bloody hell, Hilly, you scared me."
The butler exhaled sharply and folded his arms. "Where's she off to now?"
"Venice, I think."
"You think?" he repeated disapprovingly. "You didn't bother to find out for sure?"
"You know Lara, Hilly..."
"Yes. All too well." He frowned and sat down beside Bryce. "She sometimes forgets how her actions affect those closest to her."
Bryce nodded in agreement, but said nothing. He knew better. When Hillary got like this, it was usually best to do just that. Let him fuss, complain, blow off steam. Listen patiently and quietly. And afterwards, offer up a diversion...something to distract his attention, at least for a little while.
"This isn't just another archaeological investigation, you know," the other man proclaimed. "It's secret societies, worldwide conspiracies, and an artifact of such great power that these people would kill for it without a second thought."
"Then she's the best person to go up against them," stated Bryce.
"Why does she always have to go in alone? Why not take a SWAT team, or a small group of well-trained commandos?"
Bryce couldn't help but smile. He knew the real meaning behind the butler's words; he felt the same way, but he had long since given up on trying to talk Lady Croft out of doing anything she'd already set her mind to. "Hilly, we can't always be there to keep her safe. She knows what she's doing. We have to trust her."
He paused for a moment, then looked intensely at Bryce. "...I worry, you know."
"I know," he replied simply. He moved a little closer to the other man, rubbing his arm. "I know how to take your mind off it."
The butler rolled his eyes. "Please. Do you think that your amateurish attempts at seduction are going to make me forget the danger she's in?"
"Seduction?" Bryce repeated, pulling his hand away in mock indignation. "That was the furthest thing from my mind. I was thinking more along the lines of some computer games. I've got a new outer space adventure, one with lots of explosions and lasers..." He raised an eyebrow at the offended expression on Hillary's face. "...unless you _want_ me to try another of my 'amateurish attempts at seduction', of course." He leaned in, and began to unbutton the other man's shirt. The butler made no move to stop him. "Which aren't so amateur, since you give in to them every time."
"True," he admitted. He cleared his throat, as if trying to stay focused on what he wanted to say. "But that still has no bearing on the danger Lara's in."
"She can handle it," Bryce assured him, smiling as he ran his hand down the other man's chest, down to the fastening of his trousers.
The butler gazed at him through narrowed eyes. "And you can handle me?"
"At every opportunity," Bryce declared, leaning forward for something he knew would distract his lover even more. He was not disappointed. He never was when it came to finding something to occupy Hillary's mind...or indeed, any other part of him.
Because at times like this, Bryce always knew just the sort of diversion that both of them needed.