Last night she’d tried to do this for me. Tried to hold me, to be there for me when I’d cracked open and shown her something I’d never shown anyone. And what did I do? I ran. Walked out of that room like the coward I was.
But she hadn’t run after I’d told her about my mother. She’d stayed. She’d kissed me anyway. And now she was falling apart in my arms, and I couldn’t make myself let go. A small sound escaped her, half sob and half something else—almost a laugh. I didn’t ask what was funny or ironic or whatever had caused that strangled sound.
I just held her tighter.
Chapter 24
Grace
The Zurich trainstation was cavernous and loud. Voices echoed off high glass ceilings, off trains sitting in their parallel platforms, off a million signs directing me in every which way. I stepped off the train feeling almost human again. A nap and a few more chapters of my Marine-protects-the-witness romance had blunted the sharp edges of my earlier breakdown. Not gone. Just manageable.
Garrett was two steps ahead, scanning the platform, that familiar watchfulness in his gaze. He didn’t know what Henri looked like—unless Arthur had sent him photos already—so he must have been scanning for threats. Nothing new there.
Except there was so much new. Last night, I’d kissed my growly protector, dreamed about him all night, and masturbated to those fantasies in the morning. How could all of that have happened in twenty-four hours? Last night felt like a lifetime ago.
And of course, four hours ago, when we’d pulled out of Paris’s station, I’d cried all over his shirt. It felt like I’d been a sniffly mess for over half an hour, but it was probably closer to ten minutes. Maybe five. But he hadn’t pulled away and hadn’tgiven me the brain-chemistry speech. He’d just been there to hold me.
I let out a little sigh, deep inside my chest where he couldn’t hear it. I wouldn’t be able to read SEAL romances anymore after this. Not after so much time in Garrett’s arms, even if it was just to cry. Or I could make sure I got in one more hug to memorize the sensation, then read more of them and remember.
Focus, Grace.
“There.” Dmitry pointed toward the end of the platform. “Henri.”
The man walking toward us had to be in his early eighties, but he moved like someone much younger, weaving through the thinning crowd with purpose. His silver hair was swept back from a face set with deep lines. He was taller than me by a few inches, but far short of Garrett. His eyes kept darting to the people around him.
And he was rolling a small hard-sided suitcase behind him. That wasn’t a sign he was escorting us to his hotel, was it?
“Garrett?” I said.
“I see it.” He stepped closer to me.
“Dmitry.” Henri clasped the Russian’s hand briefly, then turned to me. His gaze softened as he took my hands. “You have her eyes.”
“Her?”
“Delphine.” He said the name as if it were something sacred. Before I could respond, he was moving, motioning for us to follow. “We need to go. The train to Prague leaves in fifteen minutes.”
“Prague?” Garrett fell into step behind my left elbow.
“Platform fourteen. Over here.” Henri pointed toward the adjacent platform, where a blue-and-red train waited.
Garrett’s attention snapped to Dmitry. “You didn’t say anything about Prague.”
“Because I didn’t know.” Dmitry spread his hands. “Henri, why didn’t you call me?”
“I didn’t want to create a panic over the phone.” Henri led us to the end of platform sixteen, then across to platform fourteen where the night train waited. “I’ll explain everything once we’re aboard, but a man came to my hotel an hour ago, asking questions about any American contacts I might have.”
My stomach dropped.
“What did he want?” asked Garrett.
“The egg, of course.” Henri glanced back at us. “I told him nothing. But the questions he asked—he knew things he shouldn’t have. It made me uncomfortable enough I packed the moment he left.”
Garrett pulled out his phone.
Henri continued, “I bought four tickets in the sleeper cars for us.”
“Only four?” asked Garrett. “Where are your people? Bodyguards, assistants, someone you travel with?”
