Page 36 of For Better or for Ransom

In all his years as a professional investigator, he didn’t remember a case where he was so lost. Not even when Sol had been accused of theft and he’d been utterly smitten by her, he hadn't been so clueless. On that particular occasion, Sol’s reputation had been in danger, but she hadn’t been threatened physically. Here they didn’t know what they were facing.

On top of that mess, or perhaps making interference and causing some of his brain to malfunction, there was his realization that he wanted to be Sol’s husband. He was sure of that. He’d never wanted anything that clearly. When it came to her, it was all or nothing. He was set on working unrelentingly toward getting the coveted title and then Divya had had to crush his resolutions and plant doubt: Would he still want to marry Sol if that meant leaving London? What would he do if he had to choose between one or the other? And why was he hyperventilating?

“Luke, are you okay?” He’d been pacing like a maniac on Sol’s rooftop terrace and now she was also there with him. Her brow was knitted, her lips tight. She was worried about him. Was he okay though?

“I have no clue what’s happened with bloody Pascual,” he finally admitted. And that alone lifted some of the weight on his chest. He was still breathing as if he’d just finished a forty-minute run at his personal maximum speed.

“I know.” She took her fingers to his messy hair, combing through it. And, for the first time that afternoon, she unabashedly looked him straight in the eyes.

They stood like that, one in front of the other, for a few seconds. His heartbeat was slowing down. He sighed, relieved. But even if she had the most calming of effects on him, he still needed to get his head straight. He owed it to Leonardo Pascual.

Sol leveled a razor-sharp glare in his direction. “I feel there’s something else you aren’t telling me.”

He breathed deeply, and was about to give her an explanation—an excuse more likely.

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure that out,” she continued. “Later. I know you need to finish the case first. I think I have an idea of what to do next.”

“You do?” He smiled at her. She was brilliant.

“I do.” She returned the smile.

···

Sol

“Divya is going to kill us when she finds out we’re sneaking out without her,” Luke protested but there was mischief in his voice.

“I think she’ll be perfectly fine.” Sol dismissed him. It was fair to say that she was both exhilarated but terrified at the same time.

“How are you so sure?” He arched one of his eyebrows—visible even though he was wearing a black baseball cap pulled low—and they kept walking side by side on the pedestrian street.

“She said she wanted to talk to Moon,” Sol said, making sure her own cap covered her face well.

“They should be done with the conversation by now, bella,” Luke teased her. Sol savored the use of that particular nickname. He hadn’t called her bella since they’d first started flirting and fooling around, cara being his preferred endearment for her.

“I don’t think they were only going to talk, Luca,” she teased him back.

He stopped midstride in the middle of the street, his brows drew together in reflection, then he smiled mischievously. “Ooooh!”

Sol laughed. “Oh, indeed.”

“Yeah, she won’t mind that we went ahead without her.” He kept smiling.

“Plus, apparently this is a two-person operation.” At least that’s what he’d told her when Sol had explained her plan to Luke.

Now that they were reaching their destination, Sol wasn’t sure if she would have preferred Divya to be there in her place.

“Right, we’re here.” Luke’s head pointed toward the entrance of the Casanova theater.

“Let me check you one last time,” Sol grabbed his hand to make him stop in the middle of the street again. The contact created an almost electric current where they were touching. She longed for that touch—for him.

Not now. Later. She shook her head, cleared her mind. She was made aware once again how that case was allowing them to get acquainted with each other in a new way. She treasured the chance.

She gave him a thorough once-over: from the dark sneakers, black pants, and equally black and baggy long-sleeved T-shirt, to the black baseball cap. She even tucked one of his loose locks of hair under the hat. He was almost unrecognizable. Of course, she’d be able to recognize him anywhere but to the random passerby—or security camera—he looked like an unremarkable person dressed in black and with indistinguishable features. Sol herself was sporting a similar look.

“Okay, let’s go,” she said.

“Nervous, cara?” His eyes were bright with a type of excitement Sol had learned to recognize in him. It was the thrill of the investigative chase.