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Fuck.
Alec couldn’t even think the words. He pulled away from her and pressed his forehead to the wall. He took a deep breath, then another, and another, until his heart rate was close to normal. “My protection may mean nothing to you.” Lottie began to protest, but he plowed on: “But if anything ever happened to you because of me, I would…I would…” He could not will himself to say the rest.
In all the years he had been doing this, he had never had to consider anyone else’s safety besides his own before. Now her very life could be in danger because of choiceshehad made.
It was simply too much.
Lottie placed her hand on his wrist. He was trembling. “You would what?” she said softly, pressing her thumb against his flesh.
Alec turned his head toward her but kept his other hand fixed firmly to the doorjamb. She watched him closely, those green eyes were searching for something. Desperately. A very large part of him wanted her to find it. To find him once again. Alec dug his nails into the worn wood frame. It began to splinter under the weight of his worry. And his want.
“I don’t know.” His mind buzzed with a hundred different thoughts and fears, each one worse than the last. “Christ, Lottie,” he whispered, harsh and urgent. “I don’t even know.”
She leaned in a little closer until her scent mingled with the charged air between them. But just as her lips parted, the door of his flat swung open.
Rafe Davies, fellow intelligence agent, occasional flatmate, and the closest thing Alec had to a friend these days filled the doorway with a delighted grin on his face. “Terribly sorry to interrupt, but I got tired of waiting for you to come inside.”
Alec recovered from his surprise and immediately tucked Lottie behind him. “You’re supposed to be in Egypt.”
Rafe ignored his sharp tone. “Change of plans. You know how it is.” He shrugged and peered over Alec’s shoulder. An easy enough task, considering he was several inches taller. “Hello, there,” he said to Lottie, flashing her a dazzling smile. “I’m Rafe. And who might you be?”
“Don’t answer that,” Alec growled, then he grabbed Lottie’s hand and pulled her into the flat.
Unease rippled through his body as Alec stalked across the flat’s receiving area and through the large, light-filled parlor. He didn’t stop until he reached his bedroom door and flung it open. Anyone with half a brain could guess what they had been on the verge of doing.
A mistake.
“Go inside and wait for me,” he murmured.
For once Lottie didn’t protest. She merely nodded and slipped into the bedroom, but not before she glanced behind him. When the door was safely shut, he spun around. Rafe watched from across the room, looking like the cat that got the cream. He would be expecting the full rundown, as usual. But this was different. This wasLottie.
As Alec walked toward his friend, he tried to return that smile, but it felt more like a grimace.
Rafe pointed his chin toward the bedroom. “I see you picked up something on your trip down south. I thought you didn’t like English women.”
“What makes you think she’s English?”
Rafe let out a hearty laugh at his caginess. “I heard you talking in the entry hall, you oaf.Andthe landing.”
“Were you listening by the bloody door?” Alec scoffed.
“Well, you weren’t exactly quiet,” Rafe pointed out, still amused. “Why, I don’t think I’veeverheard a woman speak to you that way.” Then he tilted his head, considering. “Come to think of it, I could say the same for you. And here I thought you were a gentleman.”
Rafe was a few years older and had served the Crown far longer, first as a naval officer before his recruitment as an intelligence agent. His father, the late earl of Fairfield, had been working in the diplomatic service after the death of his first wife when he met Rafe’s mother, an eccentric young actress on the cusp of stardom after one of her performances. Rafe spent most of his childhood abroad, due to both the nature of his parents’ careers and the scandal their marriage created. His four half siblings still refused to acknowledge his very existence. Yet Rafe rarely seemed bothered by this and instead embraced life with a breezy joie de vivre that was at turns irritating and infectious. Now he eyed the door with a level of interest Alec couldn’t stand.
“She’s a redhead, isn’t she? Bit hard to tell under that absurd hat. Is she as feisty as she sounded?”
Alec’s hands fisted. “Fuck. You.”
That caught Rafe by surprise. Not an easy feat. “Why don’t we sit down. I’ve brought a bottle of that beastly local wine I know you like.”
Alec shook his head. “I’m busy. And you can’t stay here. State your business and then leave.”
Rafe gave him a pitying look, as if he were an obstinate child crying over nothing. “Alec, you know I can’t do that.”
They stared at one another for a solid minute, but they both knew it was only so Alec could maintain some shred of dignity. Rafe was a damned good friend. Alec would have to find a way to thank him later when he didn’t hate him quite so much.
“Fine,” he grumbled and sat down hard on the flat’s threadbare sofa.
