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Was I imagining the heat in her eyes? Was the way she dropped the word intended to be innuendo?
“I should, you know, go.”
“Of course.” I helped her with her chair. “What about tomorrow?” I asked when she stood.
“I’d like that very much.” She leaned down and scribbled her number on the paper, right beneath her drawing. “Bring this with you, if you wouldn’t mind. I’d like to keep it.”
“So me framing it and hanging it near my bed is out of the question?”
Eliza leaned forward, stunning me when she brushed my lips with hers. “Maybe I can sketch another.”
I watched her walk away and met Saint’s eyes when she got close. He slowly shook his head.
What else could I do but smile? And I did. Broadly.
While I waited for the barmaid to come around with the ticket, I studied Eliza’s drawing. As rough as it was, I knew the finished piece would fit perfectly in my house in Portugal. It was in Algarve and sat on a cliff overlooking the ocean. It was my haven, and already, I could imagine taking Eliza there. Even the two of us living in the house I’d meticulously designed and didn’t visit often enough. I’d never invited anyone into my home, male or female.
I was not an impetuous man. Spontaneous had never been a word used to describe me. Yet I knew Eliza and I were meant to be together. She was the person I’d been waiting for my whole life, without my realizing anything—or anyone—was missing.
“Where did Eliza run off to?”
I glanced at the name on her badge. Cora. “She’s dining with her cousin,” I told her.
“Pity.”
I rarely struck up a conversation, but Cora’s word choice intrigued me. “Why’s that?”
She winked. “I could tell she’d much rather be with you.”
“Do you know her well?” I asked.
“Years and years, in fact. Since we were kids. She always had a hard time of it, you know? Thankfully, she had Niven.”
As curious as I was, I’d not press Cora for more details. I wanted to hear Eliza’s stories from her. Not secondhand.
I paid the ticket, leaving a generous gratuity, then removed the paper Eliza had asked me to bring along when I saw her tomorrow from the table. I wasn’t joking when I’d asked if framing it would be out of the question. I really wanted to. However, I’d give it to her because she wanted it and I could never deny her.
As I left the pub, I glanced at the table where she sat with Saint. Her eyes met mine, and she smiled. Her cousin looked over his shoulder and scowled.
I walked the short distance to my flat, wondering if he was confessing our history. Based on her smile, I doubted it. However, his scowl made me think he intended to. I should’ve come clean immediately, but what would I have said? That her cousin was responsible for the deaths of several fellow agents, including the man I considered my mentor? I could hardly admit I hated a person she appeared fond of. But how close could they be? They were cousins. And from what I’d heard, he was working with Rile DeLéon. Rile.
I reached for my mobile and rang him.
“Typhon! I wondered when I’d hear from you.”
“You could’ve made contact, if only to inform me you’d hired Saint.”
He sighed. “The decision to do so wasn’t mine alone. He and one of my partners worked an op together, and afterwards, he suggested bringing Saint on board. And before you hear it from another source, he and his now-wife were there when Kensington and I married.”
I regretted not being able to attend and said so.
“It is to be expected in our line of work. I harbor no hard feelings,” he responded.
“How is Kensington?”
“Ah, the light of my life. The reason I take a breath each day.”
“She’s lovely, my friend,” I said.