Page 3 of Pervade Montego Bay

He refrained from saying what I knew we were both thinking: The last time Xavier had lefthim. This time, he had left because of me.

“When?”

“The day after you boarded Mr. and Mrs. Zane’s yacht.”

“You think it’s because of me?”

“I believe it’s because he thinks I wanted you to be there that day.”

“Why?”

He looked away. “I hinted at your usefulness.”

“That’s not what you meant, though.”

“What I meant was that you were good for Xavier.”

And I’d been the one to tell Xavier that James saw value in me…

“I can see why he might think it was your idea,” I said warily. “But I went on that yacht of my own accord. I was selected to be part of a concert from the Academy. It was about my career. Andrew Woo was a guest and as the senior conductor, he was the one who could get me into the London Symphony Orchestra.”

My hero, world-famous violinist Diana Zane, had also been aboard that night. After seeing her in concert as a child, I’d begun playing the violin. Not attending the event on board the yacht would have felt like a betrayal of the little girl I’d been who had once dreamed of playing before her idol. I’d sacrificed too much to give up that chance—studied for too many years to abandon my gift.

Though the night had turned deadly.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I pushed away the memory of the Russian man being shoved over the side of the yacht to his death. It had been a facet of Ballad’s identity I’d chosen to ignore because the raw truth of what he was capable of disturbed me.

I’d made a choice that evening…

Regret saturated my bones. Even after all that risk and betrayal and deceit, I still hadn’t landed a coveted place in the orchestra. It had gone to a fellow student, a girl whose father had paid for her place with a generous donation.

I’d been left with nothing.

No, that wasn’t true. James had given me the house in Primrose Hill and the memory of being there with him…with them…had been all I’d clung to over these last few weeks.

To think I’d honestly believed we were going to be reunited in Jamaica. The loss of this hope caused my heart to ache.

“I’ll explain it all to Xavier,” I said.

“We’re out of touch with him, Em.” His tone was harsh.

Pressing my palm to my chest, I ran through the kind of danger Xavier could be in and the vulnerability he faced because of his genius nature. His complexity drove him to make perilous decisions. Like the one he’d made the evening I’d first met him. Stranded in Piccadilly Circus tube station with no money and nowhere to live, he’d risked staying with me for one night.

No words could convey the terror I felt for him now.

“It’s my belief—” James’ tone was filled with sadness. “Xavier feels betrayed by us.”

“That’s why you invited me here?” My throat tightened with the realization of James’ motive. “Us being here will draw Xavier out of hiding?”

“More specifically, you.”

James didn’t say the words I’d been expecting to hear—that he loved me.

Instead, all I’d found here was trouble and cold detachment.

My body slumped against the boat and it swung back on its structure. James stepped forward and caught me, his right arm wrapping around my back as he yanked me toward his chest. He held me suspended with his mouth dangerously close to mine, both of us captured in a moment of intimacy.

In his arms there came that familiar illusion that there was something special between us—a connection that should stretch beyond the confusion and have us finding forgiveness in each other. I saw the longing in his eyes, and his lips brushed against mine as though neither of us could prevent it.