Page 90 of The Devil's Deceit

“Hey.” Christian rubs his eyes, then stretches. The covers slip down his body. I run my gaze over him, my stomach cramping for a different reason. “Feeling better?”

“Much.”

“Good. C’mere.” He slides his arms around me and anchors me to his side. “I had a dream last night that you left me. It was fucking awful.”

My stomach’s in knots. Is there such a thing as premonitions that masquerade as dreams? Though it’s not that I’ll leave him, more that he will throw me out. Will he do ithimself, or have one of his bodyguards do it? Or perhaps he won’t throw me out at all. Maybe he’ll keep me here so he can punish me day after day. The truth is I haven’t a cluehowhe’ll react, and that’s the scariest part of all.

“I’m here.” For now. I can’t bring myself to say, “That’ll never happen”. I’ve told enough lies.

“I thought I might ta—” A loud hammering sounds at the outer door to the apartment. Christian frowns. “Hang on.”

He tosses back the covers and strides into the living room. I scramble to tug on my dressing gown to follow him. As I proceed into the living room, I catch the tail end of a conversation he’s having with his dad.

“—leave in five minutes.”

“What’s going on?”

Christian turns to look at me, then beckons me closer. “Remember the photograph you found in my office? The one I tore up?”

“Yes. The one of your uncle.”

“That’s the one,” Charles says, eyebrows lowering over his eyes. “I’m sorry to drag Christian away when he only returned home last night, but it’s important.”

“He’s been spotted,” Christian explains.

“Where?”

“Nelasos.”

I frown. “Where’s that?”

“A small island about thirty miles from mainland Greece,” Charles says. “We have to get there fast before he moves on again. This is the first solid sighting we’ve had since he disappeared. Downstairs in five, Christian.”

With another apologetic tilt of his lips, he whirls around and strides down the hallway toward the staircase.

“Shit.” Darting past me, Christian disappears into the bedroom.

I hurry after him. “What can I do?”

He nudges open the door to the bathroom and grabs his toothbrush, squirting toothpaste on it. “Can you pack me an overnight bag? Enough for a couple of days.”

“On it.” I hurry into the walk-in wardrobe and reach for a holdall. I yank two pairs of trousers and two shirts off their hangers and fold them as best I can. “Do you want shoes?”

“No. I’ll wear what I travel in.”

“Okay.” I lay two pairs of boxer shorts on top of the clothes.

Christian appears with his bag of toiletries. I take it from him and tuck it down the side.

“Passport?” I ask.

He points to a stack of drawers. “Top one.”

I retrieve his passport while he gets dressed. Four minutes after Charles appeared and unwittingly ruined my plans, Christian kisses me. I cling to him, absorbing his heat, his strength, the feel of his lips for what will be the last time.

“I’ll call you once I know what’s happening.”

He picks up his bag and, with a last look over his shoulder, leaves.