Page 147 of The Unlikely Pair

I wash my hands but am unable to get them to stop shaking.

I exit the lavatory without looking at Harry, but my legs don’t carry me too far, and I stagger over to a wall to prop myself up.

“It appears you are still a necessity.”

After this recess, I’ll have to go back into the Commons Chamber and watch the prime minister speak, and then Harry delivers his reply to the State Opening.

But right now, I need to remember how to breathe.

Harry emerges from the lavatory, looking as composed and immaculate as always.

“You ready to roll?” Harry’s bodyguard asks him.

Suddenly, all thoughts of Harry’s lips on mine are wiped clean by the echo inside my head.

An Australian accent from a pilot with a charming smile, his hat sitting jauntily on his head. “You guys ready to roll?”

Harry’s bodyguard just used the same phrase Kade did.

My gaze flies to his bodyguard as he and Harry set off towards the Terrace restaurant.

Harry’s bodyguard lifts his wrist to check his watch, and my eyes catch on the distinctive watch design with an orange dial.

And my stomach recoils.

I’ve seen one other watch like that in my life, digging into my shoulder when a knife was being held to my throat.

Harry’s bodyguard has the same watch as Kade.

As far as I know, the authorities still haven’t worked out how a plane chartered at the last minute for two members of the British Parliament ended up being piloted by someone intent on kidnapping them.

My heart thuds in my ears.

The same phrase and watch are trivial details, small things that could be a coincidence.

But I can’t stop dread from overtaking my gut. If there’s any chance Harry is in danger, I need to do something.

Harry and his bodyguard have moved off towards the restaurant. I trail after him, watching as Harry takes his seat at a table with Rupert Grange and three other members of the shadow cabinet.

I hover near the entrance, trying to appear casual, but my eyes never leave Harry’s bodyguard. He stands a few feet from the table, his gaze sweeping the room, ever vigilant. But now, every glance he casts seems laden with sinister intent.

I need to talk to Harry.

Summoning a deep breath, I approach the table.

“Excuse me, Right Honourable Gentlemen.” I glance at Harry. “Can I have a word?”

“Can it wait, Webley? I’m sure reminiscing about frostbite and building fires isn’t as urgent as our reply to the terrible policies your government has just set out,” Rupert Grange says.

I don’t take my eyes off Harry. “It’s important.”

Harry is already standing, pushing back his chair.

“Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, I’ll just be a minute.” He drops his napkin onto his plate.

He steps back from the table, gesturing for me to walk with him.

“Toby, I apologize,” he says in a low voice once we reach a secluded area at the back of the restaurant. “I didn’t mean to?—”