Page 56 of To Catch A Rogue

Lark paused, and turned on him abruptly. "I think it best if we both forgot about last night."

"What are you scared of?" He examined her face. "I'd never hurt you."

"That's not the point."

"You're acting irrationally."

"It's a perfectly rational response. This is... confusing. It's so sudden. We're barely managing to negotiate friendship again, let alone something else."

The muscle in his jaw twitched. "Then let me know when you've had a chance to think it through, Lark. It's not going to go away."

He stomped down the stairs ahead of her, forcing himself to swallow his temper. A restless night spent tossing and turning hadn't helped his mood.

"So what does today hold?"

"Gemma wants to speak with us. She's got a lead." He walked backwards along the lower hallway. "That's if you can handle working with me anymore."

"As long as we keep it strictly business."

His brow twitched.

Be patient.

She'd let him kiss her last night. That had to mean something.

"Strictly business it is," he lied, and opened the door to the sitting room for her. "Found her."

Gemma, Obsidian, Byrnes, Ingrid, and a tall, dark stranger were all waiting inside.

"Charlie, Lark, this is Luther Haas, a Russian-based spy of Malloryn's." Gemma gestured to the man in the shadows.

"Ah." Charlie held out his hand. "You're the intel."

"Indeed." The man's voice sounded like rough gravel. His beard gleamed with silver strands, but from the breadth of his shoulders, he was still in the prime of his life. "And you're the thief."

"Sometimes," he replied. "Malloryn's been corrupting me. Thinks I'd make a better spy."

"We've got a possible location for Malloryn's whereabouts." Gemma stabbed her finger into the map on the table. "This is the former Saint Petersburg residence of the Grigoriev family. Grigoriev Dvorets. It's in ruins now. I believe there was some sort of fire the night the former prince was murdered, and nobody has taken up residence. It's allegedly haunted, so the locals stay well away.

"Apparently Sergey Grigoriev has been coming and going there at odd hours every couple of days. One of Luther's men has been keeping track of him from a distance."

"Sergey Grigoriev," Charlie mused. "Why does that name sound familiar?"

"You might have seen it on the family tree in Obsidian's file. He was the cousin of the former prince and became heir when the entire family was killed." Gemma exchanged a look with Obsidian. "Five years ago, Balfour sent Obsidian to guard Sergey. And Malloryn sent me to obtain certain lucrative information from him. Obsidian wouldn't let me near him. It's how we met."

Ah, of course.Charlie glanced at Obsidian. He'd been the one to find the file and had seen the names of the allegedly dead Grigoriev children inside it. Though Obsidian hadn't spoken of it, there had to be a reason it was in Obsidian's file.

And when he'd met Gemma he'd been using the alias Dmitri Zhukov. Nobody knew if Dmitri was his real name, or if it was merely a cover he'd been given by Balfour.

But the eldest Grigoriev had been named Dmitri.

Obsidian grunted under his breath. "We know Sergey and Balfour were working together then and we have to assume they're still allies. If Balfour expected us—as now seems likely—he may have seen Malloryn hidden elsewhere, where we wouldn't think to look."

Charlie circled the map, his brain starting to come alive with possibility. "An ally who would deny him nothing. Somewhere close where he could visit if he wished. Safe. Secure. I assume the palace is secure?"

"Some of it," Luther replied. "Half of it was gutted in the fires that started in the family's bedrooms. I told my man to refrain from getting too close. Sergey's no longer there, but we don't want to startle him if our theory is correct, and the palace must surely be watched."

"Show me which parts are ruins," Charlie said.