Page 29 of Wicked Games
“At the time, I did love him very much. Later, I realized what I had actually felt was lust and infatuation. I know the difference now between love and lust.” The tender look in his eyes made me want to cry, scream, and fuck things up. “He is someone I respect, and ruining his life would never be okay with me.”
“Ruining his life? That sounds so extreme.”
“Ry, in some cultures, they execute gay men. You must know this.”
“I do, but you said he was a British officer, and they…”
“He was born in the UK, but his family wasn’t.” Lucien looked out the window, looking lost in thought, but I knew his mind was working overtime wondering how much he should or could tell me.
“Lucien,” I said, pulling his attention back to me. “You have no reason to believe me, but I’m going to say this anyway. What you tell me will not leave this room, and I’d never use this information to hurt you or anyone else youcareabout.”
A wry smile crept across his face. “I love it when you get jealous.”
“Shut up.” I forked fluffy scrambled eggs into my mouth while Lucien thought things over.
“He is a blood relative of a foreign leader who would rather see him dead than lie with another man. He could be a king someday, Ry. I cannot be the person who destroys that for him.” Sensing we were on surer ground, Lucien took a bite of his limp bacon.
“Do you mean in the Middle East?” It was obvious he wasn’t talking about Queen Elizabeth’s throne. I didn’t think they were launching anyone off the tops of buildings in European nations for being gay.
“Yes, and it’s all I’m able to say,” Lucien said.
“I’m okay with not knowing more about the guy,” I assured him then groaned at his knowing expression. “I’mnotjealous.”
“You are, and it gives me new life.”
“You know what you can do with your—” My hands froze in the air when I realized what I had been about to do. “Never mind.”
“It’s only a matter of time,” Lucien said smugly.
Ignoring him, I said, “Okay, this Banks guy used the images to blackmail you to work for him, right?” Lucien nodded. “He’s clearly an unsavory type, so how can you trust he’s telling the truth about these supposed stolen artifacts? How do you know he isn’t the one with forged documents?”
“It’s a very valid question, and I’ll show you the evidence after we finish eating.”
I had to admit, the part of me that cherished theIndiana Jonesmovies and played Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego games until my eye crossed was intrigued to know more. Every time I thought of a question, two more popped into my head.
“Hey,” Lucien said softly. “This isn’t one of those games where you have limited time to complete your tasks. If you think of a question tomorrow, then you’ll ask it.”
“What about next week?”
“Then you’ll ask it.”
“And next month?” I asked. Lucien opened his mouth to answer, but I held up my hand. There was no way in hell he could guarantee he’d answer my questions at some distant spot in the future. If he had that kind of freedom, he wouldn’t have disappeared without a trace in Paris or Cairo. “Let’s focus on today.” I stamped down a wave of desperation to focus my energy.
I forced myself to finish my breakfast even though I’d lost my appetite after realizing nothing had really changed between Lucien and myself, except I learned he hadn’t chosen this life.
“Come take a look at this,” Lucien said, rising from his chair.
I followed him over to the sofa and sat beside him. A laptop and a thick file were on the coffee table, and I watched in awe as Lucien opened the laptop and placed his thumb over a glass window next to the mousepad. I could see the soft green light glowing as the scanner came to life. On the laptop screen, a rendering of Lucien’s thumbprint showed up seconds before it beeped and displayed a message: Good afternoon, Lucky.
“Banks monitors our computers, so I need this to look like I’m accessing the normal case file. Banks knows I’m investigating potential leaks in the latest case. I need to be careful about accessing additional files unless I can come up with an excuse that ties them together.”
“Me,” I said. “I’m your common denominator.”
“That’s the last thing I want Banks to find out, love.” Lucien was so busy typing he hadn’t noticed he’d called me love. I wanted the slip to mean the endearment came from a deep place inside him incapable of lies and subterfuge, but I was still afraid to believe. Then I realized the rest of what he said.
“What do you mean?”
Lucien’s face morphed into his how-much-do-I-tell-him expression again.