Page 85 of Beloved Sacrifice

Marek frowned in confusion, but Rose nodded, as did Tristan.

Tristan knew that, along with identifying the members of the purists, Weston was looking for something he could use against them. One of the reasons the Admiralty had given him sanctuary was so he could look into the unsavory group. He’d promised to tell the Admiralty if he found evidence that the Grand Master was a purist. Weston had never been sure what they would do if he told them that the leadership of the Trinity Masters had been tainted.

Tristan didn’t know that Weston now suspected the purists had stolen something from the Admiralty, and built their wealth and power by taking advantage of the hideous tragedy of the Second World War.

Rose met his eyes, and Weston gave the barest shake of his head, hoping she understood that she couldn’t repeat what he’d told her yesterday.

“You only have two days, Wes. Let me help you liquidate your accounts, move things around.”

“No, Dorset first.”

“Why do you have to liquidate your accounts?” Marek asked.

Weston smiled grimly. “The Admiralty plans to burn me. They created the Wesley Derrick identity and they can take it away just as easily.”

Rose straightened. “Tabby—will Tabby be okay?”

“Yes,” Tristan said. “We’re aware of Miss Anderson’s condition and needs, and have no hold on or control over her situation.”

Marek was frowning, but Rose nodded and stood. “Let’s go.”

“Ms. Hancock, you too are free to go, though you’ll have to leave England,” Tristan said. “When I arrived yesterday it looked like you were attempting to escape. And based on the reports of the altercation from yesterday, you aren’t here willingly.” Tristan raised his brows. “Though I’m not quite sure who was keeping you prisoner and who was rescuing you.”

“Don’t worry about it, Blondie,” Rose said. “First Weston kidnapped me, then Marek. I’m just a very kidnappable sort of person.”

“I wasn’t kidnapping you, I was rescuing you,” Marek protested.

“I saved you from being crushed by several tons of cave-in,” Weston growled.

Rose just raised her dark brows, looking at each of them in turn.

Tristan, looking a bit miffed by the “Blondie” comment, said, “Just to be clear, everyone is here willingly?”

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“At least until someone else kidnaps me.”

Marek snorted out a laugh and Weston grinned. Damn, he loved this woman. She wasn’t the girl he’d fallen in love with. She was hard in some ways, bitter—and had every right to be—but she was funny and wry and smart. The woman she was now wasn’t the woman she would have been if he’d managed to get them both out twelve years ago, but she was one hell of a woman.

Weston pushed away from the sink. “Let’s go.”

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