Page 36 of Undercover Savior

“Apparently, even at eight years old, you were a catch.”

I chuckled. “I have photos that would prove otherwise.”

“She must’ve known your parents, err, owned a castle.”

“We were living in Ballater because my father had work at Balmoral.”

“Makes sense. I don’t remember much about him, but I do recall your mother was beautiful.”

I rested my cheek against her head. “She was.”

“It’s sad she passed so young.”

“She and my father. Earlier today, Gus reminded me that my grandfather on my dad’s side is the only one of the four who lived much beyond fifty.”

“What about your mother’s parents?” she asked.

“Sadly, there was an estrangement I never knew much about.”

“Are they still living?”

“I’m not entirely certain,” I admitted. “What about your parents?”

“My mum and dad are still with us. I don’t see them often. She can be quite, err, overbearing.” She shifted so I could see her face. “You used to pull my hair.”

I smiled. “My apologies for doing so.”

“This is awkward, right?”

I tightened my arm around her shoulders and squeezed. At first, I thought I’d make light of it. How could it not be? It hadn’t been twenty-four hours since I’d whisked her out of a parking lot where, if I’d followed the orders relayed to me by my handler, she would’ve breathed her last breath. What if it hadn’t been me who was called to assist MI6? What if it had been Tag? Or another of Unit 23’s assassins? I shuddered, thinking about what may have happened.

“I knew it was you last night,” I confessed. “What I mean is, even if I hadn’t been told your name, I still would’ve known.”

“I suppose I should be very grateful you did.” Her eyes scrunched. “That didn’t come out the way I meant it. Iamgrateful. I must be honest; I’m also terrified.”

The conversation we’d had earlier today about Eric Weber in itself was troubling, at best. There was still the question of why a man with the kind of power he appeared to have would want a reporter at Sullivan’s level dead. Unless she either had far more on him than she was willing to admit or she hadn’t yet figured out the significance of the things she’d unearthed in the course of her investigation.

It reminded me of the conversation I’d soon have to have with Con. And then I recalled he was meeting with Fallon Wallace this evening about the Crown Herald’s data breach.

“I hesitate to change the tone of our conversation.”

“Don’t.”

I studied her.

“I’m serious, David. I already feel as though I’ve lost five years of my life during the last twenty-four hours alone. Just for tonight, can we focus on happier times? Those when we didn’t have a care in the world?”

“We can do.”

“Did Tag say something about dinner? I’m suddenly starving.”

“What do you say we take matters into our own hands?”

“Do you know where the kitchen is? I mean, castles have kitchens, right? I’ve not been in one where anyone actually resides in it any longer.”

“Never tell Mrs. Drummond I said so, but not only is Tag’s kitchen nicer than Ashcroft’s, but his cook’s food is better too.”

“You never should’ve told me that, David.” It occurred to me I’d never heard anyone address him that way.

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