Page 119 of Pervade London
“Anyone close to us is at risk.”
“Find someone else who does what he does.”
“There is no one.”
“Are you jealous of what he can do?”
“God, no. His gift is a curse.”
“How do you think of him? Simply as a genius?”
“He’s even beyond that. He’s unique.”
“You knew where he was the whole time. You spied on us.”
“I gave him the time he needed to decompress.”
“Then you came for him.”
James smiled. “I let him have you. I allowed you to have him.”
“How generous.”
“I have my moments.”
“We share the experience of knowing what it is to love him,” I said. “The intensity of his affection.”
He strolled over to one of the bookcases and paused before it. “How adventurous are you?”
“Turns out I’m really adventurous.”
He thumped the bookcase with his fist.
It made me jump and tea swooshed around in my mug. Nothing spilled out, thank goodness, as I was standing on a Persian rug.
A door swung open revealing a dark passageway. A throwback to when the castle was at risk of being under siege.
“Where does it lead?”
“Want to find out?”
Heading into the dark unknown with him was potentially a bad idea. “What about my drink?”
“Bring it.”
I blew off a niggling feeling of doubt and followed him into passageway, a chill meeting us as we entered the darkness. James walked beside me with the confidence of a man who knew every inch of this place. The only noise I heard was our footsteps and my shaky breaths. Even if danger loomed, I was mad for letting him put distance between myself and Xavier. Enough distance to silence my screams. And yet…this was exhilarating.
Hewas exhilarating.
James gave a panel a punch and another doorway opened. We stepped into a living room that was cozily decorated and modern and for the first time I had a sense of James’ true taste in furniture and the arts.
He shut the door behind us.
I wanted to trust this moment, trusthim, but he was a hard man to read and that hint of the sinister about him put me on edge. Despite that, it was wrong of my thoughts to go there, back to the way he’d touched me in the bedroom. The way he’d tasted, or even the way his body felt crushed to mine. This was me craving more time with him. I was being honest with myself, at least.
“These are your private rooms?” I said.
“My living quarters.”
