Page 140 of Pervade London
This was madness…this giving in and letting go. Perhaps my walking away would be the most sensible thing I’d ever do.
Yet…
“Thank you for giving me the chance to decide.” I studied him. “You already know my decision.”
“Agree to obey me in all things. It’s the only way I can keep you safe.”
“Yes…” I let out a shaky breath. “I agree.”
“I’m about to test your promise, Em.”
How?
I shivered, but there was no real fight left in me. I was too consumed by this heady mixture of affection and intrigue.
“Thoughts?” he pushed.
“You’re a complicated man, James.”
“You have no idea.”
He’d entrusted me with more details, even if the veil still covered my eyes.
“What’s your part in all this, Sir Ballad?”
“Small steps, Emily.”
A knock at the door drew my attention. We both stared off at the man who’d poked his head in.
The policeman threw me a respectful nod and then gave one to James. “Sir, I’ve been told to advise you that Hawk has arrived.”
“Good.” James gave him a thin smile. “Thank you.”
When he left I turned back to James. “Hawk?”
“Let’s grab a tea first.”
“Where is that?”
“Down the hall.”
After a quick stop-off for a cup of tea—which was so James—we made our way down the sprawling hallways and on through another grand door. His comment that he coulduse meshould have scared this undergraduate who’d once had a simple life. But intrigue was too strong a pull for my ego, which was being caressed by a promise that I could offer something more to the world than just making music and playing in an orchestra. I could play a part in something even greater.
Halfway down the hallway, I realized my mistake.
“James, the folders!” I said, panic-stricken.
“You left them in the ante-room,” he said calmly. “On the coffee table.”
“Yes.” I went to turn back. “I’m so sorry.”
His strong arm wrapped around my waist and he hugged me to him. “You’d make a lousy spy, Ms. Rampling.”
He seemed unperturbed and continued on into the House of Commons with me by his side. Scanning his face for signs of anger, I considered pulling away from his grip and hurrying back for the folders. Maybe they were empty after all, merely props to deceive others.
James took my hand in his and led me up the steps toward the back wall. We made our way along the rows of seating until we reached the end. He’d chosen the upper most area, far from anyone and private enough to allow us to talk.
The place was quiet. Only a handful of men and women sat on the lowest seats, talking softly. We were far away from them in the lofty seats and they seemed not to notice us.
