Page 110 of Falling Princess

“She was smart to pick visible clothing,” I whispered to Cata on the afternoon of the first day, gesturing to my friends. “I look like I’m going to a funeral.”

“You look fine. Professional.”

Our suits were the same style and cut. Little wonder she defended the minimalist look.

By mid-afternoon, my energy waned. Translating is mentally taxing. I’m not a trained professional. We could, in theory, hire one, but never do. After a lunch with three economists, trying to find words for things likeliquidity trapthat don’t have direct equivalents in Auralian, I was exhausted.

I was also frustrated by the number of times I’ve been mistaken for a low-level functionary. It’s bad enough being a woman amongst so many men. Each time Lorcan physically stopped someone from touching me inappropriately, I wanted to scream. Bankers and economists are shockingly handsy, as it turned out.

Or, maybe I unwittingly invite that kind of response. It keeps happening, after all. I wish I knew how to stop it.

When a light touch skimmed down my arm, I turned suddenly, prepared to give the intruder a dressing down, but it’s Lorcan. My mouth snapped closed.

“You seem worn out. Raina and Cata can translate the next panel session. Would you like to take a break?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

We made our excuses, collected our coats and ventured out into the wet, snowy winter to our hotel. It’s a five-minute walk. The fresh air was reviving.

After the debacle of our trip to the safe house, I finally bought a decent black wool coat, so we blended in completely with passersby on the sidewalk. Better than I did in Beijing, anyway. I stuck my hands in my pockets because I neglected to bring gloves, and to prevent from reaching for Lorcan’s arm. He kept a wary eye on all activity around us.

Nor did he relax once inside our hotel lobby. I told myself it was the strain of pretending there was nothing between us in the face of so much scrutiny. We leaned against the walls of the elevator on opposite sides. Cameras. Can’t risk being caught.

We played the flirty eye game without speaking. Lorcan’s mouth quirked up at the corner. Tension rose with each numbered floor.

By the time it dinged, my panties were damp and the only way I wanted to lie down was with him on top of me.

Inside our hotel suite, I took his coat and hung it in the closet, then peeled off mine and placed it on the hanger. I toed off my pumps and left them where they fell. Lorcan swept the room, as is his custom.

Alone. We’re alone.

Room clear, he returned to me. I didn’t say anything, just pulled him close for a kiss. Finally. After weeks of proximity without physical contact, my every nerve screamed for his touch. Lorcan grunted and anchored me to his front. He greedily palmed my ass. When I tilted my hips against his, he was hard against my belly. A hollow, needy ache bordering on pain opened within me.

“I can’t go back in there with your makeup all over me,” he murmured, kissing down my throat. I got my hands under the hem of his suit jacket and tried to tug the crisp white shirt out of the waistband of his pants, but I was hampered by the handgun I found holstered at the small of his back. I grabbed his butt instead and drank in his groan.

Then came a noise. Lorcan released me so fast that I staggered back against the entry table. The pistol was in his hand before I could get my vision to focus.

Seeing him turn into an assassin in the blink of an eye was, I am sorry to say, incredibly hot.

The door from the men’s rooms opened. Bashir came out, red-eyed and trailing the scent of his beloved weed. Lorcan holstered his weapon.

“What are you doing back here?” he demanded, grumpily.

As though it weren’t obvious. Toking on the balcony. Gods in garters, Bash’s use has gotten out of hand.

How did Lorcan miss him when he checked the apartment?

With shaking hands, I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Taking a break. Same as you two.” Bashir inclined his head at me, and I can only hope he’s too out of it to notice that I was five seconds away from pushing Lorcan onto the nearest surface and having my way with him.

“Are you headed back now?”

“Yeah. I’m meeting Raina for the presentation on global macroeconomic conditions.” Bashir shouldered into his coat. I’m impressed that he can sayglobal macroeconomic conditionsin his state. I may have underestimated him, what with all the weed consumption.

“We’ll be back by then. I just needed to lie down for a few minutes.” I made a show of unbuttoning my suit jacket. To my great disappointment, Lorcan didn’t notice. He was on alert, scanning the room.

All my hope of pinning him to a bed evaporated instantly.

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