Page 23 of Undercover Infidel
She crossed her arms, her expression guarded. “It was nothing.”
“It wasn’t nothing. You left rather abruptly.” I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated at how poorly this conversation was going. “Look, I only accessed your file for practical reasons. I wanted to ensure you had proper clothing that fit well. Nothing more.”
Something shifted in her eyes, a flicker of understanding perhaps. “You could have asked.”
“I could have, yes. I should have.” I took a breath. “The truth is I find myself…” The words caught in my throat. This was territory I vowed I’d never explore again. “I find myself drawn to you in ways I hadn’t anticipated. And after Fallon, I’m not—” I stopped, unable to finish the thought.
Her features softened. “We both have our reservations.”
“Indeed.” I let the silence stretch between us, unwilling to break it with platitudes or demands. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
She seemed to accept my explanation, her hand reaching for her door. “Good night, Con.”
“Good night, Lex.”
She disappeared into her room without another word, leaving me standing in the corridor, with my thoughts. I entered the earl’s suite and closed the door behind me, leaning against it with a sigh, wondering why I was staying in what was essentially a guest room rather than in my own bed. “Because you want to be near her, you daft idiot,” I admitted to myself.
Sleep eluded me again.I tossed restlessly, replaying our interaction. Did accessing her file truly bother her that much? Perhaps it was the implied invasion of privacy, though in our line of work, privacy was often an illusion. Then again, her MI6 dossier would contain personal details far beyond what was necessary to order clothing.
Had my admission of attraction further raised her ire? Bloody hell, what had I been thinking? Our focus needed to remain on Labyrinth. The stakes were too high for personal entanglements.
By zero six hundred, I gave up on sleep entirely and headed to my private gym. Physical exertion had always been my remedy for mental restlessness. After a punishing workout, I showered and dressed, determined to reclaim our professional rapport.
When I returned to the main level, I found Lex already in the dining room, studying her tablet while sipping tea.
“Good morning,” I said, pouring myself coffee. “Sleep well?”
She looked up, her expression giving nothing away. “Well enough. You?”
“The usual.” I took the seat across from her. “With the hope you may have changed your mind about leaving, I thought we might establish a more permanent workspace for you here at Blackmoor. The operations hub has a secondary station that’s rarely used.”
She looked up with interest and set down her cup. “It’s kind of you to offer, and it would be helpful. I’d like to begin tracking down the rumors about Orlov.”
“Of course.” I spread marmalade on toast, keeping my tone deliberately casual. “Once we’ve finished breakfast, we’ll get you settled.”
We ate in silence before heading to the operations hub, where multiple monitors hummed as if to say they held answers to yet-unasked questions. Yesterday was an anomaly. Typically, if I was at Blackmoor, I came down here at least once a day. More accurately, I spent hours on end in what I considered my domain and no one else’s. Yet here I was, setting Lex up in her own space. Why? Because if she could access everything she needed here, she wouldn’t have to return to London to work. In other words, she wouldn’t have to leave.
“This will be your work area,” I said, gesturing to a sleek setup near mine. “MI6 and Unit 23 databases are available through secure channels.”
She settled into the chair, immediately typing in access codes. “Impressive. Better than my setup at Vauxhall Cross.”
I smiled despite myself. “Don’t let Viper get wind of that.”
For the next hour, we synchronized our systems to facilitate information sharing while maintaining the necessary firewalls.
“You’ve upgraded your firewalls since I arrived,” she noted, eyes on her screen. “New encryption algorithm?”
“Developed it myself after your late-night demonstration.” I couldn’t help the smirk that crossed my face. “Care to test it?”
Her lips curved upward. “Perhaps later.”
I pulled up a secure window and began typing. “While we have a moment, I wanted to show you what I’ve found regarding the message you received yesterday.”
Her expression sobered immediately. “Any luck tracing it?”
“That’s the problem.” I displayed a complex network diagram on the main screen. “I’ve hit a wall. The message appears to have originated from within Blackmoor itself.”
“How odd,” she said, leaning closer.
