Page 53 of Undercover Infidel
“What do you think?” I asked, eager to hear her assessment.
“I think,” she said slowly, moving closer, “that it’s exactly what I would have expected from the Earl of Blackmoor—sophisticated, private, technologically superior, positioned literally above the rest of society.”
I inclined my head, unsure if her evaluation was complimentary or critical.
“But,” she continued, her hand finding mine, “I also think it’s been waiting for someone to make it more than just a perfect space. To make it a home.”
I pulled her closer. “And do you have any suggestions about who might be qualified for such a task?”
“I might,” she replied, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Though I’ll need to conduct a more thorough inspection first. Starting with that master suite you showed me earlier.”
Her fingers threaded through mine as she led me back down the hallway. The setting sun cast an amber glow, bathing her skin in warm light as we entered the bedroom. When she turned to face me, I cradled her cheeks in my hands, brushing my thumbs across her cheekbones. “I thought I’d lost you,” I whispered.
“You almost did.” There was no accusation in her tone, only honesty.
“I won’t make that mistake again.”
Her hand covered mine. “Good.”
The kiss began slowly, deliberately—a different sort of apology than words could express. Her body melted against mine, the tension of our separation transforming into something electric. We moved toward the bed without breaking contact, each step a slow dance of reconciliation.
“I missed you,” I whispered against her neck, though we’d been apart less than a day. The words meant so much more, and she knew it.
“Show me,” she replied, and I did.
Where our previous lovemaking had been driven by urgency, this was something else—a slow, intimate exploration. When she guided me inside her, our gazes locked, the physical connection mirroring something deeper—a trust rebuilt, a partnership reforged.
We moved together in perfect rhythm, the London lights creating a backdrop of stars through the uncovered windows. As we lay entwined in the aftermath, her head on my chest, I knew with absolute certainty that this—she—was what I had been missing all along.
The digital security panel beside the bed quietly chimed to indicate that the perimeter security had automatically engaged for the night. With Lex warm andsafe in my arms, I drifted into a dreamless sleep that I only experienced when with her.
I woketo the first light of dawn, Lex still asleep beside me. I watched her breathe, struck by how close I’d come to losing this before it had truly begun.
If she hadn’t forgiven me, my behavior would have been the worst mistake of my life. Not being with her was unfathomable. It didn’t matter that we’d known each other for only a short time; those few hours when she was gone had left me feeling like I was missing a vital piece of myself.
My secure mobile vibrated softly on the nightstand. I reached for it, not wanting to disturb her rest. The encrypted message was from Kestrel—direct and urgent.
Orlov relocated to facility near Inverness. Not Dunwich Bay, as suggested. Equipment transported via private cargo plane last night.
I frowned, reading the message twice. The certainty with which both Mr. Bennett and Dr. McLaren had identified Dunwich Bay now seemed curious. Either their intelligence was flawed, or something else was at play. My instinct leaned toward the latter.
Lex stirred beside me, her eyes opening slowly. For a moment, her expression was unguarded—soft, content—before awareness returned, and she smiled.
“You’re staring,” she said, her voice husky with sleep.
“I am.” I brushed a strand of hair from her face. “It’s a view I could get used to.”
She stretched, then noticed the mobile in my hand. “Work already?”
“I’m afraid so.” I showed her Kestrel’s message. “What do you make of this?”
She sat up, instantly alert as she read the text. “Inverness, not Dunwich Bay.” Her brow furrowed. “That’s interesting, given how certain Bennett and Dr. McLaren seemed.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“However, it was only one possible location,” she said, her mind clearly working through the implications. “The infrastructure requirements Evelyn described could apply to several facilities along the English coast. I don’t think it merits concern that they focused on one possibility.”
I agreed, though something about it still nagged at me. “How do you want to handle the next steps?”
