Page 110 of The Bachelor Spy
Ah, she’d been scheming while he kissed her. Clever woman.
“And it’s possible Pennington could be long gone by morning.” Her smile spread as she looked up at him with those large cobalt eyes of hers. “After all, you see best in the dark.”
They’d barely stepped out of the study when Evie turned toward Blake and grabbed his hand, drawing him into a shadowed alcove near one of the back doors. Away from everyone.
Away from curious listeners or possible traitors.
The moonlight from the nearby window bathed her face in pale light. His breath paused in appreciation. She was wonderfully clever. And almost painfully beautiful.
Of course, Blake didn’t mind either of those things, but now that they’d become dearer over the past few days—now that he’d actually allowed himself tofeelwhat he’d been denying for months—it just hurt worse to think of what they were getting ready to do.
What they might not survive.
“This would be the perfect opportunity for Smith and Rivers to make their escape, during the commotion,” she whispered, already loosening the ribbon of her maid’s apron.
There would be no use for it after this. Tonight, it all ended.
“If I’d known …” She looked up at him, regret shadowing those violet-blue eyes. “I should have taken those papers from her room this afternoon. I thought we had time. But if she escapes with that intelligence—”
“You got photographs at least. Better than nothing.” Blake’s hand came up to still hers, his fingers closing over the ribbon. “Though you’re right—she’ll either run tonight or strike, and my bet is she’ll dash off to protect what she’s found.”
Evie didn’t pull away from his touch. Instead, she let him take the ribbon from her fingers and carefully untie the apron himself—a strangely intimate gesture that closed off his throat and warmed him from fingertips to hairline. When had removing a housemaid’s apron become more enticing than any of the dozens of times he’d helped a woman out of far more elegant attire during a mission?
Because this wasn’t a mission anymore. Not entirely.
This was Evie. His partner. His … heart, if he was being honest with himself.
And despite his eclectic life and mysterious adventures, he’d never felt anything remotely close to this.
“We must get to Rivers before she acts,” Evie said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Those photographs I took will only prove what she’s done, but they won’t stop her from passing intelligence tonight.” Evie’s jaw tightened. “She has more, Stephen. I’ve been hovering near her room since we met her earlier, and I heard it—not an hour ago.”
“Heard what?” Blake folded the apron carefully, a habit born of months of maintaining cover.
“A wireless receiver.” Evie’s throat worked as she swallowed. “It must be a crystal set—small enough to hide in her trunk. I heard the clicking through the door. Morse code.” She closed her eyes briefly, the memory tightening her features. “She was sending and receiving. Arranging a meeting, certainly, to hand off what she’d learned. And it must have come from somewhere close—the wireless she’s using can’t receive transmissions beyond ten miles.”
The informant Smith planned to meet at the ruins, perhaps? Someone in Astlynn Commons? Even Dr. Ross’ hospital might be close enough.
Blake’s hands fisted. This information would only expose their troops more. Destroy more lives.
Evie held his gaze. “If she gets that information to her contact before we stop her, hundreds of soldiers could die. Likely more.”
“Entire operations could be compromised,” he said quietly. His hand found hers again, threading their fingers together. He shouldn’t—they needed to focus, to move—but the thought of losing her tonight, of one of them not making it back … All he wanted was to suspend time. “Any confirmation where the meeting might be?”
But he already guessed, even as she said, “I only deciphered one word.Ruin.”
Blake’s grip tightened on her hand. The old chapel ruins. Of course. Remote, abandoned, with an unused back road that could provide an escape route if needed.
A sudden swell of voices came from down the hall. Evie grabbed Blake’s jacket and pulled him toward her, deeper into the shadows of the alcove. Her body pressed flush against his, and he instinctively dropped his palms to her waist.
Oh, she smelled as good as she looked.
Confound it all. He’d never found spy work so upsetting to his carefully laid plans before.
Of course, he’d never spent a great deal of time thinking of futures and happily-ever-afters before either. There was a reason Grace enjoyed those silly books so much.
Two people in love certainly ought to have a happy ending, now that he thought about it.
An excellent notion.
