burning up, burning bright, burning every inch of my skin. Every time I thought we’d doused it, there it was—an ember blazing to wildfire.
“That’s my story,” I finally managed. “Ten years’ worth of my own research is what I could bring you. That and the cases Codex has worked recently that I believe implicate Bernard and his possible movements.”
Sloane studied me, foot tapping—the only sign of her discomfort. I knew little about this beguiling goddess, but she had made it clear she was used to working alone. Preferred it. And yet as much as she kept claiming she could see through my thinly veiled vacation, I saw through her thinly veiled attempts at seeking my help the other night. She didn’t want to want help, which I found highly relatable.
“Show me the piece of missing information,” she said.
I let out a heavy exhale. Walked toward her laptop. “May I?”
“Have at it.”
I leaned forward, logged into my Codex email. Her scent, her body heat, invaded my senses. When I turned my face, hers was right there, mere inches away.
I saw her delicate throat work, her eyes on my lips. “I’ll let you read the email and the reports attached.”
Then I backed away slowly before I could give in to sweet temptation and kiss her. Instead, I busied my hands with pouring a cup of tea, water still steaming. Behind me, I heard her clicking, writing things down, muttering beneath her breath. A slew of curse words.
“You have FBI surveillance reports that triangulate Bernard’s position between this fucking hotel and 221B Baker Street?” Her words were part tense edge, part hungry excitement.
“Yes,” I said.
“Also in this radius are Mycroft’s Pub, Adler’s Bookshop and Kensley’s, where the Doyle papers will be auctioned off,” Sloane said. She scrubbed her hands down her face, re-examined her wall of notes. Looked at me, looked back at the email on her screen.
“Is that enough information for you?” I asked.
Her lips quirked. “You know it is. And I think you know what it’s like when everything about a case that made no fucking sense suddenly starts speaking to you in a language you understand.”
I softened my tone. “I do. It’s a lot to process.”
“You’re a lot to process, to be honest,” she said. Hushed, like she hadn’t meant it. She walked toward me until our legs almost touched. She was tall enough that I had to look up at her slightly.
“You’re Ahab,” she said, pointing at my chest.
“In what way?” I asked, careful to hide my astonishment. I’d been thinking of myself as Ahab since I’d arrived here.
Propping her hands on her hips, she said, “Bernard is your white whale. You came all the way here to London for a fake vacation because you want to take this asshole down all by yourself.”
I sensed how tenuous this partnership was, how tenuous her trust was. She was right—there was nothing I wouldn’t do to get him. “It is a real vacation,” I said slowly. “I hoped I might stumble upon Bernard while here. I’m not a vigilante.”
“No,” she conceded. “But don’t lie and tell me catching him by yourself isn’t a point of pride for you. That’s why you’ve kept this from your team.”
Sloane was a huntress in the wilderness, bow raised, arrow aimed straight at my heart. The woman cut through my bullshit easily and without remorse.
I weighed my options, considered going after the man myself after all. Leaving The Langham, staking out that auction, waiting for Bernard to show up and steal it. I could do it; it was available to me.
Except hadn’t that always been my father’s weakness? Off, on. He was there, until he wasn’t. And god help me I couldn’t stop wanting to be there for Sloane Argento.
“That is a fairly accurate portrayal of my motivations,” I said. “Well done.”
Her expression turned sympathetic. “I’m only pointing out the obvious. If we do this, Abe, we’re doing it together. Every step of the way. We just gave each other too much usable information not to. I need to know you’re okay with your personal man-hunt becoming a two-person show.” She looked like she wanted to say more but at the last second shook her head. “Are you? Okay with it?”
“I will become okay with it,” I said through clenched teeth. “I promise.”
She dropped her voice. “There’s no shame in the way you feel. I chose this vocation because I wanted to spend my life punishing people that deserve it. Landing this case was already a