was no doubt a warning, but—”
“It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have run. Drawn attention to myself. I panicked.”
“Panicked? What were you supposed to do? Stand there and let them capture you? The fault lies with me…I shouldn’t have allowed this…” Again he tensed, tried to swallow, tried to breathe, and she wasn’t sure what happened next, if she stepped toward him, or he toward her. But a moment later, she was in his arms, and he held her, his face pressed into her hair, until his breathing evened. She tried to pull away, but he said, “Don’t. Not yet.”
And so she waited, let him hold her, hearing nothing but his heart beating against her, slowing, finally relaxing. After several minutes, she whispered into his chest, “I’m sorry.” When she looked up at him, he was staring off into the distance. She stepped back, and he reached out, let her hair drift over his fingers as though he was reluctant to let her leave. But he didn’t move to stop her this time, and so she left him there, returned inside as the night deepened into purple velvet. As she shut the terrace doors, she saw him silhouetted against the rising moon, rust red, as if it had been spattered in blood. And then he sank onto the garden bench, buried his face in his hands, consumed by his grief.
She turned away, saw Marc and Giustino looking distinctly uncomfortable. Marc was back to watching TV. Giustino was busy monitoring the equipment. She told them how Tex’s body had been desecrated, his face removed, just like Alessandra’s. Both men looked sick.
“Any more traffic?” she asked after a while, hoping for some sort of a distraction.
“None,” Marc said. He nodded toward Griffin, then asked Giustino, “Do you think the director told him about Tunisia?”
“He’ll want to go.”
“Can’t be helped.”
“In his state of—”
The veranda door suddenly opened, and the three of them turned to see Griffin standing there, eyeing them. “My state of what?”
“The traffic from Tex’s device. Bioweapons in Tunisia. Adami’s lab. They have Dr. Balraj.”
Griffin didn’t move for a full second, as though the very mention of Tex’s name pained him, then, “You have the details?”
“Yes, sir. I reported them to the director.”
“Let me know the moment the orders are back to us. I want to get an early start.”
“Sir—”
“You heard me.” He didn’t even look at them, just walked off toward his own room.
No one opposed him, and Sydney waited a beat, then followed him down the hall. “Do you really think you should be running off to some other country in this state of mind?”
“Speaking from experience?”
“What about what you told me on the plane? The whole emotional involvement thing?”
“I’ll be checking all emotions at the door.”
“Did it ever occur to you that that might be worse?”
“I need to do this. It’s clear I can’t place my trust in others.”
“Are you even listening to yourself?”
He stopped so suddenly, turned to face her, that she nearly ran into him. They stood there like that, in the darkened hallway, so close she could hear him breathing. He didn’t move, just looked at her, apparently waiting for her to protest, step back, make some sort of move. When she didn’t, he said, “What the hell is it you want from me?”
The force of his question stunned her, even more so when he closed what little distance remained between them, taking her chin in his hand, holding it, forcing her to look at him. “What do you want from me?” he whispered.
“I—” She couldn’t answer, could barely swallow as she looked up at him, saw the darkness in his eyes.
And then he said four words that started her heart pounding. “Don’t leave me tonight.”
The next morning, Sydney opened her eyes to the sound of bells pealing from the towers and cupolas of hundreds of Roman churches. A soft morning light filtered through the sheer curtains on the window. She stretched out, feeling relaxed for the first time in days. And frustrated, too. Griffin had asked her not to leave him. She didn’t. They slept together. Platonically.
Her senses had been on overload. She was attracted to him, but he apparently had no intention of taking it further, and she wasn’t about to push the matter. He’d just lost his friend, after all. But hell if she hadn’t realized how very much she’d missed sleeping with a man until last night. And how very much she missed having sex.
She sighed, got up, walked to the window,