PART 20:

Her spine registered it before the rest of her did. Her skin felt newly awake. His hand dropped. He was watching her face when he asked it, What are you curious about? Who she was. Mara held her ground. What it was like between you? She let a moment pass. What really happened to her? A pain smile crossed his face.

The kind that cost something to make. He looked down at her hand gripping the edge of the desk. Then he covered it with his own, slow, and drew it into his palm. Are you afraid to be close to me, Mara? The USB was in her pocket. She shook her head. No. Her voice was quiet. I feel safe. You should be more careful.

Something in her chest said. Saying true things to dangerous men. Nolan lifted her hand. His lips pressed against her knuckles, slow, deliberate. A gesture that made no claim and every claim at once. Then he leaned in. His mouth was close enough to her ear that she could feel the warmth of him when he spoke. I’m glad. His voice dropped to something she felt more than heard.

I need you to be. Her breath forgot what it was doing for a moment. She turned her face slightly, not toward him, just away from the wall she’d been using as an anchor. His presence was pressing into her awareness from the side, close and still and very intentional. The back garden. She kept her voice steady.

It’s beautiful this time of evening. Would you come sit with me? He pulled back just enough to look at her. Tilted his head. You know I can’t go outside. I know. She was still holding his hand. She looked at it. Then at him. She took one step closer, deliberate, eyes on his. Maybe it’s different when you’re holding mine.

Nolan went very still. He was studying her face for a long moment. Not suspicious now, not calculating, something she hadn’t seen in him before. I need to make a call first. His voice was even, but his hand hadn’t moved. Of course. Mara began to draw her hand back. He held it 1 second longer than he should have.

She felt the exact moment he let go. She picked up her pace only after she reached the doorway. Slow, controlled, the way she’d learned from watching him. She didn’t look back. She could feel exactly where his eyes were. Mara closed her door and stood against it for a moment with her eyes shut. Her cheeks were burning.

She reached behind her back, pulled out the notebook, and set it carefully in her bag. The USB went into her wallet. “I’m sorry.” She thought. And wasn’t sure who she was apologizing to. She looked at her hand. The one he’d pressed his lips against, her stomach pulled tight. She crossed to the mirror, fixed her hair, straightened the collar of her white silk blouse.

Then she walked back out. Nolan stood in the study with his eyes on the door after she left. Then his gaze moved to the laptop. He pulled out his phone. “Michael.” His voice came clipped the way it did when he was already past the question and into the answer. “Check the computer logs. I need to know if there was any activity in this room in the last 15 minutes.

Pull the camera feeds, too.” He ended the call and slid the phone into his pocket. He straightened Evelyn’s photo on the desk, one small adjustment, and turned to the window. The back garden was below. The grass still lit from the last of the evening. He was still looking at it when he reached for his jacket. The garden sat at the highest point of the property, a gentle slope opening to a view of the water in the distance.

The outdoor chairs caught the last warmth of the day. Mara walked out across the grass and stood looking at the sea. The evening air was cool, but she was still running so warm from what had happened in the study that she couldn’t feel it. She heard the terrace door open behind her.

When she turned, Nolan was standing in the frame, one hand on the doorjamb, not stepping through, just looking at her across the length of the garden. She extended her hand toward him, palm up. You could try coming to me. His smile came pained, real, with something underneath it that had cost something to form. I don’t put myself in that position in front of anyone, Mara.

She took three slow steps toward him. I’m not anyone. She kept her voice steady and her hand out. I’m not some person who happened to be here. And you’re not avoiding this because you’re afraid. She looked at him. You’re avoiding it because you refuse to need help. Her hand stayed extended. I want you to try. Please.

He looked at the threshold. One foot crossed it. His hand began to tremble at his side. Not much. Just the start of it. Mara saw it and didn’t look away from his face. She took one step closer. Just look at my eyes. Nothing else. He brought the other foot through. Mara smiled. She tilted her head toward the chairs in the garden.

Maybe we sit for a few minutes, talk, actually get to know each other. He shook his head. Not refusal. Something else. His eyes stayed on her. You’re dangerous, Mara Whitmore. She took three deliberate steps forward and stopped directly in front of him, one arm’s length. She held out her hand again. Sometimes.

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