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Two days later an urgent knock on my door had me rushing over, only to see Lucas behind it. He wore casual clothes, but he looked worse for the wear, a grim twist to his full mouth.

"Lucas? Everything okay?"

"Can I come in?"

"Of course," I held open the door and let him inside. "Coffee?" It was still morning and I was in sweats and a tank.

"Please."

I poured him a quick mug and handed it to him. "Have a seat," I said and sank into my old recliner.

"It's Marissa. I have a feeling she's being closed in on. I need to move her as soon as possible, and I still haven't found a location."

I blinked at him. "I was born and raised in this town. I don't know where she could be moved where someone won't find her. I honestly think you've been pretty lucky she hasn't been found already."

His expression grew even grimmer. "That's the problem. I think she has. And I think the people who found her are merely biding their time."

"Shit," I muttered.

"Definitely."

"Were you followed?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No. I took precautions."

"What about using a trust to buy a plot of land?"

"I did that with the last place and I think it was uncovered. Someone is tracking my movements." He shifted in his seat. "What about you?"

My brow furrowed. "What about me?"

"If I gave you the money would you be able to purchase a property through trust?"

Okay. How had this escalated so quickly? "I'm already linked to you. I'm surprised they're not tracing me too." I wasn't quite sure if that was true, but it seemed like the most logical scenario. I thought about it some more while we sat there in silence. "The Comey's. You should ask them."

He let out a bark of laughter. "Morgana told me if she ever saw me in her shop again she'd incinerate me with lightning."

She probably would. I blew out a slow breath. "Okay. Then I'll ask them."

His expression grew thoughtful. "It could work."

"Of course it could. I thought of it."

"So humble."

I grinned at him and his eyes went molten. The smile slid off my face but we didn't break eye contact. "When this is all over, Grace Banner, you and I are going to be sweaty."

I swallowed hard. "I don't like to run," I whispered.

His eyes widened and a bark of laughter escaped him. "That wasn't what I had in mind, but chasing you seems like it would be good to get the heart pumping and the blood flowing." His gaze flickered to my neck.

"You are a naughty man, Mr. Marsh. I'm not quite sure we're there yet."

He leaned forward. "I am a very patient man."

I practically had to shove him out of my door in order to keep from jumping his bones. Things with us were heating up. And not in a race to the altar. More like a race to the first flat semi-comfortable surface.