She nodded, abruptly. Lucky she didn’t have the courage to sayHow about a quickie on the dining table, just to get it out of my system?
But maybe shecouldstrike up the courage to speak her mind. “Indeed it can, Jamie.”
He tipped his head, with a trace of a curious grin.
“We’re a terrible couple of people to be stuck together, you and I,” she said. “A woman who struggles to express her thoughts and a man who makes a determined effort to bury his.”
“I don’t bur—” His wet, clumped eyelashes flickered as he looked away. “I’d better get dressed.”
He shut himself into the bedroom. She sat on the couch, swiveled her legs onto it and leaned backward over the arm. No crack. Goddamn.
The door opened. “Oh hel-lo,” Jamie said, walking in, dressed as before. She lurched back up and stretched her neck side to side.
“You do that a lot,” he said. “Stiff back?”
“Awo.I just can’t seem to find the right stretch. The least of my problems.”
“But easily solved. You want me to crack it for you? I’m pretty good at that.”
Oh yes. And oh, no.
“Come here,” he said, holding out his hand.
She stared at the hand. Saying no would be more awkward than saying yes, right? And the idea of getting that crack... She let him pull her up, and he wrapped his arms around her. Unsure what to do with her hands, she rested them on his arms. He pulled tight across her back. No crack.
“Samira, you’ve got to relax. You’re as stiff as a corpse. Breathe in with me.”
He filled his chest. She copied, her own breath shaky, her breasts pushing against him, creating the polar opposite of a relaxing effect.
“Now, exhale,” he whispered.
Halfway through her exhalation, he pulled tight. A series of cracks ran up her back like corn popping.
“Oh my God,” she said.
“Wow,” he said, releasing her but not moving back. “That’s been building awhile.”
She slid her hands off his arms. “Thank you.”
“Med school has to be good for something, right?”
She felt taller, lighter, at risk of floating away on the euphoria of relief...and something else. His Adam’s apple moved, drawing her eye to his throat. His eyes darkened, he touched her elbow and his warm breath brushed her forehead.
No. Enough of this torture. She turned, abruptly. “I’d better...check on the computer.”
“Aye,” he said, with a start. “I’d better... The fire needs wood. And the trout...”
As he took over in the kitchen, she idly looked through Hyland’s files, her chest slumping. She’d been so sure when she’d got onto the site at Edinburgh that she’d find the dirt Tess needed, and the world would magically return to its normal axis. What if the vault contained nothing either? But Charlotte’s message... Perhaps Charlotte had tried to hack in but couldn’t. But with the security alert she couldn’t have got into Hyland’s account at all from London—or Paris. So how did she even know the vault was there? From this Erebus person?
“Dinner’s ready,” Jamie said quietly, as if hesitant to interrupt her thoughts. “It’s pretty simple.”
She moved the electronic equipment to the sofa, put Jamie’s cell phone on charge and returned to the dining chair, sipping wine as he set the table and sat across from her. His lanky frame made the chair look like a child’s. She needed something else to focus on, something that wasn’t the files or her attraction to Jamie.
She took a breath. “Tell me about your family, Jamie. What happened?”
His lips parted. Panic flashed through his eyes and vanished.
“And don’t brush it off with a joke,” she added.
