His brows drew together. As his mouth opened—doubtless to ask me, disastrously, what I was talking about—I reached him. The only way I could think of to stop him from saying anything was to kiss him.
He jolted back in surprise. I chased his mouth, desperate for him not to give us both away, and then he opened up beneath my lips, his mouth warm and welcoming, and his tongue flicked against mine. He began kissing me back in earnest. I’d never believed anyone’s knees became weak in real life, but I swiftly found out that it wasn’t hyperbole. At least, it wasn’t hyperbole when Alex Teague was kissing you.
His hands were on my arse, pulling me tight against him. I reluctantly tore my mouth from his and nuzzled into his neck, where I could mutter into his ear. “We’re being watched.”
He stiffened for an instant, recovering so swiftly that I wondered if he was a professional spy. He dropped a light kiss against my lips. “Are you still going to show me Jane Austen’s haunts in Bath?”
“Of course,” I agreed, over-heartily. I made aterriblespy.
Once out in the Circus, I glanced over my shoulder at the windows and caught a movement on the second floor. Too fast to see any detail, though I had the impression of a male figure. As I turned away again, I saw the personalised numberplate on the Ferrari. It was Steven’s car. Charlie’s younger brother, who hadn’t been among the family members Taylor had listed as being out of the house. I was furious with myself for not realising that at the time, but I’d tried my best to forget Steven’s disagreeable existence. Presumably, it was he who’d been watching Alex.
“So where does the literary trail begin?” Alex asked. It was a relief to hear he was speaking too loudly. I wasn’t the only one overcompensating for a possible audience.
“The Jane Austen Centre is down Gay Street.” I was still somehow at broadcast volume.
We walked in silence out of the Circus, and as my panic cleared, I wondered why I’d prevented him from betraying himself. It had been instinct. I suppose I’d felt on some level that we were collaborators in deceiving the Fortescues. I hoped I wouldn’t come to regret rescuing him.
Safely out of sight of the Fortescues’ house, we both glanced behind us to check no one was following and came to a halt. He leaned against the black railings outside one of the identical Georgian townhouses lining the street.
“I owe you one,” he said, before his expression began to change. Suspicion slowly filled his face as he studied me closely. “I watched them all leave. If you intended to prevent me from entering that room again, nicely done.”
“There was someone at the window when we left the house. Didn’t you see them?”
“No.” That generous mouth was tight-lipped, his eyes almost hostile.
“Why the hell would I want to stop youfromgetting in there at the cost of missing the opportunity myself?” I asked.
“Whyisa member of the Mortimer family poking around in the Fortescues’ private business?”
“Why’s a Cornish dragon poking around in his host’s email?” I countered.
His eyes were fierce on my face as if trying to wrest my intentions from me. I held his gaze. I had no intention of telling him about Mortimer family business, but we’d reached an impasse.
“Do youmind?Those are freshly painted.” The imperious voice came from behind us.
I turned to see the front door of the house open and an elderly lady glowering at where Alex was leaning against the railings, the buckles on his leather jacket threatening her precious paintwork. Flapping her hands, she shooed us away like wasps from a jam jar.
Biting back a grin, Alex stood up straight, and we carried on down the hill. I was thinking furiously. Bim would flay me alive if he knew I’d told someone else our family’s business. But it was ridiculous and potentially dangerous that we were both sneaking around at the Fortescues without knowing what the other was doing. If we combined forces, perhaps we could cover for one another.
I made my decision. “Let’s go to Queen Square,” I told him. “It has enough Austen associations if anyone asks where we went, and we can sit in the gardens and talk privately.”
ALEX
We crunched up the path towards the tall obelisk that dominated the gardens and took a seat on one of the benches. It was too cold and damp for anyone else to hang around for long out there. On the way, I’d decided to tell Nate what I was doing. There’d be no reason for him to trust me with his business if I didn’t spill, and I was nosy as hell about what he was up to.
“I don’t know why the Fortescues invited us here,” I said. “I was hoping to find out.”
He turned on the bench to face me fully. “You’re risking the wrath of James Fortescue because you’re curious?” His voice was incredulous.
I’d been warned many times that curiosity could kill a dragon as easily as a cat, but it had never taken. “We haven’t had any contact with the Fortescues for centuries. Why would they suddenly reach out to a bunch of dragons from the Cornish countryside and invite us here?”
“For them to move so far outside their usual milieu is definitely noteworthy,” Nate mused. “They usually avoid associating with anyone from a different socio-economic background.”
My nostrils flared. It was one thing for me to think about the differences between us and another for him to lay them out so bluntly.
“They interact mostly with the Swifts and the Carews, although a few other families are allowed on sufferance.” His eyes narrowed on my face. “What does your family have that they want?”
“That’s precisely what I was trying to find out.”
