“Have you told the Office yet?”
“Seeming as we have just pieced everything together. No, but we will do so directly.”
Emerson quickly dispatched a missive to Jon Scripter himself, and then as if it weren’t enough to await a response of receipt, Jaxsen excused herself to make a personal appearance to Jon.
Emerson bit back a grin as he wondered how she would gain an audience at this time of night.
Poor man would probably find her knocking on his bedroom door, but given it was a matter of national security, he was certain all would be forgiven.
Jaxsen was a lot of things, but conventional wasn’t one of them.
Jacques stayed with him a while, accepting his offer of brandy as he tugged at his neck cloth. “She nearly slit my throat.”
Emerson chuckled. “It’s part of her charm.”
“If you want to call it that,” Jacques replied with a disbelieving laugh. “I’ll take my leave shortly, but please convey my regards to Jaxsen. It was a true honor to meet her. She’s why I started to work for the War Office.”
“She does leave an impression.” Emerson smiled.
“She does. See that you take care of her well,” Jacques remarked, arching a brow as he set down his snifter of brandy on the side table.
Emerson narrowed his gaze slightly.
“It’s quite obvious if you know what you’re looking for. And being what I am, I tend to notice the details.” He winked. “She’s one in a million, if half of the rumors are true.”
“All of them are,” Emerson agreed. “Only she’s more amazing than the million rumors. They don’t do her justice.”
“Well then, see thatyoudo.”
With a silence nod of understanding, Emerson watched as Jacques took his leave.
It was only an hour later that Jaxsen returned.
And this time, Emerson was pleased to see she was alone.
As she walked into his study, he rose to meet her, and without a hesitation, pulled her into his arms.
She melted into his embrace as if craving his strength.
The woman who was utterly self-sufficient and needed nothing.
“Is Jacques gone?”
“Yes, he left a while ago.”
“His story checks out. And Jon is deploying officers to arrest Daverson, Wessix and Volland. I gave them the address in the textile district. They will all be in custody by morning.”
“Morning,” Emerson whispered against her hair, inhaling her sweet scent of rain, fresh air, and rosewater. “Which means we can finally rest till then.”
“What about the bath?” She leaned back and met his gaze.
Fire flickered but was quickly covered by fatigue.
“As much as I want to carry you upstairs and ravish you on my bed, I think there needs to be a different priority…” He kissed her lips softly once — twice. “…because you need to understand something.”
“Oh?” she asked, her eyes fluttering closed as she relaxed against him.
“You come first.”
