She nodded, her movements jerky. “Thank you. We’ll figure out what it’s for, then we’ll end this for good.”
“I’ll return for you.” His chest throbbed with the intensity of his words, with how much he meant them. Not once in his life had he felt this strongly about another person. It was a touch much, a bit scary, if he were being honest.
George sighed, softening against his chest once again. “Promise?”
“I promise. Are you ready to bring this to your friends?”
She tensed up again before agreeing, “We should. Tomorrow, we’ll plan to retrieve the note.”
“And we’ll tell them I have to follow Peros?”
“No.”
“No?”
Squirming, George turned sideways across his lap, her dry curls scrubbing against his damp chest as she stuck her feet over the side of the tub. “We’ll focus on the note first. I don’t want to overwhelm everyone. We have to be certain you need to follow Peros, that this isn’t a ruse, before telling them everything.”
He dropped his head to the side, meeting her lowered gaze. “That seems unlike you.”
Face scrunched, she admitted, “I don’t want to tell them yet because it feels too real. Let’s make sure youhaveto go, and when we’re positive, we’ll tell them.”
“He’s leaving in a week,” he said softly, well aware of how hard this was for her to handle. It wasn’t easy for him either.
“And they can turn around a plan in a single night, if needed. We wait until we’re sure.”
“Of course.” There was no harm in waiting, and George was right, the more they talked aloud of him leaving, the more his gut tightened up. They’d face it when they had to and no sooner. Leaning in, he kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose, and finally her soft mouth.
“Come on, let’s get dressed. I’d like to tell you about my mother.” George’s voice was soft, sad, fragile. Isahn hated the way her words made him feel, like she carried a weight attached by a chain and he wouldn’t be able to lift the load, even if he tried.
They climbed out of the tub, and she returned to her room to pick out a dress, her soft bottom and shapely thighs swaying asshe sashayed through the sitting room. Isahn swallowed thickly, then chastised himself for his wayward thoughts.
Not the right time, fool.
“Isahn?” Her voice rang out.
“Yes?”
“Finish shaving your face.”
He did, then tugged on a pair of loose linen trousers and a tunic, one with real sleeves that didn’t needfibulaelike the others in his wardrobe. The airy outfit was comfortable, and Isahn hoped he’d be able to bring some of his new clothing back to Selwas to spread the fashion. It would be nice, he supposed, to check in on his estate. But he’d promised Georgie he’d return, and he had to—for the mission. For her.
But he also had an earldom and people to tend to.
The path his thoughts took was winding, hard to follow, and too overgrown to traverse at the moment. Balancing his duty and desire didn’t bear considering... yet, anyway. There were greater things at stake.
nineteen
Isahn uncovers something bigger.
IsahnloungedwithGeorgeon her sitting room sofa, a small spread before them. After the revelations from Peros and Gasparo, they’d abandoned their plan of having a romantic multi-coursecenain the dining room. Instead, she wanted to lean against him while they ate in comfort.
Eanraig magicked in a dinner for two, consisting of dolmades—those stuffed grape leaves Isahn greatly enjoyed—with a side of tangy white tzatziki sauce.There was roasted lamb and vegetables, a delicious rice and spinach dish that tasted of lemons, a platter of baklava,and a bottle of red wine.
Isahn desperately wanted to hear about George’s mother. But over the past hour they’d been stuffing their faces in near silence, and she hadn’t revisited the subject. It wasn’t his place to bring it up.
“Want more baklava?” Isahn asked, snagging a third triangle of the addicting pastry.
“No, I can’t handle another bite.” She splayed a palm across her stomach.
