He did not want to look at her. He was afraid to see her expression; mostly, he was afraid to look into her eyes—afraid of what he might discover there.
Too late, he regretted what they had done. Too late, he knew he would never forget what it was like making love to her.
He did not need this distraction now.
“Xavier?”
He turned. She had put on her pants and, topless, was now tying together the strips of linen over her breasts. He could not help staring at her. Her beauty left him stricken.
Their gazes met. She looked away first. “We have to talk,” she said very softly.
He tore his gaze away from her breasts, her hair, her mouth, finally meeting her eyes. They were filled with uncertainty. Vera’s eyes.
He did not want to discuss what she wanted to discuss. He was careful to be polite. “I hope I did not hurt you?”
Her smile faltered. “It was wonderful.”
He quickly moved to the door, to peer out of the cane slats. His back was to her now.
Silence fell between them, across the cell. A loud, heavy silence. Xavier edged the cane matting farther aside, continuing to peer out into the courtyard. He heard her standing and he glanced involuntarily over his shoulder. She was fully dressed except for the kaffiyeh.
“Do not forget the headdress,” he said stiffly—awkwardly.
“Now what happens?”
He understood that she was referring to them. He said, “Obviously there will not be any escape.”
Her brows knitted over unhappy eyes. “Xavier, you know I am talking about us.”
“There is no us.”
She stared, dismayed.
“What happened was a mistake.” He felt as if he were wielding a knife, but had no choice. “I blame only myself. There will not be another time.”
“I see,” she choked.
How could he be hurting her? He had to look at her even though he did not want to. She wasn’t crying, but she was close to tears. “I do not understand you. Not at all.”
“I am not a spy. I am merely a woman—a smart, determined woman, the kind of woman you have never known before.”
That was certainly true. “If you are not a spy, then explain all of your lies to me, and how you knew so much about our navy.”
She hesitated. “I cannot.”
“I did not think so.” He was amazed at the extent of his own disappointment.
Her shoulders sagged. “Edward Preble is replacing Commodore Morris.” Then her eyes flashed. “That is common knowledge; everyone at the palace knows!”
Xavier stood straighter. “But you knew the last time we met, did you not?”
Her mouth set mulishly, down-turned. She did not answer.
He took a breath, fighting how he felt—which was strangely heartbroken.
“I guess I had better go,” she said.
“I think so.” He folded his arms and stepped aside as she moved forward.
