“There was no British diplomat on Gibraltar named Thornton. She is lying about who she is.”
Neilsen gaped.
“Now, why would a woman lie?” Xavier asked.
“Dear Lord, I cannot believe she is a spy. But it would certainly explain her daring and intellect,” Neilsen said. Then his brows furrowed. “But why will you take her with you?”
“I hate the idea of leaving any civilized woman in Barbary, and maybe—just maybe—I am wrong,” Xavier said.
Alex paced outside of Blackwell’s chamber, angry that she was being excluded from their plans—angry and hurt.
He did not appear to be even close to falling in love with her; if anything, he was more hostile toward her than ever before. What was happening?
Alex shuddered. But at least he had said that he would take her with him when they escaped. She hoped he meant it.
And in case he did not, she would have to somehow unearth the plans they were making now, and be prepared to join them in their escape. Alex was not going to be left behind. The very idea made her blood run cold. But the idea of spying on him also chilled her to the bone. If he ever caught her in such a game, he would never come to trust her.
She turned and met Murad’s intense, probing regard. She averted her eyes. He knew she was upset. She did not feel like discussing her dismal relationship with Blackwell now. Not when he was just a few feet away.
Blackwell and Neilsen stepped outside. Alex turned and stared. Had they decided on a firm course of action? She could not tell, for Blackwell Ignored her, bidding Neilsen good-bye, while the Danish consul averted his eyes from her. Alex strained to hear. Neilsen said something about getting word back to Blackwell as soon as possible.
Neilsen finally glanced at her, nodding briefly, and then he left.
Alex met Blackwell’s intense, dark eyes. What should she do? The thought crossed her mind that she should seduce him. In spite of what he thought about her, Alex was certain he remained as physically attracted to her as she was to him.
He strode over to her. “Still present?”
“Yes.” Deciding to take the upper hand, Alex glanced at his broad bare chest. Did she have the courage to touch him?
His jaw flexed. He shifted his weight. “Where does Jebal think you are at this moment?”
Alex shrugged. Did she have the courage to kiss him? She felt faint at the prospect. And if he actually rejected her again, she would be devastated. “He is dining with Paulina again tonight. His fifteen-year-old Italian concubine.”
“Jealous?” Blackwell asked softly.
“Are you kidding?” Alex laughed. “I am thrilled!”
He stared. Their gazes locked and her laughter died.
She stared back. Wishing he could read her mind, feel her heart, know her soul.
He did not look away. “Has he hurt you?” he asked suddenly.
Alex had not expected such a question. “No,” she said, on a deep breath. “Basically he is kind.” She hesitated. “He has allowed me an entire year to grieve for my first husband.” She lowered her eyes. “But …”
“But?”
She looked up, into impenetrable depths. “My time is finally running out.”
A muscle moved in his cheek. “And that means?”
“Jebal does not want to wait much longer to consummate our marriage.”
A moment passed, in silence. Blackwell said. “You are resourceful. I imagine you will do what needs to be done.”
Alex felt like striking him.
His gaze was piercing. “Surely you do not intend to remain faithful to a ghost?”
