I chuckled mirthlessly. “Something like that. Just don’t let them see your face. They’ve already published photos of us together.”
Irina let out a shocked gust of breath. “They have? Henry, that’s not ideal.”
“I know. But it might help our little charade. We can talk about it tomorrow.”
We reached theGirl on Fire, and I hustled Irina up the gang plank. Captain Gillies ushered her straight to the stairs. I turned, peering into the night. The commotion at the gate had stopped—Lucian had managed to send them on their way. He was striding stiffly down the jetty.
“They’ve been lurking up the top of the street all day,” Captain Gillies murmured by my side. “It’s almost like someone tipped them off that you’d be bringing her back here today.”
I frowned. “Given they seem to hang around here more days than they don’t, it’s probably just a coincidence.” But it niggled in the back of my mind as I descended into the living room.
A plaintive yowl erupted from my bedroom. A sound that only a certain large, bedraggled ginger cat could make. I headed in that direction, finding Irina on my bed, Abernathy accosting her on his hind legs in her lap, nuzzling his fluffy face under her chin.
“I think he missed me,” she said wryly, scratching him on the head.
“You’re his catnip.” I smirked sleepily. The nickname suited her. She had a presence about her that was a natural attractant to others.
“Is there a guest room somewhere?” she asked, covering her mouth as she yawned. “I’m so tired I don’t even know if I can be bothered to shower before I crash.”
Some stupid, inappropriate part of me wanted to tell her she could sleep in here with me. I pushed that thought down, gesturing for her to follow me as I headed for the stairs
“Lucian’s room is on the right,” I explained as we reached the lower level. “You can take this one.” I opened the door on the guest bedroom to the left. It was smaller than my suite, but still boasted a king-sized bed and a small ensuite shower room.
“Are you sure Lucian won’t try to roll me out of bed and toss me overboard during the night?” she asked, stepping into the space. One slender hand smoothed over the bedspread. “I don’t think he likes me.”
“You’d be right.”
I turned, glaring at my cousin as he appeared in the doorway, Irina’s overnight bag in his hands. He blew out a long breath. “But I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt … for tonight at least.”
He tossed the bag at the foot of the bed and left without another word. Irina rolled her eyes, making a rude gesture at his retreating back. I stifled an exhausted laugh, my eyes meeting Irina’s for a second. The twinkle in hers set off a flutter just below my diaphragm.
“We’ll talk about next steps in the morning,” I said, lingering at the foot of the bed. She unzipped the bag and pulled out an oversized T-shirt, clean underwear and a small toiletry bag. It felt so intimate watching her prepare for bed, and I wondered if maybe this was a step too far in this pretend marriage. “I’ll let you get some sleep.”
I turned to go, but she grabbed my arm to stop me.
“Thank you again, for this … for everything today. It really was more than I’d ever expected.” She seemed suddenly shy, eyes on where she gripped my forearm. “I just need you to know how much I appreciate you for everything you’re doing for me.”
“It’s nothing—” I was silenced when she pressed closer, lips brushing my cheek for the fleetest second.
“It’s not nothing, Henry,” she murmured as she pulled away from me, leaving me feeling simultaneously hot and cold. “Goodnight … Hubby.” She winked at me before scooping up her clothes and toiletries and sauntering into the ensuite.
I stood, staring pointlessly at the closed door until I heard the shower start running. Shaking myself, I retreated, closing the bedroom door and returning to my own suite. Abernathy glared at me from his perch on my pillow.
“You’ll see her again in the morning, you fractious feline,” I muttered. My exhaustion had given way to a sort of overtired restlessness, and instead of preparing myself for bed, I sat down in front of my computer, tapping my fingers on the desk.
The photographer lurking outside reminded me that only that morning there had been a man outside Irina’s apartments, watching her. In less than a minute I had Lucian’s dash cam footage downloaded, and I’d managed to capture a few stills of the man.
Knowing I wouldn’t be able to sleep until I’d at least done something to see if I could identify him, I ran facial-recognition software against the grainy stills, cross-referencing it against government databases. Nothing came up. So he wasn’t a known criminal.
I sighed. There were other searches I could run, but they’d have to wait until morning. I wasn’t fresh enough to be slipping through digital back doors tonight.
I saved the stills, planning to ask Lucian in the morning if the man looked like any of the photographers he’d been shooing away from the marina over the last week. If it was them, and they’d worked out where Irina lived …
I removed my glasses, rubbing my eyes before I went in search of my vape. I wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight without medicating, that much was clear.
I startled awake to Abernathy standing over me, whiskers tickling my cheek.
“What do you want?” I grunted, sitting up. The clock on the bedside read two-thirty.
