“Of course.”
“All along?”
He cocks his head. “Didyouknow it was me?”
“Of course, I did.”
“I thought so.”
Smug bastard!“What exactly made you think I knew? The way I ran away at the end?” I shrug with as much disdain as my good manners allow. “It had nothing to do with you being you.”
“I suspected you’d recognized me way before you bolted,” he says, his gaze unwavering.
“What gave me away?”
“That furious blush I could see through the lacework of your mask.”
“Tango is a sensual dance,” I retort. “If that’s all you’ve got?—”
“You blushed the moment we faced each other, long before the dance.”
I wave dismissively. “It was your tight breeches that made me blush.”
“Was it?” He puckers his mouth and moves it to the left. “Is that what made your pupils dilate so much your faux-brown eyes became black?” His mouth moves to the right. “Also, your chest heaved like crazy. It was a joy to behold.”
His gaze drops to my breasts and stays there. I follow it.No wonder he can’t peel his eyes away!My soaked top clings to every curve and valley. My nipples stick out in his direction as if pulled by a magnetic force.
I hate myself for the lack of control I have over my heart, which begins to race, heating my face and lifting my chest.
“Yes, exactly like that,” Henri says, looking up into my eyes.
Touch me! Cup my breasts, rub them like you used to! Kiss me like it’s the end of days!
Shocked by my thoughts, I lean away from him and clear my throat. “Damn! I was so pleased with my disguise! Now, you ruined it for me.”
“Your disguise was objectively good, and I doubt anyone else in that room knew it was you.” He touches my hand. “Worry not, Cindy! Your secret’s safe with me.”
“I appreciate it.”
Will he pull his hand away?
“You know what?” His touch lingers. “I’ll share a secret of mine with you on the last day of the retreat.”
“Why not now?”
“Now is not the right time.” His touch becomes less tentative, more possessive. “But I promise I’ll reveal it on Sunday after the bloggers are gone.”
Is this a ruse to make me stay a little longer?
I’d love to—so that I can focus on the search for the key, of course. The writing and critique sessions, and the various activities Henri and Jocelyn have come up with have been monopolizing a lion’s share of my attention. Every night, I’ve tried to think of a question to ask Henri that could lead us to the key. And every night I wound up, well, fantasizing about Henri.
Am I going to be the first key seeker that failed?
It’s a scary prospect. So, yes, staying here longer to do nothing but search for the key holds a strong appeal. I’m goingto run that idea by Adam and see what he says. While my being here as a travel blogger appears natural, staying on afterward might rouse Kurt’s suspicions. But maybe Adam can call on that doppelgänger he’d hired and make it look like I’ve returned to Mount Evor…
Henri’s ulterior motives and my safety aside, I believe I know what secret he’s talking about. It has to do with the events of ten years ago—the events that broke my heart and caused me to break up with him.
He’s finally going to come clean!
