These thoughts took Saffron from her flat to Kings Road. When she reached the corner before the restaurant where Alexander had told her to meet him, she slowed her steps. Anxiety crept up her neck like the cold autumn chill.
At the very least, she and Alexander could talk about the Amazonian expedition as they dined. That was a safe topic of conversation, hopefully, one that would last them through the meal. She wanted them to be friends. That was the only hope she allowed to take root as she opened the fogged glass door of the restaurant.
CHAPTER3
“I was half-convinced you wouldn’t come.”
Saffron stumbled over the threshold and reached a hand out to prevent herself from falling. Alexander caught it, steadying her.
She straightened up, gently withdrawing her hand from his grip. Even through her gloves, her freezing fingers could feel the heat of his touch. It felt far too intimate far too fast. Friends did not linger over simple touches like that. With a too-bright smile, she said, “Don’t be silly. You promised me stories from the Amazon, if I recall correctly.”
“That I did.” By the intent way Alexander looked at her, she realized that he was taking in her appearance. She resisted the urge to fidget with her rain-dotted coat or check to see if her dark hair had slipped its pins. She removed her coat, using the movement to cover her own observations. He’d already given his coat to the maître d’ and stood before her, tall and a little imposing in a navy suit that stretched a bit at his shoulders. His olive skin had lost some of the golden tan he’d brought back from the Amazon, but his sable hair and watchful eyes were as she remembered.
He offered his arm. “Shall we? Hard to reveal gripping adventures on an empty stomach.”
That was precisely what occupied them for the meal. From the moment they were shown to their table, a cozy side booth, to the last bite of their excellent meal, Alexander regaled her with tales from therainforest. His descriptions of encounters with creatures in the course of questing for the plants on her specimen list had her gasping, laughing, and groaning. For one who was usually economical with his words, he proved an engrossing storyteller.
“I refuse to believe that a monkey snatched the fruit from your hand,” she declared after the waiter had swept away the remnants of their dessert.
Alexander chuckled. “But you believed the caiman story?”
Saffron narrowed her eyes. “You make it sound as though I should not.”
“I would think that climbing a tree over the river to avoid a miniature crocodilian sounds more far-fetched than a monkey plucking a rumberry from my hand.”
Smiling, she said, “Perhaps I like the image of you scrambling out of the water and into a tree too much.”
The warmth that had danced in the depths of his dark eyes heated to something more than friendly. After replaying her words to herself, she realized she’d sounded more flirtatious than intended. It had been far too easy to slip into their rapport from the weeks they’d prepared for the expedition together. Thus far, he’d shown none of the surly, dictatorial attitude she’d been so upset by in their most recent encounters.
She cleared her throat, reaching for the now cold dregs of her coffee. “Now, tell me what’s new at the U. I worry being gone for nearly a month will have put me quite out of it.” Not that she’d ever been “in it” when it came to the inner circles of the biology and botany departments. Being the only woman in the North Wing of the University College had its challenges, including not being included in the gossip mill but still being one of its frequent targets.
“Let’s see,” Alexander said, humor fading as he smoothed the white tablecloth. His hand was mottled with shiny pink scars from his battlefield injury during the Great War. “Cunningham has me paired with St. John on something that bores even me to tears.” Saffron laughed a little at that. Alexander’s field of microbiology meant that his studies had titles that made even the most stalwartscholars yawn. “Miller and Aster have been arguing over funding, but that’s not news. Ericson is making noise about another expedition soon, since he missed out on the Amazon. Something on the Mediterranean.”
“That would be quite the thing,” she said, straightening up. “Is there any real interest in the possibility?”
“There is, actually.” Alexander shifted in his seat, his hands smoothing out the tablecloth once again. His eyes followed the movement, a restless combination that made Saffron’s instincts perk up. When he swallowed hard, then cleared his throat, she was definitely paying attention. He was never one to beat around the bush.
“I had a visit from my brother,” he said.
Her eyebrows winged up. He’d last mentioned his brother during a heated argument that had left Saffron feeling raw. “Is he well?” she asked cautiously.
“More or less,” he replied. “He was on a train into town a week ago and a man in his compartment died.”
“Oh, but that’s awful,” she said, checking her urge to put her hands on his if only to stop him from continuing to smooth the tablecloth. He was clearly perturbed by this turn of events. “Did he attempt to revive him?”
“Yes, he did,” Alexander said slowly. “But a sudden death, when no one present knows the man or his circumstances, leads to a lot of questions.”
“Naturally.”
“Adrian was questioned,” he continued, his words coming out with crisp intention, “at length.”
Understanding rose through her, swift and painful. “Was he mistreated? What happened?”
His eyes met hers at last, full of wariness. “I do not believe he was mistreated. But he has been taken into the police station half a dozen times since, usually for hours at a time.”
Silence fell between them, interrupted only by the gentle, distant clink of silverware on porcelain from the only other occupied table in the restaurant. Alexander was speaking so carefully, so roundabout,that Saffron wondered if he worried about offending her. But why … Suspicion gripped her. “Alexander, at which train station did Adrian’s train arrive?”
“King’s Cross.”
