“Shouldn’t this place be closed by now?” Sydney asked as they stepped in to see a vast expanse of grounds devoid of people.
“Sort of,” Winter answered. He leaned toward her and nudged her gently with his shoulder. “I called in a favor.”
Sydney had to smile a little. “Someday I’ll get used to your perks.”
He lifted an expectant eyebrow at her, then offered her his elbow as he tucked his hands into his pockets. “Is that your way of telling me we’ll have future dates, Miss Cossette?”
She accepted his arm. “Are you calling this a date, Mr. Young?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m not calling it a business meeting, if that’s what you’re asking.”
She laughed. A light breeze blew around them, and Winter leaned slightly into her as if to shield her from the cool air. She could tell that his gait was still stiff, the pain of his wound slowing him down. Her own steps were awkward, given the way her ankle had been twisted on the cargo ship. But neither of them said a word about it. For a while, they walked in a comfortable silence, taking in the beauty of the gardens around them. The grounds seemed to go on and on, rows of perfectly trimmed hedges and ponds surrounded by quiet walking paths and wooden benches. Some distance away, a massive greenhouse rose in architectural splendor, its glass reflecting the colors of the darkening sky. The trees lining the vast pool across from the structure divided the sky with their slender winter branches, casting long, elegant shadows across the grass.
Sydney closed her eyes and savored the crisp air, taking in the shifting of seasons. All she could think about was the warmth of Winter’s body walking beside her, guiding her along the magical paths.
As they passed an elegant temple of classical white columns, Winter cleared his throat. “Where do you go after this?” he asked her in a low voice. “Or is that classified?”
“Classified,” Sydney answered automatically, then regretted shutting him down so quickly.Loyalty first to a secret.“Probably back to headquarters for a bit, to see out the remainder of this case and answer any questions that might come up after the CIA makes its arrests. It’ll go on for a few months yet.”
“Anything I should be concerned about?”
She shook her head. “I think you’re free to go back to your life now,” she said. “Wherever that might take you next.”
“I have a few things of my own to sort out with Claire and my team,” he said. Then he hesitated for a moment. “Go easy on Leo, will you? Tell Sauda it wasn’t his fault. That he was forced into a…”
“I know.” Sydney nodded. “We’ll take care of it. His charges will be dropped.”
Winter nodded as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
As he did, Sydney reached into the breast pocket of her jacket and pulled something out for him. It was a business card for the Claremont Hotel, the kind that any patron to the place could probably get—on one side, an embossed image of the hotel’s crest in thin gold threading, and on the other, a simple phone number.
“If you’re ever in need of help,” Sydney said, “call us. Give the operator your name and tell them you’d like to book the London Suite. They’ll run your voice through an analyzer and then patch you through to Panacea.”
Winter stared at the card, then pocketed it carefully with a nod. “Thank you.”
“It’s not much. You helped save a lot of people.” She gave him a little nudge. “I think you did all right.”
At that, something brightened within him. A thankless good deed. He looked away, as if embarrassed, but she could see the glimmer of asmile on his lips. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” he muttered.
Sydney smiled, too, and concentrated on their path. The light dimmed further, and the colors in the garden faded into blues.
“Off on your world tour soon, then?” she asked.
“And on to the next mission for you?” he answered.
She nodded. “On to the next,” she echoed.
They were both circling around the conversation that neither one of them wanted to have, the acknowledgment of what they both knew was inevitable.
That this was it. They had completed their mission together, and their futures held paths that led them in opposite directions. Winter would return to the spotlight, where he belonged, where he needed to be. And Sydney would go back to her life in the shadows, the world underneath what everyone knew. A spy and a superstar could never make it work.
So she stopped in her tracks and tried to gather the right words. She was used to goodbyes, but she had never said goodbye before to Winter Young.
“Look, I…” she began.
He took her hand in his and pulled her gently to him. His head leaned down toward her.
“Dance with me,” he murmured in her ear.
