“Okay.” He kisses me again. “I’m sor—”
“Stop!”I protest, laughing now. I can feel his grin against my mouth, and as I turn away in a mock huff, he drapes himself over me from behind.
“Remind me again why we agreed to this,” he says, sounding more like himself than he has all evening.
“Because it would’ve taken MI5months, maybe even years, to infiltrate Fox Rex,” I say as we walk as one ambling creature toward the bedroom. “And by then, half the family would probably be dead.”
“Right.” He buries his nose in my hair, letting me lead him. “I suppose they’re very, very lucky we love them.”
“Very lucky,” I agree, even though no one in the royal family knows we’re here, or that we’re doing this. And while it’s impossible to keep them in the dark forever, I’m dreading the day we have to come clean.
Once we reach our room, Kit sinks onto the bed and peers up at me, the hollows beneath his eyes so purple that it looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks. “You still have your makeup on,” he murmurs, and I scowl.
“I probably look like a raccoon by now,” I say, rubbing my eye, but Kit brushes my hand away.
“Let me.”
He reaches toward my nightstand, where I keep a bottle of makeup remover and some cotton pads for the nights I’m too tired to wash my face. And while he’s preparing, I climb into his lap, one leg on either side of him.
“It was a rented party house, right?” I say. “There has to be some kind of paper trail with the owners, or a money trail Singh can follow—”
“I mentioned that to him already,” says Kit, soaking a cotton pad with some micellar water and gently wiping it across my cheek. “He’s checking it out, but he isn’t optimistic. It’s unlikely Guy Fawkes would slip on something so easily traceable.”
My shoulders slump as he dabs at my mascara. “They have to be basedsomewhere,right? Is it worth checking property records or…I don’t know. Pinging phones—”
“Fox Rex was banned by Oxford ages ago,” says Kit. “They haven’t got an official location, and it’s all cloak and dagger and word of mouth. No one knows who really runs it, and you can’t simply ask to join. You have to be invited. They take their privacyveryseriously.”
“So you’re saying they probably wouldn’t have let me in even if I’d gone with you in disguise?” I say, deflating a little.
“Iwas questioned extensively, and my name was on the guestlist. I doubt they would’ve taken kindly to anyone off the street trying to crash the party.”
“Give me a little credit,” I say, tucking a lock of his wavy hair behind his ear. “I wouldn’t have been some random passerby—we would’ve met in a pub somewhere, or maybe in one of your classes, and I would’ve dazzled you with all of my witty banter and pointed political insights. And now that you’re fresh off your breakup with that spoiled American brat, you’d bedesperateto impress me so I’d offer you a distraction—”
“Oh?” says Kit, running the cotton pad over my jaw. “What sort of distraction?”
I lean forward until there’s only an inch or two between our lips. “A really,reallygood one.”
With one last gentle swipe down my neck, he sets the cotton pad aside, then brushes his lips against mine. “I’m afraid it doesn’t matter how witty or insightful this supposed new girl is,” he murmurs. “The only person capable ofdistractingme is you.”
A wave of warmth runs through me, and I melt into him, capturing his mouth in a burning kiss. He meets me with every bit of intensity, as if he’s been waiting for exactly the right moment to unleash a torrent of unspoken tension and relief, and I revel in every second.
When we finally part, we’re both breathing heavily, and his fingers are tangled in my hair while mine are latched onto the front of his shirt. We stare at each other, both seemingly bewildered, before he inhales deeply, as if trying to lasso his own libido.
“I—” he begins, in what sounds an awful lot like the start ofan apology, but I’m already speaking, too, and I refuse to let him take this moment from both of us.
“I want to,” I say, and he blinks.
“Ev…” He swallows, as if it’s taking every ounce of self-control he possesses to keep talking. “You’ve been through a lot lately. We’ve both been through a lot, and everything that happened last year—”
“If you’re talking about Jasper,” I say, and he visibly winces, “then stop. Please. He’s done taking things from me—from us. Right now, tonight—this is just you and me, okay? No one else. And I want to. I’ve wanted to for a while. I love you,” I say as he opens his mouth again. “And even if it’s…weird or awkward or uncomfortable…I still want to try, okay? With you. And I want to keep trying until it’s wonderful, because I know it will be. Because it’s you, and even the weird and awkward and uncomfortable in my life is a damn good time when you’re there with me.”
Kit’s Adam’s apple bobs, and his thumb strokes my jaw as his gaze searches mine. “I want it to be perfect for you,” he says softly. “Not some…adrenaline-induced whim after a rotten night.”
“The only way it wouldn’t be perfect,” I say, in what might actually be the cheesiest true sentence to ever leave my lips, “is if you aren’t there.”
Kit swallows once more, but this time he rests his forehead against mine. “You’re sure? You can’t take it back.”
“I won’t want to,” I promise. “Even if it’s the worst thing about tonight—which it won’t be—I just want to be with you.”
