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“Don’t be,” she dismisses my apology. “All of us lost, some of broken, some abandoned, but we all ended up at Everlend Estate, in the care of an incredible woman, Wendy Darling Black. She was a mother goose of sorts, taking the lot of us in and giving us so much more than just food and shelter.”

I bristle at the mention of Wendy’s name. James’ wife. Just like at the funeral, she’s painted as a saint, the woman I was groomed to loath. The longer I stay in London, the more confused I become.

“Piers, Teddy, and myself were raised at the estate. The Lost Boys we called ourselves.” She smiles thoughtfully, and I have a hard time imagining this gorgeous, sensual, and feminine woman sitting before me as a boy.

“So, these lost boys, either of them your boyfriend?” I ask, even though I know the answer.

“Oh, no. Nothing like that.” She blushes under my stare. “Just childhood friends and colleagues.”

“One of the boys, were you?” I tease, raking my gaze over her.

“Once upon a time I was.” She lifts her chin, and I admire her spirit. “There were many kids there, but the ones I considered family were Piers and Teddy. Theo…well, I call him Teddy, much to his dislike…but Theodore is a brilliant anthropology professor here in London at the University. He is more of a silent partner, where Piers and I are more hands-on with the organization. Piers founded and runs PAN industries. He’s my partner.”

“From nothing came something.” I get what she’s trying to say.

“Exactly. Had we not had that chance, weren’t saved, who knows where we would be.” She pushes her plate away. “I’m stuffed.”

“This is your way of giving back?” I ask, and she nods, but I can tell she wants to say more. I’m careful not to ask too many questions, especially about Piers and PAN Industries. I’ve already decided I can’t use her—I won’t.

She was supposed to be a pawn in a game of revenge, but I have a feeling I’m the one getting played. Every move I make now is to protect her. From Alan’s roaming hands, Piers’ rejection, and even from myself. I’m torn because with every passing second, I want her more. And I know once I have her there will be no going back.

I thought I might never see her again, and then she walks into this pub. Now, I just want to keep her company. Keep her. Of all the gin joints…

“I’m actually hoping to expand our services, but with being so busy at PAN, and the retreat, the Gala, it’s all been a bit much.” She toys with her drink, looking down at the table.

“What about your partner, this Piers fellow?” Her eyes flash up to meet mine. “He wasn’t at the retreat either, right?”

“He’s a little preoccupied with some family stuff right now.” She quickly closes the subject and looks away. It seems Scarlett can add loyal to her list of qualities, because I know she has feelings for him. I also know he’s not available. She may be a woman scorned, but she’s an excellent poker player. The more I find out about her, the more I want to know about her.

“So, this expansion?” I push to get us back to neutral territory.

“Right. I want to connect with the proper individuals to train a special section for runaways. More specifically, those at risk for being trafficking victims. I want counselors, security specialist, and even to possibly work with local authorities to reunite survivors and their families. Long term, I would like to see this program offer everything from prevention to rescue.”

I’m speechless. There is so much more to her than meets the eye. She’s damaged, but so strong. She’s determined not to need help, nor accept it, and she puts off this cool and aloof vibe. Yet, she just confessed, without realizing it, she has a heart. A very large one.

Her voice trails off, and she blushes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bore you. It’s just something I’m very passionate about.” She tears at the edges of a paper napkin.

“Not at all. It’s just…wow. That’s an incredible thing that you want to do, I just wasn’t expecting it. I hope it all works out.” The wheels in my mind start turning as I think about what type of contribution I could make. From a security and technology standpoint.

Then I remind myself I won’t be here. I’m only here temporarily. For a purpose—a purpose I keep forgetting whenever she’s near.

“Thanks. A little heavy for dinner conversation, though. Yeah?” She crumbles up the tiny white napkin pieces and drops them in her food basket.

“A bit heavy, but very commendable,” I offer as we both take the opportunity to have more drink.

“How rude of me. I’ve been talking about myself the entire time.” She motions to me. “What about you? What’s your story, Cohen James?”

“Oh, really, it’s fine. I love hearing about you. Me? I’m rather boring. Not much to tell,” I say, trying to buy myself some time to get my facts straight. What I can say…what I can’t.

“Oh, come on. I just told you more about myself in the past hour than most people know.” She encourages me to share, but I don’t miss the tinge of regret in her voice, like she’s said too much.

“Haven’t we played a version of this game? The one where I told you I own a tech company and have a weakness for indigo eyes?” I remind her. “I also love sailing. And you know I’m a runner. Which you got to see firsthand.” My mouth twitches at the corner as I fight back a smile.

“You never mentioned you owned the company.” She smiles at me again, brushing off my comment about our little run-in while I was jogging. Seeing her eyes sweep down my body in memory causes something to shift in my chest.

“Gorgeous and modest,” she teases me.