14

They stopped in a field on the outskirts of the village where a silver mist softened the awakening light of morning on the

far horizon. The field sloped down to a valley where sandstone homes and shops stitched with worn cobblestone paths slumbered.

Soon the animals would stir, rousing the sleeping inhabitants from their beds and into another day of chores and commerce,

but for now all was quiet. A moment suspended in time, soft around the edges and peaceful to the mind.

At least it would be if Esme weren't skipping and laughing through the grass, head thrown back in pure delight as the mist

coated her face and hair and skin in pearly drops. Jasper found it rather difficult to remain peaceful when his heart thundered

in sheer delight as he watched her. Inhibitions gone, laughing at being alive. He very much wanted to be alive. With her.

"What a night! Never have I been on such a thrilling heist."

"Never? You've been missing out." He smacked the horse's rump. The animal snorted and trotted away, nose in the air, searching

for the scent of home and his stall of hay.

"So I have." She untied the silk scarf that had kept the tiara secured atop her head during the ride and fitted it around her trim waist once again. "Come dance with me."

"I'm enjoying the view from here."

"I dance much better with a partner, remember?" She sashayed toward him, conjuring memories of champagne, dancing around the

Concorde, and a Victrola playing "Clarinet Marmalade" out a hotel window. The Valkyrie's diamond-speckled wings fluttered

with each step.

"Oh, I remember all right."

She wiggled her fingers at him. "Dance with me, Jasper."

He could have held back with his waning thread of self-preservation but hearing her say his name snapped it in two and tossed

it to the wind. He'd forgotten what those two syllables said in her warm honey tone did to him. The unchallenged power it

gave her and the desperation it stirred to hear her say it again.

Not boy , not bastard , or captain , or thief , or Truitt . Those were all placeholders, titles of what he was and his position in the world. Jasper was who he was, all the parts of him that were overlooked in favor of what he was. Thief certainly didn't ruffle her, illegitimacy hadn't either, but his partnering with law enforcement was a sticky subject and

one he was loath to bring up while she crooked her finger so prettily at him.

He met her in the field, the grass slick beneath their feet, and the chill of dawn a brush against their skin. He took her

hand and spun her around like they were cutting a rug at the Italian rooftop garden at the Criterion in London. Hands shaking,

legs kicking, and intoxicating exhilaration coursing between them. Together, laughing out loud and seizing the moment to be

alive.

He spun her around again. She came back to him and pressed close, one hand slipping to his shoulder as the other brushed a soaked curl from over his left eyebrow. A gentle smile pulled at her full lips. Taking her right hand in his left, he slipped his free arm around her waist.

"I looked for you, you know," he said softly. "After you left."

Her smile faltered. "I didn't want to be found."

"And now?"

"I'm deciding." Her fingernails trailed over his collar, standing up the hairs on the back of his neck. Mist speckled her

sooty lashes like tiny diamonds. They sparkled as they flickered up and down, her sky-blue gaze darkening between meeting

his own and looking down to his lips.

Height had never been a discrepancy between them, so it took little effort or time for her to brush her lips to his. Over

almost before he felt it, but it was enough to stir the words he had carved into his bones and tried to forget.

"Why did you run? Four years ago I woke up to the end of the war, a hangover, and no wife."

"Twelve hours of marriage doesn't make for a wife."

"It did to me."

"We collided in a star-crossed rendezvous. We never stood a chance. Like fools, we rushed in where angels fear to tread and

wise men never go."

"Neither of us is an angel, and as for being wise..." He pulled her closer, thrilling in the way her body melted into his,

betraying her words, and the way her orange-blossom perfume mingled with the scent of rain on her skin. "You're the kind of

woman who defies all expectations, but I'm a different kind of man who makes his own rules. Would it be so terrible for us

to fall in love?"

"Ask me in the morning."

Her arms circled his neck. It was all the invitation he needed. The moment held suspended until he kissed her and then all

the world exploded in color and light, life humming between them.

Jasper was lost to it.

***

Esme clipped on her pearl earrings and stared down at her husband's sleeping form on the rumpled sheets. A late-afternoon

breeze, still cool and gray from the earlier rain, blew through the open window, stirring the fine curtains and ruffling the

golden-brown hair over Jasper's ear.

A memory of him lying like this stirred through her, but champagne bubbles proved too thick to entirely recall that night

from four years ago. This time there had been no champagne to stymie the rush of blood in her veins, the thrill of their escape

thundering in her heart, or the desire blazing through her. This time she recalled the way his mouth fit over hers, the strength

in his arms as he held her, the soft whispers in her ear, the way she clung to him in need. Not need for the sake of intimacy

but for the sake of needing him .

That was when she knew it was time to leave.

Jasper Truitt had a hold on her heart, and it wasn't one she was ready for him to lay claim to. Nothing good came from laying claim. It left brokenness and despair in its wake when that momentary tenderness abandoned her for good. And it would. Time and again she'd witnessed it. Her father, whoever he was. Mimsy, for all the mother she was. To Esme's own dreams falling victim to cold reality. She could not rely on a single thing but herself, so it was best to leave behind all attachments before they deserted her. Jasper might have been different, but why take the risk?

"It's better this way," she whispered. More to him or to herself, she could no longer say. She slid the Valkyrie into her

suitcase and locked it shut. Soon enough she could put all this behind her and unravel her heart from Jasper's and walk free

from the countess's death threats. Freedom, finally.

"Don't do this, Esme." Jasper looked up at her from where his head rested on the pillow. Not an hour ago her head had rested

there too. Resignation pooled in those gorgeous brown eyes of his, but it was the disappointment that cut her to the quick.

She attempted to cover the pain by swiping lipstick across her lips, swollen from his kisses, and dropped the tube into her

purse.

"I have to, darling. You should know that about me by now."

"I know that's what you want me to think. That these trysts mean nothing to you."

"But they did mean something. A fizzing afternoon of fun, but all good things must come to an end. Now, if you'll excuse me.

I don't wish to miss my train."

He shifted on the bed. The bedsheet lowered to his waist, revealing his hands tied together with her silk belt while he still

slept. "Say what you want, but deep down you know you keep running because of fear. What you should fear is that hired gun

and his Italian mistress. Don't give them the Valkyrie."

If only he knew the consequences of such actions. Consequences she couldn't allow him to be anywhere near. She owed him that.

"And give it to you instead?"

"Cut ties with them, Esme. They're dangerous."

"I'm a grown woman. I can handle myself, though I do admit you did an admirable job of it earlier." She swept an appreciative look over the length of him and steeled herself against the rush of emotions it whirled in her. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out his freshly cleaned and pressed handkerchief. The one he had used to tenderly clean the mud from her face. She moved to place it on the nightstand.

"Keep it," he said softly. "I like to think of you owning something of mine. Even if it's no longer my last name."

A swift cut to the heart as only he could deliver. She returned the handkerchief to her purse.

"I'll be out of these bonds in a matter of minutes," he added.

"Yes, but it's enough to give me a head start. Then I suppose you'll come after me again. Makes a girl blush having a man

chase after her so determinedly."

"I will come, but not for you." He sighed and in it she could hear "not this time." "I'm coming for the Valkyrie."

She was crossing a line with no way of changing course. They had sidestepped each other across Europe, playing cat and mouse

for the tiara as well as their attraction to each other. She enjoyed the game, the teasing, the suggestive smiles, but it

wasn't until she'd awoken next to him an hour ago, his warmth curling all around her like a comforting blanket, his arm possessively

slung across her hip, and that curl of hair—applesauce and crackers! That curl! It was no longer a clever game of wit and

skill. It had become a game her heart was tangled into. Curse its impractical longings.

Her impractical beating heart wished only to crawl back into bed with him while her sensible mind pushed her toward the door.

From the regret in his eyes, she knew she would not be welcome anywhere near him ever again. Her leaving the morning after their wedding had cut him. She saw that now. This leaving broke something inside him, and he was using the pieces to build a wall that would keep her out.

It was what she had wanted all along. No attachments, no responsibilities, nothing to hold her back or keep her down. Then

why did a piece of her feel broken as well?

"Because what seemed like candlelight last night is only the light of a freight train coming straight on in the morning." Mimsy's astute advice echoed in her mind. "Best to wake up before it lays you out flat on the track."

Harsh as it was, Mimsy was right. Esme had no desire to be laid out on a track with the chugging wheels of tender emotion

flattening her. She had enough worries with Countess Accardi and Pirazzo if she didn't hand over the tiara in time for the

countess's performance.

With that in mind, she picked up her suitcase and started for the door.

Before opening it, she turned back. "It's been a swell time. Goodbye, Jasper." She blew him a kiss and left.