Page 59 of The Bachelor Spy
And even during the few brief exchanges theyhadmanaged, she had not been her usual self.
Oh, she’d tried.
Made a valiant attempt at smiles and cheerful little remarks.
But something was decidedly not right with her.
He had assumed it was simply the reality of impending motherhood settling in, but now he wasn’t so certain. Her look, her quietness, the way she watched him out of the corner of her eye …
Her caution.
With me.
But in all honesty, he felt very unsure of anything at the moment.
After his midnight confrontation with Evie—and the subsequent maddening confusion of her response—Blake was beginning to suspect his famed powers of observation had abandoned him entirely. He’d dreamed last night of sprinting through the house in search of the blasted woman and kissing her until she was as senseless as he’d become.
A very fine dream.
But an absolute nuisance in practice.
No decent chap should think of romancing any woman while wearing such abominable clothes.
He’d just turned down the corridor toward the music room when a low male voice said, “There’s got to be something else that shows us where the tunnel is.”
The urgency in the voice, the harsh whisper, instantly pricked the part of Blake’s brain that never stopped indexing people and potential threats.
His mind fell into formation before he consciously commanded it. He moved soundlessly down the corridor. The voices grew clearer as he approached.
It was Pennington again.
And Edwards.
“I’m not taking no risks if we don’t even have a solid idea where to look,” came the other man’s response.
“Grandad gave me another idea, but I ain’t been able to find it yet.”
Blake leaned nearer. Was Pennington the one who’d been rummaging through Freddie’s office?
But what else could he wish to find related to the old chapel? How would anything else offer answers to him about some fictional tunnel and treasure?
“Blake?”
He spun at the whisper and found Grace standing much too near, her expression shuttered in a way that sank straight through his chest.
Dash it!
How long had she been watching?
“Good afternoon, my lady.” He dipped into a bow, his grin moving into place as usual.
Her smile failed to meet her eyes.
Something was wrong.
“We need to talk.”
His grin faltered, sobered, disappeared entirely.
