Page 59 of After the Spy Seduces

She ran from the stall and out into the fairgrounds, turning in a circle to search in every direction, but Garrett was gone, vanished into the mulling crowd. A cry of frustration and anger rose on her lips. She scanned the fairgrounds around her—nothing. Not a single glimpse of him.

Gone. As if he hadn’t been there at all.

The sea of bodies, the smoke from the torches and lanterns, all the odors, the noise—it pressed in upon her until it threatened to suffocate her. She had to leave this place.Now.

She shoved her way through the crowd, desperate for space and air. She had no idea where she was going, no idea what direction would take her back to the hotel, and back to where Christopher would know to find her. So she headed down a row of stalls that she’d wandered past earlier and hoped would lead her out of the shifting maze that the fairgrounds had turned into.

She stopped. An icy chill pricked at the base of her spine.

Someone was watching her.

Slowly, she turned to scan the crowd. Everyone was milling about, talking and laughing, drinking and eating. A few couples were dancing randomly in the walkways. People in masks and costumes now outnumbered those in regular dress, and all of the crowd moved in undulating waves like the sea…

Except for two young men wearing seamen’s clothes, who slipped through the crowd directly toward her. Their gazes were fixed on her, ignoring the festival around them.

The French.Were they coming after the diary now? Garrett had said they’d approach her before she left the festival. But fear raced through her veins. She couldn’t do this, not without Christopher at her side, and retreated slowly backward through the jostling crowd.

They increased their strides.

Diana turned and ran. Her heart pounded as she shoved her way through the crowd, not caring who she pushed aside or the angry shouts and curses that went up at her. Run! No glimpse of Garrett, no sign of Christopher—Run!She didn’t dare slow her strides to look behind, but with every step, she sensed the two young sailors drawing closer.

A stitch in her side shot pain through her abdomen. Stumbling onward, she pressed her hand against her waist to physically push down the pain and keep going.

Her fingers brushed against the hard edge of the diary in her skirt pocket. Knowing she couldn’t outrun them, she halted in her steps. With a frustrated cry of surrender, she wheeled around to face them, pulling the little book out of her pocket and brandishing it like a weapon.

They stopped less than ten paces away and stared at her, like dogs cornering a rabbit.

“You want this?” She shook it in the air, drawing the attention of the crowd around them as she yelled the question again, this time in French.

She didn’t give a damn who saw her now, who overhead what was happening. Her family was in danger, and curse them all for making her fear for the ones she loved!

One of the men pointed at the diary and nodded. Then he held out his hand to beckon her to come to him.

No way in hell.“If you want this, then take it,” she bit out, all of her shaking with fury and fear. “And leave my family alone!”

Then she threw the diary at the two men as hard as she could.

She spun around and broke once more into a run. From the corner of her eye, she saw the two men dive into the sea of bodies after the book. Victory surged through her, but not enough to drive away the fear.

Not stopping to look back, she ran on.

She changed directions and headed toward the edge of the fairgrounds near the wharves, where the light from the festival’s torches and fires didn’t reach. Safety lay in the darkness, and she was desperate to flee. Helpless and vulnerable, she stumbled onward toward the black bay.

A man stepped in front of her without warning. She ran into him, knocking hard against his chest. She staggered back a step, and his arms went around her to steady her.

With a small gasp, she darted her gaze up to his face. Then nearly broke down with relief. “Christopher!”

“This way.” Grabbing her hand, he pulled her with him as he ran toward the dock.

She stumbled beside him as she struggled to keep up with his long strides. But he didn’t slow.

“The French have the diary,” she panted out. “I saw Garrett—Meri’s safe. He knows where she is. She’s safe!”

“Good.” He glanced back through the darkness toward the festival. “But we’re not.”

He led her at a near run down the wooden pier that stretched between the docked boats and into the shadows. She followed, putting her complete trust and her life once more into his hands.

When they reached the end of the pier, he jumped onto a little boat tied to the dock and pulled her up with him on the small aft deck. He cut the rope with a flick of a knife and shoved the boat away from the dock to let it drift out into the dark bay. Then he kicked open the little door to the tiny cabin below and pushed her inside.