Page 317 of Wild Card 13

Her breath caught.

That was all it took.

I bent my head. She tipped her face up. We were an inch apart, maybe less, when the air changed.

Lucy froze.

I froze.

Slowly, I turned my head.

Alois Müller, over six feet of silent European judgment, stood at the end of the corridor. He had a folder in one hand. His expression revealed absolutely nothing.

He looked at the very small amount of space between us. Then he looked back at me. And said nothing. Not one word.

Lucy stepped back first, smoothing both hands down the front of her dress like she had been discussing facility operations and not almost kissing me beneath a framed photo of retired defensemen.

“Müller,” she said, voice perfectly professional except for the fact that her face was still bright pink. “Did you need something?”

Alois looked at her. Then at the folder in his hand. He lifted it slightly.

Lucy took two steps toward him and accepted it. “Thank you.” She opened the folder like it contained anything important. “Was there anything else?” she asked.

Alois’s eyes shifted to me again.

I stood there like a guilty teenager with a professional contract.

Then, Alois shook his head.

Lucy nodded. “Great. I’ll review this before the next meeting.”

Alois stayed silent. He turned and walked away.

Then Lucy put the folder against her chest and whispered, “Oh my God.”

I stared after him. “He knows.”

“He suspects.”

“He knows in three languages.”

She covered her mouth with the folder. Her shoulders shook. At first, I thought she was panicking. Then I realized she was laughing. Lucy’s laugh broke loose for half a second before she clapped the folder over her mouth again.

The relief hit me so fast I almost laughed too. “You think this is funny?” I whispered.

Her eyes were bright behind her glasses. “He said nothing.”

“That was the loudest nothing I’ve ever not heard.”

“He just stood there.”

“He looked at me like he was deciding where to hide the body.”

She shook her head, but she was still laughing, and for one tiny, reckless second, she let her hand touch mine.

Her fingers brushed mine. Then hooked around them. Only for the space of a heartbeat.

Lucy looked down at our hands, then back up at me. The laughter faded, but the warmth stayed. “This is the kind of thing that gets us caught.”