Page 154 of The Unlikely Spare
The realization hits like a punch to my guts, stealing what little breath the gag allows.
I’ve suspected I was falling for him, but I had no idea that I’d already hit the ground, and there’s no getting back up from this. There’s no extraction plan that would ever work to remove me from the spell this man has cast over me.
While I’m having this little revelation, Nicholas has been working at freeing his hands from the rope.
He’s noticed what I should have seen immediately—they’ve tied us with climbing rope, smooth and prone to loosening with the right technique.
He wiggles his fingers, using the van’s movement to his advantage. Every bump and jolt works the knots looser. When one of his hands slips free, he immediately reaches up to pull down his gag before reaching over to remove mine.
I work my jaw, the sudden freedom to breathe properly hitting like a shock.
“I love you,” I blurt out.
Nicholas has already turned his attention to freeing his other hand, but at my words, his head jerks up, his eyebrows shooting toward his disaster of a hairline. He tilts his head, studying me like I’m a particularly puzzling piece of modern art.
I don’t say anything. I just stare into that cool blue gaze.
“I can’t help feeling like the timing and setting of your romantic declaration leave something to be desired,” he says finally.
I choke out a laugh because, of course, that would be his response. Not shock, not rejection, just criticism of my romantic timing.
He looks back down at his hands. “I’m inclined to share your affections.” His fingers fumble the knot for a second before resuming. “But I feel I should point out that we’re in the custody of people who want to use me as a political bargaining chip. Perhaps we could revisit this conversation when fewer people are trying to kidnap or kill us?”
I lean forward and press a hard kiss to his lips.
Nicholas responds, returning my kiss desperately, his one hand coming up to fist my shirt, anchoring me to him. I can taste blood from where he’s bitten his lip, feel the slight tremor in his fingers against my chest.
He kisses me like it’s the last kiss he’s ever going to have.
Which it very much might be.
When he pulls back, he swallows once before quirking an eyebrow. “Danger seems to be an aphrodisiac for us. Perhaps something else to investigate in the future?”
“Sure. Let’s schedule that in sometime,” I manage, my voice rough.
Nicholas glances toward the front, where our captors are separated by a metal partition.
“We need a plan,” he says as he finishes untying his hands and reaches over to untie mine. “How long until the announcement?”
I shake out my newly freed hand to get the blood circulating again, pins and needles shooting up my arm, then check my watch. “Twenty minutes, maybe less.”
“Then we simply need to stall for time,” Nicholas says. “Once the announcement goes public, they’ll have what they want without actually having to ransom me.”
“Pierce won’t just let us go,” I warn. “He’s not the type to leave loose ends.”
“No, but he’ll need time to figure out his next move once he realizes we’ve cut the moral high ground from under him.”Nicholas meets my eyes. “And hopefully, British Intelligence will soon have the manpower to find us. Callum and Oliver would have arranged tracking on my phone. We just need to delay for as long as we can.”
It’s not much of a plan, but it’s all we have.
And it looks like we’re going to have to put our plan into action soon because the van is starting to slow.
We quickly replace the gags and retie the ropes just loose enough to slip out if needed.
When the doors open, Pierce stands waiting, looking every inch the distinguished Scotland Yard commander I once looked up to. Behind him is a warehouse. Of course it’s a feckin’ warehouse.
“Bring them inside,” Pierce orders.
They march us into an abandoned industrial space, all concrete and rust stains. Other figures emerge from the shadows—I count at least eight, clocking their positions. There’s no way we’re going to be able to fight our way out of here.
