Page 168 of To Catch A Rogue
Only Gemma, who'd woken him from sleep and nearly borne the consequences of such an action.
He could trust Gemma not to reveal a hint of it.
He could probably trust Barrons too, but it went against the grain to reveal how deeply the scars went.
"Especially now Balfour is out there in the wild," Barrons said. "As much as I enjoyed the look on his face when Gemma and Obsidian ruined his Russian schemes, without anything to lose, he's suddenly very dangerous."
"He's predictable," Malloryn said. "We ruined his London schemes last month, and now you've destroyed everything he built in Russia. He will come after me."
"Then we'd best prepare."
"I'd consider Jelena to be the more dangerous of the two," Gemma said with a shudder from where she sat on the divan. "She's obsessed with Balfour, and hates Malloryn with a passion."
Malloryn stared in the mirror, fixing his cravat. It suddenly felt too tight. "Jelena survived?"
"Nobody's seen or heard from her, so it has to be assumed," Gemma replied. "The Iron Maiden was empty when we went back to check."
The wintery chill of absolute dread shivered down his spine.
If he'd been human, he would have broken into a sweat.
Ears ringing, he tried to blink his way through the sudden panic, realizing Gemma and Barrons were still speaking. Their voices sounded so far away that he could barely piece them together.
"I'm sorry?" he asked, breaking free of the moment, though the clammy feel of it clung to his skin.
Barrons was gone, and only Gemma remained. He'd somehow lost time.
"He's gone," Gemma murmured, taking hold of his hands. "I told him I wanted to speak to you privately."
She'd seen.
Malloryn fought the urge to cover his tracks, but was there any point? And if this had happened once, then how was he going to prevent it again?
He had to trust someone, or else he'd never be able to hide it.
"What happened?" he demanded brusquely, his heart pounding fast enough to choke him.
"You vanished." She squeezed his hands. "One moment you were there, and the next you were gone. I could see it in your eyes. What do you remember?"
"You were taking about...her."
He couldn't say her name.
"I won't ask," Gemma said softly, "unless you ever wish to discuss it."
And I won't ever wish to discuss it.
But he was grateful to her for the care she took with his dilemma.
"You haven't asked about your wife," Gemma said, changing the topic of discussion abruptly as she fixed his cravat.
He could lie and say he hadn't given Adele a single moment of thought, but when he'd been trapped in the Iron Maiden, he'd tried to hold on to his sanity by thinking of his home, and with that, invariably, came thoughts of the woman firmly ensconced in his life.
"Adele's probably spending my entire inheritance as we speak. Is she wearing black yet?"
"I sent her a letter and forged your signature," Gemma said. "You had urgent business in Norway."
He drew back. "Thank you."
