Page 72 of Border Control
No response mentally, but Dom’s breath sharpens. “Law-rah, you… you did it. You… disappeared.”
But far from excited for me, he sounds disappointed.
“Good. Now you won’t know what’s coming.” I trail my nails over his chest again, trying to keep myself mentally in my office. It’s like reading one text while reciting another: it'll take practice.
Although, I was enjoying the ripple of feelings from him as I stroked his chest. It's too tempting to listen in, to feel what I'm doing to him.
I mentally step out of the playroom, and Dom's lips quirk, showing a flash of incisor.‘There you are.’
‘Yes.’My heart beats faster. Too fast. Dom really is in deeper than any other partner. My stomach twists. No one has ever been this close to me, or knows so much about me.
It's too much.
I stagger back. “I don't want this. Get out of my head.”
Dom frowns. “Find the room you used, step inside it.”
“I, I can't.”
“Law-rah, slow your thoughts. Take a deep breath.” There's an edge to his voice. “We can't upset the calm of the mind-sync, Law-rah.”
Jagged red edges close in. I can't breathe.
‘Danger, need help.’Nevare.
‘She is with me, I will help her, don't do anything, Nevare,’Dom says.
My phone gives a jaunty ring. I push against Dom to stand and pull it out of my pockets with trembling fingers.
Morgan.
The red edges ebb back, shoved away by Dom.‘Law-rah, stay calm.’
“I am fucking calm,” I mutter as I answer. “Morgan, good morning.”
“Good afternoon, you mean.”
I glance at my watch. Two minutes after twelve. “Apologies. I’m still knee deep in the enquiry you asked me to field?—”
“That was for in-between other pieces of work. What’s the latest on John's thinking?”
I close my eyes. “It's Saturday.”
“I’m well aware of that. John’s mobile is off.”
I gather together my patience. “He said he needed to think about which witnesses to call first. Presumably, that’s what he’s doing today.”
“Why don’t you know exactly?”
I dig my nails into my palm. How Morgan expects me to know what John’s thinking boggles my mind. I’m not psychic.
Ish.
‘Not psychic. Maybe a sensitive,’ Nevare muses before Dom whisks him away.
Ignoring the intrusion, I say, “We’ll find out more on Monday.”
“You've been helping him, Lisa. You should know his strategy inside and out.”
