24. Grace
Grace
The Zurich train station was cavernous and loud.
Voices echoed off high glass ceilings, off trains sitting in their parallel platforms, off a million signs directing me in every which way.
I stepped off the train feeling almost human again.
A nap and a few more chapters of my Marine-protects-the-witness romance had blunted the sharp edges of my earlier breakdown. Not gone. Just manageable.
Garrett was two steps ahead, scanning the platform, that familiar watchfulness in his gaze. He didn’t know what Henri looked like—unless Arthur had sent him photos already—so he must have been scanning for threats. Nothing new there.
Except there was so much new. Last night, I’d kissed my growly protector, dreamed about him all night, and masturbated to those fantasies in the morning. How could all of that have happened in twenty-four hours? Last night felt like a lifetime ago.
And of course, four hours ago, when we’d pulled out of Paris’s station, I’d cried all over his shirt.
It felt like I’d been a sniffly mess for over half an hour, but it was probably closer to ten minutes.
Maybe five. But he hadn’t pulled away and hadn’t given me the brain-chemistry speech. He’d just been there to hold me.
I let out a little sigh, deep inside my chest where he couldn’t hear it.
I wouldn’t be able to read SEAL romances anymore after this.
Not after so much time in Garrett’s arms, even if it was just to cry.
Or I could make sure I got in one more hug to memorize the sensation, then read more of them and remember.
Focus, Grace.
“There.” Dmitry pointed toward the end of the platform. “Henri.”
The man walking toward us had to be in his early eighties, but he moved like someone much younger, weaving through the thinning crowd with purpose.
His silver hair was swept back from a face set with deep lines.
He was taller than me by a few inches, but far short of Garrett.
His eyes kept darting to the people around him.
And he was rolling a small hard-sided suitcase behind him. That wasn’t a sign he was escorting us to his hotel, was it?
“Garrett?” I said.
“I see it.” He stepped closer to me.
“Dmitry.” Henri clasped the Russian’s hand briefly, then turned to me. His gaze softened as he took my hands. “You have her eyes.”
“Her?”
“Delphine.” He said the name as if it were something sacred. Before I could respond, he was moving, motioning for us to follow. “We need to go. The train to Prague leaves in fifteen minutes.”
“Prague?” Garrett fell into step behind my left elbow.
“Platform fourteen. Over here.” Henri pointed toward the adjacent platform, where a blue-and-red train waited.
Garrett’s attention snapped to Dmitry. “You didn’t say anything about Prague.”
“Because I didn’t know.” Dmitry spread his hands. “Henri, why didn’t you call me?”
“I didn’t want to create a panic over the phone.
” Henri led us to the end of platform sixteen, then across to platform fourteen where the night train waited.
“I’ll explain everything once we’re aboard, but a man came to my hotel an hour ago, asking questions about any American contacts I might have. ”
My stomach dropped.
“What did he want?” asked Garrett.
“The egg, of course.” Henri glanced back at us. “I told him nothing. But the questions he asked—he knew things he shouldn’t have. It made me uncomfortable enough I packed the moment he left.”
Garrett pulled out his phone.
Henri continued, “I bought four tickets in the sleeper cars for us.”
“Only four?” asked Garrett. “Where are your people? Bodyguards, assistants, someone you travel with?”
“I’m an old man who lives a normally quiet life,” Henri said with a chuckle. “I’m not the type who requires an entourage. I was simply visiting friends.”
Prague? How had I been in four countries within the span of a week, and now I was heading to another? How was I even moving forward at this point? “Why Prague?”
“My home in Prague has proper security and people who know me.” Henri looked at me over his shoulder. “Plus all of my documentation, photographs, and letters are there. You’ll want to see them.”
Garrett caught up to Henri with two long strides and showed him an image on his phone. “Is this the man who visited you?”
Henri frowned at the photo. “Yes.”
“Conrad Richter,” Garrett said to me.
My steps stuttered. “How is he already here?”
“I don’t know.” He put his hand on my back and ushered me aside while the other two men came to a stop and waited for us.
“Arthur told me Richter’s boss, Werner Kessler, has an estate outside of Prague.
If we get on that train, we’re not just walking into Henri’s territory, but we’re walking into Richter and Kessler’s. ”
Kessler. The obsessive collector who’d do anything to get his hands on the egg.
“In London,” he said quietly, “Richter warned me about the hard way. You remember?”
My chest tightened as I replayed the moment Garrett had found me, stashed me in a doorway, and confronted the man who’d been following me. The man who’d stolen my lip balm, thinking it was the egg. “I remember.”
In London, I’d been so determined to prove Garrett was overreacting and that I didn’t need protecting.
So stubborn about my independence I’d walked straight into danger.
But standing here, looking up into Garrett’s dark brown eyes, with his body between the crowd and me, I didn’t feel weak. I didn’t feel like I was in danger.
I felt safer here than at any other time in my life. “If you’re willing to go, I’ll go.”
He nodded once, gestured for me to continue walking toward the train, and pulled out his phone. After half a beat, he said, “Arthur? Yeah, it’s me. Richter was in Zurich. He showed up at Henri’s hotel an hour ago asking questions. We’re heading to Prague tonight.”
Prague. Closer to answers about Didi. But, oh my god, Prague!
Garrett grunted a few responses as we walked. Phone in his left hand, duffel over his left shoulder, and his right hand still floating at my back. Still moving me forward, or making sure I didn’t wander off? When he finished with Arthur, he pocketed his phone. “We’ll have backup when we get there.”
“Backup?”
“I’ll fill you in when we have some privacy.”
When we reached the entry to the sleeping car, Henri handed us our tickets.
Dmitry checked his watch and inclined his head toward the main hall. “I need some food. Does anyone want anything?”
Henri withdrew a long wallet and pressed some euros into Dmitry’s hand. “There’s a wine shop in the concourse. Something red plus glasses, if they have them?”
Dmitry nodded and headed for the main hall.
We boarded and found Henri’s room at the end of the train. He stopped at the door and pointed down the narrow corridor. “Yours will be in the next car, Grace.”
Garrett walked with me, not slowing when he pointed at a door and said, “My room’s here.”
We continued into the next car, to where my compartment sat at the end of the train.
It was a compact space with an L-shaped gray sofa that wrapped around a small table, bunk beds stacked against one wall, and a window showing the platform outside.
A tiny bathroom was tucked behind a door.
Two small bottles of sparkling wine sat on the table next to a tray with glasses.
I rolled my bag behind me and slid it under the bed. “What’s the deal with Arthur and this backup?”
Garrett dropped his duffel on the sofa, the egg still nestled inside the travel pack strapped across his chest. “He’s flying to Prague tonight. He and Merlin are in Monaco right now, but they’ve wrapped up what they needed to do and are taking the company jet.”
“Flying would be faster than the train?”
He nodded thoughtfully. “But without a private jet, airlines also require documentation, a lot of waiting, and a whole lot more security feeds for someone to use to find us.”
Right. “Plus I don’t really fly well.”
“No, you don’t.” The corner of his mouth twitched. Oh my god. He almost laughed again. “His father owns an international defense contractor, so he’s going to hire on a couple of local guys in Prague as additional security.”
“You think it’s that dangerous?”
“Honestly? Before I heard Richter was in Zurich asking questions, I would have said no. But now? I don’t know what we’ll be facing, so it’s best to be prepared.” He turned his wrist over to check his watch. “I assume you want to spend some time with Henri?”
I nodded.
“Don’t trust everything he says.” He dipped his chin, as though cutting off any argument I might have made to defend Henri—which I probably would have. “Ask him questions that test what he knows. Don’t fill in gaps for him. Stay quiet and let him answer.”
“Yeah, not talking. Not my strength.”
His mouth twitch turned into an almost-smile, and oh my wow, it was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. “I have a feeling you can do anything you put your mind to.”
The words were innocent, no doubt meant to encourage me, but all they did was make me suddenly aware of the two of us standing in this cramped space.
We were only feet apart, and every inch of my body demanded I close the distance between us.
He was still wearing the black shirt and jeans, under a light jacket for the cool evening.
My brain clicked over into that place that wanted to see him without his shirt again.
Calm down, girl.
I pushed it all down because I did want to know about Didi’s story. I wanted every story Henri could tell me. This was my opportunity, and I’d regret it if I didn’t take it. “I’ll do my best. Can we go now?”
He nodded and opened the door for me, following close behind.