Chapter 22
Sabine
I was halfway through my slice of cheesecake when Alex emerged from the command room.
I heard her boots on the marble of the foyer, but caught only a glimpse of her face as she passed the kitchen door.
Her shoulders were rigid beneath her black sweater.
She headed straight for the stairs without a word.
"Everything okay?" Kara called after her.
Alex kept walking as if she hadn't heard, her boots making muffled sounds as she climbed the staircase.
The silence that followed felt thick enough to touch. Kara's eyes met Cam's, then Ellie's. Something passed between them, a wordless communication I wasn't privy to.
"Let's clean up," Kara said finally, gathering plates and utensils. Ellie stood, collecting our glasses. Their movements were synchronized, like dancers who'd performed the same routine a thousand times. I watched them work, feeling useless and out of place.
"I'm going to gear up for evening patrol," Cam announced.
Kara nudged Ellie with her hip as she passed. "I'm sure it's nothing. She'll tell us if it is." She turned toward the hallway. "Cam, I'll be on cameras and comms tonight."
Cam nodded once before disappearing into the command room.
I pushed back from the table, my chair scraping against the floor. Ellie didn't look up from the dishes she was rinsing, her back to me, water running loud enough to discourage conversation. The muscles in her forearms flexed as she scrubbed a stubborn spot on a plate.
I stood there for a moment, uncertain, the air between us vibrating with unspoken tension. Whatever had happened on that phone call had changed something in the house. I could feel it, like the pressure drop before a storm.
I needed to escape the tension, so I slipped away to the solarium at the far end of the house.
The glass-walled room stood dark and silent, a sanctuary of green shadows against the night.
I flicked on a single wall sconce, casting just enough amber light to navigate between the potted palms and trailing vines.
The phone call bothered me. Not just the call itself, but the ripple effect it created—the way Alex had shut down, the worried glance Ellie tried to hide when she thought I wasn't looking. Something was wrong, and I was being kept in the dark. Again.
My fingers trailed along the leaves of a sprawling monstera as I made my way to the wicker chair tucked beneath its canopy. The plant's massive leaves created a natural privacy screen, though who I was hiding from in an empty room, I couldn't say.
I settled into the chair, feeling the humid warmth of the solarium envelop me as I opened my book.
Marius and Cosette were meeting in the garden at night, finding each other in the darkness.
I ran my finger along the lines, picturing the lovers' whispered conversations, their tentative touches, the thrill of forbidden connection.
The glass walls of the solarium seemed to disappear as I read, replaced by Hugo's garden walls.
The scent of the tropical plants around me transformed into night-blooming flowers of a Parisian garden.
For precious minutes, I wasn't a journalist in hiding, wasn't a target, wasn't surrounded by women hired to protect me.
I was simply lost in a world where love conquered all, where even in darkness, two souls could find each other.
A shadow darkened the doorway, and I barely had time to register Ellie's presence before the room plunged into darkness. The light switch clicked under her fingers.
"Sabine." Her voice was tight, professional. "You realize you're sitting in what's essentially a display case, right? Glass walls, interior light, pitch black outside?"
My book slipped from my fingers. "I didn't think—"
"Kara just radioed me from the tree line." Ellie moved toward me, a silhouette against deeper shadows. "She could see every page you turned, every move you made."
I felt her proximity before I saw her, the air between us charged with something beyond professional concern. Her hand found my elbow in the darkness, warm through the thin fabric of my sleeve.
"Anyone could have," she added, softer now. "You shouldn't be in here."
She helped me to my feet, her grip firm but gentle. I stood, suddenly aware of how close we were, her breath warm against my cheek. For a heartbeat, neither of us moved away.
I turned my head, finding Ellie's mouth with mine. The kiss was tentative for only a heartbeat before she took control, her hand sliding to the nape of my neck, fingers threading through my hair. She tasted like the wine we'd had with dinner, rich and heady.
The humid air of the solarium pressed against my skin as Ellie sank to her knees before me, her movements deliberate and confident. Her eyes never left mine as her fingers worked the button of my jeans, then the zipper. The sound seemed impossibly loud in the quiet room.
She tugged my jeans down, taking my panties with them. The cool air against my exposed skin made me shiver.
Her hands slid up my thighs, spreading them wider. I gripped her shoulders, heart racing as her fingers traced patterns on my sensitive skin, moving higher with each pass.
When she finally traced her fingers across my slit, I gasped. Her eyes locked with mine, intense and focused, watching every reaction as her fingers moved with practiced precision. I couldn't look away, captivated by the power in her gaze, the control in her touch.
"You're beautiful," she murmured, her voice low and reverent as she worked me toward the edge, reading my body like a map she'd memorized.
She leaned forward. her tongue finding my clit with devastating precision.
I gasped, gripping her shoulders, trying desperately to stay balanced and upright.
Ellie hummed against my sex, the vibration sending shockwaves through my core.
Her tongue traced patterns, each stroke calculated for maximum effect.
"God," I breathed, my head falling back.
She gripped my thighs, keeping me upright as my knees threatened to buckle. The wet heat of her mouth was relentless, her technique flawless. She knew exactly when to increase pressure, when to ease back, when to focus on that perfect spot that made my vision blur.
I looked down, watching her work between my legs. The sight of her—so controlled, so focused—pushed me closer to the edge. Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, and the intensity in them stole my breath.
"I'm going to—" I couldn't finish the sentence as pleasure crashed through me. My fingers tangled in her hair, holding her against me as I rode out the waves.
When I could think again, I tugged gently at her shoulders. "Come here. Let me touch you."
Ellie rose to her feet in one fluid motion, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "No."
"But I want to—"
"This isn't about what you want." Her voice was soft but firm as she straightened my clothes with practiced efficiency. "This is about what you need."
I reached for the button of her pants, but she caught my wrist, her grip gentle but unyielding.
"Not tonight." She pressed a kiss to my palm before releasing it. "Some other time, maybe."
The promise hung between us, tantalizing and uncertain.
I fumbled with my clothes in the dark, my fingers still trembling as I pulled up my underwear and jeans. The button slipped through my fingers twice before I managed to fasten it.
"Who was on the phone to Alex?" I asked, trying to sound casual while my heart still raced from what had just happened between us.
Ellie took a step back, creating space where moments ago there had been none. Her silhouette shifted against the darkness as she shrugged. "None of our business until Alex decides to tell us."
"You looked worried," I pressed, reaching out to touch her arm. The cotton of her sleeve felt cool under my fingertips, a stark contrast to the heat of her skin minutes earlier.
She moved just slightly, not enough to break contact but enough to make it clear the moment had passed. When she spoke, her voice had returned to that professional tone I'd grown to recognize.
"I'm not worried," she said, each word precise and measured. "And it's not your job to worry about whether I'm worried."
The air between us cooled rapidly. I could almost feel the walls rebuilding brick by brick.
"My job is to keep you alive," she continued. "Your job is to stay alive."
She gestured toward the glass walls surrounding us, now just black mirrors reflecting our shadowy forms. "Not sitting in a glass room with the light on at night would make both of our jobs easier."
I nodded, though I wasn't sure she could see it. "I understand."
"Good." She moved toward the door, her footsteps nearly silent on the tile floor. "We should get back."
I followed her, acutely aware of the distance between us now. Three feet of empty space that might as well have been miles. Yet something lingered in that space—the ghost of her touch, the echo of her breath against my skin, the memory of her tongue.
She paused at the doorway, turning back toward me. For a moment, I thought she might say something more, might acknowledge what had passed between us. But she simply held the door, waiting for me to pass through first.
Professional. Proper. As though she hadn't been on her knees before me minutes ago.
I walked past her, close enough to catch the scent of me on her lips.
Ellie and I walked through the great room and down the long hallway. As we approached the foyer, I heard voices drifting from the living room. Alex's voice rose above the others, tight with an emotion I couldn't immediately place.
"I don’t understand," she was saying. "What the fuck were they thinking?”
Ellie slowed her pace, cocking her head slightly. Her hand brushed against mine, a fleeting touch that might have been accidental if not for the way her pinky finger hooked around mine for just a second.
"Something's wrong," she murmured, so quietly I almost missed it.