Nickolas stared into Cassandra's silhouette in the darkness. He could barely make out the look of determination she was wearing. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Keep watch." He growled at Julian.

Before a response could be formed, he grabbed Cassandra's arm and pulled her up he alleyway. She followed him stumblingly, and he thought he heard her ask something, but he didn't care. He needed to see her face when they had this conversation.

"You're not doing it." He pulled her into a corner dimly lit by a street lamp. She opened her mouth to respond. "No." He said before she could speak.

"I beg your pardon?" She raised her brows.

"You heard me." He growled.

"You seem to be forgetting that I'm not a child, Nickolas, and you are not my parent." She snapped.

"Yeah, well that doesn't change the fact that I have to look after you in this whole mess." His grip tightened on her arm. "It's up to me to make sure you get back home safely, and I'm not about to let you get yourself into trouble now."

She winced, and he realized his grip must be hurting her. He flung her arm out of his grasp, pulling back as if he'd been bit.

"Look, Cassandra, you have no idea what this is. You're getting mixed up in something that doesn't involve you." Well, that wasn't true, but maybe it would convince her to change her mind. "It's too dangerous, and I'm not going to let you do it. You can't—w-what are you doing?"

In the dim light, he could easily make out Cassandra's delicate fingers undoing the front laces of her bodice. The pale, creamy flesh that she exposed with careful precision drew his attention, and he struggled to look away. Clearing his throat, he averted his eyes with some difficulty.

"I have to look the part." She said, combing her fingers through her hair. "Maybe I'm not the best person for this, and maybe you don't want me to get involved, but Nickolas, I'm in this whether you like it or not. We both know I'm going to be better at this than Julian, and we can't afford to fail. Any chance at being on upper ground—even level ground—is something we have to grab."

She tugged at the neck of her gown, exposing her shoulders. She was going to do this. It didn't matter what he said: he wasn't going to change her mind.

The thought of another man touching her, caressing her, entered Nickolas's mind. Uncontrollable rage threatened to boil over within him, and he ground his teeth together. Cassandra looked up at him, finished with her ministrations, and seeing her bright eyes almost made him explode. There was nothing he could do to stop her, he knew.

"Look here," he took hold of her shoulders. "Don't you give him any more than you need to." He ground out. "I'm going to be waiting right outside, and if you sense anything that's even the slightest bit off, you call for me. I don't care how close you are to getting something from him—you call for me; are we clear? None of us are worth risking your life, Cassandra, not a single one."

She looked up at him, her eyes wide, her lips parted. His grip relaxed slightly, and one of her hands closed over his upper arm, her fingers brushing against a patch of bare skin. He leaned a fraction of an inch closer, and his thumb rubbed over her collar bone.

He hadn't realized before how close they actually were, but now, every sense was aware of her. She seemed to be calling him, and he didn't care what was going on outside of their little circle anymore. England could have crumbled to her knees, and he wouldn't have noticed. All he could think about was her lips and how much he wanted to kiss her.

"Come on! We've got to get moving!" Julian's voice startled both of them. "We don't have time to waste." Nickolas released Cassandra immediately.

In the dark, Cassandra drew a breath, straightening her shoulders. She reminded him of those nights they'd dined together in Fergus Manor. He hadn't wanted to let her—he'd even resisted it as well as he could—but she had captivated his attention even then. He was reminded of the intense struggle it had been not to watch her every move as she pulled her hair over her shoulder.

She didn't look up at him as she stepped away. Unable to stop himself, he reached out and took hold of her hand. She turned and looked at him over her shoulder.

"Remember what I said. Don't hesitate." He held her gaze firmly.

He felt her move a fraction toward him, and her lips parted. She didn't look as if she was going to say something. For a moment, he could've forgotten the situation they were in. There was something in her eyes, something that glinted for half a second and then disappeared, and she pulled away from him, drawing a shaky breath.

She turned and walked away, her back straight and firm. She didn't look back, but Graham couldn't take his eyes off her. Even after she had disappeared into the shadows with Julian, he stared at where she'd been.

He cursed, rubbing his eyes. He was a fool, an ill-bred, godless fool. He told himself to snap out of it, but his mind was no longer in control of his heart. The erratic pounding and sharp pain inside his chest attempted to propel his feet into action as his blood pumped wildly through his veins.

He had felt passion before. Heaven only knew how many times he'd held women for the sake of his job, but this was somehow different. And he knew why. He'd seen it happen to multiple colleagues, and he had assisted in their demise when the inevitable happened: at some point their love became more important than their job, and Granger had no further use for them.

Trying to shut down the feelings broiling inside him, he headed back to the pub. As he walked, he tried to clear his mind. They were going to need every opportunity at getting the upper hand, and he couldn't afford to be anything but his best.

Someone was going to have to be inside the pub to sound the alarm if Granger showed up, and they were going to need somebody in the back alley in case the chancellor's assistant wasn't convinced by a honeyed trap and decided to make a break for it. He would be the best option to be inside, obviously. It wasn't because he wanted to make sure no one laid a finger on Cassandra, he told himself. He just had the most training and expertise to break said finger should it happen to touch her. . .

Shaking his head, he strode purposefully toward the side door of the pub, assuming a nonchalant air. He was nothing more than a common man out for a drink in the local pub now. He had practiced being hidden in pleasant sight for years; it would be no different this time.

"Where do you think you're going?" Julian's voice stopped him as he reached for the door.

"We need someone to keep an eye on things on the inside. Granger is likely on his way here, and if he shows up, we're going to have to run like hell." Nickolas said without turning.

"You're right, but we also need someone in the alley." Julian said.

"Good job. It looks like you finally passed your con training." Nickolas's voice was threaded with sarcasm, and he began to open the door.

She struck his hand away. "I'm going to be inside." Her voice was low and even. "I've already taken Cassandra in, so you need to hurry and get in position."

"Excuse you?" Nickolas raised a dangerous brow.

"You're too close to this one, Nickolas. I saw you two earlier, and I can't trust that you won't botch this whole thing by beating the living daylights out of our target before we have a chance to get any information out of him if he starts getting a little physical." Julian pushed herself between him and the door. "Besides, I'm smaller than you, so I can conceal myself in a corner to watch them."

"No." Nickolas growled. "That's not how this is going to work."

"You don't have a choice. I'm not strong enough to stop someone from barreling out that door, and you're not strong enough to keep your hands off our man." Julian had always been terrible at lying. She could have stopped a man three times her size before he even knew what hit him.

Nickolas didn't want to believe it. He didn't want to hear what she was saying, but he knew she was right. He didn't have the mental faculties to remain cool and logical right now. Not where Cassandra was involved.

"Keep me updated on what's going on." He growled, walking away before Julian had the chance to respond.

Passing a stack of firewood on his way, he grabbed a stick and began toying with it. Every sense was on high alert for any sign that he was needed, but he couldn't seem to keep his hands still. With Julian watching over her, Cassandra would be safe, but he couldn't keep the knots from forming in his stomach.

A part of him was bone weary of all this. He wished for a day, just one day, where he could lay back and not have to worry about anything. He could ride with Cassandra without having to be on a constant lookout for someone who intended to harm them. He could sit with her and tease her and even be silent with her.

He realized suddenly that all his thoughts for the future involved Cassandra. Tossing aside the stick, Nickolas cursed violently, slamming a hand into the brick wall. This wasn't like him at all. He could usually be so cool and detached, no matter the consequences. But there was nothing usual about this time. Nothing usual about Cassandra.

He told himself, in the most colorful language he could think of, what a fool he was and pressed his forehead against the wall as if it would give him some clarity. It had been a long time since he'd believed in anything he couldn't see or feel, but at the moment, he wanted nothing more than to ask whatever cruel sovereign in the sky why. Why did his heart pound so violently thinking about her? Why did he have to work so hard to keep his hardened image from slipping out of place when he was in her company? If he was honest with himself, the whole time he'd spent with her had been nothing more than an exercise of his self control.

It would have been easier if he'd never met her, never laid eyes on her that night in Fergus Manor. His mouth ran dry thinking about their time together. It seemed almost as though she'd been crafted perfectly to make him fall for her. Everything about her was so impeccably fitted to him.

Thinking about it, he cursed again. He'd been doomed to fall for her the moment he'd laid eyes on her, and he was only fooling himself by saying anything differently. Even now, thinking about her inside with another man's grubby, little paws all over her made his blood boil.

He'd seen her flinch away from several men's touch, fear threatening to crush her beautiful spirit, and every time it'd happened, he'd wanted nothing more than to crush the skull of her assailant. She should never have had to experience anything like that.

Nickolas felt the familiar rage boiling within him, and almost surprisingly, there was fierce protectiveness that rose in his throat like bile. He wasn't usually the sort to think more of women than was absolutely necessary, but this one. . .well, he didn't know how to explain it, because he didn't even understand it.

He gritted his teeth, drawing a deep breath. He needed to focus. This wasn't helping anything, and if the mission was botched because of his stupidity, he would never be able to forgive himself. Failing the mission could mean Cassandra's death.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there, absorbed in his thoughts. Even as a light drizzle began to fall, he stood there, paying the weather patterns no mind. And then the door opened.

Nickolas crouched slightly, preparing for anything. A small figure stumbled outside, letting the door slam shut. It leaned against the wall, and Nickolas narrowed his eyes.

"They've gone to one of the upper rooms." Julian's voice whispered.

The words jarred through Nickolas's senses. "You just let him take her up there? Damn it, Julian, do you know what manner of man he is?" He was immediately alert.

"Going soft?" Julian asked wryly.

Nickolas's hand closed on her throat before the words had fully left her mouth. Julian choked, gasping for breath.

"Does it feel like I'm going soft? Don't play with me, Julian. Don't ever think you're capable of that." He flung her away from him, and she coughed and gasped for breath for a long moment.

"It's funny. For a moment, I thought you might have changed, and I knew we were doomed. You don't have time to care, not for anyone." Her voice was hoarse, and she leaned against the wall.

The words rang in his brain, and he knew she spoke the truth. Someone would always be after him. He'd been fooling himself by thinking he could even have one day without the threat of death breathing down his neck. There could be no place in his life for love. It would be snatched from him, so the best thing was to forget that he'd ever felt anything at all.

"This is the way things are now, Nickolas. The minute we signed our names, we doomed ourselves." Julian was silent for a long moment. "You know, we used to be a good team. The best, in fact. We could be that again." Her voice was small and vulnerable, and she reached out as though to take his hand.

"I think we both remember how that ended, Julian. You're right: we were good while it lasted." Nickolas sighed, wishing she hadn't brought up his past memories like so much dirty laundry that needed to be aired.

"I could change, Nickolas. Please, give me a chance. I know I can make you happy." She was never real with anyone but him, never gentle.

He laughed through his nose. "No, Julian, you couldn't change and neither could I. We aren't wired to love, and when you try to throw us together, you're only asking for disaster."

"You're right I suppose." Her voice was disappointed.

She said something else, but he was deaf to the sound of her voice. All his senses reared up inside him. Something wasn't right.

There was a light thud and a whimper, but he didn't wait to hear anything else. Pushing past Julian, he tore into the pub. Lowlifes crowded around the tables, and the noises they were making combined to an almost deafening pitch.

"Which room did he take her to?" Nickolas shouted over his shoulder, knowing Julian was behind him.

"Top of the stairs to your left. What's going on?" She called.

He didn't wait to hear anything else. Elbowing his way through the crowd, he leapt up the stairs two at a time. He didn't stop to think before throwing his full weight against the door Julian had indicated.

The door had not been well crafted and fell open easily to reveal an empty room. There were signs of a struggle: furniture tipped over and broken bottles. No one was there. They'd taken Cassandra.

———–––———–––————

Gah! They just can't catch a break, can they? What do you think tipped off the Chancellor's assistant that he was in trouble? Why did he take Cassandra? Did he actually take her, or is someone else getting involved?

I'm trying to decide whether the next chapter should be from Cassandra or Nickolas's POV. . .I have stuff that I could do for both of them, but I can't decide which would flow better in the story. . .What do you think? What are you looking forward to hearing/reading the most in this story?