“Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.”
Roald Dahl
Anna handed me the extra helmet she carried in the pannier, and when I was seated on the back of her bike with my arms wrapped around her waist and her body pressed against mine, she turned her head to look back at me. “Where to?”
“Your place,” I said instinctively. She searched my eyes for the briefest moment, then pulled her helmet on, started the bike, and drove.
It wasn’t far to her place from the café, but it was long enough for my brain to spin. My reason had clearly fled with the need to keep Anna free from Gray’s traps – hence the manufactured file update with Shane – but now that she knew the dangers, there was no way she would risk her freedom, so I could breathe again. Except my self-control was shattering with every moment I spent pressed against her as she sped through Chicago.
We parked behind the sprawling Victorian loft complex, and I followed Anna up the steps. She continued past her own studio to a private roof garden where potted herbs shared the sunlight with a couple of lounge chairs and a small table.
Anna stood in the sun and put her face up to the heat with closed eyes and a smile. “I love the first days of spring. It feels like the sun is elbowing its way through all the cold and gray saying, ‘Okay, that’s enough tough love. They’ve proven they can survive, now let’s give people a reason to live.’” She opened her eyes and looked over at a tree that reached nearly to the roof. “It’s also the time when the Minpins start to emerge from their homes in the tree to send their little ones out on the backs of the starlings to learn to fly.” She turned to me. “Did you know there are only two Minpin trees in Chicago, and we have one of them?”
I kissed her then, for her Roald Dahl reference and for being free to spout every bit of nonsense that inspired her. Anna’s surprise melted into heat and desire and scent and sound, and the only thing I felt was everything that was her – the whisper of her breath, the touch of her hands as they reached up my back, the scent of wildflowers in her hair, the feeling of her lips tasting, sipping, caressing mine. She fit against me perfectly.
Then she pulled back to look at me. “Why?”
Why kiss her? Because she was the flower to my hummingbird, the island to my storm-tossed ship, and because she was air to a suffocating man.
“Why did you help me?” she repeated.
“Because Gray would’ve trapped you, and you’re meant to be free.”
She studied my face. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“The firm has lawyers, Anna. We can figure out how to help your sister if Gray releases the video.”
She pulled back even further, and then out of my arms entirely. “He won’t release the video when I’ve put the painting back. He’ll still have no proof Colette was involved, or at the very least he’ll know she wasn’t working alone, so he won’t risk the information about the Manet getting out. It’ll be like nuclear arms – no one strikes because we all know we have them.”
When she put the painting back, not if. “You’re still going to do this.” It wasn’t phrased as a question because it wasn’t one. I knew – as soon as she said the words, I knew my compromise was for nothing. It didn’t matter how impossible or dangerous it was, Anna would do what she was going to do, regardless of the cost to her, to her sister and family, or to me.
Understanding seemed to dawn on her face, and she took another step back. “You thought I wouldn’t? You put your job and your integrity on the line to stop me from making another mistake.” Her hands went up as though to ward me away, and I expected an eruption of anger. What I got was something completely different.
“Oh Darius, I’m so sorry.”
I couldn’t process what that meant. “You’re sorry?”
“What you believe in is so important to you, and I’m just not worth the damage to your integrity or your identity.”
She turned away. “Don’t ever sell out.” Her voice broke, and I could hear the tears in it. “You’re too good, and I’ll only take you down.”
“Anna,” I began, wishing I could go back to kissing on the roof deck.
“I’ll take you back to work,” she said without meeting my eyes.
“I’ll call a car,” I said dully. I stopped in front of her and lifted her chin so she’d look me in the eyes. “I couldn’t bear it if they catch you.”
She closed her eyes. “I know.” Then she opened them again. “That’s why you should go.”