I crane an eyebrow. “Like our agent friend gives you? He’s so well behaved, isn’t he?”
I can almost feel her hackles raise. “You’re being hostile,” she accuses.
“I’m bored, London. There’s a difference.” I sit in the chair. “I bet you have some extra chains and cuffs around here.”
She moves closer. “You trust me that much? To shackle you…to take away your ability to escape?”
“I trust your reasoning to do so, if it came to that.”
The room grows quiet with the heavy pause. London runs her palms down her skirt, working out imaginary creases. “You’d pick the lock, regardless,” she says. “Where did you learn that talent, anyway?”
I gift her a smile, avoiding her question just the same. “You felt more in control when I was locked up. Maybe that’s the spark that’s missing. Don’t you feel it lately? Like something is amiss?”
“Are you jealous of Agent Nelson?” she asks outright, shifting the topic. No dancing around a matter when her professional mask is in place.
“He’s a man obsessed,” I say. “I can’t be jealous. I empathize… No, that’s wrong. I pity him.”
Nothing compares to the ecstasy I feel with London. If I’m being honest, this is a poor attempt to fill the well. Once you ascend so high, the plummet afterward leaves a gaping hole, the addiction that much harder to feed.
I understand Nelson’s urges all too well. The driving need to see her…hear her voice…plot the moment they’ll meet. I really do pity him.
The seething look London sends me ignites my skin.
“His mind is probably a chew toy by now.” I rub my palms along the leather arms of the chair, enjoying the freedom I never experienced here before.
“I wouldn’t know,” she says, drawing my attention up to her. “I’m not evaluating him.”
My brows crease. “You’re such a fucking paradox.”
“I’m not playing mind games with you, Grayson.”
“And yet, you’re dying to know.”
A battle of wills arcs between us. She yields first. “All right. Tell me why, then.”
“Because of your desire to embrace Lydia.” I can be pointblank, too. “To be this better version that you believe was stolen away. Don’t deny it. You forget that I know you.”
Her walls erect. She’s shielding Lydia from London’s world, which means hiding this part of herself from me.
Dangerous.
Her word. I pose a threat to this fragile part of her that she desperately wants to protect. The way she couldn’t protect her or her sister. Psychology is a nasty little twist.
“I’m not embracing anything,” she finally says. “Lydia Prescott would not be here right now. She wouldn’t be with you. Clearly, I am.”
I study her closely. How much of a threat does Lydia pose to us? “I think I could seduce Lydia,” I say.
“How very cocky of you.” London shakes her head. “Is that a challenge?”
“You know how much I enjoy a challenge.”
She searches her suit pocket for her string. “I won’t let you turn this into a sordid game,” she says, wrapping the black thread around her finger.
“It’s not a game to me.” I sit forward. “Who else are you going to confide in?”
Something sparks in her eyes as she looks at me. “You want to…what? Analyze me? Work through my feelings?”
I nod to the chair across from me. Her chair.