She was falling for him.
Which was crazy. It had been such a short time. Her life was in shambles. How could this be happening to her?
But she couldn’t help it. Gods, she was an idiot.
And they were screwed. Ian was going to be thrown back in prison. Last night, the university council members had been clear on that. They had the power to ensure it.
The university played with them like puppets. And it pissed her off.
She shoved on her shoes and went to the closet. She rifled through the clothes, squinting into the dark. Near the back she found an old turtleneck sweater. She pulled the black wool out and eyed it.
It should be big enough. Her brother had left it here ages ago, but he was nearly as big as Ian.
“What’s that?”
Fiona turned to see Ian, dressed and re
ady to go.
She held out the sweater. “This is for you.”
“Thanks.” Confusion edged his voice. “You doona like my clothes? I doona blame you. They’re glorified prison attire.”
“That’s no’ it. None cover your neck.”
Surprise flashed across his features and he raised his hand to his neck.
Bracing herself to break a damn big rule and possibly throw this whole thing in the toilet, she thrust the sweater into his hands. “Wear the sweater so that no one else knows the collar is gone.”
His eyes flashed to hers, shock in their bright depths. “You’d really take it off?”
“If you promise no’ to run until we find the book. I need your help.”
“You could lose your job if you let me escape. That’s what you’ve worked so hard for all these years.”
The idea carved out a hollow place in her chest, but she realized that it wasn’t nearly as big as the hole that would be left if he had to go back to prison.
“The most important thing is saving my sanity. Let me worry about my job. I thought I wanted it more than anything except my sanity, but if they’re all going to be such assholes, maybe I was wrong.” She raised her hands to his neck, snapped the collar in half, and drew it away. “When this is over, you’ll run for it. If you stay in Scotland, they’ll find you. You can never come back.” The idea of never seeing him again plunged an icicle through her chest.
She turned from him, intent on heading to the bathroom. She couldn’t look at him now, not knowing whether this was going to be over before it started. At best, he’d leave Scotland and never return. At worst, he’d be thrown back in prison. Or get killed.
“Wait.” His hand closed around her arm and he spun her around. “It’s no’—”
She threw herself into his arms and kissed him, the stress and fear of what she would lose propelling her to take one last grasp at it before it was all over.
He dropped the sweater, a groan rumbling out of his chest as he kissed her back. His mouth was hot and hard on hers, his hands everywhere.
She tore her mouth from his. “We need to go.”
“When this is all over, I’m running. I’ll be at the Keane Hotel in Inverness in two days if you want to see me again. Then I’ll have to leave Scotland.”
Fiona’s throat burned. This was goodbye. She could see him at the Keane, a Mythean hotel and pub that protected all those within its walls from harm—even if they were criminals—but then he’d have to flee.
“I’ll be there.” The words felt like rocks in her throat.
He kissed her hard, then turned and pulled on the sweater.
After kissing Fluffy Black on the head to say goodbye, she followed Ian out the door of her house. She assumed she was coming back, but going up against gods would be insanely dangerous. If Carthe had more on his side…