“That should work for me.”
“Sawyer? Will you lie with me in my bed tonight?”
“I was going to ask you the same.”
Her smile just brightened the room. “Then I could put the laundry I folded—yours—in my room?”
“That’d be nice.”
But she should have more than just sex, he thought. Because however fatalistic, Doyle had it right. When beauty fell into your hand, you held on to it.
And in Sawyer’s mind, you cherished it.
“Maybe we could take a walk around the gardens after dinner.”
“That would be nice, too. I like to walk with you, and have you hold my hand like Bran holds Sasha’s.”
But over dinner, Riley suggested moving up the timetable.
“We head over to Malmon’s villa, scope it out. We need to make sure it’s empty. He could’ve sent staff or soldiers ahead, or arranged for locals to stock it up for him.”
“That’s why we decided to go in after midnight,” Doyle reminded her.
“It’s after eight now, and a good thirty-minu
te hike. We need to case it, find any exterior security, deal with it. After Sawyer pops us in, we may have more security to deal with. Then we have to find the three most logical locations for the bugs.”
“Why wait?” Sawyer had to side with her. “Y’all mostly decided on the time to give me a chance to finish the bugs. They’re done, so let’s move it up.”
“And if there is someone in residence?” Sasha asked.
“We’ll figure it out.” Considering that, Riley switched wine for water. “It’s a hell of a lot easier to figure out on-site than it is to speculate.”
“There’s a point,” Bran agreed. “So should we say we’ll leave here at nine then?”
It wasn’t the romantic garden walk Sawyer had envisioned, but he calculated every step took them closer to resolution. If they could eavesdrop on any of Malmon’s plans, they could foil them, maybe turn them back on him.
And if they beat him badly enough, what use would he be to Nerezza? Whatever punishment she might mete out for failure, he’d earned.
“We’re closer to the sea,” Annika told him. “More above it, but closer.”
“He’d want a good view.”
They came to a wall.
“Other side of this,” Riley told them. “The gate should be up ahead. It’ll be locked. Smarter to go over the wall anyway.”
“Let me check it out.”
Sawyer moved ahead, came to the gate—iron, elaborate, arched, and secured with an electronic lock. Behind it he made out a pebbled road wide enough for a vehicle, and shielding trees, bushes. But no cameras.
As he walked back, he scanned the area. More homes, but he saw no one on the road, no one in a window.
“I didn’t see an alarm or cameras, but if we tried the gate, it might set something off. I can get us on the other side.”
“I’ve got mine.” Bran put an arm around Sasha’s waist, floated up with her, over, and down.
“Never gets old,” Sawyer commented. “Okay team, huddle up. Quick trip.”