The Liberation of Alice Love(62)
Author: Abby McDonald

Alice nodded slowly. She didn’t like to think of Nathan hunting down that Safe Haven money, but after his talk about rules and regulations, now probably wasn’t the time to ask him to leave it be.

“And you shouldn’t be chasing after her either,” Nathan added, a warning note to his voice. “You’ve seen what can happen when you get tangled up in someone else’s fraud, and that’s only the start of it.”

“I know,” Alice answered, trying to sound agreeable. Yes, she did know what could happen: she could discover the information she craved. “Still, you got to polish up that rusty armor of yours.”

Nathan grinned. “Yeah, thanks for that.”

“My pleasure.”

***

Although it was only two a.m. by the time the taxi deposited her outside Flora’s house later that night, Alice felt as if she’d crossed great continents in her quest. Part of her was still disbelieving, as if the weekend had been simply an idle fantasy her mind had conjured while she sat in the garden, reading the newspapers, perhaps, before finishing up some outstanding contracts and meeting Jules for a drink. That was her usual territory, Alice knew, but even though the familiar Hampstead streets were dark and drizzling as if she’d never been away, she still felt wrapped in warm, golden light of Italy and that sense of freedom.

Nathan climbed out the other side and pulled her suitcase from the trunk. He looked exhausted and unkempt now, having snatched even less sleep than Alice in the past few days. “You got everything?”

She nodded. The excitement of her search was ebbing away, and now every part of her seemed heavy and dull. “Thanks. And you’ll tell me—?”

“The minute anything about Kate turns up.” Nathan managed a curved smile. “I’ll start running her through some databases first thing: police records, credit agencies, all the rest.”

Alice yawned. “OK.”

“You want me to walk you up?” Nathan nodded toward the door, hair falling into his eyes.

“No, I’m good. You go get some sleep.”

“Oh, I will.” Nathan looked wistful. “I have a breakfast meeting. Remind me to ruin the man who invented those.”

“Will do.” Alice mustered a tired smile.

There was a pause. She glanced up, meeting his eyes for a moment. In the light from the taxi, they were warm, and Alice felt a sudden rush of affection. He hadn’t been obliged to come running from Switzerland or help on her determined expedition to Amalfi, but he’d done it all, with grace and—mostly—good humor.

Impulsively, she reached up and hugged him—a swift, strong embrace that surprised them both. “Thanks for everything,” Alice whispered, her cheek against his stubble. Nathan’s arms closed slowly around her and they stood for a moment, pressed against each other, closer than they’d ever been.

“Anytime.”

There was something intimate about standing there in the dark, and his murmured reply, that made Alice flush and quickly disentangle herself. The sun-baked terraces of Positano were an ocean away. They were home now.

“So. I’ll…see you.” She grabbed for her case, almost tripping on the curb in her haste. The night before, she’d been coolly stripping in a stranger’s bedroom, and now she felt utterly thrown by a single embrace. Alice backed away. “I mean, of course I will.” She exhaled, embarrassed. “I need some sleep, clearly.”

 “Take care.”

She turned and hurried toward the house, forcing herself not to look back, not until she heard the engine of the taxi again and could watch it disappear, out of sight, around the corner.

The adventure, it seemed, was over.

Chapter Twenty-two

Flora was asleep when Alice let herself in—curled on the sofa with the television on, waiting up for her, perhaps. Alice covered her in a blanket and slouched up to her room, relieved at least, that her stepsister’s wide-eyed inquisition would wait until after she’d had some sleep. The next morning, however, her respite seemed altogether too brief.

“Ohmygod, you’re back!”

Alice barely had time to struggle awake before she was smothered with Flora’s panicked affection. “Are you OK? Did they hurt you?” she bounced onto the bed, gripping Alice fiercely as she searched for signs of abuse. “God, I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through! What do you need—tea? Breakfast? Did you eat on the plane?”

“I’m fine,” Alice protested tiredly, as she squinted at her bedside clock. Eight a.m. Oh, too soon. “Really, I just needed some sleep.”

“You poor thing.” Flora ignored her, producing her homeopathic medicine box. Reaching for the first bottle, she shook several tiny white balls into the cap. “Here, open your mouth. This should soothe your nerves.”

Alice thought perhaps that she wasn’t the one in need of soothing, but she stuck her tongue out obediently nonetheless.

“Take them every hour until you feel better.” Flora pressed the bottle into her hand. “Now tell me every—Oh! The tea!” She bounced back off the bed. “I found your favorite chamomile brand, or do you want something else? Because I could—”

“Flora!” Alice pulled herself out of bed. She felt disorientated—almost jet-lagged—but of course, there had only been a tiny time difference involved, however far the theoretical distance between those polished bedrooms in Rome and her own rumpled sheets. “I’m all right, really.”

“But everything that happened!” Flora edged closer, staring at Alice in distress. “I don’t understand how they could do something like that.”

“It was just a mix-up,” Alice reassured her, pulling on her dressing gown. “And the police were fine: scary, but professional. It wasn’t as if I were stranded in North Korea or anything. Now, how about that tea?”

She made her way downstairs, slipping free from the hazy blanket of sleep. She could have used another eight hours of blissful rest, but the world—and the Grayson Wells Agency—was waiting, regardless. Flora followed her closely, still no doubt alert for signs of posttraumatic shock. “Well, if you’re sure…”

“I am,” Alice insisted. “Really, all I needed was sleep. I’ll be fine for work today…” She walked into the kitchen, bright with early-morning sun. There were fresh raspberries in the fruit bowl, and, mmm, peaches too. Alice selected some and found herself a bowl. “Is Stefan back yet?”