“No. I want to get this over with.” She pressed her hands to her stomach, where a knot formed. “I want this to be over so we can go home.”

She turned in his arms. “Tell me again about the place you bought?”

“It’s on the lake, not far from Jethro’s place. A timber home with a wide deck and a gourmet kitchen, two story living room with a giant-stone fireplace, and a master bedroom that overlooks the cascade mountains.”

“And extra bedroom for children?”

“Lots of them.” He kissed her, sweetly, but she lingered, tasting him, letting the whole of him sweep through her, settle.

Oh, she loved this man. Loved his view of their life.

Longed for it with everything inside her.

She broke away. “Okay, 007. Take me to a ball.”

He held out his arm, and she slipped into her golden shoes. “I hope I don’t have to run anywhere.”

“Me too.” He picked up their masks. Hers, with the peacock feather, the gold lace and sequins. His—and Director Grey’s—was a simple black silk.

The rain had stopped, the air fresh and clean, the afternoon sun having baked off the water. They joined Logan, Roy and Ziggy—dressed in a black gown, a slit up one side, the skirt slightly flared to hide her ankle holster—and got into a limo provided by Gunner.

Director Grey and his security team were already inside. Marcus and Duncan, both dressed in tuxes, holding their own masks. One would stay with Grey, the other would accompany York.

Grey handed her a transparent earwig. She pressed it into her ear. York did the same.

“We’ll turn it on after you get through security,” he said.

See. They’d be just fine. And sure, all this security made it harder for anyone to hurt Grey, but frankly, she’d like to be very, very wrong about Grey being a target.

Grey, being York, of course.

The castle courtyard was already full of guests when they arrived, showed their invitations, went through security—or at least the pretense of it. Otis, one of Crown Prince John’s men, personally approved them and then they were inside.

York, however, had gone with Otis, donning the uniform of the royal guard, and heading into the castle through a servant’s door.

She already missed him.

But Director Grey held out his arm, and RJ looped her gloved hand around his crooked elbow.

“You look beautiful,” he said. “And, thank you.”

“Glad to do my part.”

“Your country—and I—are grateful.”

Huh. But it was like York said. She was here to protect the people around her. Still, a little patriotic pride swelled inside her as they entered the receiving line.