Alex half smiled. “Unworthy of heaven, but forbidden entry to hell lest they should make the damned feel superior?”

She smiled at him and nodded. “No moral cowards in your lot, Alex. They’d rather stand up and be counted; and you’re no different. And anyhow, can we just wish them away, these people of Calvin’s?” She looked at him, but it was a question not really asking for an answer. “What does he say about this latest development?” Her voice was bitter when she pronounced the last word.

“He’s nowhere to be found tonight. Siân doesn’t know where he is.”

Lucy frowned, before posing her question. “Alex, shall I take your cell tomorrow? I can answer the call whatever time it comes. I’m not living with medical emergencies all around me. Let me arrange the handover. I’ve met them. I’m truly not afraid.”

“No?” He tried to smile, and Lucy responded in kind to rally him. Her heroically calm Alex was a humanly wounded man tonight, because they’d struck at someone he loved. This was a shadow of Alex.

“Of bullies? No. I grew up with one. My grandmother was probably the reason my mother left. She’s scarier than any Rapturist.” His response was near to laughter, and she smiled. “The only thing I’m terrified of is depending on another person to make me happy—or surrendering myself to passion.”

He laced his fingers in her hair, borrowing a little of her strength. “Still?”

She nodded slowly. It was only three nights since she’d walked the labyrinth alone in Chartres, while Alex was here with Max. A lifetime of pent-up emotion had started to burst free during their weekend, changing the climate for them both. A short time ago, nothing had meant anything; but now, suddenly, everything meant something. For months the magnetism between them had made it difficult to think of anything other than having Alex. Now, she’d have to conquer a lifetime’s addiction to shutting out her strong feelings. But Alex read her fears and refused to let her slip backward. He gave himself completely to her now and kissed her, changing the nature of the tension.

“Stay…” he said.

“I can’t,” she said. She breathed hard, shook her head to persuade herself. “It’s inappropriate. You’ll be checking your son every hour.”

He agreed.

“But, tomorrow?”

Alex nodded; then hesitated. “I’m lecturing at six.” He was still bringing his own desire under control. “Supper later?”

It was settled, and with enormous effort she stood to go. She pointed to a packet on the kitchen counter. “I’ve made two sets of prints. Have a glance at the new documents, if you feel inclined. More labyrinthine riddles.” She smiled ruefully, recognizing he was so close to losing heart for the chase. Was he right to think of letting it go? It was certainly becoming dangerous.