Free Love Like Blood: (Royal Blood #5) by Amity Cross Page A

Lorelei and I once had.
    “For me?” She stepped forward, her boots crunching on the graveled driveway.
    I smiled, captivated by her uncharacteristic sense of wonder. “Merry Christmas, Lorelei.”
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    W e’d been at the cottage by the sea for a month.
    The haven that I’d built for her, for us .
    Lorelei stood by the cliff’s edge like she was perched on the edge of the world. If the earth were flat, then this would be the end of it all. The drop below would keep going down for forever and ever into the unknown.
    Her dress fluttered in the breeze, the pale purple material whipping around her long, toned legs. If I stood here and forgot what our lives had turned into, I could almost believe it had all been a bad dream. This was how I’d envisioned us here five years ago. Just her and I and the ocean beyond.
    Lorelei stretched out her arms, the blue vista of the sky making her look tiny against its expanse.
    Then she fell.
    If it weren’t for the fact that the cottage sat a quarter of a mile inland and the weather was still cold as hell, I would’ve believed the scene before me was true.
    Opening my eyes, I took a deep breath as my vision cleared. Pulling myself upright, I cursed. I’d fallen asleep on the couch at some point, and now it was dark out. I’d left Lorelei to her own devices for hours, but as I shook off the last of my impromptu nap, I could see she had used the time in her own efficient way.
    She was still here .
    A fire was raging in the hearth, popping and cracking, filling the room with the earthy scent of wood smoke. That wasn’t all. It mingled with something else that made my stomach churn. Food.
    Standing, I shuffled through the cottage and found her in the most unlikely place.
    Lorelei was busy in the kitchen, the scent of cooking food filling the tiny space as she worked. Turning, she glanced at me with a blank expression and began dishing up whatever she’d concocted onto both plates.
    “You cooked?” I asked, sitting at the table. An assassin making a roast. What a juxtaposition.
    She shrugged. “You were asleep. I was hungry.”
    It was logical, and I bit my tongue to stop myself from telling her so.
    “Eat,” she commanded, sitting opposite.
    Tasting the beef and mashed potatoes, I was surprised to find that it was rather good. An assassin with hidden culinary talents. Even as I marveled at how good a cook she was, I found myself wondering if it was a talent she’d held before. Was Lorelei the gallery curator a good cook?
    “This is really nice,” I offered, trying to separate the two women in my mind.
    She glanced at me. “I followed the directions.”
    Of course she did. I continued eating, letting the conversation fall into silence.
    Once we were both done, she cleared the table, and set the plates into the sink. I watched her carefully, sensing that something unsaid was in the air. She leaned against the counter, hiding her face from me.
    “I have a lead on a man who has a link to Lafayette’s operation in the UK,” she declared.
    “How do you have a lead?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.
    “Hawkes.”
    I slammed my fist down on the table. He’d talk to her, but not me? Ten years we’d caused chaos together, and he talked to her over me. I’d wring his filthy fucking neck.
    Lorelei turned and gave me a look. “I took the SIM card out of your burner phone weeks ago, and you haven’t cared to check it.”
    Scowling, I knew she was probably right. I’d been living in a fantasy for the past month, throwing my all into being here with her and trying to find a love that was lost. I was still making the same mistakes.
    We did everything together, apart from the one thing I wanted to partake in again and again. We hadn’t kissed, touched, or fucked since that night in the motel when she’d almost slipped away into the ocean of her own mind. We hadn’t touched, and it was all I wanted to do.
    I took her in—her wavy hair that reached her jawline, her big,