Page 51 of Beloved Beast

It is hard to say how Luke will transform as time goes by. Will he be able to read people’s minds? Be able to speak different languages without any instruction? Will his senses continue to sharpen until he can hear a pin drop a mile away? Or will he lose control of his emotions, be overtaken by blind rage, and become violent and uncontrollable, a beast in nature as well as in look?

His body is in a constant state of rebirth. Every instance I tested him, I found different results. If only I could see inside his brain to see how it functions. He must find someone he can trust in the years ahead to monitor his possible changes. Or perhaps I am a mad scientist and merely contemplating the worst-case scenario. One thing I do know. Luke is beyond human. How far beyond, remains to be seen.

“Oh, Luke. He is only speculating. He has no concrete proof.”

“Reed may be a lot of things, but he is brilliant. He may have the right of it. My life with Glenna was quiet and serene. Perhaps it is the kind of existence I need to keep the beast at bay. A good thing my days as a spy are at an end. God knows what I might be capable of.”

Gillian kissed his cheek. “I already know. You are capable of deep feelings, you’re honest, and more importantly, honorable.” She trailed her fingers along his strong jawline. “And passionate and entirely worth loving.”

Luke tossed the folder on the table and hugged her tight. “I was not looking for this. Never thought I would find it again. You humble me, Gillian. What I tried to deny, you embraced with your whole heart. You have let light and joy back into my life.” He nuzzled her neck. “And yes, passion, and more importantly—love.”

Her heart soared at his emotionally spoken words. “What will happen to us?”

“We can do nothing until the war is over, until MI-6 allows us to contact each other again. They have to deem it safe for you to return, to take up your former life. Or, you may decide to keep the new life you are given. I will be obtaining a new identity for myself. I doubt I will stay in the London area. I won’t venture far, as I have family in the city.”

Damn. She would not cry, though she wanted to sob uncontrollably at the unfairness of the situation. “We must be parted.” She could hear the agony in her own voice. In truth, her heart was breaking.

“Yes. But you are brave and resolute and you will adjust. This is only a temporary circumstance, remember that,” Luke whispered. “Now, we should finish packing. First, I will start the car and let it run for a bit to make sure it is in fine working condition for our departure.”

“When are we leaving?” she asked.

“Before five. I want us to arrive in Brighton in plenty of time.”

A smile curled about the corner of her mouth as she turned to face him, placing her knees on either side of his hips. She laid tender kisses up the left side of his face, across the striated and taut white scars, down to his full, pink lips. “Right here, make love to me.”

He kissed her, and her heart soared at the searing heat flaring between them. Luke fumbled with his trousers as she hiked her dress up and pushed aside her undergarments. She lowered herself on his stiff shaft, and moaned loudly as he filled her. “Come inside me. There is no chance of pregnancy, as I’m about to begin my monthly,” she urged as she nibbled on his earlobe.

“Devil’s hell, I do love your frank talk.” He kissed her again, taking complete possession of her mouth. She moved slowly at first, rocking back and forth as he continued to kiss her and thrust his hips upward. Deep, meshed together as one.

The coupling was frantic, quick, and she cried out as her release made the room spin about her. Luke followed with a low groan, his teeth gritted, his eyes closed, those long, black lashes fluttering. He sat completely still; she was about to ask if he was all right. His eyes snapped open, the multiple colors alive, vibrant, and glittering with emotion. “I love you.”

The tears came. She couldn’t hold them back any longer. This would be the hardest thing she’d ever done. Leaving Luke would tear her to bits.

* * * *

Luke slipped his Webley revolver in the side pocket of his trench coat. His suitcase would be staying here. After handing Gillian to the agent meeting them in Brighton, he would return to the house, pick up his belongings, do one last check and ensure all perishable food items were taken from the place as well as any refuse, head to London to pick up his own car, and return home. Yet another upheaval of his life would begin. A new identity. A new residence. And when settled, he would sit by the fire, snifter of brandy in hand, and watch the minutes tick away until he was reunited with Gillian.

More than once he considered traveling with her to Canada, but as soon as his identity and description had been revealed, he understood he couldn’t go with her. All this may be for nothing, but his inner alarm had been pealing since they received the letter from Fred. There was nothing else for it: he had to say good-bye. The prospect tore his insides to shreds because he did love her. Most desperately. They had a future; he felt it deep within his soul. But it would have to wait.

First, he must get her to safety. He wouldn’t be able to take a restful breath until he did. “Come, Gillian, we must load the car. Keep a sharp lookout; let me know if you see anything out of the ordinary.”

She kissed his cheek. “Righty-o.”

With her wig and glasses firmly in place, she stepped outside and nonchalantly looked about. “All clear,” she said, her tone hushed.

Out of the corner of his eye, someone strode out from behind the old, gnarled oak tree at the edge of the property.

“Not quite all clear, Mr. Newman.”

Gillian gasped. Luke turned to look at the man who spoke with a perfect English accent. But this man was not British. The Luger he gripped in his gloved hand revealed the truth. And he matched the sketch of the man Fred had sent. A Nazi agent. The secretary did unwittingly give information to the enemy.

Damn it all, they should have left yesterday. This morning, even. And the biggest blunder of all? He should have moved the car to the tunnel exit and they should have made their departure that way. It was the reason they came here, because of the tunnel. There was no excuse for his careless mistake except he’d been distracted by other things. Like falling love. The revolver was pointed at Gillian and Luke dare not make a move. Not yet. Not outside where they could draw attention.

“Both of you, inside. Quickly,” the man demanded, his words ending on a snarl.

Luke clasped Gillian’s arm and pulled her through the rear entrance. The German followed, closing the door behind him, all the while keeping his gaze firm on them. Luke knew when the opportunity afforded itself he would have to act fast.

“Put the suitcases on the floor. Remove the obvious wig and glasses. No sudden movements from either of you,” the man said.