I came back to my senses some time later, when a breeze made me shiver. I was propped on the handrail, my legs locked around Stellan's waist. I pulled away and he gave me a dazed smile that was a world away from his earlier distress.
This was like a drug.
I shivered again and he rubbed my arms. "Cold?"
I looked down. My tank top was drooping off one of my shoulders, Stellan's hands warm on my skin. "Where'd my sweatshirt go?" I whispered. I looked over his shoulder to find it in a heap on the next landing down. "How . . . ?"
He shrugged and laughed, low and rough.
I blinked myself back to reality. I felt so much clearer, more alert. I'd been upset with myself about being distracted after Cannes, but this was the type of distraction that would help me concentrate and calm down and feel like a human being. That was helpful. "We should probably go back. Make sure everything's still okay."
"They would have let us know if it wasn't," Stellan said, but he dropped one last kiss on my lips and then set me back on the floor. I reached up to smooth his hair, and he loped down the stairs to grab my discarded hoodie. He held it out with a teasing eyebrow raise.
"Don't look at me like that," I whispered, shrugging it on. "You're the one who took it off me. And you're the one who told me to do something for stress-relief. This is as good a hobby as anything. A temporary hobby at that, if you're leaving."
If I hadn't been watching him closely, I might not have seen his face change. Just as quickly, he went back to normal. "I'm flattered you'd choose me over knitting," he whispered.
We ran down to the kitchen and grabbed an armload of water bottles. Maybe I hadn't really seen that pause. This whole time, Stellan and I had been a story for the Circle, and now we were a distraction for ourselves. That was what this was. It was not-
It wasn't. Not least because that wasn't something my heart could handle right now. The occasional instance of kissing-for-fun-and-stress-relief was one thing. Liking somebody was another, especially under these circumstances. Especially him. It wasn't that.
I made a point to walk a couple feet farther away from him than I otherwise would have.
When we got back to Luc's room, Elodie grabbed the water out of our arms with a frown. "I was starting to get worried you wandered into the clutches of the Saxons."
I was about to reply, but then I looked behind her and did a double take.
"Oh. Right. Rocco's here," Elodie said. "I'll explain in a minute."
Rocco was crouched by Luc's bed. Holding Luc's hand. Luc looked around self-consciously.
Elodie took the water to Luc, and Stellan and I were left gaping. "But Rocco had a thing with the Emirs' daughter," I whispered.
"And that means he couldn't be interested in Luc? How . . . limiting," Stellan whispered tightly. "That's not what confuses me about this situation."
"Remember when Luc was talking to Rocco without us and we all thought it was weird?" I whispered. Stellan nodded. Elodie gestured, and the two of us followed her to the balcony, where Jack was already waiting. We weren't far from the balcony of the room I'd stayed in when I first got to France. Below us, the Louvre courtyard and the Tuileries Gardens spread in either direction.
Stellan wouldn't take his eyes off Luc and Rocco just inside the French doors.
"Lucien only just told me on the phone last night," Elodie whispered. "It wasn't the Emirs' daughter Rocco had a relationship with after all. It was Malik."
Malik Emir had been the first to die in the string of assassinations the Saxons blamed on the Order. It had happened before I even knew the Circle existed. "Everyone thinks the Emir Keeper and their daughter got caught and Laila had to terminate him herself, right?" Elodie said. "That is what happened with Rocco and Malik-but Malik promised Rocco he'd let him escape. Rocco loved him, and he believed him. But Malik decided he couldn't let what happened between them get out for the sake of his reputation, and tried to kill him instead. Rocco fought back, and in the scuffle, Malik was accidentally killed. Rocco ran."
"That's where Rocco got the scar," I whispered.
Elodie nodded. "The Emirs covered it up, but the Circle was suspicious. The Saxons found Rocco somehow, learned the real story, and it seems like that was where they got the idea to commit these assassinations and blame them on the Order. The Circle was primed for it. For a while, Rocco thought the Saxons were good-guy vigilantes. It didn't take him long to realize he was wrong. And then we found him."