He had been travelling for close to twelve hours. Exhaustion showed on his face, in the set of his body. Abandoning the car across the drive he stumbled towards the house. No lights shone in the windows, the dark night seemed to enclose around him.
The heat was stifling, hot and humid, moisture beading on his skin, his hair flattened to his head, shirt glued to his back.
It was times like this he longed for the sharp iciness of St. Petersburg.
He stumbled up the path, towards the garden, where he knew he could find shelter in the cool greenness. Tiny niches, lush trailing vines, it was a sanctuary against the airless night.
As he stalked through the narrow paths, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
'Who's there?' he hissed into the night.
'Who do you think?'
Dark eyes peered out from a small sheltered alcove.
'You're still here?' he snarled.
'No. I'm just a figment of your imagination.'
Ashleigh stepped from the darkness.
She had been there for three days. Three, long, frustrating days. Sheer stubbornness had refused to let her leave, despite the increasing dents to her pride. She had waited for him to come back, and why? To scream and shout at him? To take another swing at him?
'One more night,' she hissed. 'One more night and I wouldn't have been here.'
'Don't let me stand in your way of leaving.'
'I won't.'
'Then go. Just walk away. Like you should have done in the beginning.'
'And miss out on an opportunity like this? I quite enjoyed my few days of sun, sea and relaxation. A perfect break before I run back to England with my tail between my legs.'
He stood in the shadows, refusing to speak, refusing to answer her.
'I know when I'm not wanted, Alec. I'll be on a flight first thing in the morning.'
'If that's what you want.'
She stepped forward from the shadows. With a practised eye, Alec saw the dark circles under her eyes, her skin pale from lack of sleep. Anger tensed her body, her eyes were narrowed in a stubborn stare. Her bruised eye was a riot of colours, vivid greens and yellows fighting for precedence with the fading purples.
'You look like hell.'
'You're not so...' the insult trailed off as she finally saw his face. 'What happened to you? Who did this to you?'
If Ashleigh's face looked bad, then Alec's looked a thousand times worse. Bruising travelled from his temple to his jaw, a gash ran across the bridge of his nose, another travelled up and under his hairline.
From the way his shoulder was held, she had a horrible suspicion that it might be broken. Or at the least, cracked.
'It doesn't matter.' He tried to shrug, but the gesture caused a wince of pain to flicker across his face.
The anger left Ashleigh, carefully she ran her hand down his face, checking for swelling, and then her hands moved to his jacket. He swallowed a groan, but let her help him to remove it.
Blood had soaked through his shirt.
'You went to kill him.' It was a statement, not a question, quietly spoken.
He nodded. 'It was the final part of the assignment. His organisation was growing too dangerous, his ideas too radical. It wasn't easy. But it's over now.'
