The shock of her words had slumped Jacopo back onto the sofa and deadened his inclination to move – unless it was to move towards her, which was not the wise thing to do. He’d only embarrass himself. Why would a clever, funny, attractive girl like Birch want to have anything to do with him? She was probably just being kind and thanking him for – for –
Shesatrightnexttohim.
Right next to him. So close that he could hear her breathing. And then – and then… a hot flush crept up the back of Jacopo’s neck as she leant against him, the thud, thud of her heartbeat muddying against his own. One of them had an accelerated heartrate. Or both of them? Just one of them, definitely – just him. Nothing about Jacopo could drive up a girl’s heartrate. He was just… just…
Then she said it. Those three words.
For a moment, just a moment, the world stopped turning. Time stopped moving. The breeze froze through the stilled leaves.
Then he leant in and kissed her.
Everything – this life, the mission, their respective histories – it all flew out of the window. Somewhere at the back of his mind, Jacopo knew he’d regret this. He knew he’d regret it when inevitable day when his mysterious employer asked for more came. He’d regret it every time he looked into Birch’s laughing green eyes and saw trust and honesty there. He’d regret it when the truth eventually did out, and he saw something else in those eyes.
But Jacopo knew, too, that there were big regrets and little regrets. Life was not designed to be easy; it was designed to be a game impossible to master. On some rolls of the die, there would be a regret whichever path you chose to take – being able to play well was about picking the smaller regret. What was that phrase? ‘The lesser of two evils’. That implied a sense of goodness and morality. Choosing Birch here and now wasn’t about picking the lesser of two evils, because he was still choosing to be dishonest rather than to free her from a crush which couldn’t possibly last – but he would regret it deeply, for the rest of his life, if he didn’t sweep her up in his arms now.
Which he did. Carefully, gently, with the same unexpectedly tender touch he applied to the flowers in the palace gardens, he picked her up off the sofa and held her for a moment – as he’d done only a few hours before.
Then, following her suggestion, he took her back up to bed.
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