Chapter 85

Sam had almost everything arranged, his bag packed, and the key to the room in Lincoln’s Inn Field in his pocket, when the door slammed and Tristan walked in. Sam was shocked. Anxious and shocked.

Tristan was pale and tense. Since his escape from Dante’s he had become accustomed to Tristan’s blue eyes sparkling with love, good humour, passion, and affection. Now he could read nothing. His face was a blank, aristocratic mask that conveyed nothing but supercilious boredom. Those eyes that had followed him eagerly now looked through him.

Sam’s mouth was dry. “Hello.” It was hardly an original greeting but Sam didn’t have the faintest notion of what to say. Where to begin or what to do.

Tristan just nodded. He stripped off his coat and gloves and threw them on a chair.

“Have you eaten?” Tristan said. For the first time in their acquaintance Sam was uncomfortable in Tristan’s company. Was this how it was going to be?

“I have eaten. Thank you.”