Running Away

James Potter jerked awake. It was one in the morning. He had been asleep for a bit more than four hours.

Something was wrong. He could feel it, just as he could feel beads of sweat dripping down his forehead, just as he could feel how sore he was, how tired he was.

He needed sleep. But, James knew one thing – sleep would not come to him again tonight.

……………………………………………………..

Lily Evans ran as fast as she could down the Parisian streets, her sneakers squeaking on the wet pavement. He had seen her, she knew it. She had blown her mission.

She was breathing hard, terrified. He probably could feel her heart beating through the humid air.

What she didn’t know, is how she, the hunter, had all of a sudden become the hunted.

………………………………………………….

James couldn’t sleep. He restlessly paced his London flat. Out of ideas, he flipped on the light, and dug in his closet for his broomstick. He began to polish it, with rapid strokes.

It wasn’t helping.

Something was wrong. Something he couldn’t place.

He put the broomstick down, the small polished area gleaming in the dim light. He opened the trunk at the foot of his bed, searching through it for a hint, a clue, as to what was bothering him.

Memories floated out with the objects in the trunk. An old Snitch that didn’t fly anymore here, a tuft of werewolf hair there. Old photographs.

Old photographs. Memories.

…………………………………………………….

It was midnight. Lily was hiding in the corner of the old abandoned warehouse, under an Invisibility Cloak, watching as one of the most influential wizards in France, Jean-Paul Dante, held out his left forearm.

Another wizard was there, a tall man with steely gray eyes, and white-blond hair. He waved his wand over Dante’s arm, and whispered an incantation. As Lily watched, the Dark Mark blazed across Dante’s arm, furious and dark.

Lily silently gasped.

……………………………………………………

James continued to grope aimlessly through the trunk. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for. He didn’t even know why he was still looking.

……………………………………………………….

The blond man spoke. He was obviously British. “Jean-Paul Dante, you are now under the service of the Dark Lord. When you feel this mark burns, you must go to the Dark Lord. Your allegiance is no longer to France. You must now only obey the Dark Lord. He is your master.”

“My master,” Dante echoed.

Lily shivered. The room felt colder. Her worst fears were confirmed.

Jean-Paul Dante, the most powerful businessman in France, was a servant to Voldemort.

France was in grave danger.

“Monsieur Dante,” the blond man said, “You are certain there is no one here?”

“Oui,” Dante replied. “No one.”

The blond man looked around. “Excellent.”

He snapped his fingers. Out of the shadows, two more men appeared. They were burly, large.

The blond man snapped, “When we leave, destroy this building.”

The men grunted an affirmation. Lily crouched deeper into her corner. For the first time that night, Lily felt fear. The blond man and Dante apparated away, with loud cracks. The two large men looked around the warehouse. One man muttered an incantation, and oil spewed from his wand, slick and black. Lily moved out of the way, when a spurt of it headed in her direction. The other man lit a match. He dropped into the oil. The black splotches on the floor and walls of the warehouse burst into violent flame.

The wooden warehouse was doomed.

They cackled, and apparated away.

Lily waited a moment. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her panicked body. She waved her wand to apparate, but the spell failed. There was no cracking noise.

She gasped. Someone had put an anti-apparition ward on the warehouse.

Thick black smoke began billowing around her. She knew she would suffocate or burn alive within minutes. Not wanting to choose between those options, Lily crouched in her corner, low to the ground, surrounded by dancing flames. She took a breath of precious oxygen.

The wooden walls surrounded her. That was it, she realized. Using her wand, Lily blasted a section of a wall through. It gave surprisingly easily. She stumbled over the rubble, out of the burning building. Her Invisibility Claok had slipped off. It was sooty. She clutched it to her body, still shaking with panic. Lily coughed once, twice.

She glimpsed a man in the shadows, watching her. Moonlight glinted off of his sandy brown hair. He glimpsed her; their eyes held contact for a second.

Dante.

The blond man was there. He had yet to see her. Lily knew his presence bought her time. Dante would not want to reveal the slip-up in his secret ceremony.

She, the slip-up, ran.

.................................................................

James felt the bottom of his trunk. He reached, and felt something else. More photographs.

He pulled them out. He instantly realized why they were at the bottom of his trunk.

Lily was in them.

Lily.

He stared at one of them, a group picture. It had been after they had started dating, in his seventh year at Hogwarts. His arm was leisurely around her waist. She was laughing about something he had just said. He kissed her on the cheek. The sequence of motion began again.

That was it. That’s what was wrong.

Lily was in danger.

……………………………………………………….

She got to her flat in Paris. Sleep was risky. It made her vulnerable. Lily caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She was dirty and sooty. She craved hot water against her skin, stripping it of its impurities. But in her line of work, cravings were never satisfied.

She was Lily Evans, masquerading as Chief Assistant to the Magical Ambassador from Great Britain to France. She was really Lily Evans, spy for the Order of the Phoenix. Lily had gone through rigorous training. She was an expert fighter, a master-of-disguise, more skilled than most Aurors.

A shower was completely out of the question.

Lily threw powder onto the fire. It glowed for a minute and turned green. She knelt before it, stuck her head in, and yelled, “Eighty-three Wood Hollow Lane!”

Her tired knees ached already from the stone floor by the fireplace.

“Moody!” she called.

………………………………………………………...

James did the only thing he could do under the situation. He apparated to Sirius’s flat.

“Sirius!” he shouted, from the living room/kitchen area.

Silence answered him. James frantically headed to the bedroom. He knocked on the door, and entered.

“Padfoot,” he muttered, “You’d better be decent.”

Sirius was anything but decent. He was lying in bed, his arm lazily around a voluptuous blond. James rolled his eyes. He went to Sirius’s side of the bed, and shook him.

“Padfoot,” James whispered. “Padfoot!”

Whispering was not working.

“Sirius!” James shouted in his ear.

“Bugger! What in bloody hell?” Sirius yelled.

“Sirius, what’s going on?” the blond murmured sleepily. She looked over James appreciatively.

James tried to be a gentleman and avert his eyes from her naked breasts.

“James, you do realize that it is almost two in the fucking morning?” Sirius grumbled.

“Sirius, you do realize I wouldn’t be here unless it was important?” James responded.

“Sirius,” the blonde mumbled, “why is he here?”

Sirius groaned. “It’s a surprise, sweetheart.”

“A threesome?” she asked. “Kinky.”

“No!” Sirius and James exclaimed together.

James said, “Get a dressing gown on, and meet me in the living room.”

………………………………………………………………

“Moody!” Lily hissed.

“Who’s there?” Alastor Moody barked. His beady eyes stared at the fireplace.

“Lily!” Lily replied quickly. “Lily Evans.”

Moody looked at her expectantly.

“The blue fox is on top of the green henhouse,” Lily said. It was their password.

Moody nodded. “It is you.”

“The red hen has been eaten by the snake,” Lily added.

Moody understood immediately. The phrase meant her cover had been blown.

“Keep her eggs warm,” he said.

Lily knew exactly what to do next.

……………………………………………………

James was frantically pacing the room when Sirius walked in.

“Prongs, what’s the matter?”

“It’s Lily,” James muttered sheepishly.

“Lily Evans?” Sirius asked. “James, you haven’t even seen her since Hogwarts. She’s been in Paris these past four years!”

“She’s in trouble,” James said.

“How do you know?”

James stopped pacing. He whirled to face Sirius. “I just know, ok? I don’t know why!”

“Sirius Black!” suddenly boomed Alastor Moody’s face in the fireplace.

Sirius and James raced over to the fire.

“Moody!” James exclaimed.

“Both of you, to the henhouse! Now!” Moody commanded loudly. He disappeared from the fireplace.

James and Sirius apparated to 83 Wood Hollow Lane immediately.

………………………………………………………

The meeting room at 83 Wood Hollow Lane was filled with worried faces. Moody stood at the head of the table in the center of the room, waiting for everyone to arrive.

“What’s going on?’ James wondered, when he and Sirius arrived.

“I don’t know,” Sirius answered, still in his dressing gown and boxers.

They took their seats anxiously. Moody loudly tapped his wand on the table. The room, full of the best of the Order of the Phoenix, fell silent.

“Moody, you are aware that it is two in the morning,” someone grumbled.

Moody silenced him with a glare.

“This is a matter of utmost importance,” Moody said. “Our contact in France, Lily Evans, has been in Paris for four years now.”

“Lily,” James whispered softly.

Moody continued, “She has been posing as the Chief Assistant to the Magical Ambassador from Britain to France. Tonight, she snuck into an abandoned warehouse, and witnessed Jean-Paul Dante becoming a Death Eater. Dante is one of France’s most influential men. He saw her there tonight. Miss Evans escaped, but her cover has been blown. She will not be able to report to work this morning. Dante will have her killed the moment he finds her. And make no mistake, unless we intervene, he will find her. If he finds her, she will die. This cannot be allowed to happen.”

Marlene McKinnon raised her hand. “How do we help her?”

Moody responded, “She will need to go into hiding for the time being, with a bodyguard.”

He waved his wand over the table. A smaller version of Lily Evans appeared above the table.

“Potter,” Moody informed the group, “I’ve chosen you to be Miss Evans’s bodyguard.”

“Me?” James sputtered.

“Yes,” Moody said firmly. “You’re an Auror, and you’re specially trained in witness protection. Who else can I assign?”

“Sirius,” James pointed out.

Moody laughed. “Sirius is needed here, James. You have no choice in the matter. I’m sorry.”

“Moody, you don’t understand,” James argued, “I’m the last person you want in charge of keeping Lily Evans alive.”

“I’m expecting you to put aside any personal feelings you may have for Miss Evans,” Moody said. “She is your new mission. Don’t screw this up, Potter.”

“Yes, sir,” James grumbled, knowing he had no other options.

“All right,” Moody said, “Potter, you and Evans will go to a safe house in France. I’ve already made arrangements for a Portkey. First thing tomorrow morning, Hestia, as our contact at the Ministry, you must make arrangements so it looks as though Lily Evans has been transferred to the Department of Mysteries. Make all the records show that she has become an Unspeakable. That way, no one will question why they haven’t seen her. Black, you and Baker need to apprehend Dante as soon as possible. Evans is his only weakness and he will do anything to make sure You-Know-Who doesn’t find out.”

Everyone nodded.

“James, stay behind for further briefing. The rest of you are dismissed.”

…………………………………………………………

It was eight in the morning. Lily tucked a strand of her newly blond hair behind her left ear. Her bright green eyes, shielded by mirrored sunglasses, were heavy with worry. She adjusted the muggle clothing she was wearing. Lily easily blended in with the students milling around Montmatre. They were in-between classes at the Sorbonne, chatting at cafés and sipping coffees. She stopped at a crêpe vendor and ordered her favorite – bananas and nutella – in flawless French. She chatted with him amicably.

It was a deceivingly beautiful day, bright and sunny. Her trainers squeaked slightly on the pavement.

“Merci beaucoup,” she told the vendor politely.

He smiled at her. She smiled back.

Lily caught a reflection of herself in the window of a shop. As a blonde, she was unrecognizable, unnoticeable. She adjusted her sunglasses, and nibbled on her crêpe. A bit of Nutella oozed onto her finger. She licked it off.

She eyed every person who passed her on the street, making sure no one was particularly interested in her. She occasionally disappeared into shops, watching to ensure that no one was following. Lily was careful; she could not risk being recognized.

Suddenly, familiar arms crept around her waist from behind. She felt warm breath on her ear.

He nibbled on her ear lovingly, while she tried to study.

“Stop!” Lily said, not really meaning it. “You’re supposed to be studying.”

He resembled a puppy that had messed up a rug. “How can I concentrate when you look so pretty?”

She blushed. “I thought I told you that flattery was useless.”

He looped his arm lazily over her shoulders and grinned. “I’m selfish. I just like to see you blush.”

Lily laughed. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Of course,” he replied. “You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

Lily gasped. “You!”

“You know,” he murmured, “I liked you better as a redhead.”

He loved her. They had been on three dates, and he loved her. He was afraid to tell her, afraid she would laugh at him, afraid she would slap him across the face.

Afraid of losing her.

Seven years. It has taken seven years to woo her. He had chased her since he was eleven, he was seventeen now. She had finally given into him a month ago.

One blissful month that more than made up for seven years without her.

It was summer. All the N.E.W.T. exams were over. The Leaving Ceremony was to take place the next day. It was the end of their Hogwarts careers, and the beginning of the rest of their lives.

He set up a picnic by the lake, under his favorite tree – a cloth in Gryffindor red, lasagna (her favorite food), a plate of succulent strawberries, a golden bowl filled with creamy Nutella. She was going to be there soon. He stood impatiently near the cloth, a white lily clutched in his hands.

He saw her in the distance. He smiled; the mere sight of her inspired it.

But, something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

She did not return his greeting. She seemed icy, cold. She was walking with a purpose, her hips swaying temptingly. Her eyes were shiny. She strode up to him, yanked the lily out of his hands, and stepped on it, crushing the fragile bloom underneath her small foot.

She slapped him, the cold crack echoing, contrasting sharply with the warm Hogwarts grounds. He touched his cheek; there would be a red mark there later.

“Lily, what’s going on?” he whispered.

“I know what you’ve been doing,” she responded confidently. “James, we’re through.”

“So, that’s it?” he asked, utterly confused, not wanting to believe it, praying it was a cruel joke.

“Yes,” she said firmly, spinning around. She walked away from him, feeling his hurt, baffled stare bore through her back.

Straight to her heart.

If he had been able to see her face, he would have seen her furiously wipe away a tear.

………………………………………………………………………..

“What the hell are you doing here?” Lily exclaimed, taking care to keep her voice down. “How did you find me?”

James shushed her, “Moody sent me. I’m here to protect you.”

He still had a firm hand on her waist. It hadn’t been hard to find Lily. He had known she would be in Montmartre, a blond, dressed in jeans and a white tank top. But even without that information, James would have been able to find Lily.

Something inexplicable had steered him to this little street in Paris. James had observed the blond from a distance, stealthily following her for about a minute. He would have recognized Lily’s body anywhere – the feminine curves, the toned arms. When she stopped at the crêpe vendor, and ordered the crêpe with the Nutella and the bananas, James was certain.

He stopped her at the next opportunity.

“Potter,” she hissed, “I don’t need protection. Especially not from you. Moody knows that!”

“Yes, you do!” James insisted angrily. “Don’t make me do this the hard way.”

“The hard way,” Lily repeated skeptically. “Which would be?”

“Stun you,” answered James. “I’d much rather you came willingly.”

Lily’s eyes narrowed behind her sunglasses. “How do I know you’re not working for him?”

Not sure which him, she was referring to, James muttered a password. “I’m here to guard the red hen’s eggs.”

James kept an arm firmly around Lily’s waist. He pushed slightly, forcing her to take a few steps forward. They walked. James steered her down the street.

“I still don’t trust you, Potter,” Lily declared. “I don’t need your help.”

“It seems that you’ve got a crazed Death Eater after you, and you need to get rid of him. Usually, that requires help of some sort. I’m, of course, just speculating, here,” James responded sarcastically.

“Where are you taking me?” Lily asked.

“It’s classified,” James answered.

“Potter, what’s wrong with you?” Lily said, adjusting her sunglasses. “I have the right to know where you’re taking me!”

“No, you don’t,” James said.

“Yes, I do,” Lily argued.

“If you get captured on the way there,” James explained, “Its location could be tortured out of you, and we would lose a safe house.”

She had always hated it when he was right. He would smirk at her with that annoying grin of his. But lately, it seemed that even the grin wasn’t so bad.

All right, so she adored the grin. It was more than that. He had grown up quite a bit. It was the little things that made his maturation obvious – the way he didn’t muss his hair as much, his seriousness as Head Boy, his stricter Quidditch practices, how he stood up for the first years instead of pranking them…the way he had only asked her on a date once this year.

Something was fundamentally different about James Potter in his seventh year.

Frustration hit Lily Evans like a battering ram. Perhaps, that was why she asked him to Hogsmeade.

Or perhaps, she simply wanted him to grin at her again.

……………………………………………………….

They had arrived in a narrow alleyway, hidden from the street. James pulled an old rubber glove out of his pocket.

“Portkey,” he muttered.

Lily nodded. She placed a finger on it, hating that she had no idea where she was going to end up.

“I hate this,” she commented. “Can’t we just Apparate?”

James rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be so condescending!” Lily snapped.

“I wasn’t being condescending!” James responded acidly.

“You rolled your eyes at me,” Lily pointed out.

“It was an unconscious action,” James protested.

Lily snorted. “It looked quite conscious to me!”

“It’s not my fault you had to make a ridiculous comment. How can you Apparate if you have no idea where you’re going?”

“Very easily.”

James looked impressed. “Where’d you bloody learn how to do that?”

Lily was saved from responding by a sharp hook at her waist. They were spinning into oblivion. She landed with a thump in another secluded alleyway. James was next to her, looking at a bit of parchment.

“All right, we have to rent a car,” he said.

“A car?” Lily repeated, surprised.

“Yes,” James responded dryly, “A metal thing with an engine, and four wheels. Muggles use it to go places.”

“And you’re back to being condescending,” she sniped.

“And you’re back to being a bitch,” James shot back.

Lily sniffed. “Under these circumstances? It’s understandable.”

“What, is it that time of the month?”

“Bastard!”

………………………………………

They had bickered all the way to the car-rental.

“Can you even drive?” Lily said angrily, her green eyes flashing.

“Would you shut up? We’re supposed to be newlyweds!” James said.

She gave him a sickly sweet smile, and took his hand. A shock of electricity pulsed through him at the slight contact.

It was still there. That spark. He watched her walk away from him, on the train platform.

The pain from the break was still sharp. It jabbed at his heart. But that fire, that electricity, it was still there.

And he would never see her again.

They walked into the car-rental, still holding hands.

“Bonjour,” James greeted the woman behind the counter.

His French was rough and awkward. The woman winced.

Lily took over, and requested a car in perfect French. The transaction went smoothly. They left, and James took the keys from her. The car was a trendy sports car; it only had room for two. She glared at him, and sat down in the passenger seat. James started the car. He slipped off his jacket and tossed it into the insignificant backseat. The engine hummed merrily. He pressed the button for the radio, and flipped through the stations.

“It’s all in bloody French,” James said irritably.

“We are still in France, aren’t we?” Lily said sarcastically. “Actually, I’m not the one to talk. I have no idea where we are.”

“La Rochelle, by the Bay of Biscay,” James informed her. “The house is about two hours away from here, in the Loire Valley.”

“Why couldn’t we just Portkey?”

“Wards. No one can enter the home and the land surrounding it through magical means,” James explained.

An awkward silence encompassed the two of them. Ironically, Edie Piaf’s La Vie en Rose played over the radio. Lily changed the station.

“I was listening to that!” James exclaimed.

Lily scoffed, “You can’t even understand it!”

“I like the melody,” James argued.

“I don’t care! I don’t like it, and that’s what matters!” Lily said selfishly.

“Yes, because you’re the victim,” James responded dryly.

“I am!” Lily protested. “I’m the one with a crazed Death Eater after me!”

“And I’m the one who has to deal with you until they catch that crazy Death Eater!”

“Because, I’m that horrible. At least I’m not a liar, a cheater, an insufferable prat, cocky, arrogant-”

“Need a thesaurus, Evans?”

“-plotting, aggravating, delinquent, worthless, deceitful, guileful, and all around piece of pond scum!”

“I prefer to think of myself as debonair and devastatingly handsome, but your list will do just fine, Evans. Thank you.”

James understood Lily Evans well enough to know that the best way to irk her was ignore her, treat her like she meant nothing. He was also still bitter enough to resort to such tactics. He was also still in love enough to counteract the bitterness.

Silence consumed the car again. Lily yawned. She hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours. James sympathized. He handed her his jacket.

“I don’t need it,” she muttered, pushing it away.

“You never could sleep without a blanket,” James said gruffly. “This is the best I’ve got for right now.”

Lily’s startlingly green eyes widened in shock. She took the jacket, ignoring slight pang of remembrance. Lily stretched in the small seat. James looked over at her, and then looked away quickly.

He knew her body better than he knew his own – the tiny mole on her right shoulder blade, her legs, long in proportion to her small body, her soft stomach, her curvy hips. She was soft, she was beautiful, and for the moment, she was his. He could tell her from her soft mews of pleasure that he was the only one who knew her so intimately; he hoped remain the only one. His hard body pressed her into the mattress. She sighed against his weight.

James could feel himself growing hard, as she curled up into his jacket. He was still attracted to her. James found this rather annoying, as witness protection became much more difficult when he had a permanent erection. Lily was beautiful, even as a blond. He considered this – he missed her red hair. Her hair had been gorgeous. It had fallen to her mid-back, straight as a pin. There had been an infinite amount of colors in it; no two strands were alike. This new monotonic blonde was so unlike her. Sirius would have been pleased – he has a blond fetish. James, on the other hand, loved red hair, and he especially loved it on Lily Evans.

……………………………………….

He woke her as they neared the house.

She looked around herself groggily. “What? What’s going on?”

“We’re almost to the safe house,” James said. “You must remove any Charms you’ve placed on yourself. Once we’re inside a fifty-yard radius of the house, all magic becomes null.”

“Null?”

“We won’t be able to use any magic,” James explained. “And it’s painful, but as soon as we enter the border around the house, all magic you’ve used on yourself is removed. All Glamour Charms, Polyjuice Potion, etc. Healing Potions and such do work.”

Lily nodded and took out her wand. “Finite Incantatem.”

Her hair turned straightened and turned red. Her purse became an Invisibility Cloak, and he could hear coins jingling beneath it.

“You transfigured an Invisibility Cloak?” he asked, impressed.

She nodded, and yawned. “It’s not as hard as they make it out to be.”

“Still, that’s advanced magic!”

“Why are you so surprised, Potter? What do you think I’ve been doing for the past four years? I am not some helpless damsel-in-distress!” Lily said, frustrated.

James rolled his eyes. “You still can’t take a compliment!”

“You’re back to being condescending,” Lily announced.

James rolled his eyes again. Lily curled back up in her seat, obviously miffed. She glared silently out the window. He stared stonily through the windshield. James pulled into the driveway, and turned the car off. She wordlessly handed him his jacket, and got out of the car, holding her Cloak in a bundle. James stalked out of the car, slamming his door shut.

The house was small, surrounded by green grass. There were a few flowers planted near the front door. The grounds were large and forested. A narrow dirt road had led up to the house. James could sense the blurry edges of the wards in the distance. He opened the brown door, and walked in. Lily trailed behind him.

There was a kitchenette, and a living/dining room with a fireplace. A comfortable couch and chairs decorated the small space. A fire crackled merrily, despite the sun outside. There weren’t that many windows. Lily opened another door; it was the bathroom. A bedroom was off to one side.

Lily wandered into it. There was a large wardrobe and a full-sized bed. She opened the wardrobe. It was stocked with Muggle clothes. She pulled out a tank top and held it up. It was her size.

“Thank God,” she murmured, relieved to finally have a change of clothes.

James walked in. “Lily?”

“What?” she called sharply.

“Don’t bite my bloody head off,” James said, “I was just making certain you found your clothes. This will be your room.”

“I gathered that,” Lily said. “Did you need anything else?”

“You’re the one being condescending now,” James teased.

“Oh, shut up, Potter!”

James laughed.

“And, I get the shower first,” Lily added.

James winked. “Can I join you?”

“Potter!” Lily shrieked. “Get out!”

She pushed him, and he took the hint. James heard the door slam behind him, and a few moments later, the shower came on. He had half-wanted her to take him up on his offer.

She emerged from the bath. Her dressing down had come undone, and he could see rivulets of water traveling down the valley between her breasts. He had never been so jealous of a water droplet in his entire life.

James wanted to be the water, caressing her, soothing her. Disgusted with himself, he repeated one of the Auror’s commandments:

An Auror never lusts after those he is supposed to protect.

James had never thought this would be a problem; usually, his witnesses were escaped male Death Eaters, children, mothers of Death Eaters, etc. He tried to focus himself on the task ahead – keeping one Lily Evans alive.

……………………………………………….

Lily stripped off her clothes and turned on the water. She waited for it to warm up before stepping in. There was shampoo and conditioner, soap waiting for her. Lily wanted to scrub away the memories of the past few days. Dirt flowed from her body. She let the hot water soothe her aching, tired muscles.

She sighed.

Lily massaged shampoo in her hair, trying not to think of James.

He had always loved playing with her hair. Even when they were first years, he would tug on one of her plaits, run his fingers through it. Now, as seventh years, his play had become different – less innocent. He looked for ways to touch it.

As she lay on her stomach, reading, he sat down next to her on her bed.

“Lily,” he murmured affectionately.

Distracted by her book, she made a noise of recognition. He laughed at her. He leaned down and slowly began to massage her back, in slow, tantalizing motions. She smiled into her book. He ran his fingers through her hair; she arched into his touch like a cat.

He grinned devilishly, and tossed her book aside. Lily flipped over onto her back, his hands still entangled in her hair. He kissed her happily.

Lily wrenched herself out of memories. She couldn’t still be attracted to James; it just wasn’t possible, after his betrayal. As she remembered that, pain cut through her, sharp, biting. What he had done had been so horrible – it had torn her in two.

She thought she had done a good job of hiding her feelings after that. He never suspected that she had gone to her chambers and cried for him. He never suspected that she loved him.

That she still loved him.