Laying on his side, he noticed the spattering of freckles on her back. He stuffed a hand underneath his pillow and watched her as she slept, eyes drinking in her back and the way her hair was messed up on his pillow. He'd checked the clock and seen that it was only four a.m. They'd taken a taxi back to his apartment, both of them keeping their distance from each other. He could tell she was anxious. He'd watched as she stared out of the window, looking at the passing streets, eyes flickering around.

Reaching his apartment block, they'd taken the elevator up to his floor. He'd stood close to her, his hand behind her and fingers flexing before they found the small of her back, sitting there and feeling her stiffen under his touch before relaxing. Usually, the elevator ride felt like it only took a few seconds, just long enough for him to check his emails, but that night it felt like it took an age.

He kept his hand on her back as he guided her to his apartment. He'd unlocked it as quickly as he could, pushing the door open and holding it open for her. He'd tossed his keys onto the sideboard as she stood there. His apartment was sparse. It was sleek with modern features, but there were no personal touches or homely possessions. He hardly lived in it so why bother decorating? She had no time to ask him any questions because he knew he had to move before she started worrying.

His hands cupped her cheeks and he tilted her face towards his, kissing her firmly. He knew she was surprised judging by the small squeak she let out once he'd done it, but then she'd kissed him back, her mouth moving against his. He pulled back after a few seconds, keeping it brief and seeing the red hue on her cheeks. They just stared at each other and he stroked her cheekbones with his thumbs gently before leaning back down to kiss her, hands running along her sides and bringing her flush against him.

From there, it had been impulse. It had been a long time since he'd been intimate with anyone. His focus had been on the games and nothing else. He wouldn't say that he'd been nervous, but only slightly anxious. He wondered if she'd ever done anything like this before, despite her saying that she didn't. Surely being the wife of a diplomat could get lonely. She'd admitted that her husband had affairs, but had she ever thought about straying? He somehow doubted it judging by the way she'd been the night before. She'd moaned against his neck, clinging onto him tightly and begging him for her own pleasure.

She'd insisted on going home, but he'd told her to stay. She'd relented as he rolled her onto her back and kissed her slowly and sensually, his fingers threading through her hair. He'd moved an arm around her shoulders and she'd stayed pressed to his side, her cheek resting by his shoulder and a hand sitting on his chest. He'd listened to her fall asleep and then she'd rolled from him. He pulled the duvet up around her to keep her warm and just laid there, letting her sleep for as long as she needed to.

He'd dozed for a while, but his mind was racing on what came next. He was a man who planned everything. He hated not knowing things. He liked to be the one in charge. But here, at this moment in time, he didn't feel in charge. He watched her for quite some time, wondering if his request had gone through.

Would he tell her? Did he even dare to tell her and bring her into his world? How would she react? He guessed that only time would tell, but he had to be careful. He wasn't sure why he was so invested in finding out, but he was. There was something about her.

He heard her begin to stir, nestling further into his pillow and shifting around. He moved a finger out to her back, tracing her freckles softly. And then he felt her shiver under his touch. He smirked at that, eyes set on her and not moving away. She rolled onto her back after a moment, almost trapping his hand before he moved it away. Her head fell to the side and her eyes blinked open, looking at him, her lips curling upwards into a soft smile. He lifted his hand, thumb brushing her hairline and the soft curls that sat there.

"So…not wearing a wire," he whispered.

She laughed at that, the noise soft and low. She shook her head. "Not wearing a wire," she echoed back. "It's a good job you're not my client too."

"Would this be a sackable offence?"

"And the rest" she said. "I just…I don't do this."

"Never?" he asked her.

"Never," she confirmed. "Robert has his affairs, but I never have. There's been men who flirted at events…tried to get me alone in a dark room…but I never wanted them. I never wanted to have an affair, not really. I'm not sure why I came back with you. I hardly know you. I hardly know who you are, but I told you so much…I told you everything…"

He could tell she was about to shut down and so he moved closer to her, reaching for her waist. He moved a leg in between hers, feeling her chest brush his softly and he kissed her once more. Both of them had alcohol breath and dry mouths, but they didn't seem to care. He let his tongue sweep over her bottom lip and deepened the kiss as her mouth slightly parted.

"You don't need to overthink it," he whispered against her lips, giving her one final peck. "Just accept it."

"I'm not exactly great at not overanalysing everything," she confessed and he chuckled at that.

"Well, if you need assurance," he said and he reached for her hand. He laid it over his chest by his heart. "I swear to you that I'm not working for your husband…a loan shark after his money…a member of the legal regulatory authority to see if you're a legitimate lawyer," he said and Elizabeth laughed at that one. "I'm just a man…just a man, Elizabeth, with no ulterior motive to hurt you."

She so wanted to believe him because it had been so long since anyone had told her that they wanted to look out for her.

"You know I'm not…this…I don't know if it can happen again," she told him and he wasn't going to argue with her. He knew it was going to happen again and she there was nothing neither of them could do to stop it. "I mean, if he finds out-"

"-He's not going to find out," he promised her and she pulled a face that said 'really?' to him. "I have no intention of telling him and as far as he knows, you work late most nights. He's not going to find out and, if he does, I can handle a man like him."

"You can handle him?"

"You think some posh boy is able to get the better of me? I might no longer be in the police force, but I still know things," he said to her and she wasn't going to doubt that. "You know, I could always go round there…I had firearm training."

Elizabeth didn't know whether to laugh or be scared at that comment. Her hand stroked along his chest gently, tickling the soft skin and almost making him shudder. "I appreciate the offer, but you don't need to do that," she said to him. "I'm not in need of some Prince Charming to rescue me from him."

"You think I don't see that?" he asked her, taking her hand from him and holding it in his grasp, folding her fingers over so that he could kiss her knuckles tenderly. "If anything, you're the Evil Queen capable of destroying the kingdom."

Elizabeth moved her hand from his and she hit him gently on the shoulder. He laughed and she noticed the way his eyes creased. "Did you really just call me the Evil Queen?" she checked from him. "I mean, I don't know whether to be flattered or insulted."

"The former," he assured her. "Definitely the former."

"Hmm," she said, not entirely sure if she believed him. "I'm not entirely sure I feel strong enough to burn a kingdom down right now."

"He ruined your plans, didn't he?"

"All of them," she lied. "Now that he knows I'm intending to leave him, he won't let that happen. I just need a little more time to form a new plan."

He didn't want to tell her that he wasn't entirely sure if she would be able to make it that long. He knew how things could escalate, especially with men like her husband. He figured that he had to keep an eye on her now. There were still a few months until things started and the games began. If she could hold on then she'd be out of trouble before she knew it.

"I can help you."

Her brows furrowed. "How?" she asked from him.

"I wanted to say that I knew a really good lawyer, but unfortunately I only know the one and there might be a conflict of interest," he said and despite the seriousness of the situation, she laughed at his comment. "But, in all seriousness, you're welcome here whenever you want to get away. It's more of a base for me than a home."

"I noticed from how there's nothing remotely homely about this place."

"That obvious, huh?"

"It looks like a show home."

"I don't spend a lot of time here," he said. "I travel a lot for work."

"And what do you actually do?" she asked him. "It said that you worked in hospitality on your form."

"Yeah," he nodded. "I basically try to keep a bunch of rich assholes happy."

He guessed that was the basic definition of his job. She laughed again at that and he picked her hand up, letting his fingers toy with hers. "Do you enjoy what you do?" she asked him and he nodded his head.

"For the most part," he said and that was true. There were aspects of his job that he didn't particularly enjoy, but he wasn't going to say that because that meant telling her what it was that he actually did. "It gives me a purpose. I need a job to have a purpose. But the point still stands that you can stay here with no issues and you…well…if you need an alibi then I don't object to you calling me."

"And why would I need an alibi?" she asked, trying to focus on the conversation and not the way he was moving his hand against hers.

"Well, you did mention framing your husband for murder," he recalled.

"That I did," she said.

He didn't push her. He knew that it would do no good, but he wanted to know how. He wanted to know how she was going to do it. Had she actually thought about? Had she put things in place to go through with it? He wasn't entirely sure, but he thought that she had. Then again, she wasn't going to tell him after one night together.

"It was a stupid comment," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"Figured as much," he replied, but he knew it wasn't. He knew that she wasn't telling the truth, but he didn't say anything about that. He just kissed her and knew that he had a reason to stay in the city for a little while longer.

…

She had gone straight back to the office that morning. She was thankful that she always kept a spare dress at the office. She'd learned to do that after she'd gotten in one morning and spilled coffee all over herself. She changed in the bathroom and freshened up. Young-il had let her use the shower at his apartment and she'd come out smelling of his shampoo. He'd inhaled her strands when she'd walked over to him in the kitchen as he made breakfast, an arm slipping around her waist and bringing her by his side and keeping her there as he cooked.

Elizabeth had to admit that it had been strange. He'd made her eggs on sourdough bread and they'd sat at his dining table, eating together like they were a normal, happy couple. He had cleared the plates into the dishwasher, still needing to shower and dress. He'd tugged on a pair of trousers and a blue jumper, his hair mussed up on top of his head. He'd watched her tug her heels onto her feet and shrug into her coat as he loaded the dishwasher. He'd asked her if she wanted to grab dinner that night, but she'd told him that she had to go to some event.

She'd kissed him goodbye and left him alone in his apartment. He'd gone back to his bedroom and found his phone. He scrolled through his contacts and then dialled the familiar number.

"Have you done it?" he asked, forgoing pleasantries.

"I've been following him."

"And?"

"He's up to his eyes in debt he can't pay off. Not even his wife's salary will cover it."

"Do you know where he'll be tonight?"

"I can find out."

"Text me. I think it's time I paid him a visit."

…

To the outside world, Young-il was a respected businessman. He had connections. He had money. He had everything. His old life had been left behind and the people he now liaised with didn't know anything of that. It had been relatively easy to get an invite to the gala taking place that evening. He'd dressed in one of the tuxedos he owned and had set out for the restaurant where it was taking place. A government department was hosting a dinner that evening, no doubt to try and improve relations at home, with businesses, and abroad with other governments. Robert Jacobs was due to attend and his wife was his plus one.

Taking the taxi to the venue, he walked in to the sound of music and laughter. There were waiters carrying trays of champagne. The main entrance hall was filled with people and he could spot the numerous round tables in the function room, covered in white tablecloths with flowers and candles in the middle of them. He was the guest of the CEO of an energy company who funded the games. He knew his true identity, but that was to be expected. They all knew each other in that small circle, but no one would ever say anything.

He picked up a champagne flute from a passing tray, thanking the waitress and then looking around the party. He watched as people made pleasant conversation and then he saw her. She was stood with her husband's arm around her waist, looking every inch his regal wife. She dressed differently than what usually she wore for work. Instead, she was wearing a long red dress. It was silk material and strapless. There was intricate beading on the top of it and he noticed a slit along her leg. Her hair hung in neatly curled waves down her back and over her shoulders. She was holding a champagne flute in both of her hands, eyes flickering between the couple they were talking to.

"You know, you have all these connections and the only time I see you is on the island."

He turned his head to the side and looked at the man next to him. Michael Lee was an American businessman who had made his fortune in the energy business. He was depraved, Young-il knew that much. He also knew that Il-nam had left him a folder on all the VIPs about their illicit dealings in case he ever needed to use it against him.

"I have business to conduct," he replied.

"Related to the games?"

"Of course," he said. "This year, well, let's just say we'll have another VIP."

"Someone else is investing?"

His lips quirked. "Not quite," he replied. "All will become apparent. In the meantime…the loud American over there? A friend of yours?"

Michael chuckled at that, adjusting his bow tie. Young-il placed his hand into his pocket and leant back slightly, knowing that he had to look relaxed. "Not quite," Michael answered. "That's Robert Jacobs. He's a diplomat with the US embassy. Rumour has it he's quite the man around time…enjoys playing away and flittering his money, well, his wife's money. It baffles me sometimes. Why would he play away when he has a wife like that at home?"

"Some men don't know when to stop pushing their luck," Young-il said.

"That's very true," Michael agreed with him.

He wasn't sure how long he mingled with people in the party before their paths finally crossed. He'd been talking with Michael when Robert Jacobs suddenly seemed to materialise in front of them. He was still holding onto his wife, almost like he was showing her off as opposed to looking after her. She almost didn't recognise him to begin with. He could see her do a double take at the sight of him and he wanted to smirk, but he tried to keep his face impassive.

"Ah, Jacobs, good to see you," Michael said and he held his hand out. "It's been a while since you've been down to the club."

"Well, you know how busy the embassy gets," Robert said and Young-il picked up on the deep Southern accent. He shook Michael's hand firmly inside of his. "And business on your end?"

"Well, if the government stopped raising tariffs then I'd be better."

"I'll see what I can do," Robert chuckled.

"And I see your lovely better half is looking as beautiful as ever," Michael said and Young-il spotted the flicker of annoyance over Robert's face as Michael took hold of his wife's hand and kissed the back of it. "Elizabeth, how are you?"

"Glad that the Red Sox are getting beat this season," she answered and Michael laughed again.

"Straight to the heart," Michael said, clutching his chest and pretending to be wounded. "And may I introduce a business colleague of mine: Oh Young-il. He works in the hospitality business…caters to all my client's needs," Michael said and he motioned to the man next to him.

"So…a glorified butler?" Robert asked and Elizabeth inwardly winced. She hated how her husband always tried to put people beneath him. Young-il just smirked, his gaze meeting Robert's and he didn't back down. "I'm joking, of course. Well, we can always use hospitality experts for when we have dignitaries coming to town."

"I'd be glad to provide assistance," he replied, almost wanting to laugh. If only Robert knew what he knew. "And Mrs Jacobs, a pleasure."

Elizabeth tried to keep the smile on her face calm, but she was struggling. What was he doing here? Was he supposed to come here tonight? But he'd asked her for dinner. She hadn't told him where she was going. She hadn't said a word of where she was going to. But this felt more like a plan than a coincidence. What was his game? She pretended she didn't know him and inclined her head as he bowed his towards her.

"A pleasure, sir," she said back to him and he remained quiet as the other two men spoke to each other. He could feel Elizabeth almost glaring a hole into his skull, but he ignored her. They soon parted ways as dinner was served.

Elizabeth and Robert sat near the head of the table by government officials and Young-il kept stealing looks over towards her. He ate the three courses they were served before people began leaving the table. Alcohol started flowing a lot more freely and he kept an eye on things. The table had started to empty, but Robert was still sat there, ignoring his wife and talking to someone on his right-hand side. She was holding her wine glass and looking around distractedly. Her husband finally said something to her and she looked to him, nodding once and then moving to her feet.

Young-il stayed back for a second, but then he excused himself. He followed behind her and saw that she was going to the exit. She waited by the cloakroom for her coat. She pulled the grey woollen coat over her dress and fiddled around with something in her bag as she walked to the doors. She stepped into the fresh air and waited patiently for her driver to come and take her home.

"You know, I find Michael repugnant to spend time with, but he was right, you do look beautiful."

Standing next to her, he scanned up and down the street, hands in his pockets as he pretended to look for a taxi.

"What are you doing here?" she asked from him, not daring to look him in the eye or speak too loudly in case someone overheard and told Robert.

"I told you; I work with some high-profile clients," he said to her.

"And you just so happen to have been invited to the same party as me?"

"It's a small world," he offered.

Elizabeth didn't know whether to believe that or not. He knew that it looked suspicious and so he relented.

"Fine, I never come to these events, but then I looked at the guest list and saw your husband was attending. I figured that meant you'd be here too," he told her. "And after hearing what I heard last night, I guess I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

He watched her seem to soften then, her gaze not as narrowed and she finally looked him in the eye. He didn't comment on how her eyes flickered up and down, drinking in his appearance in the tuxedo. She tugged her coat tightly around her body and folded her arms over her chest.

"I'm fine. I told him I worked late and went early," she said. "He said he wasn't home last night anyway…he told me to leave because he was also leaving on business tonight…flying away for a few nights. I'm not sure I believe him, but I don't care where he goes as long as it's not back to our apartment."

"And is that where you're heading right now?"

"Unless you have any other ideas?"

He chuckled. "I can think of one," he said.

Her car pulled up then and she looked to him before the driver could climb out. "If I don't go home then he'll tell Robert and I can't risk that," Elizabeth said. "Give me an hour."

"I can wait."

He watched her move to the car and thank the driver as he opened the back door for her. She slid into it and let out a deep breath, her stomach working itself into knots in anticipation of what was to come.

…

He had poured himself a glass of scotch when he'd returned home. He'd taken his jacket off and left it draped over the sofa. Undoing his bow tie, it hung loosely around his neck. He paced the length of the living room window, peering at the lights beneath until his buzzer went. He buzzed her into the building and unlocked the door, leaving it ajar. She walked in a couple of minutes later, dressed in a long pleated green skirt with a white shirt, her black coat open around it. She was wearing black ankle boots and had tied her hair into a ponytail.

"I have to say, I am upset that the dress didn't make an appearance," he commented and Elizabeth shut the door, turning the lock.

"I think it might have attracted some attention on the subway," she replied.

He smirked. He guessed she had a point. He placed his glass down and strode confidently towards her, one hand slipping around her waist and pushing her against him while the other curled a finger under her chin and tilted her face up to meet his, kissing her squarely on the mouth. He felt her arms wrap around his neck, fingers tangling into his hair. He gave her a final peck on the lips and twirled a loose strand of her hair by her face around his finger.

"I was watching you tonight."

"Anyone might think you're obsessed with me."

He smiled. "Perhaps I am."

"Understandable, I guess," she replied. "I mean, look at me."

He tugged gently on the strand and smirked. "I did…for the entire night…and your husband. He was more interested in showing you off than talking to you."

"I've gotten used to it," Elizabeth assured him, a hand playing with an end of his bow tie. "You know that you didn't have to come. I can handle things like that. You don't need to look out for me."

"I know that I don't need to," he agreed with her on that point. "But I want to. And you…well…I just wanted to see you again."

Elizabeth had to confess that she wasn't sure what was going on between them. She knew that she was attracted to him. She was aware of that based on the chemistry between them from the previous night. It had been like nothing she'd known or felt before. She knew that an affair was dangerous. It was reckless and had the potential to interfere with her entire plan. But a small part of her wanted to be reckless. She wanted something for herself and he was hers. He was hers and he hadn't judged her for anything she'd told him.

"You know we shouldn't be doing this."

"I know," he said and he did know. He knew how dangerous it was not just for her, but for him too. "But tell me, what have you been thinking about all day?"

Elizabeth wasn't sure she wanted to admit that her day had mostly been spent working and being distracted by him. Whenever she played with her hair, she could smell his shampoo and then she would think about the previous night and how she'd been pinned beneath him, hearing him pant in her ear and tell her how good she felt. And then she'd get all hot and bothered, shifting in her chair uncomfortably.

"Figured as much," he said when she didn't respond.

She nudged him in the shoulder. "Don't get cocky."

"My point still stands," he said, "because I've been thinking about you all day too."

He bent down and kissed her again, motion gentle and tender.

"And sometimes…a little danger isn't a bad thing, Elizabeth," he spoke against her lips.

…

She woke up at about five a.m. her mouth dry and her limbs aching. She tried to stretch, hoping that might relieve some of the pressure. She let her eyes open, adjusting to the dark and it took her a second to remember that she wasn't in her apartment. She could just about make out shapes in the room of furniture and she knew that she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, needing to use the bathroom. She tried to be as quiet as possible, pushing the duvet back from her body and climbing from bed. He didn't seem to stir next to her and she glanced over her shoulder to look back down to him. He was still sleeping soundly.

Quietly, she left the bedroom and found the bathroom. She shivered in the cold considering she was naked. She quickly flushed the toilet and washed her hands. Looking at her face in the mirror above the sink, she tucked her hair behind her ears. Her face was blotchy, her make up completely ruined. She washed her face as thoroughly as possible, seeing her pale expression looking back at herself.

"What the hell are you doing, Elizabeth?" she muttered to herself.

She could risk everything she'd worked so hard for in a few days. It was reckless. It was careless. She was so close to being able to get out and here she was, having an affair with a man she hardly knew anything about. The only thing she knew was that she was drawn to him. She was attracted to him and she couldn't help herself from wanting him. It had been so long since she'd actually wanted someone, but he'd walked into that bar and she couldn't help herself. She longed for him. She hadn't been wanted in years, not like he seemed to want her. It was consuming her. It was all she could think about.

She wondered if she really could trust him. She didn't think he was a spy for her husband. Robert wasn't that clever and besides, he had what he wanted from Elizabeth. He had her money, or so he thought. She wasn't good enough for anything else now.

Trying to push away any doubts she had, Elizabeth wondered if she could just accept this for what it was: two adults attracted to each other. She wondered if there had been anyone in his life since his wife. He hadn't said and she wasn't going to ask him. It wasn't really any of her business. She wondered, however. He didn't seem like the type of man who did this often. He seemed far too, almost reserved, in a sense.

Swilling her mouth out with water, Elizabeth took some of his mouth wash and then used that. Turning the tap off, she finally left the bathroom and headed towards the bedroom again.

"You okay?"

He almost made her jump. She thought that he would still be asleep, but his husky voice came from the bed. Elizabeth folded her arms over herself, not entirely sure why she was trying to preserve her modesty. "Yeah, I just need the bathroom…it's pretty cold too…"

Walking to the other side of the bed, she wondered what he was doing as he got out. He moved to his wardrobe, opening it and reaching for his blue flannel robe. He stepped towards her and held it out. "Here," he urged from her. He helped her slip her arms into it, pulling her hair from underneath the collar. Grabbing the belt around the middle, he turned her around to face him and tied it up, keeping the material snugly against her.

"Thanks," she said. His robe smelt like his cologne mixed in with washing powder. He nodded at her and quickly kissed her, tasting mint on her lips and he guessed she'd freshened up in the bathroom. She moved a hand to his shoulders, running along the skin slowly and she wondered if she should bring up the scar. But he saw the way her eyes flickered to it and he moved a hand from her waist to her cheek, stroking her hair with his fingertips.

"I was shot," he answered the unspoken question.

"When?" Elizabeth asked him, stroking the puckered skin.

"It feels like a long time ago," he said and that was true. It felt like a lifetime had gone by since he'd seen his brother. He missed him. He missed him more than anything, but he couldn't admit that. He couldn't go back to his previous life. "It doesn't hurt."

"Must've been scary," Elizabeth said. No doubt she imagined that it had happened when he'd been a police officer.

"I've learned that there are worse things than fearing death," he whispered and Elizabeth looked at him, just about making out the way his eyes flickered over her face in the dark. He leaned down and pecked her lips. "Come on, it's still early."

He got back into bed, dragging Elizabeth by the hand and giving her no choice but to follow. She gladly laid in his arms though, resting there with her eyes closed until she fell asleep again and he heard her breathing shallow. He stayed awake, finding himself unable to sleep again. The wound in his shoulder, despite not hurting him for months, had suddenly started to throb.

...

A/N: Would love to know if anyone is reading!