Agent Rogue: Espionage

Chapter 10

With everything unpacked, I traipsed around the chateau in search of Derek, kicking up dust and stepping over broken beams and crumbling chunks of rubble. Scotty was right; this place was a dump, but an interesting one, at least. Every nook and cranny held its own history, the cracks, scratches and shards telling a thousand stories – an archaeologist's dream, I realised.

          I found him in the largest room located at the back of the building. Tan and black tiles matched the chateau's vestibule, but this room curved at the opposite end of the entrance to centre large windows lined in twisting, patterned gold, the edges hugged by white, lightweight drapes.

          I glanced around at the shapes coated in sheets; sofas, tables pushed to the walls, and a hidden piano. From what I could make out, this used to be a ballroom.

          My lips twitched at an old memory – one of willow chandeliers and crashing waves – then I smiled. Only, this time, it lacked the pretentious air and judgemental stares. Those things were irrelevant in history, and only furniture remained.

          Movement from the right made me turn. Derek was brushing dust from an old painting alone, carefully stroking the renaissance artwork; a sun setting over a city of white stone.

          He smiled over his shoulder and continued to sweep away the dust. "I didn't hear you come in."
"Clearly. Having fun with the artwork?"
He looked me up and down with a sideward grin. "Yeah. She's not so bad."
I rolled my eyes and looked away. "I don't remember your pick-up lines ever being so terrible as they are now."
"I don't know—" He shrugged. "You've pulled that exact same expression to every single one of them."

          I held back a smile of my own while he stepped over the rubble to join me, glancing around excitedly.

          "How beautiful is this room?"
I nodded. "Very. But I thought you didn't like the rest of the chateau."
"No, Scotty was right. The rest of this place is a mess but this room..." He took a step back, marvelling at it. "There's something familiar about it. Like—" He paused, and a low laugh rumbled from within him upon realisation. "Yeah, I remember."

          I cast my eyes over the ballroom, somehow reminiscent of a place I had never visited.

          Derek's own were on me. "Dance with me."
I sighed. "Derek—"
"No, thank you?" He raised a brow at my glare. "I can read you like a book, Knight."
"Sorry. It's—" I shifted on my feet. "It's just... I don't know."
He nudged my arm then played soft music from his phone; a gentle rock song I had heard a thousand times before. "Doors are shut. We're in the middle of nowhere. No-one else. Just me and you. Please?"

          Hesitantly, I gazed over my shoulder, pondering the closed doors.

          Derek outstretched an eager hand, dimples sinking with a tight-lipped grin. "You wouldn't deny a man his childhood dream of slow-dancing to his favourite song, would you?"
I bit my cheek, shaking my head to what I realised was the beat of his favourite song. "I suppose I can't say no to a face like that."
"No, you can't."

          I took his hand with a sigh and let the other fall to my waist. With one final glance at the door, I focussed my attention on him, heart beating like a drum. No-one else, I reminded myself. Just me and him. No-one else could see.

          We stepped and turned in time, following the melody of a guitar riff Derek always hummed when bored. I watched our feet, seeing them sweep away the floor of dust in our own unique pattern among the history. My nerves had me on edge, reluctant to look at him until he spoke.