Phoebe's POV
I felt an overwhelming wave of guilt wash over me. This entire situation had absolutely nothing to do with Harold. I had deliberately let myself get kidnapped to draw out the person pulling the strings. Harold bore no responsibility for any of this, yet I'd terrified him completely.
I slipped onto Harold's lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. "How could this possibly be your fault? This has nothing to do with you—it's my mess. I was just trying to outsmart them and catch whoever's really behind this... Mm?"
Before I could get the words out, Harold silenced me again. This time, his lips found mine in a tender, calming kiss while he pulled me close against him.
When he finally released me, Harold spoke softly. "You don't have to explain anything. I already knew it all."
I stared at him, blinking in shock. "You knew? You knew I let them take me on purpose?"
He nodded.
"And you knew I was putting on an act with the fake tears and playing helpless?" I pressed.
