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‘I think that if anyone can make it work, you can.’
He’d stood in front of the head of special intelligence only a few days ago and the older man, upon hearing Lena’s name, had questioned what she would bring to a team in her current state.
Heart. She would have brought that.
‘Management asked me to put together a black ops team the other day. If I’d have done so you’d have been in it. No—correction. I’d have asked you to be in it.’
Her smile faded.
‘I turned the offer down. Didn’t want it. Would you have wanted it?’
She looked at him for a long time and then slowly shook her head. ‘No. Once upon a time, hell yes. But, no—not any more.’
‘Then I guess I did the right thing.’
‘I guess you did.’
She studied him intently, as if she couldn’t quite get a good read on him, and it shattered him to know how closed-off he’d become these past two years—even to family.
‘So how does it feel to be free of it?’
He looked out over the ocean and thought of the days he’d just experienced. The stirrings of a new beginning in them … and a woman he’d never forget.
‘Feels good.’
Lena’s smile was blinding and her hug was fierce, and then she fell back and let him find his footing when it came to all the pesky emotions running through him.
‘Lunch? I need to investigate the mustard colour further. And the fittings. Bring the Esky.’
She disappeared down the hatch completely this time, and all he heard then was her voice—no visual to go with it—but it made him laugh regardless.
‘Seriously?’ Her voice had risen an octave. ‘You bought a yacht with purple floral curtains?’
‘Told you the owners weren’t sailors.’
‘Yes, but you’ve been sailing this poor wee boat for how long? And you haven’t yet taken them down yet?’
‘I’ve been preoccupied.’
He hadn’t actually registered them as offensive—just unnecessary—and with the absence of anywhere to toss them … He started down the steps and found half the curtains and their strings already on the ground.
‘You’d better not be touching my half. I like them.’
‘You do not.’
The rest of them were down before he even had the food on the bench and his sister stood, hands on her hips, surveying the interior of the yacht—which admittedly seemed much brighter now.
‘Much better. I’m even warming to the mustard leather. At least the walls are white.’
Not everywhere. ‘Bedrooms are that way,’ he said with a tilt of his head—and waited for her reaction.
She looked. ‘Oh, for the love of— Someone skinned a spotted cow and draped it all over your bedroom.’
‘You mean your bedroom. I took the other one.’
‘Oh, no. No way. She who paid her half first gets first choice of the bedrooms.’
She opened the door to the other bedroom and Jared didn’t have to wait long at all for her screech.
That bedroom had purple and mustard walls with black and white hatbox trim. And a lime-green shag pile carpet. The second bedroom was awesome.
‘This isn’t a yacht—it’s a sideshow palace,’ she said, turning to flick him a quick grin. ‘I can’t believe you bought it.’
‘It had been on the market for a while. Do you love it? I love it.’
‘We’re getting Ruby in. This is beyond me. I know my limits.’
There were a lot of limits in place these days. Many of them learned the hard way.
‘She sails well,’ he said of the yacht. ‘Like an angel.’
‘What a good girl. Does she sail now?’
And that was how they ended up moored off Green Island, swimming from boat to beach, later that afternoon.
Lena lay in the shallows, content to be buffeted by gentle waves. Jared sat next to her and wondered at the inner peace that he’d somehow found between one day and the next. Walking away from his job. Sleeping with a woman he’d connected with on a level that had left him wrung out and craving more.
‘What do you think of Rowan Farringdon?’
Lena lifted her head to look at him. ‘In what capacity?’
‘For me.’
Long black lashes swept down over her sister’s eyes. ‘Well, she’s not dumb.’
‘But?’
‘Is it even possible for someone in her position to have a decent relationship? A sharing and caring one, with someone who’s not involved in that world any more?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Is that the kind of relationship you even want?’
He shrugged and she splashed him with water—a great swathe of it, driven by her outstretched arm.
