Page 67 of Her Fearless Warrior

“I’m sixty-seven. I’ve devoted over forty years to this company, and before my husband died, I had something they now call work-life balance. When you met me in Syria, I was normally working sixty to seventy hours a week. I have two grandchildren who hardly recognize me, but sure as hell recognize their other grandmother.” Katherine took a sip of water. “Well, I’ll tell you, our time in Syria was a wake-up call. I’ve got a do-over, and I’m making the most of it.”

Leila frowned. How much had she changed since Syria? Except for dating Linc, and not taking iffy translation assignments, her life was pretty much the same as it always was.

“What has you thinking so hard?” Katherine asked.

“I’m trying to think if I have made any life-altering decisions since Syria. I’m not sure that I have and I’m thirty-one.”

“And there’s your answer. You're thirty-six years younger than I am. You have your whole life ahead of you to live, love, and try new things. It’s going to be so exciting.”

Their server came with their food, and Leila dug in. She was still pondering the do-over revelation when Katherine brought up Elijah.

“I was sorry to hear that he passed. I actually heard about it from my assistant, Annie. She sets Google alerts for me about people I’m interested in. I have one on you too, of course.”

Leila nodded. “Elijah and my dad go way back; he was actually my godfather.”

“Oh, honey, seeing him dragged away like that in Syria, and then having him die, must have been heart-wrenching.”

“It was. But like my dad always said, Elijah always enjoyed knowing he was making the world a better place.”

“And he did. Ultimately, he got those prisoners free.”

Leila frowned. “What are you talking about? The CIA took back the diamonds. They were never delivered. How could the prisoners be free?”

“It was announced on CNN a month ago that our ambassador had negotiated for their release. I’d just assumed that somehow Elijah’s plan had worked, even after everything that had happened.”

“No, it couldn’t have. I was the only oth—” Leila stopped herself. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Katherine, it was just that her father was FBI and her godfather used to be CIA; she knew better than to share too many secrets.

“Honey, you don’t have to tell me anything.”

Leila smiled at that. “I appreciate you saying that. Actually, that’s a time I’d actually prefer to forget.”

“I can’t.”

“Oh no, do you have nightmares?” Leila asked.

“No. Not at all. You just pop up in my mind a lot. I couldn’t have made it without you. I flew to DC to come and see you. When we parted in Syria, I never had a chance to tell you thank you for what you’d done for me. Thank you, Leila. Thank you for saving my life.”

Leila felt her cheeks heat.

Is this how Linc feels every time I thank him? A little uncomfortable, but kind of proud?

“Katherine. I want to thank you. There is no other person I would have preferred being stuck in a hole with.”

* * *

Leila hit the garage door opener and slid her car next to Linc’s truck. It still felt odd, not only having a key to someone else’s house, but the garage door opener. She would have thought it was rushing the relationship, except the one time she showed up and he wasn’t there she had no way to get in. She’d checked her messages and found a text had come in when she was already en route, saying that he had overnight training and would not be there. Linc gave her the key and the remote after that.

She got out and popped the trunk. Linc was already out the garage door from the kitchen and headed her way.

“You know I’m the same person who put my luggage in my car, don’t you?” she asked as he plucked her suitcase, backpack, and laptop case out of the trunk.

“You’re funny.” He smiled down at her. He then followed her up the steps and into his kitchen. As soon as the garage door was closed, he put the laptop bag on the counter, dropped the luggage, and grabbed her.

She’d been waiting for this. Waiting far too fricking long for this. Linc bent and settled his lips on hers, enticing her to open up. She did, needing his taste. That first thrust of his tongue made her tighten her grip on him so that she wouldn’t fall down. His hand was up the back of her sweater and her skin heated wherever he touched. Her bra felt itchy as they sampled and savored one another after being parted for six weeks.

He pulled back.

“Have you eaten?”