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The water laps around us as our lips meet. He kisses me like he always does, firmly, passionately, demanding, taking. Our tongues slide together as the waves rise and fall, moving us slowly in a rocking motion. I feel the dark waters just at the line of my lower back. I taste the salt on Cal’s tongue as his warm, strong hands touch me, hold me, lift me against him.

“Cal,” I whisper, tightening my hold on his shoulders.

His skin is against my face. I can smell his delicious scent of citrus and cedar and him. My Cal… His strong arms are around me, and it’s the most wonderfully secure I’ve felt in my entire embattled existence.

I want to kiss him again, but he speaks. “Yes, my love. I’ve got you.”

My stomach flashes at the sound. My eyes fly open, and it’s not a dream. I’m in his arms. Cal is holding me against his chest. One arm is around my back and one is beneath my legs. It’s dark, and he’s carrying me into the trees.

We’re moving fast, and I’m crying. I’m holding his neck, and my body shudders with joy and relief and sobbing. I didn’t know it was possible to feel this way, as if my insides are spilling out from my eyes. I can’t speak. I can’t stop crying. I can only hold him and weep as he carries me out of this place, away from the nightmare.

“Don’t cry, my love,” he soothes, but I hear the break in

his voice. “I have you. You’re safe now.”

We’re on the path I took that day so long ago when I found the beach and the baths. Someone is with us, and when we reach the beach, Cal lowers my legs to stand while catches his breath. One strong arm holds me firmly against his torso.

“Is she okay?” I recognize Logan’s voice.

Cal has me in his arms. My face is pressed against his neck, and I can’t let him go. I haven’t let him go since I woke up to find him here. I’m almost afraid to look around or speak in case this is all a dream and it fades. I’m not sure I could take that.

“She’s going to be okay,” Cal says, and joy vibrates in my bones. It’s not a dream! “Let’s get her to the boat.”

22

Covert Ops

Cal

We’ve been in Tortola two days, and I haven’t been able to get the image of Zee and the pregnancy test out of my mind. Logan convinced me to stay here, let the men we’ve hired search the islands for her, but everything I touch here reminds me of Zee.

I was such a shit to her. I was so angry. Sitting on the bed, I clutch my head in my hands as regret racks my insides. “When I find you, Zelda Wilder, I’m never letting you go.”

My phone rings, and I snatch it up. Rowan is calling.

“What’s up, Ro?” I’m desperate for word, especially now with August first looming.

Our men have been searching. We’re playing with fire, and I’m ready to say screw the detectives, forget the plans. I’ll find her myself.

“Ava thinks she has the coordinates for Zee.”

I’m off the bed and throwing open drawers at once. “How? Where did she find them?”

“Ever since the pregnancy test and Seth’s murder, she’s dedicated herself to finding the leak at Occitan. She hasn’t left the estate. She’s followed the staff, sneaked into their rooms…”

I hear the pride in his voice, and I can only imagine my beautiful, future sister-in-law invading our seaside estate.

“What happened?”

“It was Juliana.”

I almost drop the phone. “Nesbitt’s niece?” I think of the mousey girl who dropped out of school and moved in with our housekeeper last spring.

“Ava noticed she was obsessed with Seth’s disappearance. She sneaked into her room and found several texts from Hines on the girl’s phone.”

“Skip ahead,” I demand. “Where is Zelda?”

“The coordinates are fifteen point seven thousand north, sixty-three point six three-three west. Hines must have known they were coming for him He told Juliana to give you those coordinates if anything happened to him.”

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