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He’d known there would be a confrontation—nothing could ever be peaceful or calm with Indy—but a passionate kiss, a counterfeit engagement, a knife fight in an alleyway... It wasn’t like him to become embroiled in scandals he didn’t expressly create for his own purposes.
Only one person in the entire world held the power to push his control so far off its axis: Indy.
When they were children hunting for buried treasure in fields, he’d dreamed of traveling the world and discovering new antiquities with her by his side—his fearless companion.
He’d also believed that fathers could never be murdered, that life was filled with hope, and that good always triumphed over evil in the end.
Once upon a time he’d even believed in love. And love had seemed so simple to describe—a pair of light grayish-purple eyes, a quick smile, and an even quicker wit.
Now she’d sharpened that intellect of hers to a dangerous weapon.
If he weren’t careful, she’d slice right through the veil separating his two lives.
He’d suggested she teach him how to use a knife so that he could assess her current skill level. She’d been extremely adept, with quick reflexes and a sophisticated understanding of how to best someone of superior strength.
Pretending to be inept with a dagger had proven surprisingly difficult for him, though. When she lunged for his chest every instinct he’d honed to deadly precision had leapt to the fore and it had taken every ounce of his control to feign a clumsy defense.
He’d been trained in the art of knife fighting on these very grounds, as well as the arts of fencing, bare-knuckle boxing, and other hand-to-hand combat styles.
He could have had Indy on the ground in three seconds flat.
Stretched beneath him, soft curves and muffled curses.
Arms pinned above her head. Entirely at his mercy.
You’d like that, wouldn’t you?
Gods, he was a fool. He never should have gone to Banksford’s house looking for her. He’d only wanted to protect her.
Wrong.
If he were tied to a chair and his interrogator were torturing him and he supplied an answer as flimsy as that, he’d receive a lash across his back or his chest... or some other more sensitive area.
Wrong. Try again. Why did you go to see her today?
Because I wanted to talk to her. Because sometimes I go for years only catching brief glimpses of her and I wanted more.
Better. But what did you want exactly?
I wanted... I want... her.
In his arms, his bed, by his side... he’d always wanted her.
“The scar appears to be healing nicely and the bullet was removed cleanly,” said the doctor. “You’re a very lucky man.”
“I don’t believe in luck.”
“Then believe that the Almighty has a purpose left for you, for he surely saved you from bleeding to death on the streets of Athens.”
“In a church,” said Raven.
“Pardon?”
“I nearly bled to death in a church. The brethren ministered to my wounds.”
Everything had been going well until the night he met Jones in the public plaza. The ambush had taken them completely by surprise.
It had been a sunny afternoon. A public square.
