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Vengeance, he realized with a sense of shock. That’s what Cody felt when Keira was shot. That’s what I want. Vengeance.
He reeled mentally. He didn’t want to believe it about himself...but it was the truth. He wanted vengeance. Not justice. Vengeance. Exactly what he’d condemned in his brother-in-law, that’s what he was feeling.
Then he suppressed that thought ruthlessly. Pushed it out of his mind to consider later, because he had something more important to do at this moment.
He leveraged himself easily into a sitting position, then cradled Cate’s face in his hands and kissed her gently on the lips, waiting for her eyes to meet his. “I will never hurt you, Cate,” he promised. “Never. I proved it just now, didn’t I?” When she didn’t answer, he insisted, “Didn’t I?”
She smiled again, a tremulous smile that was its own reward. “Yes,” she agreed. “You did.”
He knew it wasn’t enough. But it was a start. He’d shown her last night she was capable of sexual pleasure. Tonight he’d demonstrated a man could find pleasure with a woman without hurting her. But it was a far cry from what he ultimately wanted with Cate. For her. Hell no, not just for her, for himself, too. He wanted it all...for both of them.
He sighed mentally, but didn’t let it show on his face. Instead, he drew Cate down to the bed with him and pulled the sheet over them as he settled her in the crook of his arm. “Warm enough?” he asked.
“Mmm-hmm.” She nodded for emphasis.
“Okay if I hold you like this?” Naked, was what he meant. Needing to know if she preferred he put his T-shirt and boxers back on. Needing to know if she was even the slightest bit uncomfortable with him naked.
She snuggled her cheek against his chest, and slid her hand down until it was nestled against his bare hip. “Please.”
He smiled in the darkness. One step at a time, he reminded himself with a patience that didn’t come naturally to him—he had to fight for it. One baby step at a time.
* * *
Aleksandrov Vishenko’s Learjet landed in the same private airport in Arlington, Virginia, where it had landed four days before. Again he was early, which was par for the course with Vishenko. Meticulous planning had always ensured success...even when it came to murder.
The sun was setting, and he pulled down the window shade to block the dying sun’s rays, waiting with as much patience as he could muster—hard-won patience given the past four days with no word from Nick D’Arcy—and reviewing his plan in his mind, looking for weaknesses.
Item one: pay D’Arcy the bribe and learn Caterina Mateja’s whereabouts. Item two: dispatch his chief brigadier to dispose of her. The job wouldn’t normally be handled by a man that high in the Bratva ranks, but Vishenko was taking no chances. Caterina had to die now, and he couldn’t take the risk she would slip through his fingers again. Item three: recover the bribe. Ten million dollars was a lot of money. He might as well get the money back if he could. Item four: kill Nick D’Arcy in a way that would not only give him the revenge he craved for what D’Arcy had put him through, but would expose the chinks in the agency’s armor. How good could they be if they couldn’t even keep the head of their agency safe?
The agency had been riding high these past few years. Unknown to the general public, but fast becoming the darling of US law enforcement. D’Arcy’s assassination would send shock waves through the entire law enforcement community, not just the agency. And Caterina’s death would have the added bonus of sending a chilling message to anyone who was considering betraying him. It wasn’t the first time he’d sent such a message—and it wouldn’t be the last.
* * *
Four days after Cate had made love to him, Liam was still reiterating in his mind what he’d told himself then—one baby step at a time.
They’d made progress. He touched Cate constantly now. Natural touches—holding her hand as they hiked the trails around the cabin, touching her arm to draw attention to a doe and her fawn beside the river’s edge, taking the dishes from her as she washed and he dried. Kissing her on impulse—light kisses, not passionate ones, but kisses all the same. And she touched him, too. Maybe not quite as often, but just as naturally. She’d never again kissed him first, though. But she had responded when he’d kissed her. Shyly to start out with, but eventually the shyness had given way to something more. It was the something more that gave him hope.
They’d shared the same bed too, every night. They hadn’t made love, but Cate had slept in his arms. And at no point had she panicked. At no point had she been afraid of him. He wanted more, but he fought down his desire. Cate wasn’t ready for more—not yet. When she was, he would know.
