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And she looked at him with love shining from her pale blue eyes, turning them into stars. She never said the words, but he could live without them. They were just words. That didn’t mean he didn’t say the words to her—he did. Every chance he had. Knowing in some deep recess of his brain Cate desperately needed to hear the words she couldn’t say. Someday, when he’d convinced her she was loved—that she was worthy of being loved—she’d trust him enough to say the words to him. He knew it.
Cate was constantly on his mind, but she wasn’t the only thing on his mind. His conscience was troubling him, too.
He’d never killed a man with vengeance in his heart. Although he hadn’t felt exactly the same way since, it bothered him—a lot—that he’d had those thoughts about Aleksandrov Vishenko the other night. He wanted to believe he was a better man than that. But he kept hearing Cody’s voice in his head as he confessed what he’d done when Keira was shot. And he heard himself telling Cate, “...we’re only human...when someone we love is hurt, we want to hurt back...”
All he could do was pray he’d never be put to the test. Pray he’d never come face-to-face with the man who’d hurt Cate so grievously. Because he didn’t know what he’d do.
* * *
Cate sat on the cabin’s front porch steps, watching as Liam and Callahan walked the clearing’s perimeter. She could have gone with them—neither man would have objected—but she wouldn’t have known what she was looking for the way the two men did, and she would probably have slowed them down.
Nick D’Arcy was right, she thought now. Ryan Callahan’s the best at this sort of thing. Liam had shown her the traps Callahan had rigged, admiration evident in his voice and on his face as he explained what each item was for. But Liam’s the best, too. No one could be more protective. No one could keep me safe the way he can.
She sighed softly. More than a week was gone. Liam had less than two weeks of his vacation left, and though he’d repeatedly assured her he wasn’t leaving, they couldn’t stay here forever, even if he didn’t have a job to go back to. She’d already heard from D’Arcy via Callahan that the new trial date had been set. In a little less than three weeks she would be in a courtroom in Washington, DC. Face-to-face with Aleksandrov Vishenko and the other conspirators. And the new prosecutors wanted to meet with her ahead of time, so they could prep her testimony. Which meant heading back to DC two weeks from now.
She was terrified of testifying. Not because of Vishenko, but because Liam would know—as the whole world would know—the kind of woman she really was. Angelina had warned her—Alec, too—that the defense attorneys would do everything they could to discredit her. That they would rip her character to shreds if they could. So of course they’d try to make something out of the fact she hadn’t literally been a prisoner the entire two years she’d been with Vishenko. They’d do their best to convince the jury she’d been Vishenko’s willing mistress. That he’d dumped her. And that she was trying to get revenge on him by lying in court.
She rested her head against her knees. You have to tell Liam, her conscience told her sternly. You can’t let him find out when everyone else does.
Two more weeks, she begged her conscience. Just two more weeks. Is that too much to ask? Two weeks to be happy for once. Two weeks with the man I—
Even in her thoughts she couldn’t use the word. But it was there. And it hurt. Because even though she’d sworn she wouldn’t risk one more thing, she had. She’d risked the only thing she had left to lose. And when she told Liam the truth, when he walked away, he’d take her heart with him. Leaving her with nothing.
* * *
Nick D’Arcy leaned back in his leather seat in the cabin of Vishenko’s Learjet and shook his head. “No. I don’t think so. It’s not foolproof.”
Vishenko cursed in Russian, then said in English, “It is not your call to make.”
D’Arcy smiled coldly. “It is when I haven’t told you where she is.”
Vishenko clenched his jaw. “You will tell me. I will pay you the ten million you want, and you will tell me where she is. My men will take it from there.”
“Not a chance. You want Caterina Mateja dead—and I don’t blame you. If you don’t kill her, if she lives to testify, you’re going down. For life. But she’s guarded. There’s no way your men will get past her protectors—I know these men, and I’m telling you, no way. The only way for this to work is for me to arrange it. For the ten million you offered, I’ll take you to her, and I’ll get her alone. After that, it’s up to you.”
