Burned Hearts (7 page)

“I didn't. Kyle helped me out of the sticky situ—” My mouth clamped shut.

Oops.

Dane glowered. “That's just fucking great, Ari. Is there any job of mine he's not trying to take over?”

I thought of our confrontation in the kitchen earlier, at the estate. Kyle had told me he loved me. That had been a doozie of a revelation. Though perhaps all along I'd sort of suspected his feelings ran that deep. Likely the reason I'd been so adamant about us being
just friends
and doing everything in my power not to lead him on.

Yet it could be that all of the life-threatening and intense scenarios we'd found ourselves in for the past year had bonded us in a way that had taken his infatuation with me to a higher level.

I didn't dare mention that to Dane, though. I knew better. No need to jeopardize Kyle's health further.

“He was persuasive with her,” I said. “Pretty creative, actually. I guess that's why he was so good in your Marketing department. Sadly, I can't convince him to find another position in that field, maybe in Phoenix. Away from all of this.”

Dane grimaced at my cover-up. He was always on to me. But he let his angst over how close Kyle and I were slide—for the moment.

“I ought to convince him to extract himself from our dilemma,” Dane said, “but he has proven … invaluable.”

My head jerked back. “Wow. Did you really just say that?”

“Don't be a smart-ass.” He pressed his lips to mine and kissed me in that territorial way that made me burn. His tongue swept inside, over mine, twisting and tangling. Exciting me.

I wanted nothing more at that moment than to strip down and show him exactly how much he thrilled me. But the man had been shot less than twelve hours ago. He needed his rest.

So I reticently pulled away. “You should sleep.”

He leaned toward me and nipped at my bottom lip. “I'll recover just fine.”

“With some rest,” I insisted. “You either behave, or I'll sleep in another room.” Lord knew we had plenty of them.

“You wouldn't.”

Okay, he called my bluff. He understood how difficult it was for me to sleep without him by my side. If he had work in the middle of the night, I always woke when I subconsciously sensed his absence. I'd snuggle on the sofa with him, in front of the fire, and sleep while he was on the phone with Nikolai in Russia or Sultan Hakim in the Persian Gulf.

Thus, my threat was basically useless. Still, I held my ground. “Do as I say.”

He chuckled. “Only because it's so sexy when you're demanding.”

“Don't mess with me.”

“Right.” He grinned.

I swatted playfully at his uninjured arm. “And don't patronize me.”

“Why don't you crawl in here,” he said as he scooted to the other side of the bed so I could slip under the covers. I curled against his side, resting my head on his good shoulder.

“Are you in pain?”

“I'm too angry for that to even register right now.”

“Maybe you should take something to knock you out.” Knowing him, his mind would whirl all night long with thoughts of retaliation and how he was going to help the FBI ensure there were five convictions at the end of the day—the Honorable Bryn Hilliard (what a crock that title was), Dr. Lennox Avril, Anthony Casterelli, former prime minister Keaton Wellington III, and Admiral Robert Bent.

Six, if there was some way to prove Wayne Horton was Vale's minion and carried out his near-fatal work.

“I'll be fine,” Dane told me. “I just need you here with me.”

I kissed his neck, my lips gliding along his throat, down to that pulse point at the base, just above his collarbone, that I adored pressing my lips to. “I couldn't love you more,” I whispered against his skin. “You know that, right?”

“Ari.” He let out a long breath. His arm tightened around my shoulders. “You are
everything
to me. There are no words for how much I love you—how destroyed I'd be without you. If things had gone differently this morning—”

“But they didn't. You're to thank for that. And Kyle, too. Dane, he wouldn't let anything happen to me if he could help it. You have to accept that and maybe not be so grumpy with him.”

He let out a half snort.

“Fine. Maybe just let him know that you trust him with my safety.”

“I've thanked him,” Dane countered.

“And offered him money. Which I appreciate, by the way.”

“He's operating out of a sense of duty toward you. Probably wished like hell Tom would have taken the shot he had with me this morning so I'd be out of his way.”

“That's not true. He knows I'd be a lost cause without you. He's already experienced that. He understands you're it for me.” That, of course, made it more agonizing to think of Kyle's earlier declaration. But when we were past all the danger and justice was served, he'd get over me.

When I had Dane's baby and he saw our son and how this intimate connection strengthened our bond, he'd get over me.

When Dane and I were finally, totally together … he'd get over me.

He
would
get over me.

The crazy thing about me trying to convince myself of this was that I'd reached the point where Kyle had become such a vital part of my life—of my life with Dane, even—that I couldn't imagine what our world would be like after the bad guys were in prison, we were all safe, and he no longer had to play secondary hero/bodyguard.

Where would he go from here? The Secret Service?

I winced inwardly. I didn't like the idea of him purposely putting himself in hazardous situations. Nor did I relish the idea of him leaving our little brood.

It was a complicated predicament all the way around. One I couldn't help but grind over as Dane and I lay in the dark, each tangled in our own thoughts, yet so highly aware of each other.

His fingertips tenderly grazed my bare arm, making my skin tingle. My fingers skated slowly, seductively, over his cut abs. Were I to slide them lower, I knew I'd find him hard and wanting me. The sexual pull between us was a powerful one, even if the emotional turmoil brewed steadily.

As much as I also wanted him, though, it was critical that he slept. Not that I expected him to, but I wouldn't hinder his healing. So I closed my eyes and tried to clear my mind. Tried to concentrate on his breathing, listening carefully, making sure it remained strong and stable.

It took quite some time, but eventually I gave in to the exhaustion created by the harrowing day. I managed to sleep soundly.

Because of Dane.

Because of Amano.

Because of Kyle.

 

chapter 4

Dr. Forrester arrived first thing in the morning to check on Dane. Amano escorted him into the bedroom and I settled on the sofa during the exam, breathing several sighs of relief at the nods of approval and “looking goods” from the physician. Dane, however, wore an impatient expression.

He thought he was invincible. After everything he'd been through, I sort of suspected the same. That did not keep me from worrying about him.

When the doctor was done, I left Dane with his laptop, because there was no stopping his insatiable need to continue his work. I joined Kyle in the kitchen as he prepped breakfast. My eyes nearly rolled into the back of my head with his perfectly executed eggs Benedict. He'd make some woman deliriously happy one of these days. I just hoped he accepted soon that it wouldn't be me.

Although, again, the thought of him leaving us was a tricky one to reconcile. Not that I had to resolve it this very moment. We were all still caught in the crosshairs and he'd proven he wasn't going anywhere until all of this was said and done.

We had another visitor after lunch. Ethan Evans. He was the brilliant Harvard economics professor who'd recruited Dane into the Illuminati faction. Ethan was now retired from the university. He and Dane were close friends, and Dane had considered him a crucial mentor as he'd shaped his business goals.

Ethan was a good-natured sort with salt-and-pepper hair. Attractive, well dressed, refined. I always enjoyed his combination of impeccable manners and off-the-cuff jokes.

“You look wonderful, Ari,” he told me with a kiss on the cheek.

“It's so nice to see you, Ethan. It's been much too long.”

“Your husband has been busy. Just keep in mind that if there's ever anything you need, Jackson and I are both here for you.”

“For which I am eternally grateful.” I gave him a quick hug.

Ethan and our lawyer had been in on the secret wedding ceremony, along with Amano, Kyle, and my dad. My dear friend Tamera Fenmore had officiated, and Rosa had served during the reception and dinner. That'd been it. Seven people to bear witness to the most important and perfect day of my life.

Too bad that perfection had been shattered less than a month later. And we still hadn't put all the pieces back together.

Truthfully, I wasn't sure how we ever would.…

I shook that dismal thought from my head as Dane and Ethan took their intense discussion of what had transpired the day before at the estate into Dane's office. An hour or so later, I delivered a decanter of brandy and snifters. They were in the middle of a conversation about the hard drive Dane couldn't get to in Switzerland.

“It's still not public knowledge that I'm alive,” he said. “I need to keep it that way for as long as possible. So my passport isn't worth shit. And given everything that's happened in the last twenty-four hours, I can't rely on help from the network to get me out of the States and into Europe. Not to mention, the bank would likely consider me an imposter if I showed up with my key.”

I set the crystal on Dane's mammoth desk, made of gleaming mahogany, and poured. I handed a glass to Ethan, who thanked me and said pregnancy suited me. It was impossible not to glow—I was carrying Dane's baby, after all.

To my husband, I asked, “Have you taken any drugs today?”

He gave me a sardonic look. “No.”

“Just asking.” I smiled. Then poured a snifter for him.

Ethan inquired, “So what about the FBI?”

“I don't want them touching the laptop when I'm not there with them. It needs to stay intact—no one trolling through files and possibly compromising information. The truth is, I'm not even sure what all is on it. I started backing up documentation when I got suspicious of the others years ago. I need to wade through it all, figure out what's admissible in court, what will help each case, and then bring it forward.”

“Risky game to play. The Feds might consider that an obstruction of justice—withholding evidence from them.”

“So fucking sue me,” Dane retorted. “I can always claim I had no idea what information I held in my hands.”

“I don't think the federal government subscribes to the
ignorance is bliss
theory.”

“With all the help I've given them, I'm sure we can come to an agreement.”

“Hmm.” Ethan swirled the amber liquid in the bowl of the small, intricately cut Baccarat glass. “Maybe send Amano for the laptop?”

“He's not leaving Ari's side. Especially after yesterday. And I don't trust anyone to courier the key to Nik in Russia to make the pickup.”

“Then I'll retrieve it,” Ethan offered. “I'll take your Lear to New York, then my Gulfstream across the pond and into Switzerland. Might throw off anyone trying to keep tabs on us.”

“Better yet,” Dane said, “take Qadir's plane. We'll have him meet you in New York. No. Charlotte. No one will expect you to fly from there.”

As they dove into tactical details that went well over my head, I slipped out. I found Kyle in the kitchen once more, at the massive island, three iPads spread before him, all propped up on stands.

“Is this the new Rubick's Cube you kids today are trying to solve?”

“Funny.” He didn't glance up. “And I'm only four years younger than you. Soon to be three, because my birthday's next month.”

“Then four again, because mine is the month after that. So there.”

He chuckled. A low, soothing rumble that filled the room. Yeah, I'd for sure miss him when he was gone.

I slid onto an upholstered high-backed stool, trying not to think of that. “So what's happening here?” I gestured to the tablets.

“Amano hooked me up to all of the surveillance cameras so I can monitor every inch of the property, then the entire perimeter of the bordering forest. I'm just trying to figure out how to juggle all the angles for efficiency. That's my first test.”

My head tilted to the side. “Test?”

“Sure. You don't really think Mr. Intensity is going to let me go off half-cocked, do you? I have to learn touch points and weights and balances—since we have wildlife out here—and all kinds of shit I'm sure you don't want to hear about that might set off the alarms. Apparently, he's got them on an ultra-sensitive setting, so my guess is Bambi or Thumper could trip a sensor.”

“And you're going to be able to discern exactly where that trip is?”

“And the source. Within a nanosecond.” He beamed.

“You're a little too zealous about this.” That worried me, naturally.

Without doubt, Kyle had the steely constitution for this sort of work. He was focused—likely a result of being the sort of quarterback who could step into the pocket with ball in-hand and quickly assess the field, taking his time to locate an open receiver. Or determine if it was necessary to run the ball himself.

We'd watched footage of him on wintry nights at the retreat. He'd had a very promising career, with the potential to go pro. Unfortunately, a few grueling sacks had left him with an injured knee. He'd made it through his last season, but the prognosis had not been good, and he'd decided football wasn't in his future. His ego and his sense of direction in life had taken a substantial hit. He'd spent the summer after graduation touring Europe, then decided upon returning to Arizona and going into marketing. There'd been several openings at 10,000 Lux.