In a Broken Dream (The Broken Series Book 4) (6 page)

Surprise
lit his handsome face. “Will Kadyn be there?”

I
shook my head. “No. I think Cenia would like to get to know you better. I think
she’s come to terms with the fact that we’re together, and she doesn’t want you
to think she’s trying to sabotage our relationship by asking Kadyn and me to be
in the wedding… not to mention the dance lessons.”

Rafael’s
knuckles whitened against the black leather steering wheel. “When do you guys
start your dance lessons?” he asked, merging onto I-395.

“In
two weeks,” I replied.

“Try
to keep your schedule open for next week,” he advised. He merged onto 14
^th
Street and turned left toward the National Mall.

I
fixed my eyes on the Washington Monument. “I’m not planning a single thing for
next week. In fact, I may just crawl into bed tonight and refuse to leave until
school starts back up again.”

He
grinned. “If you’re planning to hole up in bed, I’m going to take the week off and
join you.”

I
just shook my head.

Rafael
parked his jet black Ferrari alongside the curb, next to a small park. “The
restaurant is over there,” he noted, pointing toward the other side of the
park.

I
didn’t look at where he was pointing. I was too busy watching a homeless man
sort through his meager belongings on the park bench. It looked like he might
be staking out a place to sleep for the night. I made a mental note to call
Patrick to see what had become of the Homeless Health Improvement Act we’d been
working on.

The
doors on the Enzo lifted, the soft hum tugging me from my silent contemplation.
Rafael was offering me his hand before I could even think to step out of the
car. “Thanks,” I murmured as I peeled my eyes from the homeless man. I felt
insanely guilty stepping out of such a luxurious car when that poor man didn’t
even have a place to sleep.

Rafael
tucked me under his arm as the doors slid closed. “We’ll buy him dinner,” he offered,
easily tracking where my thoughts had gone.

I
burrowed closer to his chest. “Sounds good.”

We
followed the sidewalk through the center of the park before crossing the street
and entering the restaurant. Rafael checked in with the hostess. She led us to
a small table, draped in linen, alongside a short cherry wood wall.

Rafael
tucked me into the chair facing the jazz band before taking the seat opposite
me. “What do you think?”

I
studied the dimly lit restaurant. The small amount of light that was hovering
over the wall sconces reflected off a tangle of burnished gold ribbons that sprouted
from the pillars and wove all across the ceiling. It was as if we were eating
beneath a gnarled oak tree under a moon drenched sky. The privacy walls lent an
intimate atmosphere to an otherwise crowded restaurant. The jazz vocalist was
commanding enough attention to render most of the guests speechless. Everyone
seemed content to sit back, enjoy the music, the food, and the wine. “I like
it,” I promptly replied.

Rafael
smiled before glancing down at his menu. “Me too.” He studied the one page menu
briefly. “I’m going to order the jambalaya. What are you having?”

“Shrimp
and grits,” I announced, setting the menu aside.

The
waitress stopped in front of our table. “Are you ready to order?” she asked.
She glanced at me as she poured ice water into our glasses from a silver
pitcher that was fogged with condensation.

“Shrimp
and grits,” I replied. “No soup or salad. I’m saving room for dessert.” The
woman at the table across from us was eating bread pudding. A thick, rich
caramel sauce dripped from her fork every time she lifted it to her mouth. I
could smell the salted caramel even though she was seated a few feet away. I
was sorely tempted to order dessert first.

“I
think we should order the fried green tomatoes for an appetizer,” Rafael remarked.
“I’d like the jambalaya and a bottle of the finest Riesling Spatlese you offer.
We would also like to buy dinner for the gentleman who appears to be sleeping
in the park across the street.”

She
nodded. “That’s John. He sleeps there pretty regularly. The cook sends food out
to him a couple times a week.”

Rafael’s
face brightened. “Do you happen to know his favorite dish?”

“The
fried chicken with mashed potatoes and collard greens,” she replied knowingly.

“Can
you add that to our tab and have someone take it out to him?” Rafael asked.

“I’d
also like you to offer him some dessert,” I chimed in, “and something to
drink.”

She
smiled. “He’s rather fond of our sweet tea. We’ll hook him up. I’ll be back
shortly with the wine and a basket of warm bread.”

Rafael
gathered my hand in his as he reached across the table. “Feel better?”

I
nodded.

“Have
you decided whether you’re going to resume working at Seeds for Peace?” he
asked, settling back against his seat.

I
took a sip of water while I sorted through my response. I still felt conflicted
about my decision, and I knew Rafael didn’t want me to continue working for the
organization. “I would like to continue working for them. Paul has offered to
let Shae and me work exclusively from DC, conducting research and developing
training materials. We won’t have to travel abroad for any of the trainings
until we decide we’re ready to take on another trip. He’s been very
accommodating with the sabbatical, and I don’t think he’s going to pressure us
to do anything we’re not ready to do, given what happened in Ukraine.”

Rafael’s
eyes darkened. “He should be accommodating. Your life was threatened because he
sent you to Ukraine without a security detail.”

I
shook my head. “I doubt that would have deterred the SVR. I had security
guards. Remember? You assigned Ethan and Brady to protect me.”

“Maxim
wouldn’t have been permitted anywhere near you if you had been assigned a visible
security detail… if I hadn’t been trying to hide the fact that Ethan and Brady
were watching over you. If you hadn’t gotten involved with Maxim, you wouldn’t
have met Prime Minister Azarov. The prime minister wouldn’t have offered you a
job, and the SVR wouldn’t have been able to use you to force them to extend the
lease allowing the Russian naval fleet to remain in Sevastopol,” Rafael noted
bitterly.

“Maxim
was trying to protect me,” I argued softly.

“His
interest in you extended far beyond that,” he snapped. He sighed heavily.
“Regardless of his intentions, your involvement with him made you an even
greater target.”

Our
debate came to an abrupt stop when the waitress delivered the bread and wine.
Rafael sampled the wine and nodded his approval. His attention returned to me
as soon as the waitress walked away. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to ruin dinner
with this conversation. What’s done is done, and there is no undoing it. If you
are going to work for Seeds for Peace, I just want to know there’s a plan in
place to keep you safe if you decide to travel for another assignment.”

I
stared sullenly into my wine. “Paul said he was changing the policy. He’s
planning to send the training teams with a security detail from this point
forward. I think they’re still accepting bids for that contract, if you’re
interested.”

Rafael
shook his head. “I prefer to work in the United States, as do most of the men working
at my security firm.” He moved his chair so we could sit on the same side of
the table. He tilted my face toward his once he reclaimed the seat. “If you
decide to travel for work, to teach at another university, I want you to
promise me that you’ll let me accompany you.” He put his finger on my lips when
I began to object. “I know Paul is going to assign his own security detail.
That’s fine, but I will not trust your security to anyone else, and it is not
fair of you to ask me to do so, not after everything we’ve been through.”

A
single tear slid down my cheek. “I promise,” I finally conceded.

Rafael
brushed the tear aside with his thumb before kissing me on the cheek. “Where do
they plan to sponsor the next training?” he asked. His arm rested comfortably
against the back of my seat.

“India
and Pakistan,” I replied. “The two trainings are scheduled back to back, but
I’m not attending either one of them.”

He
handed me the wine I’d previously abandoned. “Good.”

We
settled in to enjoy the jazz vocalist when the fried green tomatoes arrived. We
both had a clear view of the band, now that Rafael was sitting on my side of
the table. He waited until after we’d eaten dinner and I had a couple of
glasses of wine in me before he posed the question I suspected he’d been planning
all night. “I want you to tell me one thing… nothing too big… but something
you’ve been dreaming of doing.”

“Why?”
I asked, my voice strained.

He
brought my hand to his lips as his eyes sought mine. “I told you the other
night. We are going to build new dreams, Kristine, and we’re going to work
toward them together.”

Fear,
insecurity, and dread jockeyed for position while I considered his request.

The
waitress stopped by with two steaming mugs of coffee, bread pudding, and peach
cobbler. Both desserts were served warm with a side of vanilla bean ice cream.

“Well?”
Rafael inquired encouragingly. He nudged the coffee a little closer to me.

My
mood lifted as soon as I smelled the smoky cigar notes beckoning from the coffee.
I blew the steamy tendrils away from the mug and took a sip before sampling my
dessert. The dark roast coffee complemented the bread pudding perfectly. “I’d
like to take you back to Montana to meet my parents,” I finally confessed.

Rafael’s
eyebrows shot up in surprise, then fell into a deep scowl. “Did Jase tell you?”
he demanded accusingly. He reached for his cell phone, his thumb hovering over
the screen as he awaited my response. He appeared to be plotting some scathing
text message to Jase.

Caramel
oozed onto the table when the spoon stopped abruptly in front of my mouth. “What?
What does Jase have to do with this?”

Rafael
looked up from the cell phone. “He didn’t tell you?”

I
set the spoon down. “Tell me what?” I grumbled irritably. His odd behavior was
seriously threatening my ability to enjoy the decadent dessert.

Rafael’s
laughter warmed every part of my body as it rolled through me. I stared at him
in shock. His laugh was still one of the most beautiful sounds I’d ever heard.

“Looks
like I owe Jase an apology,” he said with a sheepish smile. He flicked at the
screen on his phone and scrolled through his e-mail. He handed me the phone
when he found what he’d been looking for.

“Is
this a confirmation for plane tickets?” I asked a bit uncertainly.

He
grinned as he dug into his dessert. “Two plane tickets to Montana. I was
planning to surprise you. We leave on Sunday.”

“You
purchased plane tickets to Montana?” I repeated, not quite daring to believe it.
“Why?”

He
held a spoonful of peach cobbler up for me to try. “I’ve wanted to take you
back to Montana to see your family ever since we returned from Saint-Tropez,
but you were so overwhelmed with your coursework, I didn’t dare schedule the
trip until after summer semester was over.”

I
nearly knocked the spoon out of his hand as I threw my arms around his neck.
“Thank you! Rafael, your timing couldn’t be more perfect. I’ve been dying to go
back to Montana. How did you know? God, this is exactly what I need,” I began
babbling, then laughed when I caught sight of him still balancing the proffered
spoon in his hand. I tasted the cobbler and offered him a bite of bread
pudding.

He
hummed his appreciation. “That’s even better than the cobbler.” He shoved the
cobber aside and reached for my dessert. “I thought you could use some down
time and would feel better if you were surrounded by family,” he murmured
softly. “Do you mind terribly that I’m going with you? I can stay behind if you
prefer, although I’d still want to send Jase in my place. I don’t want you traveling
alone.”

I
shot him an incredulous look. “I’m not going to Montana with Jase. I want you
to go with me. I know we’ve only been dating for five months, but I would
really like you to meet my parents.”

Relief
softened his face, but the worry lines quickly returned. “Is the rest of your
family as protective as your cousin, Lexie?”

I
laughed. “No. Lexie is probably my fiercest protector, aside from you, of
course.”

“Do
you think your father will approve of me?” he inquired nervously. He suddenly
seemed no more confident than a teenage boy asking a girl to prom.

My
eyes drifted toward the jazz band. “I don’t think it’s my father you have to
worry about.”

He
glanced at me questioningly.

“It’s
Dan,” I remarked softly. “Dan and Kadyn are pretty tight.”

“Dan
is the Vietnam veteran who watched over you in Montana… the one who helped
Kadyn find you in Trout Lake and when Michael took you to Paris?” Rafael inquired.