by Donna Young
“You’re going to have to grab my wrist, sweetheart. My arm’s injured so your grip needs to be strong. First one hand then the other. Get ready.”
The air solidified in her lungs. First one then the other.
“Now!”
She grabbed for his wrist with her right hand, praying for contact. She sensed the brush of warm skin and with it came a spark of relief. A scant second later she felt nothing but the night air. A scream exploded from her chest just as his fingers caught hers, firm, secure.
The other hand was easier. She let go of the curtain and locked on to his wrist. Slowly he dragged her up the wall. “Grab for the ledge, babe.” Sweat trickled down his forehead and into the pained crevices of his face. “Swing your leg up.”
It took Kate two attempts before she got herself up onto the foot-wide ledge. Each one, she knew, jarred his injury.
Her body shook uncontrollably as Roman grabbed her by the waist with his good arm. He hauled her over the sill and gathered her close, ignoring the arm that hung loosely at his side.
“Jesus, Kate,” Roman rasped against her ear. “Never again. Don’t ever do that again.” She nodded her agreement from under his chin, pretty sure that one dive through a window would last her a lifetime.
When she trusted herself enough to speak, she said, “I didn’t think you’d find me so quickly.” She shuddered and took a deep breath. “The power shut off just before we fell.”
“You mean just before you dived,” Roman corrected tightly. “The security system failed minutes before, unlocking the doors. Quamar headed for the compound to search for you, while I took the house—” His chest convulsed. “I could’ve been too late.”
The whop whop of helicopters stopped Roman’s next words. Kate turned her head in time to see three military choppers landing in Threader’s courtyard. High-beam lights flooded the compound, then poured into the study. In their wake the gunfire ceased.
“Here comes the cavalry,” she joked, her voice weak with relief. They were safe.
The increased tempo of the vein at the base of his throat told her Roman wasn’t going to be distracted, even with being rescued. She resisted the urge to steady the pulse with her finger and instead braced herself, waiting. It didn’t take long.
“Of all the—”
“Stupid,” she inserted helpfully.
“That’s not funny.”
“I’m not laughing, Roman.”
“You shouldn’t have jumped her like that,” he bellowed even as he gathered her closer. “She was a trained opera tive. One move and she could’ve tossed you over her shoulder and out the window.”
“I wasn’t thinking about her skills. She intended to shoot you.”
“I can take care of myself. Unlike you.” He paused, inhaling deeply. The skin tightened over the planes of his face as he struggled to gain some semblance of control. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“I thought I was going to lose you, too.” Kate tried to be contrite, she really did. If for no other reason than he had a valid point. She should have let him do his job. But if given the choice she’d do everything again to keep Roman safe.
“And Threader could have killed you! You can’t protect yourself.”
“I think I did a damn good job protecting myself…and you, too!” Kate stood her ground. “Besides, Threader’s dead. Phoenix shot him.”
The click of a gun reverberated through the room. “I believe you’re a bit premature, Doctor.”
Startled, Kate swung around, instinctively taking a few steps back. Threader had managed to drag himself into an upright position on the floor with his back braced against the throne chair. The helicopter lights from the window glinted off his pistol. Blood soaked his suit and shirtfront. No doubt any other person would have died with two bullets in him. For the first time in her life, Kate understood what it meant to make a devil’s pact.
“As for your argument, my dear, I find it somehow prophetic.” He took a shallow breath, and Kate could hear the death rattle from where she stood.
“Get behind me,” Roman murmured from his position a few feet away, his body tensed in lethal lines. “Now.”
“You do, Doctor, and I will be forced to shoot before he can pull that gun from behind his back.” He directed his next words to Roman. “With your left hand, you’ll never make it. She’ll be dead. I’ve little time and even less patience.” Threader’s words slurred and he blinked, trying to maintain focus. Roman took a minuscule step toward her.
Bits of wall exploded next to Kate. “The next shot will be through her heart, Cerberus.”
For a moment Kate thought Roman was going to ignore Threader’s threat, but instead he remained motionless. Threader’s gaze locked with Roman’s before he smiled, sending more blood trickling from the side of his mouth. “I was there, you know, at the warehouse in Morocco, the night your team torched it. It took me a while to escape.”
“If I’d known, you’d be dead.”
Threader laughed, triggering a coughing spasm, but the gun remained leveled at Kate’s chest. “Almost didn’t make it. The explosion sent debris flying. I can still feel the hot metal searing my skin.”
Roman flexed his fingers, waiting for the opportunity to strike. He might be slower with his left hand, but he was just as accurate. Only the knowledge that he couldn’t beat a bullet stopped him.
“Every haunting second since then, I’ve lived with the deformity,” Threader murmured. Roman could see where the situation was heading.
“So why shoot the doc, Threader?” Roman prodded, desperation serrating the antagonistic tone. “When I’m here. The man who ruined your plans. The man who made you a monster. Make it the final act of your play.”
“Do not worry.” Threader grimaced and shifted his body slightly, his breathing became more labored. “You see, I have no delusions about my mortality. I even wel come hell.” He nodded drunkenly. “Because I’ll be seeing you suffer as I have, Cerberus, living your own nightmare.”
As Threader’s words registered, a balloon of fear burst in Roman’s gut. He grabbed for his gun and dove for Kate, knowing even as he shot Threader he’d been too late. In slow motion he saw Threader fire and heard Kate’s soft grunt as the bullet struck. His own scream of agony was echoed by Cain’s bellow of rage as his partner raced through the doorway.
Vaguely Kate registered the shots, then the shock of Roman’s tackle. For a moment she was sure she’d been hit, but there was no sting, no pain. Nothing.
Kate started to tell Roman she was fine when fire engulfed her chest. Her body seemed to fold in on itself with excruciating pain. “Roman?” She reached out, grabbing air.
“Get help!” Roman shouted. To whom, Kate didn’t know.
Somehow she’d ended up on the floor, not in his arms. He tugged frantically at her clothes, trying to get to her wounds. His face, grim and fearful, hovered only inches from hers. “It looks like he caught your spleen.”
Something heavy pressed into her, sending another brush fire of white-hot flames through her stomach. A low moan escaped her lips.
“Baby, I got to stop the bleeding.”
“Roman, I…” she whispered, unable to finish. The fire seemed to be lessening, leaving her weak.
“So help me God, don’t you die! Do you hear me?”
Dying? So this is what it felt like, she thought. A dark, twirling mist slowly enveloped her, making her feel buoyant, pain free. The fire that seemed to ignite her a few moments earlier, seemed cool now, almost soothing. She closed her eyes.
“Damn it, Doc. Look at me!” Recognizing the desperation in his demand, she somehow managed to obey.
“Listen to what I’m saying,” he said. The words were urgent, imploring. “God, Kate, loving you scares the hell out of me.” Tears filled his eyes as he begged. “But losing you scares me more. You have to hang on. Understand?”
Because of the expression of raw anguish on his face, Kate tried to lift her hand to comfort him, but she h
ad no strength. There was so much to say, but the mist increased, invading her vision. It swirled around her, sucking her into its depths, giving her only enough time to say what really mattered. “I love you.”
Chapter Nineteen
Two months later
Kate’s gaze drifted over the palm-fringed strip of white sand as she listened to the tranquil, rhythmic lapping of the crystal-blue water. A soft breeze, sweet with the scent of hibiscus, danced lightly across her sun-warmed skin, eliciting from her a sigh of pleasure. Paradise.
She’d spent the past few weeks walking the private beach, watching the gulls, welcoming their company as they circled, their somber wails mixing with the resonance of the rolling waves. In time she’d regained her strength, using the soft sounds and fragrances of the island to soothe, to heal.
Leisurely she ran a hand over her bikini-clad body. Gone were the bruises and ugly scratches. Except for the pink scar, her skin had tinted to a deep cocoa brown. Almost without realizing it, her fingers lingered over her concave stomach.
There had been no baby.
A familiar ache spread through her chest and echoed deep within her soul. With pure strength of will, she pushed the feeling away. She’d moved on, damn it. He had left and she had moved on.
It was hard to believe that a little more than six weeks ago, with her surgeon’s blessing, her parents had flown her back from Mexico City to the States. Weeks spent in a private New York hospital had left her restless and empty. So much so that when she was finally allowed to go home, Kate realized it wasn’t where she wanted to stay. Nor was she eager to return to the laboratory. Against her family’s wishes, she packed some clothes and headed to the Caribbean, determined to spend her recuperation on some remote beach far from the mountains, civilization—and Roman.
He hadn’t been there when she’d awakened in the hospital in Mexico City—only her family had been waiting anxiously by her side.
Hope that Roman would walk through the door kept her from immediately questioning Cain. But after a few days, the rejection was too much to bear.
She remembered the look of helpless frustration in Cain’s eyes when she’d confronted him. Roman had left the hospital on business once she’d stabilized.
Once again love couldn’t compete with Roman D’Amato’s unyielding commitment to duty.
Kate stifled the nagging hurt, banishing it until tonight, where, in the darkness of her bedroom, she would allow the pain its freedom. The same way she had every other night since awakening in the hospital and finding Roman gone.
Quamar grunted, interrupting her thoughts. Dressed in a neon-blue Hawaiian shirt with white Bermuda shorts, the man represented a fashion designer’s nightmare. She almost grimaced when he tilted back the floral flat-brimmed hat and came to stand behind her lounger. Only the shoulder holster and gun managed to keep him from looking like bad wallpaper.
It had taken a week for Kate to see through his facade to the tranquil nature beneath. Since that time they had spent many hours playing chess and discussing various subjects, analyzing those they agreed on and debating those they didn’t. Quamar sensed when she needed time to herself and when she needed a distraction from her turbulent thoughts. On those occasions he talked about his tribe or his fascination with ornithology and much to her surprise, a loving friendship blossomed between them.
Initially, when her brothers had insisted on Quamar becoming her chaperone, she had protested, arguing that the danger had passed. Roman had been the one who had killed Threader. Cain, hearing Kate’s scream had rushed to the study, arriving just in time to see her shot.
With both Threader and Phoenix dead, Labyrinth had ferreted out Phoenix’s informants easily. Two of the traitors had turned out to be Cain’s secretary along with one of Jonathon Mercer’s assistants. Even so, Cain and Ian remained adamant, believing time would reveal additional traitors. Quamar became Cain’s backup protector just in case they proved correct.
“It seems you have company, Doctor.” The lilting words startled Kate, bringing her back to the present. She followed her friend’s gaze out to sea where a large white cruiser lay anchored. This was the first boat she’d seen anchored in her bay since she’d arrived, and a feather of apprehension tickled her spine.
“My job is finished. My debt repaid,” Quamar said suddenly. The giant stepped into her line of sight, blocking the light with his shadow before flashing a toothy smile. “It is time for me to return to the desert and my tribe.”
Kate sat up. “I don’t understand. You can’t go, Quamar.” When the plea didn’t work, she threatened, not caring how peevish it sounded. “You promised my brothers you would stay until I returned to New York.”
Quamar sighed, a hint of sympathy in his dark eyes. “I only promised to keep you safe until my services were no longer required. And that time has come.” He nodded toward the sea. “It was not a promise made to your brothers, although they took responsibility.”
“Who—” It was then Kate saw a man wading through the surf toward them, his dark hair glinting in the sunlight, his powerful, well-muscled body encased only in tight black trunks that emphasized the easy, predatory grace in his stride. Roman!
Quamar leaned over and took Kate’s hand. His large, warm fingers encircled the iciness of hers, startling her. His lips curved knowingly. “You are a rare jewel, Doctor.” He kissed her hand, then released it. “I shall miss you.”
Tears stung at the back of her eyes and threatened to choke her. “Thank you, Quamar. You are a true friend.” She stood and hugged him.
“As are you,” he murmured in her ear while returning her embrace. “Trust Allah.” Then, with a quick wave toward the ocean, Quamar stepped back from Kate, salaamed and sauntered toward the beach house.
She turned back to the ocean, watching the white foam swirl around Roman’s legs as he waded toward her with determined strides.
“Kate.”
He was leaner than she remembered, but otherwise he looked the same. Longing tugged deep within her belly, and the self-betrayal sparked her temper. How could a man who had broken her heart still affect her so completely? Clearing her throat, she battled for composure.
At the sound, the lines of Roman’s body altered, tensed—subtly, but with her heightened awareness she noticed it. A horrendous thought occurred to her. “What’s wrong?” Fear tripped then slid through her. “Did something happen?”
Startled at the obvious trepidation in her voice, Roman stepped closer, only to stop when Kate jumped back, placing herself out of reach.
“No, nothing’s wrong.” His features relaxed. “Everything is fine. We rounded up the rest of Threader’s people a few days ago. It was simple actually, once we discovered Phoenix had left records.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I missed you. I needed to see you.”
“You’ve seen me, now leave.”
His eyes grazed the minuscule pieces of white fabric that clung to her body. “We need to take care of some unfinished business.”
“I don’t understand,” she said, as aware of the lie as she was of the butterflies in her stomach. “Threader’s dead. The government took the formula and locked it away somewhere safe. I’m getting a much needed vacation.” She nodded toward the boat. “It seems you are, too.”
“That’s one reason I’m here. One of many.” He started to reach for her, then must have thought better of it. His arms dropped impatiently back to his sides. “But first we talk.”
“Go away, Roman. I’m not interested in what you have to say,” she responded quietly, fighting her own battle of personal restraint. “Your actions were explanation enough.” Both times she’d trusted him, he’d let her down, sending her spiraling into an emotional hell that she’d had to claw her way back from. She wouldn’t survive a third.
“Damn it, Kate. I won’t hurt you.”
“You’re right— I’m not going to give you the chance. It’s over. You made your choice when you left the hospital
for another assignment.”
“There was no other assignment. Just some loose ends that needed taking care of. I wanted to finish it all before I came for you.”
Came for her? To do what? Continue where they left off until he went on another mission? Fighting to keep her emotions hidden, she turned away, staring at the sand as tears flooded her eyes. Then a gentle hand caressed her back. She jerked away, falling to her knees.
“I can’t. Not again.” The words came out raspy, raw.
“Christ, Kate. Don’t cry. Please.” He fell behind her, spooning his chest over her back and wrapping her in his arms.
“Let me go.” She elbowed him. “You’ve made your feelings about me crystal clear.”
He gripped her tighter. “I quit Labyrinth.”
Kate froze, unable to think, unable to believe.
“I love you, Doc.” Turning her in his arms, he gently kissed her tears away. “Marry me.”
She scrambled away, quickly putting the lounger between them, and shook her head vehemently. “No.”
“You don’t have a choice. I’ve got the license and we’re getting married tonight.” He circled the lounger slowly, his intent clear. “You’re not getting away this time, Doc.”
Her heart quivered, then flopped in her chest at the caveman routine. She took a small side step in her bungalow’s direction. “I was never the one trying to get away.”
“You’re right,” he admitted before he took a small step of his own, heading her off. “I was stupid to think I could stay away.” The statement was deep and sensual, sending a ripple of awareness through her. “And I’ll ask your for giveness for that and much more—every time I’m buried inside you, loving you.”
Her pulse pounded, sending thick, molten lava pumping through her veins. She forced logic to take control and took another step. “After everything, you can’t expect me to believe you,” she said, even though her heart wanted to—badly.
“Yes, I can.” Suddenly he stopped his pursuit. “Because I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it, if you’ll let me.”