by Calista Fox
They traveled mostly in silence, with Damen keeping an eye on his phone map to stay abreast of more agents clearing their path.
Beside him, Nikki fidgeted restlessly, anxiously. Caught herself. Stilled. Then absently fidgeted some more.
Every fiber of his being wished he could just drop her off at the airport with a ticket to Switzerland and let her go about her business.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He really didn’t want to let her out of his sight. Nor did he want her anymore entangled and entrapped in this precarious situation.
Most conversely and contradictory of all? He’d be lying if he didn’t admit, even if just to himself, that he was somewhat grateful and relieved Garcia had taken the action she had. So that Nikki had ended up in Damen’s care. And in his bed.
A double-edged sword he kept under his proverbial hat.
When they were out of town and in the hills, he finally spared another glance at Nikki.
She appeared deep in thought—and he’d give up just about everything he owned to know what she was mentally ruminating over.
Certainly, she was well-trained in emergency situations to keep a cool head. That didn’t necessarily mean the woman had nerves of steel.
Damen wouldn’t expect her to; though, she was absolutely a force to be reckoned with, and he admired her spirit. He prayed he didn’t damage it further with any sort of mishap regarding her computer—and the life she kept on it.
He wasn’t quite sure he’d ever forgive himself for destroying her precious memories…and wouldn’t be surprised if she felt the same toward him.
Nikki was internally berating herself for not spending more time on the street, ensuring everyone was okay and that no one needed medical attention.
Yes, she’d performed a thorough visual assessment of the scene. But there were always delayed reactions to take into consideration, not to mention the first signs of traumatic stress that could be exacerbated when not immediately tended to.
All of her training had urged her to stay where she was. Survival mode, however, had insisted she go with Damen.
First responders had already been on their way, she reminded herself. Not that that fully let her off the hook. She was a medical professional and had an ethical duty to uphold.
Still. She knew it’d been too dangerous for her to linger any longer. If she was in jeopardy, didn’t her mere presence run the potential of putting others’ lives at risk? One of those terrorists could have taken a shot at her—and missed.
A shudder ran through her.
Being shot at was agonizing enough to reconcile. Knowing she created peril to others jangled her nerves even more.
Sensing her unease and conflicting emotions, Damen reached over and his hand covered hers, resting in the space between them. His fingertips curled around her wrist.
Her pulse was erratic and she feared he’d feel it trying to jump right out of her skin.
She willed herself to get a grip and be calm. She’d been in deadly situations before, after all.
Granted, the majority of them had been simulated during her training, and then the other occupational hazards had been primarily Mother Nature’s doing, not someone pointing a loaded gun at her.
Though those explosions in Mexico City had certainly made her wary of penthouse suites in high-rise hotels.
At the moment, she couldn’t deny she was wary, in general.
She had no control over what was currently happening to her and that was not something Nikki was accustomed to.
More than that… She knew every second that her life was on the line, it was tearing Damen apart.
She glimpsed over at him. His jaw was set and his muscles were rock-hard, his visage stony.
For as much as this whole international incident was taking its toll on Nikki…it was clearly doing the same to Damen.
And because she couldn’t truly let go of her nature no matter how dire the circumstance, she switched into shrink mode and very smoothly asked, “So, how’s your Christmas shopping going?”
32
Damen chuckled. He made sure it wasn’t a strained one. No need to intensify the situation or amp the emotions. It was all a hell of a lot more than he wanted Nikki to be exposed to, anyway.
And in some scenarios, the danger factor was most certainly weighing on his conscious. He was also curious as to how everything would play out on the ops campus...and back home.
At the moment, however, he went along with her need to bring the fear factor down a few notches.
Of her question, he said, “I haven’t had the chance yet to complete my shopping. But we don’t have a tree up, so it’s not so glaring that there are no presents under it.”
“Now that you mention it,” she said as she seemed to force herself not to glance out the windows to see what other obstacles they might possibly be on the cusp of facing. “I noticed you only had minimal decorations up at the estate. Do you not celebrate the holiday?”
“We do,” he said. “It’s just that Mads is at a private boarding school and doesn’t come home until the week before Christmas—and with me not there all of the time, my mother doesn’t feel the need to go all out just yet.”
“Good point.”
“Plus, she has her traditions. Tamales and tree-trimming on Christmas Eve with the opening of one gift that night.”
“One gift?” Her eyes popped. “That’s pure torture. Once you get rolling, you want to dive into all the presents!”
He laughed again. “Mads agrees. But then, come Christmas morning, she’s really happy she didn’t go overboard the night before.”
“Hmm. I can see that.”
He said, “The difficulty is in figuring out what to get her these days, since she’s not at the estate on a regular basis.”
“I’d guess clothes.”
“You’d be correct, except she has a dress code at school to adhere to that’s fairly strict. So my mother helps her with all of that.”
“Electronics? Aren’t kids her age always wanting to be up on the latest and greatest of everything?”
“Yes, that’s certainly on the list.”
Nikki seemed to give this more thought. Then she admitted, “I really don’t have much knowledge base when it comes to children.”
She fell silent.
He eyed her curiously. “No nieces and nephews?”
“I’m an only child. And my cousins are close in age to me. Two have kids, but they live in Japan and Madrid, so I don’t see them often.”
He studied her for a few moments, then said, “I think you’d make a great aunt.”
“Maybe to Sophie. In that ‘my mom’s best friend’ way, not by way of blood relation, of course.”
“I’m sure Sophie took an instant liking to you. As did Mads.”
“She’s fantastic, Damen. Really. You must enjoy having her around.”
“She keeps things interesting. I wouldn’t mind if she lived at the estate full-time, rather than at her boarding school. But I’m not sure how that could realistically work, with my assignments and travel.”
“What about your mother?” she asked. “Is she at the estate full-time?”
“Yes. She just requires time on her own, away from the house, for her group therapy and volunteering. It’s been incredibly cathartic for her.”
“I’m so glad.”
Nikki was quiet a few moments more.
Something in her bunched shoulders compelled Damen to ask, “You’ve led group therapy sessions?”
“Of course. Mostly specialized ones—grieving spouses, grieving children, grieving siblings. I don’t typically do general sessions where there’s a mix. I like the other participants to have full empathy for and receive full empathy from others who are experiencing similar trauma.”
“That makes sense,” he said.
Nikki didn’t speak for another brief spell.
Then she said, “I had to separate out my own grieving and maybe that’s why I practice this way
. One group for Conner...” She licked her bottom lip, took a deep breath, then more softly said, “And one for the baby I lost two days after he died.”
Nikki had never discussed this with anyone—not even with Kate.
Not even with the women in her group.
It was an incredibly complicated and painful thing to process.
She’d listened and learned. Absorbed the emotions and the stress and the pressure and the feeling of failure, the survivor’s guilt so many women felt—all of which came with miscarriages at any stage of a pregnancy, losing babies due to causes that could be natural or accidental, that could be a result of a violent or a traumatic experience...
There were so many variables wrapped around this one specific loss that it was difficult to even broach the subject.
And, in all honesty, Nikki had had absolutely no desire to broach it.
Nor did she now. But she’d brought it up, anyway.
So she told Damen, “That main photo that’s on my laptop—the screensaver...” She inhaled deeper, then said, “I was whispering in Conner’s ear when Kate took that shot. I’d just found out I was pregnant. I wasn’t expecting it. We’d gotten caught up in a moment and were irresponsible. It’s the reason I have the IUD now.”
“Nik.” Damen stared at her. He turned to face her fully. His hands gently clasped her shoulders and he gazed into her eyes.
She suddenly realized they were misty.
Damen’s eyes were clouded and full of emotion as well. “You were pregnant?”
33
She nodded.
“Jesus Christ,” he murmured. “I didn’t know... Damn it. I’m so sorry.” The torment flashed across his face. “Nik... Honey. I am so incredibly sorry.”
“I’m just telling you, because—”
Nikki had an answer for why she was telling Damen about this specific trauma.
She had several reasons, in fact.
And she’d never regret sharing this with him—she knew that in her heart. He understood things about her, he accepted her past life. He’d never trivialized or swept under the rug her feelings for Conner and everything she’d had with him, everything they’d built together.
Yet the words sort of sat on her tongue, not willing to tumble forth.
She didn’t quite know why.
She didn’t feel as though it were a threat toward, or a betrayal of, her marriage vows to confide in another man. Especially not this man.
And yet… There was something burning within her that made her close to revealing all, but which continued to hold her back.
“Nik?” Damen quietly prompted, concern etched on his devilishly handsome face, pain in his gorgeous blue eyes.
Ah, that was it.
Oh, my God.
There it was—she suddenly knew what made her reticent.
The pain in his gorgeous blue eyes.
The pain he felt for her…on her behalf. Always.
“Jesus, Damen,” she whispered as tears instantly pooled in her own eyes and crested the rims, rolling along her cheeks. “Everything about me devastates you.”
“Nik,” he repeated. And gave a slight shake of his head—as though to deny her statement. Unconvincingly.
“You listen and you empathize and you internalize and…” She drew in a long, albeit quavering, breath. “You agonize. Over everything I share with you.”
“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know,” he softly, though vehemently, told her. “All of your past experiences, good, bad, horrific… They’re a part of you, Nik. In some ways, they define and shape you. In other ways… They push you and compel you to strive for something different—to thrive in a different capacity. All of it is fascinating and disconcerting at the same time, yes. But Nikki…”
His hands very gently, very tenderly cupped her wet cheeks.
He stared into her misty eyes and said, “There is such an amazing breadth and depth of emotion within you that it makes me fully comprehend how your marriage was so solid, so cohesive, so—”
“Don’t say perfect,” she whispered. “Because there’s no such thing. Every relationship has its bumps and bruises.”
“One of yours was Conner’s career.” He didn’t pose that as a question, because he’d already discerned this to be true, by way of her own confessions.
“I admired him and I loved that he lived for saving others,” she said. “But I worried about him incessantly. I just never told anyone.”
“Including Conner?”
“Especially Conner.”
“Because he might sacrifice his talent for search and rescue—for saving lives—in order to help you sleep better at night?”
“Yes,” she said, without hesitation. “And as we once discussed, you and I… That would make me greedy and selfish....” She sighed, despondently. “A monster, even.”
“None of which is fact,” he hastily asserted. “You’re human. You deserve to have all of these emotions, Nikki. Regardless of how you perceive them, how you process them…or not.”
“It is my goal to process,” she said. “It’s just not always easy to accomplish that goal.”
“I get that. One-thousand percent.”
Damen’s head bent to hers. He kissed her forehead. Then his hands fell away and he sat back in his seat. Raked a hand through his hair.
Nikki dug a tissue out of her purse and dabbed at her eyes. She was silent beside him for several minutes.
Then she sniffled before saying, “Well, that lovely Christmas conversation took a wayward turn.” More tears trickled down her face. She fought to compose herself.
Damen flashed a look her way. “You have to know there is absolutely nothing you can’t tell me. Ever.”
He looked straight ahead again, as they approached the impenetrable-looking gates of what she assumed was the QTango ops campus.
She grabbed another tissue and her makeup compact and freshened herself before she spoke.
She needed the extra time, honestly.
Finally, staring at Damen’s strong profile, she said, “I know that, Damen. I believe in that. I trust in that.”
They passed through the gates.
She breathed a sigh of relief they’d made it safely.
But this was only step one.
And true to her word just seconds before, she told Damen, “I can’t determine how I’m going to feel, how I’m going to react if you extract your intel from my computer…and it wipes out my hard drive. That photo I told you about, the screensaver, it isn’t located anywhere else. The fact that every morning when I powered-on my laptop that was the first thing I saw was the very reason I never downloaded it to any other device. It means something to me, Damen. So I can’t be certain how I’ll respond if—”
“You don’t have to make any promises, guarantees…or even guesstimations. Nikki,” he said as he turned to her once again. “You deserve to experience and even embrace whatever comes forth if there’s an IT failure on my end. I will understand. I will accept it.”
“Damen—”
“You’ll have every right, every reason to hold this against me.”
“No, I actually won’t—you weren’t the one to bring this upon me. And yet… Again. I don’t know how I’ll respond. I’m forewarning you.”
He reached for her hand. Gave it a quick squeeze. Then he said, “You’re one hell of a brave woman, Nikki Kane. Courageous and forthright. That’s why I can accept whatever happens today.”
They pulled into a parking space and Damen climbed out. He went around to Nikki’s side of the vehicle and opened her door, assisting her.
He turned to head toward a large, rather modern-looking building, but now it was Nikki who reached for his hand.
He glanced at her over his broad shoulder.
She said, “I don’t really want to do this.”
The tension in his body visibly loosened—in an effort to relax her. “I know.”
“I can’t do this,” she more emphatically stated.
“Yes, you can. You really are that strong.” He gave her a confident, insistent look.
“No, Damen, you’re not hearing me.” She swallowed down a lump of emotion and said, “I can’t do this without telling you—”
34
“Nik.” Damen turned back to her.
“I want you to get your intel, Damen. All of it, so that you and your team can stop whatever else this terrorist group has planned—so that what happened in Mexico City doesn’t happen again.”
“I know that. I believe in that.”
“I also…” She licked her bottom lip. Bit into it.
Christ, why was this so hard?
Just say it.
Nikki knew he’d fully comprehend every angle from which she came. Even though all of those angles were confusing and contradictory.
She pulled in a deep breath, then said, “I also don’t want you to open my laptop ever again. I don’t want to lose my files and photos and letters. Nor do I want you to see my screensaver. Now that you know what it really means to me…”
“Nik.” He reached for her hand and his fingers twined with hers. “Every single photo is going to have some significance attached to it. Because every single moment you shared with Conner was significant. To both of you.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said.
He tugged her close to him. His other hand threaded through her hair. His head dipped and he whispered, “Thank you for that. But consider that, if everything goes smoothly with the data transfer and your laptop remains fully intact… Nik, I wouldn’t expect you to upload all of those photos to a cloud environment, only. Yes, I’m telling you to back up your data,” he quietly, pointedly said, “but I wouldn’t expect you to clean your computer of all those memories. They’re a part of your life, they’re a part of you. A part you’ve shared with me.”
Tears burned her eyes once more. “I like that we don’t have any secrets between us.”