Cassidy wrapped her arms around Alex’s waist. “I miss you too, Love.”
“You do?”
“Of course, I do. I wouldn’t change our life. Sometimes, I wish we could escape it all,” she confessed.
“How about for one night?” Alex suggested. Cassidy looked at her suspiciously. “I packed us a bag.”
“A bag?”
“I don’t know what is ahead,” Alex began. “For me.”
Cassidy’s lips pressed together firmly. Alex tried to convince herself that she wouldn’t need to travel; that she could avoid danger. Cassidy knew that was wishful thinking at best. “I know,” Cassidy admitted.
“I want us to make a promise,” Alex said.
“A promise?”
“That we’ll make time,” Alex explained. “Not just for the kids or our parents. Not for Claire and Candace or Jonathan—for us. I need you, Cass. Where I’m going, I need you more than—”
Cassidy pressed two fingers to Alex’s lips. “You have me,” she promised. “You always have, and you always will. Don’t ask me to like this—what you are doing. I hate it. I hate wondering if you will walk back through the door.”
“Cass, I will always—”
“Don’t you dare. Don’t make a promise you don’t know if you can keep,” Cassidy warned. “No lies. No secrets. No vacant promises either. Please,” Cassidy requested. “I know you. You and Claire are not so different, you know.”
“So, you’ve said.”
“You two don’t run from danger. You make a beeline toward it.”
“That’s not true.”
Cassidy arched a brow.
“I don’t look for danger,” Alex said.
“But it lures you,” Cassidy replied.
“That’s not—”
“It does, Alex. Stop denying it. After all these years, don’t you think I know who you are?” Cassidy took Alex’s face in her hands. “You have me. I’m not going anywhere. You know that. Every time you leave; part of me will wonder if you will come back. Will I get a call in the middle of the night? Will a knock fall on my door? You’re right. We need to make time.”
“I will do everything I can to get home to you. You know I will.”
“I do know.” Cassidy stretched to place a kiss on Alex’s mouth. “No more talk about what might be ahead—not today.”
“Deal. How about dinner?” Alex asked. “I know a place.”
“Is that so?”
“Interested?”
“Lead on.”
COTROCENI PALACE
BUCHAREST, ROMANIA
Candace followed the Romanian president to an ornate room. She was surprised when he directed her to walk through a narrow corridor that resided along the left-hand wall. No more than four feet ahead, they reached another door. President Barbu led Candace through.
“This is a well-kept secret,” he told her. “A place to escape at a moment’s notice. Please,” he said, directing her to have a seat in a leather chair. “Țuică?” he asked.
“If you’re offering,” Candace replied with a grin.
“I don’t think your wife cared for this much,” he said with a chuckle.
Candace laughed along with him. Jameson was not a wine or liquor connoisseur. Candace enjoyed the plum liquor and found the president’s explanation for drinking before a meal entertaining. She was acquainted with the tradition of consuming a beverage before a meal to increase appetite. It was Barbu’s dramatic flair that both surprised and amused her. “Jameson is not much of a drinker,” Candace supplied. “Beyond a beer now and again.”
“Ah, beer has taken over the world,” he said.
“For some people,” Candace replied dryly.
He laughed easily. “For us—something a little stronger.” He handed Candace a glass and claimed a seat across from her. “You have questions,” he said. “Those are better discussed here.”
“I am curious,” she admitted.
“Ask.”
“Your relationship with President Kapralov—”
“Is complicated,” he replied.
“But open.”
Barbu tipped his head and took a drink. “It’s unwise to close the channel.”
“Even if it damages your credibility with your partners in the Union?”
“You’ve been listening to Theresa.”
Theresa Keller was the German Chancellor. Candace not only considered her an ally, she regarded Keller as a friend. Friendship and alliances aside, President Reid was committed to listening to everyone’s point of view. That endeavor proved unpopular with many people—ally and adversary alike. She continued to believe it was sound policy. “I listen to everyone,” she corrected him.
“I would prefer that we close that channel. More than our proximity makes that impossible. The SVR has authority at our border,” he explained. “The GRU operates here in Bucharest and beyond. Not everyone sees the borders on a map. Taking a hard line with, as you might call it, with Kapralov is not in anyone’s best interest. It is not in yours either.”
“How so?”
“Tension is high here, Candace. Unusually high. Poland is nervous. Poland is always nervous. I understand. It’s led to more corruption for the Poles. The Union threw away Ukraine. I’ve heard the official line from Brussels. Ukraine had few options. They sit, as do we all, in a precarious position. As much as our friends in Ukraine fear aggression, they are impotent to act to suppress Russian influence. The same is true in Belarus. It is not the will of the people, but those in control of the government. You do not banish an old oligarchy with new names,” he explained.
“Kapralov considers you a friend?”
“Not a friend. Not an enemy either.”
“Switzerland?” she joked.
“We remain as neutral as we can afford to be. Romania has no desire to aid the Russian Federation in its territorial objectives. There are entities here that remain loyal to Soviet interests. Make no mistake; the Soviet mentality stands. Those that empower it remain.”
“The old oligarchy?”
“The same oligarchy,” he said. “It exists throughout Eastern Europe, just as you have yours in the west.”
Candace made no reply. There was truth to his statement. She decided to wade further. “What do you know about the Russian’s movements in Kaliningrad?”
“Hardly new,” Barbu replied.
“It doesn’t concern you?”
“It doesn’t surprise me,” he said. “You want to know if Romania can be trusted—if I can be trusted to stay in line with America’s interests. I have no allegiance to Mr. Kapralov. We have commitments to the European alliance. That alliance is perhaps more fragile than most understand. My allegiance is to Romania. That will not change. The Romanian people chose Europe not Russia, Candace. For me, that is all that needs to be said.”
Candace nodded.
“And, what of you?” he asked her. “What is America’s interest in our corner of the world?”
“Stability,” Candace replied.
Barbu took a slow sip of his liquor. “As truth or illusion?” he questioned.
“It may take one,” Candace replied. “To gain the other.” She lifted her glass.
“Indeed,” Barbu said. Indeed.
SUCEAVA, ROMANIA
Steak and wine were the definition of globalism. Claire looked at the menu and suppressed a giggle. Over seven-thousand miles from home and she could still order a steak from Texas and a bottle of wine from California. What the hell? When in Romania, eat American. She chuckled.
“The menu is amusing? Or is it my company?” Fyodor Popescu asked.
Claire looked up from the menu. “American steak and wine,” she commented.
“Ah, yes. A taste of home no matter where you travel,” he replied.
“Seems that way. I found Five Guys Burgers and Fries in Frankfurt,” she said with a giggle. “That is ironic.”
Popescu didn’t understand the comment.
Claire laug
hed. “Never mind. Not quite the globalization Biocon aims for, I guess.”
“Not exactly burgers,” he agreed.
Claire closed the menu and set it aside. “Not that I don’t appreciate a good meal, but I don’t think we’re here to talk about expanding my palate.”
“Perhaps, we are.”
“Somehow, I doubt that Biocon is looking to break into the culinary arts.”
“Biocon is a diverse company. What cannot be engineered?”
“Don’t say that in polite company,” Claire advised.
“It is true.”
“So, that’s what Pyotr wanted us to discuss; engineering?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Popescu said. He paused when the waiter approached. “Perhaps, you should try something a little less American,” he said.
Claire raised her brow. “What would you suggest, Fyodor?” she asked him in Romanian.
He grinned. “Shall I choose?”
“Please.”
“Do you trust me?” he asked playfully.
She replied in his native tongue. “Let’s see what you order.”
MYSTIC, CONNECTICUT
Alex emerged from the bathroom to find Cassidy gazing out the window at the water. She loved to watch Cassidy at a distance. It didn’t matter if Cassidy was reading a book, chopping vegetables in the kitchen, reading to one of their children, or changing a diaper. The sound of Cassidy’s voice calling for Dylan or Mackenzie, her laughter when she shared a glass of wine with Rose, and the way she danced when she thought no one was watching; all of it stirred love and passion in Alex’s veins. It started the day she’d watched Cassidy peel a piece of blue Play-Doh from her heel. Alex’s longing to be closer to her wife had never diminished.
“Are you holding up that wall?” Cassidy asked.
“Just watching.”
“Watching me look out the window?” Cassidy asked with amusement.
Alex took a few steps forward and nuzzled Cassidy’s neck. “Yes.”
“That must be fascinating,” Cassidy supplied.
“Everything about you fascinates me.”
Cassidy turned and smiled. “Alex Toles, are you trying to score?”
“You said flattery might get me everywhere.”
“I did say that, didn’t I?”
“You did.”
“Where is it you are hoping to go?” Cassidy asked. She traced a fingertip over Alex’s throat.
“Pretty much anywhere you want to take me.”
Cassidy laughed. “I love you, Alfred.”
“You haven’t called me that in a long time.”
“Maybe because we have Kenz on dish duty most days.”
“And here I thought it was because you finally see me as Batman.”
“I prefer you without the mask,” Cassidy replied.
Alex reached out and tucked Cassidy’s hair behind her ears. Her hand trembled, and Cassidy caught hold of it.
“It’s just me, Love.”
“You still don’t know what that means,” Alex said. “Still. After all these years, you don’t know.”
“I do,” Cassidy said.
Alex looked at Cassidy the same way she had the first time they kissed—every time they kissed. Wonderment, hopefulness, and anticipation mingled in Alex’s expression. No matter how many years passed, it left Cassidy breathless. Ups or downs, disagreements or celebrations, every experience that Cassidy shared with Alex served to bring them closer. It had taken work. Cassidy spent years learning to navigate her fear of losing Alex. Alex spent an equal amount of time wading through her insecurities. They had argued. They had cried. They had sat in silence for hours. Affection, adoration, understanding, and most of all, love, permeated all of it. Cassidy did know. She’d always understood what Alex could never say with words. She placed her lips a breath way from Alex’s. “I know because I feel it whenever you walk into a room,” she said. “I feel it when I hear the sound of your voice.”
“Cass—”
“Shh. Always thinking,” Cassidy said. “Stop trying to explain. Show me.”
The fluffy white sweater that Cassidy wore fell softly over her breasts. Alex licked her lips and cupped Cassidy’s breasts through the material that clung to her. Her mouth descended over Cassidy’s. She accepted Cassidy’s invitation to explore. She lifted Cassidy’s sweater and reluctantly pulled away from their kiss to remove it. Piece by piece, Alex stripped Cassidy of everything that concealed her body. She unconsciously licked her lips when her treasure was revealed. “Perfect.” She cupped Cassidy’s breast with the palm of her hand. Her thumb teased Cassidy’s nipple, and she watched with excitement as Cassidy’s eyelids fluttered against the sensation.
“Take me to bed,” Cassidy requested.
Alex grinned deviously. “Not yet.”
Cassidy’s eyes popped wide.
“No one is here,” Alex said. “Just us. I want you right here. Right now.”
Cassidy wet her lips with her tongue. It had been a while since they made love unrestrained. Four children in a house, any one of whom might come knocking, hadn’t diminished passion in their lovemaking. It did temper their spirit of adventure. It had taken time for Cassidy to coax Alex’s playful side in the bedroom. She craved Alex’s assertiveness as much as she cherished her tenderness. “Right here?” she asked.
Alex dropped her mouth to Cassidy’s breasts, lavishing each with a flutter of kisses. Her hands mapped out the curves of Cassidy’s hips as her tongue continued to dance over straining nipples. It was perfect. She held Cassidy in place when Cassidy attempted to arch into her. Cassidy’s movements were a silent request for more. Alex wanted to hear the request. She lifted her eyes to meet Cassidy’s and then her lips to Cassidy’s mouth. “You want me to show you,” Alex whispered. “I want you to tell me.”
Cassidy gasped with excitement. “Tell you that I want you?”
“Right here.” Alex sucked on Cassidy’s earlobe.
“Right here,” Cassidy agreed. “Do you know how many times you’ve kissed me in our kitchen—just playfully, and I wished that you would lift me onto the counter and take me?”
A steady throb built inside Alex’s core. How many times had she imagined—fantasized about touching Cassidy in the middle of the day? Responsibilities and realities be damned. It was easy to forget amid all the roles they each played that they were still two women; two women who felt the heat of desire and the need for connection. Alex wanted the world to fall away now; every part of it except Cassidy. She sought the woman she loved—naked and vulnerable, wanting, and desperate. She intended to break Cassidy into pieces with the potency of lust and put her back together with reverent kisses and caresses. She traced Cassidy’s lips with her tongue. “Tell me,” Alex demanded. Her thumbs circled Cassidy’s nipples.
Anything that Alex requested, Alex would receive. Cassidy moaned. Her body was humming with energy. “I think about it all the time,” she confessed. “Touching you. Feeling you. You inside me. Me taking you.”
Alex’s mouth wandered lower, tasting the flesh of Cassidy’s stomach. Her fingertips continued to play with Cassidy’s breasts—one, then the other—both at the same time. She tugged and teased until Cassidy’s words transformed into desperate pleas. “You don’t have to ask me,” Alex said. “Tell me and I’ll show you.”
Jesus. Cassidy’s knees were quivering already. She often voiced desires to Alex, often teased Alex with her words before touching her intimately. Alex tended towards endearments and declarations. Cassidy adored that about the woman she loved. There were moments when she craved Alex’s unbridled passion. She wanted to come undone—to know that Alex wanted her as much as she was loved. “I want you inside me.”
Alex groaned and explored Cassidy’s softness with two fingers. “So soft,” she muttered.
Cassidy’s head fell back. She arched against Alex again, silently begging for more—to be possessed by Alex, in all the ways that only Alex could fill her. “Please,” she begged
. “Alex, please.”
Request granted. Alex wasted no more time on teasing. She thrust one finger into Cassidy, then two. Cassidy cried out. Alex’s mouth dropped to Cassidy’s center, deftly exploring Cassidy’s arousal with her teeth and tongue. Her fingers pumping in a steady rhythm.
“Yes,” Cassidy hissed. “Only you,” she said. “It’s only ever been you, Alex.”
“Mm.”
“Only you could do this to me,” Cassidy confessed. “Make me come apart. There can never be enough,” she said.
There could never be enough. Alex agreed. She thrust into Cassidy deeper and was rewarded with a series of uncharacteristic expletives. Her core clenched with the need to be touched. She felt Cassidy’s legs tremble, and she rose to her feet again. Her fingers continued their sensual assault as she looked in Cassidy’s eyes. “How do you do that?”
Cassidy held onto Alex. She tried to answer but the feel of Alex’s fingers twirling inside her stole her words.
“Like that,” Alex surmised. “God, I love to feel you,” she said. “I love to watch you. I love to hear you.”
“Alex,” Cassidy panted. “Please.”
“What do you want, Cass?”
“Let me touch you. Please.”
The desperation in Cassidy’s voice was Alex’s undoing. She stepped back and tugged the jeans from her legs.
“All of it,” Cassidy ordered.
Alex pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it aside, then her bra. She pulled Cassidy back to her. “Everything,” she mumbled.
“What?” Cassidy asked.
“You,” she said. “You’re everything.”
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