Chapter 18
Mykonos, Greece
Her heart felt like a battering ram as he sat next to her. Jaw clenched tight, she dared him to tell her this was for her own benefit, for her “safety.” But the minutes ticked by with him just sitting there, perched on the side, forearms on his knees. Head down.
Good. He should be ashamed of himself.
“It’s better—”
“Do not try to justify this!” she snapped, rage radiating through her with a thrumming chill. “You promised you would not abandon me.”
“This is not me abandoning you,” he said in a low, dangerous tone. “Going to Yemen is about me finding my dad. It doesn’t help your cause or dad. Endangering your life doesn’t—”
“Stop making this about me!” She swung her legs over the side to face him.
“This is about you being selfish. About you finding a way to get what you want—a flight to Yemen at no cost. You do not care about me or what I need to do. All you care about is yourself!” She stomped to her feet and started away, unwilling to listen to his excuses.
“Cove, that’s not fair!”
“D’accordo!” She whirled around and found him immediately behind her, forcing her to draw back. “It is not fair. Mio papà is missing. That is his warehouse you want to go look at. Those photos show our fathers there. Together. Yet you treat me like a dog, telling me to stay.”
“It’s not that,” Dillon countered. “I go into these places without thought for myself, but I know I could die trying to find my dad. I can deal with that. What I can’t accept is putting your life in danger!”
“Oh, so it is okay for you to risk everything for your father and be heroic. But me? I cannot do the same for mine?”
He tightened his mouth and a fist, letting out a growl. “That is not what I said.”
“But it is what you meant!”
“No. Cove—c’mon.”
She backed up, shaking her head. “My mistake for believing it when you said your character and integrity were important to you. That we had a deal!”
Fire sparking in his eyes, he lifted his hands as if he wanted to box something—her, apparently. “If to you ‘keeping you safe’ means I don’t have character and integrity, then so be it.” He shifted in, all but snarling, “You called it.”
Furious he would not listen, that he was so stinking arrogant, she let her own growl escape. “You are a monster! I hate you!”
“Yeah? Well, this monster is keeping you safe!”
She shoved him even as her mind registered how close he was to the edge of the pool.
He stepped back to catch his balance, and his foot hit the ledge, slipped down. He flung out his arms to avoid falling. They windmilled.
Cove gasped and caught his hand. But his momentum proved too powerful. Yanked her forward. For a fraction of a second, he steadied himself, but his pull upended her balance. She tipped forward. Thumped into him, sending them both into the pool.
His arms clamped onto her as they splashed, and she snapped her mouth shut.
Water rushed over her, hollowing her hearing.
She broke away. Felt the bottom of the pool—the shallow end, thank heaven!
—and vaulted upward. Breaking the surface, she gasped, then shielded herself as he erupted.
Fury coiled through her, and she just dared him to rage at her.
Instead, he whipped his head to the side to clear the water. It splatted her face even as he used a hand to jiggle the water from his ears.
“Mostro!” she spat.
Dillon met her gaze beneath the warm glow of the terrace and pool lights and the moonlight. He looked like a drowned rat, even with the crooked smile that split his intense features.
A laugh bubbled up through her, but she fought it—she was furious!
Should not be laughing. Yet one glimpse into those dark eyes and the choked laugh erupted.
But seeing his smile just made her angry all over again.
She hated this—his relegating her to the wings of the runway when he was about to take flight.
Literally. Hurt pushed her gaze away. She did not want to look at him or let him see her crying!
Aware of her shirt sticking to her, she tried to pry it free as she turned to leave the pool. She could not deal with—
“Cove.”
She kept moving, having to slog her sodden self toward the steps out of the pool.
Hustling, Dillon sloshed past her. “Hey, listen…” He moved into her path, forcing her to straighten and stop. “I don’t want to leave you.”
That stalled her heart, but she refused to believe him. “Then don’t.” She braved his dark, beautiful eyes lurking beneath that strong brow.
“I’ve been alone for thirty-two months,” he said, his voice heavy, low.
“In a dozen countries, sleeping beneath stars in alleys and rooftops. Scared, on the run, evading attention and authorities. I’ve dealt with it, gotten used to it.
But being with you the last few days has been…
perfect.” He smiled, eyes hooded as he shifted a step closer.
“Having someone to talk to, help me work things through, fight with—your help in the tunnel… I would still be there, likely stuck in that compression point, if it weren’t for you.
” His hand slipped to her face, cupping her cheek, awakening a swarm of nervous jellies in her belly.
“I never fathomed…you. Amazing, intelligent…beautiful you.”
The words were glorious and warm, tugging hard on her heartstrings.
“I could never live with myself if something happened to you,” he said, his thumb tracing her cheek. “It’s dangerous.”
“You are dangerous,” she said quietly, only then realizing the distance between them had shrunk again. His proximity and dark eyes sent her pulse racing. Was he going to kiss her?
Kiss me goodbye is more likely.
“I…our time has been incredible—a gift. A blazing star in one of the darkest times of my life.” His arm encircled her waist as he angled in, gaze homing in on her lips. His mouth captured hers.
Pulling in a breath, Cove considered pushing him away again but…it was a good kiss. A gentle one. As if asking permission. She found herself melting into it, surprised when he crushed her to himself and deepened the kiss.
There was a shift beyond her closed eyes. A…flickering. Was that the heavens rejoicing like her heart?
Dillon pulled back, gaze hooded as he considered her, then around her. “What…?”
It took a second for her to realize the so-called heavens rejoicing was actually the exterior lights turning on and off. She frowned, seeing only the pool lights blinking… She looked up at the house.
“What’s going on?” Dillon asked, hand on her waist still.
And then she knew. “Santo cielo,” she muttered. “I think my zio can see us.”
His brows lifted. “He’s doing that with the lights?”
Cove let out a nervous laugh. “He is…protective,” she said, leaving his touch and hating the chill that came with its absence.
“Try creepy.”
Still a little stunned he’d just kissed her, she made herself keep moving. “I, uh…” She slogged up out of the pool. “I’m going to change.”
“Cove.”
She paused and robotically turned to look over her shoulder, un-suctioning her clothes from her body.
“I meant”—palming the edge of the pool, he cocked his head back to where they’d kissed—“all of that.”
With the passion he had shown, she had no doubt. Even though that comment was about not wanting to leave her, the fact remained that he still planned to.
The heavy weight of his abandonment pushed her up to the house, each step thick with grief.
After a quick shower to wash the pool chemicals from her hair, she changed into lounge pants and an oversized hoodie.
For a second, she considered filling a backpack and trailing Dillon in secrecy tomorrow.
Forcing her way onto the plane. Would it work? Did she have anything to lose?
Heart and mind confused—that had been a perfect kiss—she slumped onto the corner of the bed, staring out the window at the glittering black sea in the distance.
Though she wanted to be mad at him, she knew he did not owe her a single thing.
They had made a deal, but he clearly found a better one.
Why in heaven was she being so ridiculous?
She barely knew this man! They had been together through insurmountable odds over three full days.
But that was it—three days. She scoffed at herself.
Three days and she expected them to be…appiccicati?
No, not stuck together but… It felt like her heart had always known him.
All that time in the tunnels, fleeing the gunmen…
hiding in the stable…she had never felt safer.
Never once felt unsafe. On top of that, their time together had filled her with a strong hope that she could finally prove Papà’s innocence.
Papà…
She recalled the men dragging him to the chopper. Him collapsing, then being hauled into the helicopter. Closing her eyes, she sagged. Santo cielo, it was too much. So much. Mamma’s death, Papà’s scandal and kidnapping, being chased… Now losing Dillon and hope.
Warmth settled on her knee, startling her out of the chaos, yanking her from the morose to the strong, tanned, callused hand resting there. Her chest tightened.
Dillon sat on the leather ottoman at the foot of the bed, peering up at her as he set the backpack to the side. “I’m sorry, Cove.”
Rolling her eyes, she chewed her lower lip to ward off more tears.
Was he apologizing for abandoning her or the kiss?
Perhaps both. “You are not.” On her feet, she moved into the bathroom and grabbed a hair tie.
“You are getting what you want, and that is what matters to you.” Returning to her bedroom, she tied her hair up into a messy bun atop her head.
Standing, Dillon seemed distraught, his brow knotted and deep brown eyes churning in desperation. “I want you safe.”
Arms folded, she tried to plaster a facade of utter calm.
“I understand. You have a mission, and my coming along would compromise that.” But instead of actually saying that, the words came out completely different, wrong: “And what if ‘safe’ is only found with you?” Her heart rattled in her chest, the words echoing in her ears.
Suddenly embarrassed, she flung a hand to him. “Forget I said that.”
His chest rose and fell unevenly. “I will never forget you saying that.”
Rubbing the back of her neck, she avoided his gaze and peered out the window.
Ironically, she saw her own reflection there—and him moving in behind her, closer.
“Don’t,” she warned. “I am fine. We do not even know each other.” She sniffed, proud of herself for getting those words out.
“It has only been three days.” She nodded, trying to convince herself. “I will be fine tomorrow.”
But she would not. Because when he left, she would never see him again. The realization made her throat constrict, ache.
“I don’t deserve you,” he said in a husky voice.
She laughed, pushing herself away from him, struggling against the powerful draw to be in his arms again. “That is pretty evident.” Oh, she hated the cruel words as soon as they left her mouth. She winced and tried to flash him a smile that felt more like a grimace. “Sorry.”
“It’s truth I can own.” He nodded, then looked down. Pinched his shirt. “I…uh, borrowed the jeans and shirt from your uncle, but just double-checking before I take a change of clothes or two…”
Blinking at him, she couldn’t quite process what he was asking. Then her brain came out of the fugue, right into the hard wall of the obvious—he was moving on. Already. No regard for her trampled heart. But she had said she would be fine. “Help yourself. He will not care.”
Dillon gave her a long look, then bobbed his head and headed down the hall.
While she was hurt that he would leave, that his promises were effectively null and void, she would not be bitter. Because as much as she hated it, hated admitting it, there was not much reason for her to chase Yemen. If Papà had been seen down there recently, the fires of Hades would not stop her.
Recalling what Dillon said about how he got money to pay for food and supplies, she grabbed the cash from her backpack and went in search of him. She found him in Zio Santi’s room, meticulously folding a couple of black T-shirts. Those dark eyes rose to her when she entered.
Afraid she might change her mind, she hurried forward and extended the euros. “Here.”
Dillon took a long second to pry his gaze from her to the money and straighten. “Why?”
Wagging it, she sighed. “You will need it.”
Tentatively, he reached for the money. “Does this mean you don’t hate me?”
“Do not push your luck,” she said with a smile that never quite made it to her lips.
Regretfully, he accepted the money, then set it in the pack before closing the gap between them. “I’d like to come back to you after I find my dad.”
She widened her eyes, those words detonating the last vestiges of her anger. But he was still leaving her… “I bet you say that to all the girls you meet.”
A storm moved through his dark eyes and brows. “I get that you feel there’s just cause to question my integrity…but there have been no other girls since I left home.”
Feeling that splash of warmth in her belly again, Cove grew acutely aware of the distance vanishing between them once more. “Why…?”
He frowned. “Why haven’t there been other girls?”
“No—I—” She rubbed her forehead, frustrated that she could not think clearly with him so close. “Why do you want to come back?”
“Thought I made that obvious in the pool,” he said with a smirk, his fingers entwining hers. “Cove, I’ve never felt like this about anyone. You weren’t on my radar or plans.”
“Still not, apparently,” she murmured, feeling petty and childish.
“I know you hate me—”
“No,” she countered quickly. Maybe too quickly. “I could not hate you. But you have hurt me. We had a deal…” She twisted her mouth to the side, trying to avoid crying.
Dillon drew her into an embrace. Pressed a kiss to her ear. “I know… I’m sorry. I just want you safe.”
Coiling her arms around his waist, she savored the hug, his strength, then whispered, “But I’m safe with you.”
He shifted his head to look at her, then kissed her again.
A light flared near them.
Breaking the soft kiss, Dillon huffed. “Does he have cameras everywhere?”
But that’s when her mind registered the truth and she gasped. “That’s not him.” She pointed to the wall-mounted TV that had sprung to life. A red banner across the bottom made her heart plummet. “A door opened on the lower level.”
Dillon tensed. “Aren’t we the only ones here?”
She nodded, snatching up the remote. On the screen, she accessed the security feeds. “Yes, and it’s too late for staff…” Scanning the various camera feeds, she spotted a shadow moving and gasped. “The basement! Look—”
“Gunmen!”