Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
Hillary again drifted in that soft, hazy space between sleep and wakefulness, a warm weight anchoring her in place. Her head rested on Russ's chest, rising and falling with each steady breath he took, and his arm was draped protectively around her. She felt cocooned, a rare sensation of safety she hadn’t experienced in a long time.
For a brief moment, she didn’t pull away. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up to find his face, peaceful and relaxed in sleep, the morning light casting a soft glow across his features. His dark lashes rested against his cheek, his expression devoid of the worry and intensity that usually hardened his face. She let herself linger there, savoring the moment in a way she knew she shouldn’t.
Hillary closed her eyes again, sinking deeper into the warmth of his embrace. In this fleeting, in-between moment, she let herself imagine that maybe, just maybe, this could be her life. That if she stayed still enough, the troubles and complexities of their situation would fade away, and they could simply be two people sharing a morning together.
But the reality was there, right below the surface, reminding her the connection, the closeness, was built in the shadow of danger. Still, she didn’t move. She let herself pretend a little longer, willing the peace to last a few more moments.
Russ stirred beside her, his arm tightening instinctively as he started to wake. Hillary’s pulse quickened, and before he could fully come to, she gently freed herself, rolling away to create a little distance. But before she got far, his hand found her wrist, and with a sleepy murmur, he pulled her back against him.
“Russ...” she whispered, her voice low, half a protest, half a question, as if his name alone could pull him into full wakefulness and out of this cozy closeness. Surely, if he were truly awake, he wouldn’t be holding her this way, keeping her so near, as though this was something they did every morning.
He opened his eyes, blinking down at her, a drowsy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Five more minutes,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep. “Just... let’s stay here five more minutes.”
She felt her heart stumble, the soft plea catching her off guard. Her gaze held his, searching his face for signs of hesitation or regret, but all she found was warmth and something unspoken in his eyes.
“Okay,” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper as she settled back against him, letting her guard down enough to enjoy this fleeting moment. His arm wrapped around her again, and she nestled her head against his chest, feeling his heart beat steady and reassuring under her cheek.
They lay there in silence, the only sound the quiet rhythm of their breaths mingling in the early morning light. She let herself relax, sinking into the warmth and comfort of his hold, willing time to slow, to make those five minutes stretch on indefinitely.
Hillary lay there, her cheek resting against Russ’s chest, feeling the warmth of his arm around her, but her mind was far away, drifting back to the series of choices that had brought her to this improbable moment. This was never supposed to be her case—this was supposed to be her sister Mia’s case. Brave, levelheaded Mia, who’d been working with the Kinross organization for over five years, helping people escape impossible situations, making life-and-death calls with unshakeable calm and impeccable judgment.
It was Mia who knew how to handle situations like this, who understood protocol and carried the weight of each case with a strength that Hillary had always admired. Mia, the sister who had always been reliable, who never missed a step, never faltered. And Hillary... she had been the screw-up of the family, the one who’d tried to fit into that mold and failed time and again. Her choices hadn’t exactly inspired confidence, least of all from her own family.
When Mia had called, sick with the flu, Hillary had jumped at the chance to step in, thinking it would be a quick, simple thing—a way to prove herself, maybe even earn a bit of her sister’s respect. All she had to do was pretend to be Mia for a day, to gather statements, collect the evidence from Russ and Topeka, and then she’d be done. It was supposed to be one night’s work, in and out, no complications.
But everything had gone sideways and suddenly, like usual, Hillary was in over her head. And now here she was, tangled up with Russ in this strange, unexpected way, lying in this bed, in a place she didn’t belong, doing something she wasn’t even sure how to define.
If Mia were here, she’d know exactly what to do. She’d keep her emotions in check, handle everything with a calm professionalism that Hillary could only admire from a distance. Mia would never be lying here, letting herself feel things she had no business feeling, losing herself in the comfort of Russ’s arms. What she really wanted was to get her sister’s advice.
But they had to stay completely radio silent, no contact with anyone on the outside. That was the deal. And it was killing her, the thought of Mia out there somewhere, worried, wondering if her little sister was safe.
She blinked against the burn of tears, burying her face against Russ’s chest for a moment, grateful that he couldn’t see the vulnerability threatening to spill over. It was the whimper that gave her away. She was crying and Russ wasn’t the kind of man who would pretend he didn’t notice.