Chapter 2
Allie reached her door in three quick strides. She fumbled with her keycard, holding her breath—because for some reason, she was afraid if she breathed she would lose her feeble hold on her emotions.
The keycard light finally turned green, and she slipped into her room.
Sure enough, her first deep breath summoned the inevitable tears.
She sat on the edge of her bed trying to untangle the knot of feelings Knox had managed to resurrect.
The effect he had on her was exponentially stronger than before—despite her best efforts.
Their argument from three months ago replayed in her mind.
Knox had suspected her brother, Leo, of embezzlement and money laundering.
She hadn't believed it. And she'd made that very clear.
She hadn't believed her brother could do such things, and she'd felt confident—too confident—that if her brother was doing something illegal, she would pick up on it.
She would see the signs. Because that was her job—detecting deception, ferreting out the lies.
But she'd been wrong. And when she stormed into Knox's surveillance of Leo and his associates—because how dare Knox spy on her innocent brother—bullets started flying.
Knox had been hiding in the shadows of a warehouse, surveilling a meeting between Leo and two other men. Allie found out about the operation and—convinced of her brother's innocence—marched right in and blew Knox's cover.
That's when Leo aimed at Knox and pulled the trigger. And her world shattered.
Fortunately, Leo had been thirty yards away from Knox in the dark warehouse, and was a terrible shot to begin with, or Knox would be dead.
Leo's three associates opened fire on Knox and Allie while Leo hightailed it out a back door. Knox's aim kept two of the shooters pinned down, but the third rounded a stack of crates, and zeroed in on Allie.
They both fired. The shooter's bullet caught Allie in the leg. Her shot found his chest.
When the other two realized their partner was dead, they took off through the same exit Leo had used a minute earlier.
Allie gripped her thigh, letting the memories sear through her. She'd leaned against the cold warehouse wall, watching her leg bleed, feeling like she deserved it. She still did.
She'd taken a man's life. Yes, it was technically self-defense. But if she'd trusted Knox's instincts about her brother and let him continue with his surveillance that night, it could have all been avoided. All of it. And her brother would be in custody.
Knox had stayed with Allie, attending to her leg and waiting for the ambulance, instead of chasing the other two shooters and Leo.
Her brother got away that night—as in, left the country.
He texted Allie en route to who-knows-where to make sure she was okay.
And he briefly texted a few other times.
Not with anything interesting, just making small talk.
She wondered if Leo felt guilty, but she may never know.
Unfortunately, those few texts were the reason Allie and Knox hadn't been able to text freely.
The FBI started monitoring Allie's phone, hoping it would aid them in locating Leo.
She'd given them permission. She knew it was a good idea.
But it also meant she couldn't communicate with Knox without the FBI listening in or reading texts.
Knox did send a few simple texts during her recovery, asking how she was. She always answered with some version of "I'm feeling better" or "my leg is healing."
He never visited in person because, apparently, her parents made a scene about forbidding him to come near her in the hospital—"three times", a nurse told her. Harlon and Gail Harkwood could be . . . a bit much. The nurse's story was believable.
So, she couldn't blame Knox for not visiting her in her hospital room.
Then, when she was released, it was decided she should recuperate at her parents' home since her apartment was on the second floor with no elevator access.
She couldn't argue with the logic, but again, it meant there was no easy way to see Knox.
She hadn't hoped their relationship was intact at that point—she just wanted to apologize.
The compassion on his face when she was in his room just now . . . made her heart want to burst. His blue eyes were as kind as she remembered. And he was no less attractive than she remembered.
In the weeks leading up to that terrible night, she and Knox had grown close.
There was an undeniable attraction the first time they met on a mission in Morocco.
He made her laugh. And made her feel safe.
She quickly grew more and more impressed with Agent Knox Coulter.
And then one night, they located a group of men they'd been searching for—men who'd stolen some valuable jewelry from their client.
Before they moved in to confront the men and reclaim their client's property, Knox stopped to pray with her.
He prayed for Allie, for guidance, for their safety, and for the men they were about to confront.
She would never forget the warmth she felt all the way to her core when he held her hands and spoke to Jesus like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Knox was good at tracking down bad guys.
And he was good at fighting bad guys. But he also knew when to stop and ask God for wisdom.
She admired and respected him so much . . . the memory tightened her chest.
If she'd stopped and prayed for wisdom before blowing Knox's surveillance of her brother, she wouldn't have been shot. She wouldn't have killed a man that night. And maybe . . . maybe she wouldn't have ruined her chances for a future with Knox.
She would need to earn back his respect, if that was possible.
How could Knox respect, much less care for her, if he couldn't trust her to do her job?
She should have known Leo was involved in something illegal.
She should have detected his lies. Why hadn't she known her brother was such a good liar?
If all she could prove was that Knox could trust her professionally, she would at least do that. She would be laser-focused on this mission. Knox and Jason both would realize she could still read the bad guys in a crowd, recognize the tells. She wouldn't let them down.
Swiping the tears from her eyes, she stared at the opposite wall, knowing he was standing on the other side.
She knew what triggered the tears. She could be honest with herself at least. She still cared for him.
Having him so close and knowing he didn't care for her was far more painful than she'd anticipated.
This mission was going to have its challenges.
Sharing a wall with Knox Coulter was not going to be easy.
Knox tried to focus on what Jason was saying. He honestly tried. But he'd heard most of it already. This meeting was mostly for Rowan and Allie's benefit.
Several of the resort owners on the Morghana islands, including Mr. Drakos, the proprietor of The Mandeville, had hired WhiteRock to investigate a growing concern—a company with ties to organized crime in other countries was purchasing land in Morghana.
Technically, the company, Byron Industries, hadn't committed any crimes on the Morghana Islands, but the resort owners were leery. They offered a variety of reasons for their unease, but it mostly boiled down to, "bad for business."
They requested WhiteRock find out what the undesirable party intended to do with these properties and to assess whether they could be dissuaded from moving any of their "business" to Morghana.
Not that all the resort owners were upstanding, moral citizens—most of them would happily host the same criminals as paying guests of their resorts.
One of the draws of the Morghana island resorts is that Morghana is a non-extradition country.
The resort owners—unofficially—ran things on the Morghana islands.
And they didn't need any undesirable operations scaring off their guests or competing with their business.
The selling point for WhiteRock was the FBI's interest in Morghana. The FBI contracted out to WhiteRock on occasion, primarily for intel. They offered to contribute funding for this mission in exchange for all intelligence WhiteRock collected. And that was a contract WhiteRock couldn't refuse.
Jason, Knox, Allie, and Rowan sat around an eight-foot conference table in recently repurposed Room 336.
Mr. Drakos converted Room 336 into a command center of sorts, for the use of WhiteRock.
The conversion mainly consisted of removing the king-size bed and adding a second computer desk, conference table, and a whiteboard.
It provided a more professional setting, but it did nothing to keep Knox's thoughts from focusing on Allie.
He kept his eyes on Jason, but his mind couldn't concentrate on anything but Allie's confusing behavior in his room earlier.
She actually apologized. Why? He was the one who should be apologizing.
He should have protected her that night in the warehouse.
She wouldn't have gotten shot if it weren't for him.
He should have known she would show up that night.
He knew she didn't want to believe the worst about her brother. Who would?
He never blamed her for anything. Why did she say she needed to earn back his trust?
Maybe she was trying to make their situation sound more professional, to spare his feelings. He'd ruined the trust and attraction growing between them with his colossal failure that night. He should have anticipated better. He should have protected her.
This was so messed up. Had she really been thinking he thought less of her these past three months?