Rose studied Kane's face--that face she dreamt about for eight long months. His beautiful, masculine carved features and his vivid piercing green eyes took her breath away. She couldn't look too long at him, afraid he'd see her reaction. From the window of her cell and the workout yard, she'd watched him just like a stalker might. Looking had turned into longing. He was a strong, confident male, definitely one who was skilled in his chosen profession. She watched other males, all strong as well, step back when he walked through a small crowd, yet he always seemed to treat everyone fairly. She loved everything about him from his wide shoulders to the strong lines in his face and his sudden, heart-stopping smile.
She had dreamt of him long before she betrayed him. Wanting him. Building fantasies and unrealistic dreams until she became almost obsessed with him. When Whitney insisted on bringing in those horrible men with their lecherous smiles, uncaring that she didn't want them, men willing to force her, she'd become a desperate woman who would do anything to escape. A woman who would sell another human being into a living hell to gain her own freedom. She swallowed hard and looked away, ashamed of her need and her cowardice. She sold him out, and even now, she couldn't let him go.
"Rose, what is it?"
His voice was so gentle it turned her heart over. She felt his baby kick inside her, a strong reminder she would always have a part of him. The soup tasted like ashes now, the seeds of guilt and shame stripping her of all appetite. She placed the bowl on the nightstand. He was a man of honor, and she'd taken his pride, forced him into an untenable position with no way out. He loathed himself for getting her pregnant, and no matter how many times she told him it had been her choice, her decision, he refused to allow her to shoulder the blame. He was waiting patiently for her to answer his simple question--"What is it?"--but the answer wasn't nearly as simple as the question.
"I'm sorry I got you into this, Kane, but I'm not sorry you're here with me. I'm afraid."
There. She'd admitted it out loud. If the truth were told, she was terrified. She was so tired and she desperately needed to rest, to spend twenty-four hours without fear.
She'd been alone for so long, scared for herself and for the baby. She looked up at him, ashamed, but unable to lie to him. "I need you."
She loved his face, all those hard lines, his strong jaw, those cool, clear eyes. There was no subterfuge in Kane. He didn't have a hidden agenda--not like she had. He didn't lie about how he felt. He didn't hide the fact that his body wanted her and he was uncomfortable with it. She doubted if there were too many men like him in the world. She didn't need just anyone; she needed him.
"I figured that out when I came up behind you in the room and you didn't put up much resistance." He smoothed back the hair falling around her face and ran the pad of his thumb down her skin.
Rose tried not to shiver. Just as he'd entered the room where she waited for the informant, she'd inhaled and drawn his scent deep into her body, down into her lungs. She'd wanted to hold him there forever. She'd been so shocked that Kane had been the one to come for the hostages. Could a woman fall in love with a man just by observing him? By watching him through a window? She was afraid she lived in a dream world, not reality, because she had been alone and frightened far too long. There was no one else but Kane. Who else did she have? The other women in the compound had escaped and scattered to the winds, leaving her to face the birth of her baby alone. She wanted to burrow into him, stay in his arms where she felt safe, where she felt she finally had a sanctuary.
He thought he'd hurt her when he'd had sex with her, that she had chosen him as the lesser of all evils--and maybe that was true to a small extent--but he'd made her feel beautiful and special when no one ever had. He made her feel as if she mattered for the first time in her life. He'd been so gentle. She dreamt of him nearly every night, and now, being so close to him, the image of him rising above her, his body locked deep inside hers, flooded her mind and refused to leave.
"Rose," he prompted. "Talk to me about Jimenez. I think it's important. How did you meet the man?"
"Diego moved into the apartment across the street from mine."
"After you, then. You were already established in your apartment?"
Rose nodded, her heart beginning to pound. She knew where this was going now, and she couldn't believe she'd allowed herself to be duped.
"Who lived in that apartment when you first arrived? And why did they leave?"
She was so tired. She just wanted to weep. And go to sleep. She shifted, a subtle movement, sliding closer to him, dropping her head on his chest. He had one of those thick chests that inspired fantasies and made a woman feel perfectly safe. She was very fond of his chest--a little hard though--but she found the perfect spot for her head. His arms closed around her, and her heart jumped. So did the baby. She closed her eyes and took his hand to press his palm to her belly where their child played. Beneath his palm, the baby pushed as if in greeting.
Rose expected him to pull his hand away, but his fingers, beneath hers, spread wide to take in more. She relaxed a little, allowing some of the tension to ease from her body. "There was a multi-generation family in the apartment when I first moved in. It was crowded, so I just figured they'd found a bigger place to live."
"Had they told anyone they were moving?"
She was disgusted with herself. The family had children. The kids would have talked to their friends about leaving, and word would have gone along the street and through the neighborhood like wildfire. That was how it worked, and yet she hadn't even given it a thought that the family had moved in the night and the elderly gentleman had moved in the next day. She sighed out loud, letting him know she was aware of screwing up. "No, they hadn't told anyone. There was no gossip. I heard them leave, of course. I heard everything. A truck came, and men I assumed were friends loaded the furniture onto the truck."
"Had you ever seen the friends before?"
"No. And now that I'm thinking about it, I didn't see any of the family the entire day prior to the move. Not even their son, and he always was in the street with the other boys in the neighborhood. I can't believe I just walked right into their trap."
"Whitney plays games, Rose. He loves to play his games."
"I don't understand." There were tears in her voice, burning her eyes, clogging her throat. She was so damned tired. She didn't want to appear weak to him--he already thought she didn't have a brain in her head and she was out of shape--but the thought of Whitney still orchestrating her life depressed her beyond belief.
His palm brushed caresses over her belly, a soothing motion that not only calmed the restless baby but eased some of the tension out of her. "He has to have some sort of way to track you, Rose, and when you managed to elude his private little army of psycho GhostWalkers, he thought you were worthy enough to play one of his games."
Rose was silent, turning over the idea in her mind. She couldn't remember a time in her life when she had been anywhere but a military compound training for combat. Whitney had watched every move they made. There had been no privacy, everything documented as if he were studying insects under glass. He had often tried to pit them against one another when they were little girls. He had tried hard to make them rivals, and then later, wanted them cohesive, working as a unit. Yes, he liked psychological warfare. Everything was an experiment to him. He liked to create situations, sit back, and see what developed, and found amusement in watching them all figure out what he was doing.
"How is he tracking me, Kane?"
He frowned up at the ceiling. "I don't know yet, sweetheart, but it has to be by satellite, and the feed is intermittent, which explains why he keeps losing you between the times he sends his team after you. And it explains why, once he knew you were in this country, he decided to isolate you in a spot where he could send a team in under the radar and pick you up."
"Before I have the baby?"
"I don't think so. I think he'll wait until you're vulnerable and weak. He wants you both,
and he knows you're going to fight him."
She turned her head up to look at him, although she continued to rest against his chest. "Then we have time."
"If I'm right. It makes sense. If you buy Jimenez's story and retreat here to wait for the birth of your baby, all he has to do is wait until he's certain you had the baby and send in his force. You'll be weak and vulnerable. You'll be afraid the child will get hurt, and he'll have all the leverage he'll need to use against you. Cooperate or you won't see your child. That's Whitney's logic, and it's actually sound."
"Except you're here, and he doesn't know that."
"The mission was covert, and he has no idea anyone was sent in, let alone my particular team. But he'll find out eventually. He has sources placed high in the administration."
"I need to rest, Kane. Just a day or two. Hopefully my body will settle down and I can move without risking an early birth."