His mother chuckled. “Yes, I suspect you’re right.”

She patted his cheek and cast one last look in Sophie’s direction. “I’m going to go back to Garrett. I expect he’ll be grumpier than a hungry rattlesnake when he comes around. I’ll need to make sure he doesn’t scare off the nurses with all his growling.”

Sam laughed and rose to hug her. For a long moment he just hung on to her. She felt very precious in his arms. He had a lot to be grateful for. He owed her life to Sophie.

“I can arrange to have you go home ahead of us so you can get back to Dad. He needs you.”

She hugged him fiercely. “Right now my sons need me more. I’m not going home without Garrett. Your father would have a kitten if I even thought of leaving. He’d want me to be here.”

She pulled away, gripped his arms and stared hard at him. “I know you’re worried about Sophie, but you need rest, Sam. Even a couple hours in the chair would be better than nothing. You said yourself she’d be out for a while.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Okay, Ma. I’ll rest. Promise.”

After a final pat to his cheek, she turned and walked out of the room.


SOPHIE opened her eyes, and the first thing she saw was Sam slouched in a chair beside her bed, his head tilted sideways in what looked like an extremely uncomfortable position.

She was on her side, her casted hand resting on her hip. Her other hand was tucked underneath her pillow. Not wanting to move, she lay there still, watching as Sam slept.

He hadn’t left her. During the helicopter ride, the landing, the hustle and bustle as the emergency room had run countless tests and the obstetrician had examined her and assured her the baby was doing well.

He’d been with her through it all, his steady, reassuring presence more comforting than anything she could imagine. No words had been exchanged. They hadn’t had a single moment alone to talk, and now that they were by themselves, she couldn’t bring herself to wake him.

He looked exhausted.

Carefully she brought her casted hand down over her belly. To her delight, the baby bumped and kicked and did a little somersault inside the womb. She glanced down, her chest tightening at the wonder of knowing her daughter was alive and well.

When she looked back up, she was surprised to see Sam watching her, his gaze intense as it drifted to her hand.

“Hi,” she whispered.

He lowered his feet from the bed and sat forward. He rubbed his hand over the stubble on his jaw and then through his hair in a weary motion.

“Hey yourself. How are you feeling?”

He scooted the chair closer and cupped his hand over her forehead. He stroked over her hair in a soothing motion, then leaned down to kiss her brow.

A light fluttery feeling rose in her chest and escaped in a breathy sigh.

“Okay. Nice actually. A little numb maybe. I feel almost disembodied. I suppose that sounds weird. I feel like I’m up high somewhere. Removed from reality.”

She dropped her gaze, embarrassed by the babbling.

“Makes perfect sense,” he said softly. “You’ve been through a lot. You’re entitled to feel a little out of it. I’m glad you’re not hurting. Is our little one moving around? I saw your hand bump a bit when you put it over your stomach.”

She smiled and then reached tentatively for his hand. She bumped awkwardly against his fingers with her cast, but she clutched on and guided him to her belly.

His face lightened, and suddenly the gray, tired look lifted as he stared in wonder at his hand.

“That’s so amazing. I wonder what she thinks of the world around her. If I were her, I’d want to stay inside her mama where it’s safe forever.”

“How is Garrett?” Sophie asked hesitantly.

“He’s good. Out of surgery. My mom was down a while ago. They removed a bullet fragment from his shoulder. He’s probably bitching with the best of them right now.”

“Thank God. I was so worried. I couldn’t have lived with myself if he’d died.”

Sam moved his hand from her belly and touched her cheek. His thumb brushed across her lips, and he stared at her with so much emotion in his eyes that her belly clenched.

“And I couldn’t have lived with myself if you had died, Sophie.”

Her chest hurt. She couldn’t breathe.

He pulled away and then stuck his hand in his pocket. He reached for her fingers with his other hand, opened them and then brought the hand from his pocket and laid something on her palm. She looked down to see the key she’d dropped into Garrett’s pocket.

She sucked in her breath and stared at the shiny piece of metal lying across her hand. Then she looked back at Sam, searching for an explanation.

He closed her fingers over it and stared intently back at her.

“You decide, Sophie.”

Warmth traveled up her body and wrapped around her heart.

She opened her mouth to respond, but a knock sounded at the door. To her surprise, Adam Resnick stuck his head in, but he didn’t make any move to enter. Sam looked at her and waited.

“Come in,” she called softly.

He had an unlit cigarette tucked between his lips and his hands shoved into his pockets as he cleared the entryway.

“Sophie,” he said around the cigarette, and then as if remembering it was there, he hastily reached up and snatched it from his mouth.

“How are you feeling?”

“Okay. Maybe.” She laughed a little. “I’m not sure yet.”

Resnick nodded. “I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to check in on you.” He hesitated for a moment, glanced over at Sam and then focused back on her. “And I wanted to thank you.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Thank me? I didn’t do anything.”

“You did more than you think. Your father’s network is crumbling as we speak. We’ve rounded up dozens of his followers. He and your uncle are dead. It’s only a matter of time before we take apart his system.”

She glanced down at her hand, felt the imprint of the key. And she knew what she needed to do. Sam had given her the choice. The freedom to place her trust in whom she wanted. She trusted him. And now she’d trust Resnick to do the right thing. As Sam had trusted her.

Slowly she raised her hand and extended it in Resnick’s direction. She let her fingers fall open to reveal they key.

Resnick stared at her, his brow furrowed.

“Take it,” she said huskily. “You’ll find the vault underneath my father’s home in Mexico. In it is everything that made Alex Mouton who and what he was. His wealth. His contacts. And if he was dealing in nuclear weapons, it’s all there.”

She carefully related the facts she’d given Sam when she’d first told him of the key. Resnick halted her midway through and pulled out his BlackBerry. He typed furiously as she dictated.

When she was finished, Resnick stared at her with admiration and gratitude reflected in the dark pools of his eyes.

He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out what looked like a business card. But when he handed it to her, she saw that it only had a single phone number written in ink across its surface.

“If there’s anything I can ever do, you have only to call.”

She stared at the card between her fingers. A great weight lifted from her shoulders. It was over. It was truly over. Her father was dead. Her uncle was dead. Anyone who could possibly harm her or her child was gone.

She was safe.

“I’ll leave you to rest,” Resnick said in a quiet voice.

She looked up as he turned to Sam and extended his hand. Sam stood and shook it firmly.

“Thank you,” Sam said. “I owe you now.”

Resnick shook his head. “No. Never that. I’ll be in touch.”

Sam nodded and Resnick walked out the door. When he was gone, Sam leaned over and pressed his lips to her temple.

“I’m so proud of you,” he murmured.

She turned so that their eyes met and their mouths were just a breath apart.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He trailed the back of his hand down her cheek, and she was struck by the intensity of his gaze. He was so focused on her that on another man, she’d have sworn his expression meant he was looking with all the love in his heart.

“I sat here watching while you slept, and I went over what I wanted to say to you. And then I realized how much I needed to say to you. I thought about how much we need to talk about. And it went on and on.”

He turned his hand over and palmed the side of her face. His thumb trailed over her lips, then traced the shape of her mouth.

“But then I realized that all the talking in the world doesn’t change one single fact. It doesn’t clarify it, make it better or worse. It doesn’t change what is.”

She stared at him, her heart beating so hard that she could feel her blood pulsing, hear the roaring in her ears.

“I love you, Sophie. I can’t tell you at what moment I fell in love with you. Maybe it was that first time I looked across the bar in Mexico and there you were. Maybe it was the first time we made love. Or maybe it was watching you fight for our child. And then for my mother. It doesn’t matter. I love you. That’s it. That’s all. I hope to hell it’s enough.”

Her heart squeezed. She’d always tried to imagine what it would be like to hear those words. To know that she was loved. Nothing had come close. There was so much joy. It hurt. It shouldn’t hurt, but she felt too small for her skin, like she’d burst right out of it.

“I love you too.”

She’d always imagined those three words being so difficult to say. It was so easy, so freeing. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world.