“Feeling better?” he asked, loosening his hold on me. I sat back and nodded. “Good. Let’s get you some crackers or something—how does that sound?”

“Okay,” I agreed. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

Kade helped me to my feet and left the bathroom. I quickly brushed my teeth, glad the nausea had abated, though I didn’t think I’d be eating eggs anytime soon.

By the time I came out, Kade had finished off both omelets and was putting the plates into the dishwasher. I noticed he’d thoughtfully put some soda crackers and dry toast at my place setting. I sat in the chair I’d abandoned, pulling my knees to my chest, and nibbled on a cracker.

“How did you know?” I asked.

Kade turned around to look at me, leaning back against the counter while he sipped his coffee. My gaze drifted down to the way the muscles in his chest and arm moved. The pajamas he wore rode low on his hips. A line of dark hair that began just below his navel and disappeared behind the waistband drew my eye.

“If you expect to have an actual conversation, you’ll have to keep your eyes above my waist.”

I jerked my gaze up to his, the mischief in his eyes and knowing tilt to his lips made my breath catch. I was still overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of Kade.

“Sorry,” I mumbled around the cracker I’d stuffed in my mouth. My hormones seemed to be working overtime, even after our middle-of-the-night lovemaking, and the last thing I wanted to put in my mouth was another dry cracker. I chewed and swallowed before asking again, “So how did you know?”

“Hacked your medical records,” he replied with a careless shrug before taking another sip.

My hand froze halfway to my mouth, the cracker I held, forgotten. I suddenly remembered the computer screens that he’d caused to go dark the moment I’d stepped into his office. He must have been looking at my records right then.

“You hacked—”

“Now don’t get all pissed off,” Kade interrupted, setting his coffee down and walking over to me. “Stop and think. Does it really surprise you that I’d do that?”

Well . . . no. It didn’t. But I felt like I should be mad—it was an invasion of privacy, after all. Then again, we were having a baby together. Was the privacy of my medical records from my baby’s father really a top concern right then?

Nope.

“If you weren’t still wearing bandages, then I’d be mad at you,” I said loftily.

“Then I’ll have to make sure to wear them at all times,” he shot back, pulling me to my feet. His hands drifted under the hem of my shirt, cupping my bottom through the thin pair of boxer shorts I’d found to wear.

“Oooh, boy’s underwear,” Kade breathed against my lips. “Sexy.”

My giggle was muffled by his mouth as he kissed me, then his fingers slipped inside the shorts and I stopped laughing.

* * *

Afterward, we lay in companionable silence on Kade’s bed, me on my back and Kade between my legs, his cheek resting on my stomach. My pulse was slowly returning to normal as my fingers threaded leisurely through Kade’s hair, the strands soft as corn silk.

He turned his head and placed a gentle kiss low on my abdomen, right under my navel, and my heart turned over in my chest.

“I was so afraid you’d be angry,” I said softly.

Kade looked up at me, laying an arm across my stomach and resting his chin on it.

“Why would I be angry?” he asked, frowning.

I shrugged. “Bad timing, I guess. And I just . . . didn’t know how you’d feel about it.”

Kade looked at me for a moment, his blue eyes seeing too much, then he crawled up my body until he hovered over me.

“I love you,” he said. “How could I possibly be mad about the best thing that’s ever happened to me?”

I reached up and curled my arms around his neck, pulling him down to me. My vision was blurred with tears.

“Don’t cry,” he whispered in my ear, his lips brushing away the wet tracks down the side of my face.

“I’m not crying because I’m sad,” I whispered back. “I’m crying because I’m happy.” I smiled through my tears.

“Oh. Well, I guess that’s all right then,” he said, his cocky grin returning. He flopped onto the bed beside me, swiping the wet trails from my face. “So, I have a business thing I have to do in Boston. Want to come with?”

My heart leapt. He was taking me with him. “Absolutely,” I said, my smile so wide it almost hurt, then I remembered something and my smile faded.

“What?” Kade asked, frowning.

I hesitated. “Are you—” I began, then cut myself off. I wasn’t sure how to ask what was inside my head.

“Am I what?” Kade repeated.

“Are you going to keep doing the same job?” I blurted, my face heating. I didn’t want that, didn’t want Kade to continue taking contracts as an assassin. I’d always felt that a little of his soul died every time he killed someone. He was better than that, deserved better than that. And I didn’t want to think about how dangerous his job was or how many close calls he’d no doubt had over the years.

“I told you in Vegas that I was starting something new,” he said, reaching out to play with a strand of my hair. He idly twisted the long curl around his finger.

“I know,” I said, “but after what happened, I wasn’t sure if—”

“Shhh.” He placed a finger against my lips. “I’ll make it work. I’ll keep you and the baby safe. I won’t let anything happen to you. I’m through doing what I used to do. I promise.”

Kade did not make promises. Ever. The fact that he’d just done so momentarily robbed me of speech.

“You’d do that for me?” I asked.

Kade leaned over, resting his body half atop mine, and kissed me. When he pulled back, his blue eyes stared into mine. “I’d do anything for you.”

Tears flooded my eyes again and I wrapped my arms around him, holding him as tight as I could. Finally, we parted.

“Before we go,” I said, “we have to tell Blane.”

A heavy silence fell between us at the mention of his name. Kade turned onto his back, his gaze on the ceiling.

“I’ll do it,” he offered.

“No. I should be the one to tell him.” He turned to look at me. “He deserves that much,” I said. Though I quaked inside at just the thought of that conversation.

Kade wasn’t smiling, and his brows were drawn together in a frown. The deep blue of his gaze held mine for a long moment.

“All right,” he said finally. “Tell him tonight. We leave tomorrow.”

I swallowed. “Okay.”

* * *

I tried to remember the conviction I’d felt earlier that I should be the one to do this as I stood outside Blane’s house in the deepening twilight shadows. I’d driven around the block at least half a dozen times before I finally mustered up the courage to actually park, then had taken another ten minutes before I’d convinced myself to get out of the car.

Now I stood staring at the forbidding front door, trying to persuade myself to knock. It was nearly dark and if I kept standing there, the mosquitoes were going to eat me alive.

I raised my hand just as the door suddenly swung open. I jumped back, startled, then saw it was Mona.

“Kathleen!” she exclaimed in surprise. “I wasn’t expecting you there.” She smiled and reached out to hug me. “So good to see you.”

I hugged her back. “Good to see you, too,” I replied.

We parted and I cleared my throat, glancing nervously over her shoulder into the darkened hallway.

“Um, is Blane home?” I asked, the coward in me fervently wishing he wasn’t.

“He is,” she confirmed, dashing my hopes. “I believe he’s in the library. Shall I announce you?”

I shook my head. “That’s okay. May I come in?”

“Of course.” She stepped back to let me in, then passed me as she moved out the door. “Just heading home for the evening. Good night!”

“Night, Mona,” I said.

She closed the door behind her, leaving me standing in the empty hallway.

Memories assailed me and I wondered, not for the first time, if I was doing the right thing. There was so much history between Blane and me, my feelings for him so confused, that I nearly turned around and walked out.

But I couldn’t do that. He needed to know, and didn’t deserve hearing it from someone other than me.

The door to the library was closed. I raised my hand and knocked.

“Come in,” I heard after a moment.

Tentatively, I turned the knob and pushed open the door.

“Leaving for the night, Mona?” Blane asked, his voice flat. His back was to me. He sat at the piano, smoke from the cigarette in his hand curling as it drifted upward. Only one lamp was lit in the far corner, leaving much of the room in shadows.

I couldn’t speak. The loneliness of the scene broke my heart.

When I didn’t answer, Blane half turned, and spotted me. He froze for a moment, then deliberately stubbed out his cigarette and stood.

The sleeves of his shirt were unbuttoned, the cuffs turned back. His hair was mussed slightly, and he quickly ran his fingers through it to arrange it properly as he walked toward me.

“Kat,” he said when he was close, “I wasn’t expecting you.”

I forced myself to speak. “I’m sorry to intrude, to be here uninvited,” I began, the stilted formality between us making my voice shake.

“It’s all right,” he interrupted. “Come in. Sit down. Let me get you a drink.”

“No, that’s—”

But he was already moving to the sideboard, pouring two glasses of scotch. Returning, he handed me one and I laid down my keys to take it from him.

“Sit down,” he encouraged, but I remained standing.