That’s when Javier remembered they’d seen him buck naked and shaved bare. He felt heat rush into his face and hoped to fuck he wasn’t blushing. “Thank you, ma’am.”

He joined the family upstairs for lunch, watching as Laura prepared a plate of food for Klara—leftover roasted chicken, some kind of pea salad, and more banana.

Birgitta sat beside him and leaned close, laying her hand atop his. “I know what you sacrificed to free Klara. If there’s ever anything I can do, please let me know.”

He looked over at Klara, who was smiling up at her mother. “Seeing them together makes it all worth it.”

Hell, yeah, it had been worth it. And yet . . .

If you’re not a special operator, Corbray, what are you?

It was time for him to figure that out.

* * *

LAURA’S MOTHER AND grandmother went home before supper, not wishing to impose on Erik and Heidi, whose lives and routines had been turned upside down by Javier’s unexpected arrival. Laura spent every moment of the day caring for Klara—playing with her, reading to her, changing her diaper. She gave her a bath after supper, entranced to see her daughter laughing and splashing in the water. And then it was bedtime.

Laura settled herself in a rocking chair, gave Klara her bottle, and began to rock her to sleep. She looked down at the sweet girl in her arms, her heart so filled with love that it seemed to swell. Some part of her had been afraid this moment would never come, that she would never touch or set eyes on her daughter. But here Klara was, a little miracle, her smile enough to light Laura’s world, her laughter pure joy.

From the hallway beyond, Laura heard Erik and Javier speaking.

“Heidi asked me to bring on more security, but I told her she had no reason to worry. They have no idea Klara is here. Only when Laura appears in public with Klara will they know for certain where she is.”

“I’m hoping they know better than to come after her. I tried to explain to them how dangerous it would be for them to try.”

“Danger means little to a terrorist who finds glory in death.”

Laura’s heart raced to hear them talk like this. She’d always thought that freeing Klara would be the end of the nightmare, not a new beginning. Al-Nassar’s threats from the courtroom came back to her.

I am in chains, but I shall be free in Paradise, while you will always live in fear. You will never be safe, nor will anyone you love.

She looked down at her daughter, held her tighter, the feel of her precious in her arms. Klara was almost asleep now, dark eyelashes resting on her cheeks, her little body limp, an expression of complete peace on her face. So small and helpless, she didn’t know how cruel the world could be, didn’t know she was the daughter of a man who had killed hundreds, didn’t know that the world would be titillated by her very existence. She was just a tiny child.

And it was Laura’s job to give her the best, safest life she could.

Laura set her carefully in the crib, taking the bottle from her hands and tucking a warm blanket beneath her chin.

“Sleep well, Klara. Dream of angels.”

She had a few precious minutes alone with Javier, several of which were spent kissing on the sofa. “What are they going to do with you?”

“I’m under unofficial house arrest until we leave.”

Relieved for him, she rested her head against his chest, still stunned to think he’d left the Teams for her, gone all the way to Pakistan, and come away with Klara. “When we get home, I want the whole story.”

“What makes you think I haven’t told you the whole story?”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Call it reporter’s intuition.”

Soon it was time to go. Erik summoned a car for her, and Laura found herself under her mother’s roof in the bed where she’d slept so well and so deeply as a teenager. She’d had such big dreams in those days, her future overflowing with possibility.

But tonight she didn’t sleep, and she didn’t dream, Al-Nassar’s threat echoing in her mind.

* * *

JAVIER KNEW SOMETHING was wrong the moment he saw Laura’s face the next morning. She looked like she hadn’t slept, her eyes red from crying. She spent a few minutes with Klara and then asked to speak with Erik and Javier somewhere private. Erik led them to his office and shut the door.

Laura looked at neither of them but sat up straight, her face expressionless apart from the despair he saw in her eyes. “I have done a great deal of thinking and soul-searching, and I have decided to . . .” Her voice quavered. “I have decided to give Klara up for adoption to a Swedish family.”

Javier couldn’t believe what he’d heard. He found himself on his feet. “What the hell? You can’t be serious.”

“I think she is.” Erik motioned for Javier to sit down. “Laura, why don’t you tell us what has led you to this?”

“There are two reasons.” She cleared her throat. “The first and most important is safety. There is no way to know that Al-Nassar’s family or his followers won’t strike out at me or try to take Klara from me again. You heard Petras. ‘Being on a terrorist kill list is a lifetime commitment.’ The threat hasn’t gone away. What’s to stop them from coming after her and taking her the way you did, Javier?”

“I’ll stop them.”

She gave him a soft smile. “I know you would do everything possible, even give your life for her if it came to it, but I don’t want you in harm’s way either. If Klara were adopted in secrecy here in Sweden, they’d never know what became of her.”

“We can hire security, get a team of guys—”

“Javier, please listen.” Laura closed her eyes for a moment, as if fighting to control her emotions. “There’s also the fact that her father is a convicted terrorist. If Klara grows up with me, she will learn the truth sooner rather than later. Someone will tell her, or she’ll read an article about me on the Internet. She will have to spend most of her life knowing that her father was a murderer and that she was born as the result of rape while her mother was in captivity. I want to spare her that.”

Javier felt like he’d been kicked in the chest, his rage so dark and thick that he could scarcely put it into words. “After all I did to get her for you, you’re just going to give her away?”

Laura met his gaze, tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Javier. But what you did—it wasn’t for nothing. Don’t you see? You freed her. You got her away from a group of killers who would have given her a terrible life. I can’t change the choice you made, but your choice saved her. Now, it’s up to me to do what’s best for her.”

“I love her. I love that little girl. I held her in my arms all the way here.”

And Javier realized that this was at the heart of his rage.

He loved little Klara. The thought of losing her . . .

“I love her, too, and that’s why I have to give her up. I won’t put her at risk or compromise her happiness for the sake of my own.” Laura looked pleadingly at Javier as if begging him to understand. “I want her to grow up knowing only that she is safe and cherished. I don’t want the ugliness of my captivity with her biological father to be the first page in the story of her life. I don’t want her to grow up looking over her shoulder and knowing she’s the daughter of a mass murderer.”

Laura’s words began to pierce his anger and grief. He reached over and took her hand. “You know I’d do anything and everything to keep your little girl safe.”

She nodded. “You’ve already done more than any other man could.”

Erik’s face was grave. “Are you absolutely certain, Laura?”

She nodded. “Yes, I am. I would like to find a family that would be willing to send me photographs and let my mother and grandmother visit her from time to time—if it is safe.”

“Do Birgitta and Inga know about your decision?”

“I told them this morning. They are very upset, of course, but they understand.”

“If you are certain, then might I suggest an adoptive family, one that meets the criteria you listed?” Erik asked. “Heidi and I would love to adopt your little girl.”

* * *

IT WAS SETTLED very quietly and very efficiently.

Over the course of the next week, Klara was given Swedish citizenship. Adoption papers were drawn up and signed. Laura taught Heidi some basic Arabic words to help her communicate with Klara until Klara learned Swedish. Erik and Heidi held a private christening ceremony at the nearby Lutheran church where Laura stood as godmother to her own child, Javier and her mother and grandmother standing beside her.

“What is the child’s name?” the priest asked.

Erik and Heidi gave Laura the honor of making that announcement.

Laura felt a moment of triumph speaking her daughter’s true name. “Her name is Klara Marie.”

Laura spent her last morning in Stockholm feeding Klara breakfast, playing with her, reading to her, doing her best to memorize the sound of her little voice, the sweet scent of her skin, the feel of her in her arms. When it was time for Klara’s nap, Laura settled her in her crib, stroking her downy hair until she fell asleep.

“I am so sorry, Klara. I’m sorry you came into the world in such a rough way. I’m sorry these past several days have been so scary for you. And I’m so sorry I have to leave you now. But it’s best for you this way. Heidi and Erik will love you. Stella and Anette will be your big sisters. You will have a family to love and cherish you. I will see you again one day. I love you with everything I am, Klara, and I always will, no matter how far apart we are. Sleep, my girl. Dream of angels.”