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 stolensome 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?
He should've pushed harder, three months ago, for a chance to talk to her in person. But he didn't want to argue with her parents. They were already livid with him. They didn't believe their son was guilty of anything. They blamed Knox to his face for Allie getting shot and for Leo taking off. Apparently, they thought Leo fled the country because he was afraid of Knox. Knox couldn't understand how they could deny the facts afterthat night, but he didn't have kids, and he didn't have kids who'd committed felonies, so he tried not to judge their reactions.
It was still hard to believe how fast his simple surveillance assignment spiraled into such a train wreck. Initially, WhiteRock was conducting surveillance because they had a client who suspected Leo was stealing from them.
Simple. It was supposed to be so simple.
After that night, WhiteRock was ordered to hand everything they had on Leo over to the FBI. Knox was relieved. He didn't want to be the one to bring in Leo. He didn't want to cause Allie any more pain.
Two feet away, she sat tapping her pen against a map of Isadora Island.
