“Yes.” I stared into my cooling tea. “He wants us to be a family.”
Jake’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “And what do you want?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Twenty-four hours ago, I thought he was dead. Before that, I thought he was a liar who wanted to use me to get to Tomas’s fortune. Now...” I sighed, feeling the weight of too many contradicting truths. “I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
Jake was quiet for a moment, his fingers tracing the rim of his mug. “He’s Nora’s father.”
“Yes.”
“That matters,” he said.
I looked up at him, surprised by his words. “Are you saying I should go with him?”
“I’m saying you have to decide what’s best for Nora.” His voice was carefully neutral. “And for yourself.”
I reached across the table and took his hand. His skin was warm, calloused from years of ranch work. “What happened between us—”
“Doesn’t matter right now,” he interrupted gently. “We’ve got bigger problems to solve first.”
But it did matter. The way his hand had felt against my skin, the tenderness in his kiss, the safety I felt in his arms—it all mattered more than I wanted to admit.
“Jake—”
A sudden crash from outside cut me off. We both jumped to our feet, Jake’s hand automaticallyreaching for his weapon.
“Stay here,” he ordered, moving swiftly toward the front room.
I ignored him, following close behind. Caleb was already at the window, peering through a gap in the curtains.
“Vehicle,” he reported. “Coming up the drive. Lights off.”
Mikhail appeared from the bedroom, instantly alert. “How many?”
“Can’t tell yet.” Caleb moved to the door, checking that it was secure. “Could be one, could be more.”
My heart hammered in my chest. “Nora—”
“Still asleep,” Mikhail assured me. “I just checked on her.”
Jake positioned himself by the other window. “Two SUVs. At least four men that I can see.”
“Kozlov,” Mikhail spat. “Has to be.”
“How did they find us?” I demanded.
Caleb’s face darkened. “The truck. They must have been tracking it.”
“Everyone, arm yourself,” Jake ordered, handing me a handgun. “Ella, get Nora and take her to the back bedroom. No windows, one door. Easiest place to defend.”
I nodded and hurried to where my daughterslept, wrapped in a quilt on the small couch. She barely stirred as I lifted her, her body warm and heavy with sleep. I carried her to the back room, my mind racing with fear and determination.
As I settled her on the bed, her eyes fluttered open. “Mom? What’s happening?”
“Nothing, sweetheart,” I lied, smoothing her hair. “Just moving you somewhere more comfortable.”
She frowned, not convinced. “I heard noises.”
“It’s just the wind,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Go back to sleep.”
