Except in bed.
A faint smile tugged at her lips, while inwardly she was rejoicing.He had accepted her invitation to meet.The subtle shift in her world proved it.
And he was closing in fast.
Excitement rippled through her as she headed down the final flight of steps.She was heading for a small, shabby café that had been their local when they lived in Valetta.The owners, Frank and Lino, never asked questions.They understood boundaries.Or, perhaps they sensed danger surrounding their two regulars.
Rasping her thumb against a small pebble in her pocket, she thought back to the last time she’d visited the café with Elijah.Amethyst, he’d said as he handed her the stone.“I’ll have it polished for you one day.”
That was the most emotion he’d ever shown.On a personal note, it was huge.“I don’t need a ring,” she’d said, “you’re enough.”Which had been Elijah’s cue to shrug and get up to pay the bill, his expression unreadable, but closer to negative than positive.
She pushed the memory aside.What good would it do her?She had no idea what reception she’d get from him today.That damn pebble should have been tossed into the sea years ago.
So why am I closing my fingers around it as if it were a talisman?
CHAPTERTWO
Sable was alive.
He’d spent the past seven years wondering.No body, no proof, was his maxim.During those seven years, he’d grown colder and saw the world without illusion.
But now she was back.
Seeing her had cracked his armor right down the middle.She looked better than the ghost he’d carried around, stronger, sharper, and as appealing as ever.Everything else faded into static.
Almost everything.
A part of him would always remain alert to danger.Habit.Survival.His nature was cast in stone.
The café hadn’t changed.Same dented tin chairs, same sun-bleached awning shading scrubbed tables that had witnessed a dozen whispered ops.Tourists drifted past in the shimmering heat, unaware of what was being discussed, while locals lingered over cigarettes and gelato, unconcerned.
No one interacted, which suited two covert operatives.
Sable sat tucked away in a corner, a coffee in one hand, her cell in the other.A stranger might think her relaxed.He knew better.The tilt of her shoulders telegraphed tension.The way she angled the camera on her phone told him she was mapping the scene, searching for him.
Seven years of pent-up frustration flared.Did she think so little of him that it cost her nothing to vanish?
The delicate line of her jaw and the stubborn set of her mouth taunted him.The feel of her body beneath his hands?—
He should have moved on.Why couldn’t he?
Sable’s relentless war against traffickers was the one thing in her favor.Nothing deterred her.She would always throw herself between predator and prey.
That was the only reason he was here.But seeing her again was like a jagged blade rasping over old scars.Her messages had been a shock.Seeing her was worse.Yes, he was relieved that she wasn’t in her grave but he couldn’t forget she had chosen to be dead to him.
Frank, one of the café’s owners, recognized him and wisely pretended otherwise.A flicker of awareness in Sable’s eyes told him she’d noticed the shift in Frank’s expression and knew he was close by.
Correct.
And he wanted answers.
* * *
Poised for action, she lifted her chin, scanning her surroundings without seeming to take interest in anything.Her pulse thundered in her ears.She sensed Elijah as a pressure drop before a storm.He moved like smoke, silent, invisible, lethal.If he wanted to be seen, she’d see him.
Lino broke the tension by approaching with the bill.“Church is the only cool place today,” he said, glancing toward the Anglican cathedral across the street.
“Thanks for the advice.”She slid cash across the table, steadying her breathing.Lino’s comment wasn’t a throwaway, but a direction.
