It was easier for him to maintain distance if he didn't care, to protect her without the complication of emotions, to walk away when it was over.
Except he did care. She’d tasted it in his kiss, seen it in his eyes before the walls slammed back down. The caring was what scared him.
It scared her too. She didn’t want to repeat the mistakes of her mother, who gave up her career for a man. But she also didn’t want to make the opposite mistake: giving up a good man for a job. There had to be a middle ground. Kate and Lena had both found ways, why couldn't she?
She couldn't leave it like this.
“Zach…”
Emma’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, then froze as she read the screen.
The sunset dimmed around her. The message wasn’t from anyone on her staff roster or the resort team. It was from Kate.
“DANGER!”
Chapter 25
Combat Readiness
The simultaneous buzzof their phones cut through the gentle evening air like a warning bell.
Zach pulled his from his pocket in one smooth motion, scanning their surroundings before glancing down at the screen.
Kate Danvers
DANGER!
Now—get Emma safe!
Every muscle in his body locked into combat readiness. His heart rate didn’t spike—years of training prevented that—but adrenaline flooded his system in a controlled surge, sharpening his senses.
Kate’s empathic abilities had been growing stronger. She sensed things before they happened, saw threats forming in the emotional landscape around her. She didn’t send messages like this unless something was imminent.
Something was in motion. Someone.
The beach was too quiet.
Zach stopped walking, his hand falling to the survival knife at his hip. His vision sharpened, cataloging everything in a three hundred sixty-degree sweep.
Sight lines—clear for fifty yards north and south along the beach, tree line ten yards to the east, ocean on the west.
Cover points—three palm clusters, two coral rock formations.
Escape routes—toward the cottage, toward the resort, into the trees (unfavorable), into the surf (last choice).
Threat assessment: exposed position, minimal cover, Emma unprotected.
“What?” Emma’s voice carried confusion, not fear. She didn't sense it.
He didn’t answer. Couldn’t afford the distraction. His entire being focused outward, expanding his awareness the way his sensei taught him.
Listen to what isn’t there, Steele. The silence will tell you everything.
The wind shifted. Palm fronds rustled behind them in the tree line—wrong direction for the prevailing breeze, wrong rhythm for natural movement.
Someone was there. He angled his head… and heard it.
The faint, distinctive snap of a crossbow trigger releasing. A sound he’d learned in six different countries, in a dozen different contexts. Always the same. Always deadly.
