He reached out, careful not to wake her, and brushed a strand of dark hair from her face.
I’m a safe man, he’d told her.
He intended to prove it.
Jayden woke to birdsong and the smell of autumn in Australia drifting through the cracked window.
For a long moment, she lay still, cataloging her status. Clear sinuses. Full breath. No swelling, no burning, no pharmaceutical fog clouding her thoughts. The allergic reaction had run its course, leaving her body wrung out but her mind sharper than it had been in days.
Morning light filtered through sheer curtains, painting the stone walls of the cottage in shades of gold and amber. Outside, the vineyard spread in orderly rows toward the horizon, leaves catching the early sun, dew still glistening on the grass between the vines.
A beautiful day.
And Dakota was asleep on the bed, fully clothed, on top of the covers. He’d kept his word. Hadn’t moved to the sofa in the next room. Stayed.
Jayden turned her head slowly, careful not to make noise. He’d shifted to his back in the night, arms folded across his chest, looking almost as if he’d just closed his eyes, still on alert. But his chest rose and fell in deep rhythm.
A vague, shadowed memory had her holding his hand in the darkness. And before that?—
The kiss.
It came back all at once. His mouth on hers, his hand cradling her jaw, the way she’d leaned into him like her body had decided something her brain hadn’t signed off on. The way he’d pulled away, scrubbed a hand down his face. I’m a safe man.
He wasn’t, though. Not to her. Because every minute she let him close was another minute she didn’t tell him the truth—who she really was, why she’d come, the name she wasn’t using. He thought he’d kissed a sick woman in a vineyard cottage. He had no idea who he’d actually pulled close.
She watched him breathe. The steady rise and fall of his chest. The slight furrow between his brows, even in sleep—like he was still worried. About her.
Something bloomed in her chest. Something terrifying and warm and completely inappropriate.
Because she wanted it. The what-ifs. The tomorrows. The version of this where she got to be the woman he thought she was and stay.
Stop it. Focus.
She had an assassin to find.
She slipped out of bed without waking him, gathered fresh clothes from her backpack, and headed for the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, showered and dressed in a pair of yoga pants and a linen shirt, she eased open the cottage door and stepped into the golden morning.
The main building was quiet at this hour, most of the tour group still sleeping off yesterday’s wine tastings. Jayden found the restaurant half empty, the breakfast buffet just being set up, the coffee station blessedly operational.
She poured herself a cup, doctored it, then breathed in the steam and let the caffeine work its way into her bloodstream. Better. Clearer. Ready to think.
Sydney was getting closer. The president’s speech at the Opera House was in four days. Somewhere on this tour, Spectre was hiding in plain sight—and Jayden was done waiting for the threat to reveal itself.
Time to hunt.
She wandered toward the resort’s small gift shop, coffee in hand. The display window caught morning light, illuminating racks of wine-themed merchandise and local artisan goods. But it was the dress on the mannequin that stopped her.
Sage-green linen. Simple cut, elegant lines. The kind of dress that would move beautifully in a breeze.
She shouldn’t. She was here to work, not shop. Her travel wardrobe was a mix—tropical pieces, a few wine-country additions, and the handful of operative basics she’d been carrying all along.
But the morning was beautiful. The sun was warm. And for just a moment, she wanted to feel like someone who belonged in a place like this. Someone on a romantic vacation, not a mission.
Ten minutes later, she emerged with the dress in a paper bag, feeling ridiculous and lighter than she had in days.
She’d just settled at a table by the window—fresh coffee, a plate of fruit and pastries from the buffet—when a shadow fell across her table.
“You two are just the cutest thing.”
