“He’s got to be stopped.”
“Yes, but you don’t have to be the one to do it. We’ll find another way.”
Gaby closed the distance between them. Reaching up, she laid a hand against his cheek. She couldn’t miss the tension there, the restraint. The way he was holding everything in by force.
“You worry about me,” she said softly. “And I love you for it.”
“Gaby—”
“But this is my job,” she continued. “It was my job before you. It will be my job after—”
He cut in, his voice raspy with emotion. “There is no version of us where there’s an after.”
She didn’t change her mind, or her determination, but she softened—toward him. “I was going to say after we’re married.”
His mouth twitched. Barely.
“You’ve trained me not to be reckless.”
His brow arched, leaving his challenge unspoken.
“That was one time. My sister was at risk.”
“There can’t be a second.”
“There won’t be. It’s different now. I have you and an entire team of badasses at my back.”
“I’m serious, Gaby.”
“So am I.”
He straightened. She felt more than saw when he locked it down and became her handler.
“You go in, but you’re not alone. Same structure as Costa Rica.”
Her brows rose. “Meaning, you’re inside too?”
“Correct.”
She paused, considering their game plan. “So, you’re still the boss of me while we’re undercover?”
His hands found her waist then her hips. “Do you have a problem with that arrangement?”
Her gaze shot briefly to the door. Firmly closed but not locked. Did she dare?
Hell, yes.
Her hands slid up his chest, over his shoulders, until they looped around his neck. “The only problem I have is that there’s never a bed around when we need one.”
“Gaby…”
“I guess it’s too much to ask that The Underground has a private grotto.”
“I’m not joking. It’s my way, or we’ve got a problem.”
She smiled faintly, letting go of further challenges. She trusted him and the team, and truthfully, she’d never minded Rhys taking control.
Voice lower now, Gaby conceded. “We don’t have a problem. You’re my handler… sir.”
