Page 83 of Rafe’s Future

Narcissistic. Arrogant. A man who’d spent decades believing he was smarter than everyone else.

Kozlova lunged suddenly. Lena fired, but he managed to knock her weapon aside. The gun flew from her hand as they hit the unforgiving ground with a hard thud. She fought back, unable to reach the backup pistol still holstered at her hip.

Lena drove an elbow into his ribs. Her target grunted as his meaty hand reached up and closed around her neck.

The pressure was instant and painful.

She clawed at his wrist, doing her best not to let flashbacks of Timothy Miller’s attack during his interrogation take over. But Kozlova was admittedly stronger than Lena expected. For one terrifying second, it became impossible to breathe.

Her vision blurred as he leaned in closer.

“The CIA should have stayed out of my affairs.”

Lena drove her knee upward, causing his grip on her throat to loosen. She twisted and rolled, coming up on one knee.

Kozlova reached for her holstered weapon. She grabbed his wrist. Another struggle ensued, and he slammed her back against the nearest wall. She cried out when her head struck stone.

Stars exploded behind her eyes, but by the grace of God, she spotted the gun she’d lost. It was on the ground, a few inches away. Bringing her hands between them, Lena growled as she shoved them up toward his chin.

The heels of both hands hit their target, and Kozlova’s head snapped back. The unexpected blow knocked his body off balance.

Get the gun!

Lena dove toward the pistol on the ground. She was inches from reaching it when the man trying to kill her grabbed her ankle and jerked her back.

She kicked out with a yell, sending him stumbling back. Lena wasted no time going for the gun.

Her fingers curled around the familiar weapon. She rolled onto her back and aimed. Kozlova came at her a final time, despite the deadly barrel pointed straight at his head.

Lena fired once. Kozlova stopped. A look of surprise crossed his face. And then . . .

He collapsed.

She didn’t move. The sounds of her heaving breaths were silent beneath the incessant pounding of her frantic heart. Unable to believe it was finally over, Lena watched the dead man, half expecting him to get back up.

He didn’t. He couldn’t.

She lowered her weapon and let herself fall back onto the dirt.

It was over. Finally.

Alexei Kozlova was dead.

Twenty-four hours later . . .

Rafe stood on the suite’s private deck, his forearms resting against the railing. Lights from the occasional boat appeared, reflecting off the bay’s dark waters. He’d been standing there for several minutes, waiting for Lena to return.

She’d called shortly after she and the spec-ops team had completed their mission. Kozlova was dead, the news bringing him an overwhelming sense of relief.

The threat hanging over them was finally gone, and Lena was the one who had pulled the trigger. His brave woman had flown halfway across the world to end a madman’s reign of terror.

That’s my girl.

They were free now. They could return to the lives they’d been living before this nightmare had started. Go their separate ways and pretend the last few weeks hadn’t changed everything. Or they could do something neither of them had ever expected and build a new life together.

That was what Rafe wanted. More than he’d wanted anything in a very long time.

The quiet click of the suite door opening behind him traveled with the night’s cool breeze. He turned to see Lena standing just inside the suite’s main door.