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“Oh,” I say lightly, “not so boring. Your mum has got a temper not at all unlike yours, and your father is a tough old bastard, I’ll give him that.”

Abby gives a gurgle of laughter. “You met mymother?Oh my goodness. We’ve got alotto catch up on.”

I lift my glass in her direction. “You first, Skip.”

Her smile fades, and she twists the glass stem uneasily between her hands. “From the moment I left that Madrid apartment,” she says finally, “all I wanted to do was come back. At first, I was determined to give it a try, back in Australia,even though you were all I could think about. Then, as time went on, I told myself that staying away was the best thing to do, for us both. As soon as I heard that Juan Cardeñas was dead, I knew it was only a matter of time before trouble came for me. I was terrified that when it did, you would be caught up in the fallout. And not just you. Roman, Darya, the children...” She shakes her head slowly. “I couldn’t be the reason all of that was endangered. Maybe Rodrigo could have been managed, but I knew that if he found me, then so would this other man.

“And I know this man, Dimitry. I know what he’d do if he ever got close to an organization like Roman’s. He’d find a way to use it. To turn it to his own benefit. And he wouldn’t care who he killed to make that happen.” She stares at me, her expression gaunt. “That hasn’t changed. In fact, it’s more likely than ever.”

I cover her hand with my own. “I heard you on that the first time, Skip,” I say gently. “But that isn’t what you started to say.”

“Ha.” Abby gives a humorless laugh. “You always could do that. Read me like a children’s book, no matter how hard I try to hide.” She draws a deep breath. “What I was going to say is that the day the Banderos came for me was the last day of the three months I’d asked you for. I’d been watching the fucking clock tick down the hours, agonizing over what to say. I knew I should lie, tell you I was happy, had decided to stay in Australia. But no matter how many times I picked up the phone to type out the message, I couldn’t make myself do it. I literally couldn’t write the words, any more than I could think of what to tell Darya. And then, suddenly, the car was upside down, and the entire world seemed to just... stop.”

This time when she looks at me, her eyes are glittering with a hard, fierce light. “I was in the middle of the air,” she says slowly, “fucking sure I was going to die, and I suddenlyknew, without even the faintest shadow of doubt, that all I wanted was to be with you again. If I could have typed a message right there and then, I would have told you to come and get me, and to hell with the consequences. Not because I wanted you to come and save me. Not because I was afraid, or wanted your protection, or anything of the kind. But because in the moment when I was certain my life was over, all I knew was that I wanted to spend it with you. And that I’d left it too fucking late to tell you.”

Her head drops. I’m too stunned to move, let alone speak.

“I’ve regretted that decision every day since.” Abby’s voice is barely a whisper. “Every single day I woke up in that god-awful place, all I could think of was how much I love you and how much I desperately wished I hadn’t wasted all that time not telling you. I promised myself that if I ever got out of there, I’d tell you how I felt, even if it placed you in danger.

“You said you wanted me to know that whatever choices we make from this moment on belong to you and me, and nobody else. I want to make sure that you know I choose you, Dimitry. And I’m done running from that decision, no matter how much I might want to keep you safe.

“I don’t have the right to make decisions for you. So now I’m handing you back your right to choose.”

She takes a deep breath. “I love you, Dimitry,” she says quietly. “I love you with my entire heart, and I always will. That means I want you as far away from my mess as possible. But that isn’t my choice to make—it’s yours.”

My hand still rests on hers. For a long moment after she finishes speaking, the only sound is the whirr of night insects and the gentle movement of water against the mangroves.

I turn Abby’s hand over. The moon shines on the pale skin of her wrist. I raise it and press my lips there, feeling the rapid, nervous race of her heart beneath the surface.

“Then I guess we’re in this together, Skip.”

Abby gives a choked laugh, her fingers twining through mine. “You might live to regret that.” She glances sideways at me, turning her hand over in mine restlessly. “If we live at all.”

“I’ll take my chances.” I lean across the table and kiss her, slowly and sweetly, our hands still joined between us.

It isn’t the raw, urgent need that woke us both this afternoon, though I know that need will burst into flame soon enough.

But even as I stand and pull her against me, I know this kiss is a lot more than the silent passion that has always held us together.

It’s a choice.

I just hope it’s one we live long enough to enjoy.

22

Abby

“So the way it was left,” Dimitry says, leaning against the veranda railing the following morning, “Rodrigo believes you will make contact at some point soon. Deliver his money and the identity of the man who killed his father. And in return, he will kill the man and give up chasing you. Am I right so far?”

“Not exactly.” I shift uneasily. “Rodrigo never promised to stop chasing me. It was more of a... reprieve.”

“Got it.” He frowns into his coffee. I watch him, my eyes drinking in the tiny details I’ve clung to over the months apart. The way he rests one elbow on the railing, leaning into it as casually as if it were the counter in the Malaga café. One leg loosely crossed over the other, long fingers holding the coffee cup over the mouth like a workman on a construction site. His shoulders are loose and back, yet despite every aspect of his body seeming relaxed, the vigilance that never leaves is there too, in the way his eyes travel constantly over our surroundings, noting every minor disturbance in sound or sight.

“Skip,” he says, throwing me the ghost of a wink as if to prove my point, “you keep looking at me like that, and we’ll never leave this room, let alone this fucking country.”

I feel a treacherous rush between my legs and cross them primly. Dimitry’s eyes darken with interest.

“Stop it.” I tilt my coffee toward him, and he grins. “To be honest,” I say quietly, “I was just thinking how... cathartic it is, I guess. To be able to finally talk about all of this. Especially to you.” I give him a wry smile. “And I have to say, you’re taking it all remarkably well, for someone who has most of Thailand’s most dangerous criminal elements currently chasing him.”