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“I’ve never wanted to be trapped. To be caged. To be used. Not after what happened to Mom with Mason.”

“Is Dom using you?”

I sigh. “No more than I’m using him, I suppose. Or maybe ‘using’ is the wrong word. I’m just so happy you’re okay, Tash. I was worried.”

“You don’t need to worry. Rafe won’t let anything happen to me.”

“I wish I could see things as simply as you.”

“When this is over, when we’re back in our apartment and it all seems like a blur, like a dream, you won’t have to worry about the moral dilemma. You’ll just have to ask yourself – do you like this guy?”

I don’t respond straightaway. If I answer honestly–with a resoundingyes–it will feel too final. Once I’ve admitted to my best friend that my emotions toward my Warden aren’t as simple as maybe I wish they were, there’s no taking that back.

“I think it’s cray cray that we’re talking for the first time in days and it’s allmen, men, men,” I tell her.

I can almost hear her rolling her honeyed eyes. “Why do I feel a subject change coming?”

“Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

“I don’t think you wantallthe details.”

That goes both ways. She doesn’t need to know about the steaminess I’ve shared with Dom, about the temptation that strikes me every single moment of every single day, even during the week we were apart… or the emotion tugging at me like threads of destiny telling me this is the guy for me.

“Apart from the you-know-what,” Tash says, “I’ve been catching up on some reading. Watching movies. Missing you…”

“I’ve missed you too,” I reply.

“I thought Rafe was going to bring you to the safe house at first. When he didn’t, I doubted, just a little, if he were telling the truth. That’s why it’s so, so good to hear your voice.”

“Ditto,” I admit.

Now, I have to accept that Dom isn’t a liar, at least withthis.

“What about you?” she asks.

“Reading – making jewelry.”

“Did Dom bring your supplies?”

So much for not talking about our men…

“He did one better than that. He made me a studio.” I can’t hide the excitement in my voice. “It’s everything I ever dreamed a studio could be. It must’ve cost him almost a fortune. It’s the best?—”

I cut myself off, taking a breath. I sound like a giddy, deluded fool.

“But what happened to not talking about men?”

She laughs. “Fair point. So, what are you making?”

And we’ve failed… again. “Something for Dom.”

CHAPTER 17

DOM

Sweat slides down my forehead and sticks my clothes to my skin as we hike up the Devil’s Punchbowl in Angeles National Forest. Rafe wheezes beside me, and behind and ahead of us, the men he hired groan with the effort. It’s times like these I miss my SEAL buddies. Even with my tweaked knee and back, I have to slow down so that I don’t push too far ahead.

“It’s going to be a damn slaughter just for making ushike,” Rafe grumbles.