3

S abina sat on the couch in the private plane, her computer open and perched on her lap, Roger tucked safely at her side. Unusually, the project she was working on wasn’t holding her attention. So many thoughts filled her mind, like bubbles floating in from nowhere only to pop and disappear each time she tried to examine one.

She knew the source of her distraction. A simple postcard that someone had slid under the door of her apartment three days earlier. Only there wasn’t anything simple about it. The message on the back had been sparse, just two words. But those words had been enough to shake her out of the comfort zone she’d lived in for the past ten years. She’d hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours a day since reading the message.

And then there was her whirlwind decision to pick up her life and move west. The choice hadn’t really been hers. It was the only way to protect herself and those she loved. But the suddenness of just how quickly her life had changed still had her spinning.

In short, she was exhausted.

Chad shifted in his seat across the plane from her, drawing her attention. He sat at the table with his own computer open. Probably working on some spreadsheet or another. Other than a mumbled “excuse me” when he’d bumped into her as he retrieved his backpack, he hadn’t said a word since they’d taken off an hour ago.

With his focus on his device, she let her gaze drift over his profile. Dark hair curled over the top of his ears. Sharp cheekbones framed a pair of nearly black eyes that she knew well even if she couldn’t see them at the moment. His long, strong fingers hovered over his keyboard. Her mind might be all over the place, but there was one thing she knew for certain. Chad Warwick was a good-looking man.

He sat back and raised his arms, locking his hands on the top of his head. His biceps flexed under his T-shirt, and she relaxed back in her seat, enjoying the view. On the tarmac, when she’d hooked her arm with his, she’d brushed against those biceps. His skin was warm, and the current that shimmered through her entire body at the contact was achingly familiar. Outwardly, she treated him as a friend—to the extent he’d allow. But each time they touched, something deep inside her lit up and, as much as she hated to admit it, longed for him. Sometimes it didn’t even take his touch for those feelings to make themselves known. Sometimes, all he had to do was walk into the same room.

Her attention shifted to his profile when his brow furrowed and he frowned. Dropping his hands back to the keyboard, he started typing. It had come as no surprise to anyone when he’d been asked to head this new venture. Chad Warwick was far more than a pretty face. He’d earned every bit of respect that Stella, Hunter, and all the employees of the firm showed him.

As for her, well, she, too, held him in high regard. He was the consummate professional, embodying everything HICC stood for and was named after—honor, integrity, courage, and compassion. But more than that, over the past two years, the two of them had meshed so well that it wasn’t uncommon for one of them to anticipate the other’s needs or answer a question before being asked. They communicated seamlessly—even in the most hair-raising of situations—and he was one of her favorite operatives to work with. She understood why he’d taken the new role that would have him sitting behind a desk more often than not. But it was a shame he wouldn’t be in the field anymore.

No, professionally, she had zero complaints about Chad Warwick, and she was looking forward to seeing him take on this new challenge.

Personally, well, that was another matter.

Not that she had complaints, per se. Again, he was always courteous and professional. But that was the crux of her issue. He was always so professional with her. She was a likable person and got on well with all of her colleagues. After-work drinks were a common occurrence, as were barbecues, hikes, and an occasional night out dancing. And while Chad often joined in, very rarely, if ever, did he engage with her during those outings. In fact, she had the sense that in some way, she disappointed him.

Of course, that could be her own guilt coloring her perspective. In his first few weeks at HICC, he’d tried to get to know her. He’d stopped by her desk to chat more than a few times and had even bought her a beer after work twice. He’d asked all the usual questions about her life, and she’d smiled and given him the same glib answers she always gave. But the answers that seemed to satisfy everyone else hadn’t been enough for him. After those first few weeks, he’d simply stopped talking to her about anything other than work. She’d felt the loss more than she should have, but there was little she could do about it. Even if, at times like these when it was just the two of them, she wished she could change it. She wished she could give him more.

“Tell me about Mystery Lake,” she said. In an effort to keep her thoughts from turning too maudlin, she defaulted to her usual chatter. Also, maybe to annoy him a little bit.

He glanced up and cocked an eyebrow. “You probably know more about it than I do at this point.”

He had a point. She didn’t tend to do things by half measures. When it became clear that she and Jun needed to switch places, she’d done her research. She knew more facts and figures about the gold rush town of fifty thousand people than probably most of the residents. But that didn’t mean she knew the town.

“Where did the name come from?” she asked. “In everything I researched, there didn’t seem to be any known origin. There is a lake, of course, but it’s huge and hardly a secret.” The lake, and numerous hiking trails that wound through the Sierra foothills, drew summer visitors to the area. A well-known ski resort, one owned and operated by Chad’s cousin Bradley Warwick, brought the snow bunnies in the winter. The town also happened to be the location of the William Warwick Presidential Library. And no, the name wasn’t a coincidence. Chad’s grandfather had been a two-term, much beloved, president.

Chad shrugged at her question and returned his attention to his computer as he answered. “I don’t know why it has the name it does.”

That was a particularly unsatisfying answer. “There must be some reason.”

“I’m sure there is. Or was at the time it was named.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, although his attention remained focused on his device. She knew a nonanswer when she heard one. She was the queen of dissembling. “You may not know why the name was chosen, but you know something.”

“Want to tell me the real reason you and Jun changed the plan?” he countered. He asked the question so casually that it took her a moment to digest it and then another moment to change tactics.

“What’s it like living there? I know the facts, but reading about a place doesn’t give you a feel for it.”

He darted a look in her direction, one that was long enough to let her know that he hadn’t missed her change of subject. “I haven’t spent any significant time there in over twenty years. We’ll practically be discovering it together.”

The man could be infuriating. “But you have family there, right? How many cousins?”

“A lot. How many do you have?”

She fought the urge to throw her computer at him. She wasn’t normally a violent person, but ever since he’d stopped discussing anything personal with her, this was how it had been with him. He’d give an inch if she did. He’d give her a little piece of himself if she did the same. But because she didn’t have that luxury, their conversations didn’t tend to go anywhere.

“Seven cousins, two brothers, two uncles, two aunts, and your grandfather,” she said, reciting the number of family members he had in his hometown. When your grandfather was a former president, that kind of information wasn’t hard to find.

He didn’t deign to respond.

“Holding a casual conversation won’t kill you, you know,” she said.

At that, Chad looked up, and his dark eyes bored into hers. “You’re right, it won’t. But when someone wants more than just casual chitchat, it starts to feel tedious.”

She drew back at that but held his gaze. A little fluttering of unease swooped through her stomach. The man sitting across from her did not look like a man who was willing to compromise. In fact, he looked like a man who knew exactly who and what he wanted and wouldn’t settle for anything less. A man who would rather take nothing than bits and pieces of something.

But bits and pieces were all she’d ever be able to give. The things she’d seen and the decisions she’d made years ago had set her on a path that wasn’t entirely her own. And there was too much at risk if she veered off it.

A hollow feeling washed over her at the realization that she and Chad would never be more than professional colleagues. Until this moment, this one specific moment, she’d harbored dreams that one day they’d be able to laugh and hang out and do the things friends did. But in the space of a single breath, she let that vision go, releasing it forever. She didn’t have any other choice. No, that wasn’t quite right. She always had a choice. She’d made hers years ago, though, and she wasn’t willing to alter her course. Not even for Chad. No matter how much she wished otherwise.

Flashing a smile that she didn’t feel, she nodded to his computer. “What are you working on?”

Disappointment flickered across his features, but it was gone before she could contemplate it. Then he cocked his head and grinned. “Budget forecasts. Want to see?”

She gave a shudder that wasn’t altogether feigned. She might be a data geek, but she hated budgeting. “That one’s all you, big guy,” she said. “I’ll stick to researching Mystery Lake.”

If she couldn’t have him for a friend, or more, she was going to be damn grateful to have him as a colleague.