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erased, how had this not destroyed him?

      Laurel glanced at the door. She could stay in this room for the evening. Every muscle in her body ached with exhaustion and fatigue. Each time she blinked, grit scraped her eyes, but for the first time in days, she felt safe. At least for the next twenty-four hours.

      She should sleep, but Garrett was out there. Alone.

      Her father had told her Derek Bradley was a traitor, but the more she recalled the conversations, the more she recognized the inconsistencies. Her father was an excellent liar, no doubt, but he’d been cagey about Bradley. He’d set up the doubts, so she would be able to trust him.

      “Derek took too many risks,” James McCallister had said last Thanksgiving. “He paid the price. So did his family. Traitors always get what’s coming to them. Eventually.”

      Her father had never called Derek Bradley a traitor.

      Something from around Laurel’s heart eased, and she realized that somewhere deep inside she’d still had doubts. They were gone now. Besides, her image of a man who would sell out his country for money didn’t mesh with the man who could sing Molly into calmness from hysteria.

      As she’d said to Garrett, at some point you had to let faith lead you. Careful not to jostle Molly, Laurel rose from the bed and padded across the room. The little girl didn’t stir. Laurel pressed her hand against the door and slowly turned the knob. She opened it and eased out of the bedroom.

      The living room was empty.

      She peeked into his workroom, but he wasn’t there. The encryption program still ran.

      Finally she looked out the front window. He stood on the porch, his back to her, staring out at the sunset. His entire body screamed tension. As if he wanted to be left alone.

      Laurel hesitated. She could return to the bedroom for the night, plant herself in front of the computer and wait, hoping the program would find the password, or she could go to Garrett. Except she knew what would happen the moment she touched him. They were both vulnerable. They both needed something only the other could provide.

      She opened the front door. The cold gust of wind made her shiver. The last rays of light disappeared behind a mountain and deep purplish-blue painted the sky, rimmed at the horizon with a splash of pink and red. “Garrett?”

      He didn’t turn around. She glanced down. He held his gun at the ready. She froze.

      “In the trees,” he said softly.

      She followed his gaze. Two piercing blue eyes peered at them, intent and calm.

      The cougar.

      “He’s back,” Laurel whispered.

      “Cats are curious, but cautious. He won’t come closer.”

      Garrett walked down the steps and picked up a large stone, tossing it toward the animal. The cat scampered off into the trees. “We need to keep Molly inside,” he said. “That cat’s learned people are a source of food. Probably eating after some of the border crossers left provisions behind.”

      He shoved his gun into the back of his jeans and escorted her inside the house. “How’s Molly?”

      “I’d guess out for the night, though she’ll probably be up before dawn.”

      “Which reminds me.” Garrett flicked the dead bolt in place, then shoved a chair underneath the doorknob before activating the sensors.

      “You think that will stop her?”

      “She’ll make a lot of noise trying to get that chair out. I’ll hear the little Houdini.”

      Laurel couldn’t help but smile. “She’s just like Ivy. When we were kids—”

      “I would imagine she got you into a lot of trouble.”

      “Dad would get so furious at us. I tried to take the fall a time or two, but Ivy wouldn’t let me. She was so much fun. I would have never had all those adventures if not for her.” Laurel sighed. “I’ll always miss her, won’t I?”

      Garrett double-checked the chair then faced her, his expression solemn. “I won’t tell you it gets better. The scab may get a little tougher.”

      She chanced a glance at him under her lashes. His stance was a bit awkward, as if he didn’t know what to say either. Maybe she’d been wrong. She should have just turned in with Molly.

      “We’d better check on the computer—” he started.

      “I guess I’ll turn in—” she said at the same time.

      She shifted from one foot to the other. “I just looked at the program’s status,” Laurel said. “Still running. No answers.”

      “I see. Then I guess it’s good-night.”

      Something solemn and painful had settled behind his eyes. And vulnerable. She didn’t want to leave him. She didn’t want to be alone tonight. She crossed to him, her heart rate escalating with each step. She knew exactly what she was inviting. So did he.

      She stopped inches away from him, still staring into his eyes. They darkened into a deep mahogany flaring with want, maybe with need.

      “What are you doing, Laurel?” His voice had grown deep, husky.

      Her touch tentative, she placed her hand on his chest. She needed him. “We’re safe for a while,” she said. “Aren’t we?”

      “That’s debatable,” he said softly.

      He covered the hand resting on his chest with his and lifted her palm to his lips. He nipped at the pad then threaded his fingers through hers. “You know this is a mistake,” he said, his voice barely audible. “You don’t know me. Not really.”

      A shiver skated down her spine at his words, but the naked longing in his eyes shoved aside her doubts.

      She knew him.

      “I’ve watched you. You gave up your safe existence to help me and Molly. You calmed her fears tonight. I know everything I need to know.”

      “Even though the world thinks I’m a traitor.”

      “I know the truth.” She shook her head, leaning closer, wanting more than anything for him to stop talking and kiss her.

      “What if you’re wrong, Laurel?” He cupped her cheek and held her gaze captive. Her heart fluttered in response. His thumb grazed her cheek. “What if I’m a man who would do anything to get what he wants? I’m good at keeping secrets. And I’m very good at telling lies.”

      She couldn’t stop staring at his lips. “I can tell when you’re lying, Garrett. Your eyes grow dark, and the right corner of your mouth tightens just a bit.”

      Would his mouth be hard or soft, passionate or gentle against hers when they kissed?

      “I don’t want you,” he said softly, his breath whispering against her cheek as he moved closer to her lips.

      “You’re bluffing.”

      “You’re too trusting.” He lowered his mouth to her ear. “But I don’t have the strength to pull away.”

      She smiled. “Now you’re telling the truth.”

      With a groan he fastened his lips to hers and wrapped his arms around her. She didn’t hesitate. She clung to him and let his mouth drive away the memories of the past week. For this wonderful moment all she could think about was his touch, his mouth exploring hers, the taste of him.

      He lifted his head. “Be very sure, because I won’t let you go all night long.”

      She didn’t answer, just pulled his mouth to hers once more. He groaned and swept her into his arms. With a long stride he carried her into the smaller bedroom, closing the door behind them. She didn’t notice the Spartan furniture; her only focus was on Garrett.

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