Burned Hearts (Burned 3)

I said, “You know I support what you’re doing. And though I’m thrilled you’re here with me, remember that you have faith in Kyle and Amano looking after me. I don’t want to cause any problems with these indictment cases you’re helping to build.”

“I’m grateful for that.” He kissed my forehead. “But when you’re so scared that Kyle calls me … That’s when I know where I have to be—what my most important priorities are.”

“Then I have to keep from freaking out. Because you have serious work to do. And I want it wrapped up soon. So that you can come home to me.”

His fingers stroked my cheek as a few tears tumbled along them.

“Soon, baby,” he murmured against my hair. “I promise.”

* * *

I slept soundly in Dane’s protective embrace and woke feeling much more composed. Safer. Saner.

He made love to me once more; then we showered. We headed into the kitchen and I poured orange juice while Dane went straight for the coffeemaker and popped in the bold French roast pod he favored. The aroma wafted through the air and must have drawn Kyle, because he came in seconds later.

He wore a tank top and gym shorts. His hands clenched the ends of the towel wrapped around his neck, and perspiration beaded his hairline. I assumed he’d just finished another P90X workout. He’d had muscles to strain the hems and fabric of his short-sleeved shirts from the time I’d met him, but now, he gave Marky Mark in his immortalized Calvin Klein boxer ads a run for his money.

My husband scowled. Clearly, he didn’t like Kyle flaunting his biceps in front of me. I bit back a smile. Although Kyle proved swoon worthy to most women, everything about Dane riveted me. At six-three and with his broad shoulders and prominent features, he knocked the wind out of me every time he was near.

Lucky me, all Dane wore this morning was a pair of black drawstring pants. His hair—as dark and luxurious as polished obsidian—was a sexily tousled mess. His emerald eyes always glowed seductively when he looked at me. Even when he crooked a brow, as he did now, as though to ask, Does Kyle always walk around all buffed out when I’m not here?

I ignored the burning question in Dane’s gaze and kissed him on the cheek. “Behave,” I murmured. To Kyle, I asked, “Are you cooking or am I?”

“I’ll do it. You two”—he waved a hand at us—“spend time together. Or … whatever.”

“Thanks for calling him,” I said. “I needed a little extra assurance to keep me from imagining rattling tails all night long.”

Dane took a sip of coffee, then set the mug on the Italian marble counter. “Won’t be long before this is all over. There’ll be another indictment any day now—Keaton Wellington the Third. That only leaves one other society member out there. And trust me, he’s shaking in his Gucci loafers.”

I could see Dane gleaned a bit of satisfaction that his former investors were tormented by the full-court press put on them recently. Rightfully so on my husband’s part.

“So when do the trials begin?” Kyle asked as he yanked open the door on the Sub-Zero fridge and reached for the carton of eggs. He did the most amazing things with breakfast, and I hoped he had his thick, decadent, melt-in-your-mouth French toast on the menu this morning. I could practically smell the rich Mexican vanilla and he hadn’t even made his way to the spice rack yet.

“The FBI and IRS criminal investigations are still under way. Corruption and tax evasion are substantial charges on their own. The heartier chunk of the puzzle is tying them into the bombing of the Lux. That’ll nail their coffins shut.”

Dane’s strong jawline set and his eyes flashed with the need for revenge. It set me on-edge when he looked so formidable, so intimidating. But the razor-sharp vibe was warranted when it came to his luxury resort having been blown to bits. Not to mention the treacherous situation we were all in.

Kyle cracked eggs into a bowl as he asked, “Then what? More of our version of witness protection until all the convictions are made—if they’re made? Not sure if Ari got around to mentioning it, but she wants to go back to the creek house.”

I shot him a sardonic look for broaching the subject ahead of me. “Thanks so much.”

“I’m not opposed to that,” Dane said as he slid onto a high-backed upholstered stool at the island where Kyle worked. I joined Dane, draping my arm along the top of

the stool next to his and propping my hip against the seat. “That location is securely monitored. It’s also a bit smaller than this estate. Easier for surveillance.” His tone held a contemplative tinge, so I deduced he wasn’t wholly convinced moving was a good idea at the moment, but at least he considered the possibility. I appreciated that.

Being under Amano’s and Kyle’s watch made me infinitely happier than if I’d been secreted away somewhere by the FBI because I was Dane’s wife. It was difficult enough giving up some personal freedoms for the sake of protection.

Kyle carried the empty carton of eggshells to the trash can, tossed it, then popped into the pantry. I studied Dane.

“I feel safer at the creek house,” I told him. “Calmer. I can’t explain why. I just do. And I never would have left if I wasn’t having so much trouble with the morning sickness and dehydration my first couple of months with the baby and needed Macy’s medical retreat.”

Turned out to be a wise decision to seek professional, holistic help, and I was glad Kyle had suggested I consult Dr. Macy Stevens, his aunt. Her physical rehab facility also offered inpatient care for four people. I’d been one of the four, and the entire experience had been wholly beneficial, possibly even lifesaving, given that I’d lost weight rapidly at the beginning of my pregnancy, not gained. And dehydration was never something to fool around with. Nor was the extreme grief I’d suffered when I’d believed Dane had been killed in the Lux destruction.

Now here I was entering my third trimester. That likely lent to my desire to return home.

Dane said, “I know you like it there.” He brushed away a plump curl from my temple. “And you know that I’d grant you any wish. As long as I don’t think it puts you in jeopardy.”

“Yes.” I leaned toward him and kissed him softly. Against his lips, I said, “I also know that, sometimes, I have to coax you into granting my every wish.”