The Colonel's Widow?. Mallory Kane

came from a helicopter. He was—” She turned her head to look at Rook. “You were hit in the chest. All that blood…” She had to force air past her constricted throat.

      “It was so awful. How could you not tell me, Deke?”

      “It was…a matter of national security—” Deke started.

      “He was following my orders. He didn’t know I was still alive until he contacted a prearranged number three days ago.”

      Irina’s head was spinning. Too much information. “But I saw the bullet hit you. It made a little puff.” She gestured with her fingers. “F-fibers from your shirt, I think. Then blood—your blood—spattered on my blouse. You fell into the water.” She pressed her palms to her temples. “Were you wearing a bulletproof vest? No, you couldn’t have been. We’d just…” Her voice trailed off as more memories flashed across her vision.

      They’d made love. She’d watched him dress afterward. All at once she realized that was the origin of her recurring dream.

       They’d made love and then he’d been shot.

      Killed.

      “I watched you die,” she whispered. Then suddenly the floor tilted and her vision turned dark. Strong arms enveloped her.

      Rook’s arms. But no. It couldn’t be. Rook was dead.

      She came awake as he laid her gently on the sofa. She didn’t open her eyes, afraid the room would tilt again. Afraid her world would turn right-side up again and Rook would be gone.

      The next thing she was aware of was Deke’s voice.

      “—can’t believe you’re here in the flesh. But I gotta say, I’d like to strangle you right now. You could have let me know you were alive.”

      “After all that planning, it was too risky to take a chance like that. What happened to your arm?”

      Their words confirmed what Rook had said. The two men, who’d been best friends and oath brothers since childhood, really hadn’t spoken in two years. She could tell from Deke’s voice that he’d feared he’d killed his best friend.

      At least Deke hadn’t betrayed her—not like her husband had.

      “This? It’s just a scratch, courtesy of a costume cowboy called Frank James, who insisted he wasn’t working for Novus.”

      “It’s wrapped up like a mummy. Looks like a little more than a scratch.”

      “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. More than I can say for your widow. Think she’s okay?”

      “I think so. But look at her. She’s so pale, so scared. Dear God, I never meant to hurt her.”

      “Well, you did.”

      “You think I don’t know that? If there had been any other way—”

      “You know what, man? Just stop. I had to watch her, knowing the whole time what I’d done—what I’d let you do. I’ve learned a lot in the past two years. And even more in the past few days. One thing I can tell you for sure, it may take me the rest of my natural life to make up to Mindy for everything I put her through in the past. But I’ll do it. And I won’t waste time whining that there was nothing else I could do.” Deke’s voice was low, but Irina heard the disgust and anger behind his words.

      Cloth squeaked against leather as Rook stood up. “You got anything else to say, Cunningham? Because if you do, maybe we should go outside. I’d rather my wife not be any more upset than she already is.”

      “Now you’re blaming me for upsetting her? You arrogant—”

      Their argument was fast escalating into a fight. Irina sat up, a lot more quickly than she should have. Stars flared at the edge of her vision. She pushed her hair out of her face.

      Both men turned toward her. She could see Deke’s sheepish expression and Rook’s worried gaze through the fading starbursts.

      “Hey, Irina.” Deke’s voice softened into gentleness. “Are you okay?”

      “Not even near,” she muttered.

      “Stay still. Rest. Maybe you can even sleep for a while,” Rook said.

      She laughed. “Sleep? I don’t know what sleep is. Not for two years. My brain is speeding ninety miles an hour. There are so many questions that I don’t know where to start.”

      His gaze faltered.

      “Okay. Answer this one. Why did Deke bring me here?”

      Deke answered her. “Because he doesn’t want you out of our sight for even one second.”

      She shook her head and smiled sadly. “No. That doesn’t explain it. Why now? I’ve been out of your sight for two years—” She stopped. “Or have I? Don’t tell me you have watched me all this time.” Her stomach churned. “I think I may be sick.”

      “I swear, this is the first time I’ve set foot in the U.S. I couldn’t chance being spotted.”

      She turned to Deke. “So how did you find him?”

      Deke’s gaze slid past her to Rook. “I’ll let you field that one. I’m going to go take a look around outside—”

      “No!”

      Deke and Rook jumped.

      She swallowed. Her vehemence surprised even herself. “No. You stay right here, Deke. You’re involved in this, too.”

      Deke looked down at the toe of his boot.

      Rook rubbed a hand across his face. Despite her hurt and anger, Irina’s heart squeezed at the soul-deep weariness etched there.

      “I set up a message service,” he said flatly. “The fees are paid automatically on a yearly basis by electronic withdrawal from a bank in the Caymans. I used the name Kenneth Raven.”

      She stared at him. “A bank—” How had she been married to him and not known him at all?

      “So who called you on this message service? I thought Deke did not know you were alive. You said nobody knew.”

      “That’s right. Nobody. Deke had the number, but he wasn’t to call it unless it was a life-or-death situation.”

      “You arranged your assassination. You planned for a contingency in case you needed—or wanted—to return to life. You left your sister, your wife, all your friends and family, to think you were dead.” Irina’s stomach was still churning. Her head was spinning. “We had a funeral. We grieved for you. And the whole time you were laughing at us.”

      “Trust me, I wasn’t laughing.”

      Was she seeing things, or were his eyes brighter than they’d been a few seconds ago? She’d never seen Rook Castle cry before. Still, even if those were tears, it didn’t matter. It was too late for tears, too late for apologies.

      It was too late.

      An awful thought occurred to her. “What about Jennie? Is she all right?”

      He nodded without looking at her. “I hired a bodyguard for Jennie, using the Cayman Islands account. She has no idea.”

      “So you have decided the best thing for everybody, haven’t you?”

      “I didn’t have a choice.”

      She lifted her chin. “Just so I know, how long had you been planning all this?”

      “Rina, it wasn’t like that—”

      “How…long?”

      Out of the corner of her eye she saw Deke squeeze his eyes closed.

      Rook looked away and shrugged. “Six months. Maybe eight.”

      A short, sharp laugh burst