Kawa Dwek set his phone on the hotel desk. He pivoted away from the window and drew in a deep breath.

They had not just lost millions of dollars.

That wasn’t what this meant.

Except Ben Grewing hadn’t made it to their meet and the men Kawa sent to the broker’s office reported watching a dozen FBI agents go in and out of the office.

This couldn’t be happening.

Kawa paced the room. It all rested on his shoulders. If they didn’t make this deal happen soon, the US congressional investigation would uncover that one of the many buyers of Aerospace, Inc. merchandise was their fledgling independence movement.

Three years ago Kawa had found hope in a regional government official who wanted a new, better life for the people of Syria. The only problem was, as long as there was no change in leadership and the Russians were involved, Syrian lives would be lost. Their hand was forced.

The civil war was well planned, swift and absolute under their elected leader, President Farage. In a matter of ten months they’d established a line between Syria and what they were calling Akkadia, after the first empire in the fertile crescent. It was about new life. Hope.

But it had all come at a cost. Namely, doing business with companies like Aerospace, Inc. Companies who had no qualms about doing business with anyone. In fact, they’d come courting the future government of Akkadia, offering them money to buy from them. For a cash strapped economy fighting for its life, they’d made the only call they could.

Right now what Akkadia needed more than anything was for the United Nations to recognize Akkadia as its own country. Until that happened, they were stuck. No one would trade with them. Few countries could offer help. There was no humanitarian assistance.

If the investigation into Aerospace, Inc. handing out bribes was connected to the government of Akkadia, it would be a death sentence. All the forward movement they’d made in proving themselves would be gone. Because they’d taken what help they could get.

And that was why Kawa needed Ben.

It hadn’t taken much digging to learn about the secret prisoner of war camp fifty miles across the border into Syria, and who was being held there with no hope of rescue. Kawa could buy the prisoners at a hefty price, but the money had to be free from Syrian taint. If they could acquire the prisoners, they’d have leverage. A US Senator could be convinced to lose some leads if his baby sister was returned to the states after almost three years in captivity.

Kawa would meet with the unsuspecting Senator in a few days. He needed to know they could move the money now. It had taken months for their broker to move their suspect Syrian pounds through various channels to convert it into US dollars. Now, they needed Ben to exchange that money into UK pound sterling to make this deal happen.

If Ben was blown, if the FBI was onto him or their potential deal with the Senator, it would mean Kawa’s life and all of those who’d chosen to follow them into a bright future under the Akkadian flag.

He wouldn’t let that happen even if he had to kill Ben and lose the money.

CARSON REALLY HAD TO pee.

She could hear men’s voices in the main area of the house which meant some of the housemates were awake. Ryan’s side of the bed was cold to the touch, so he’d been gone for a while and she hadn’t even noticed. It was just another indicator how much the stress of the last two weeks weighed on her.

How in the world had she managed to sleep?

She vaguely remembered lying awake and talking to Ryan for a while. He’d told her about him, his family, and she’d felt the vice around her heart tighten. With each new detail he’d confirmed what she’d assumed about him.

Ryan was a good guy, and she was doing a terrible thing to him. If it weren’t for Frankie, if her life wasn’t caught in the balance, Carson wouldn’t do this. She’d have made some other choice.

Frankie needed to catch a break, and this time Carson could shoulder the burden.

But first she really had to pee.

The need drove her from bed. She dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, then ducked out into the hall.

A man stood in the entry to the living room.

He glanced at her.

“She lives,” he said with a smile. She didn’t know which guy he was and right now that didn’t matter.

“Hey. Bathroom free?”

“Yup.” He gestured at the closed door.

She pushed it open and flipped on the light. Someone must have showered recently judging by the fogged glass and general humidity. She locked the door and did a quick morning routine. Pee, brush the hair, throw some water on her face and don’t forget the deodorant.

“Ryan should be back with breakfast soon,” the same guy called out.

Was that for her benefit? Or did the others need to know that?

She finished in the bathroom, but paused at the door.

Did she want to go out there?

Hogging the bathroom was rude, but she wasn’t keen on being around the others. The man who’d answered the door yesterday hadn’t been inclined to let her in to wait for Ryan, so she’d played the pregnancy card for the first time. Since then the others had more or less avoided her. None of them appeared to recall it hadn’t been her Ryan had taken to bed a few weeks ago.

All she had to do was hole up for a few days, then all of this would be over. Ryan didn’t even have to pay her much mind, just let her occupy half his bed and a corner of his room. That was it. She wasn’t expecting any kind of friendly welcome to her stay.

Carson unlocked the door and stepped out into the hall.

The guy was gone, and she couldn’t see anyone

Maybe now was a good time to check in?

She tiptoed back into Ryan’s room and grabbed her purse. The burner phone needed to charge, but she’d do that somewhere out of sight.

Two texts from Frankie.

Shit.

Made it back to the cabin. All is well.

I hate nature. It’s so noisy.

Carson snorted at those two messages. The second was typical Frankie. Carson had never minded the trips out into nature. Their parents were hippy in the best way possible. Frankie couldn’t stand to be out of the suburbs. She was a city girl if Carson had ever met one.

She dialed a number from memory and pressed the phone to her ear, praying for good news.

“Agent Walker.”

“Hi. It’s Carson.” She pressed her fingers to her chest, her heart hammering away.

“Something wrong?”

“No, I just wanted an update. How did yesterday go?”

“If you need to know something, we’ll tell you.”

“Yeah, but—I want to get back to normal. Did you get everything?”

“When we have something to tell you, we’ll call. Bye.”

The line went dead.

She pulled the phone away from her face and frowned at the display.

“Asshole,” she muttered.

They were fucking with her life and they couldn’t even tell her what was going on?

She couldn’t shake the bad feeling that’d been plaguing her since the day Frankie had called her in tears while in FBI custody.

Carson shot off a text to Frankie then powered the phone off. No one else had the number, and she doubted the FBI was going to offer to help her anytime soon.

Maybe she’d be here for more than two or three days?

She had little to no idea what they wanted her client for or why, but she didn’t like nagging feeling that she was being played.

“Food’s here.” Ryan’s voice echoed through the house.

His voice made her pause.

Last night in the darkness he’d shown her a vulnerable side of himself, and she’d shared more than she should have. This was supposed to be a cold, impersonal arrangement. He wasn’t supposed to open up to her. It made him human, and she didn’t know how to deal with that. Her experience with men was tainted. As a teenager she’d struggled with her sexuality and seeing relationships in a positive light. Even now, after hours of counseling and a few failed boyfriends, she didn’t know if she had it in her to be what Ryan needed. Even for a week.

She placed her phone in her purse and slid on her flip flops. There was no reason to avoid breakfast, especially when they knew she was here and awake. The name of the game for now was to act normal. And normal people ate breakfast.

Carson stepped out into the hall. The smell of something tasty had her stomach growling. All five housemates clustered around the bar while Ryan handed out sacks of food. He caught sight of her between two guys and nodded.

“Hey—I made a guess on what you might like.” He shook a bag. “Pick out what you want before these idiots eat it all.”

She circled the bar to stand in the kitchen.

“Thanks. You didn’t have to do this.” She took the offered bag.

“Well, someone chose to not do the house shopping yesterday—not that I’m naming names.” Ryan thumbed at a guy at the end of the bar with dark, curling hair. The same one who’d been in the hall earlier. Ryan whispered, “Alec,” at her from behind his hand.

“Shut your face.” Alec hurled a packet of sauce at Ryan, hitting his hair. “You know what was on the list? Nothing.”

“Dear God, the SEAL can’t think for himself. He needs someone telling him what to do.” Ryan rolled his eyes.

“You better watch yourself.” Alec’s tone turned scary. There wasn’t another word for the murderous tone.

Carson swallowed and focused on whatever sandwich thing she’d pulled out.

“Or what? Someone will have to tell you to kick my ass?” Ryan snorted, not the least bit concerned.

“Knock it off,” the large bear of a man said. He cast them both a sideways glare.

“Find something you like?” Ryan placed his hand on Carson’s back and leaned over her shoulder.

“Sausage biscuit. Sounds good.”

“I didn’t know if I should shoot for bland or what. If none of this works out, I can do something else.”

“No, this is good. Really.”

“Coffee?” Ryan asked

“Isn’t coffee bad for pregnant chicks?” Alec asked between bites.

“I...honestly have no idea. Questions for the doctor, I guess? I’ll get some water.” Shit. She was going to have to do homework.

“Bottles in the bottom of the fridge.” Ryan nodded at the stainless steel appliance. “Help yourself.”

Carson opened the fridge and stared.

“Wow, that’s a lot of beer.” She ticked off four different kinds.

“Work hard, play hard,” one of the other guys said.

She’d never been a big drinker. Bad things had always happened when there was too much alcohol, which was why she’d stayed for her friend’s sake.

Carson opened the drawer meant for vegetables and grabbed a bottle of water. The contents of the fridge weren’t any of her business. She was only here for a few days, then she’d be gone. If all went as planned.

That was something she couldn’t think about right now.

Frankie was away from home for a long weekend.

Mom and Dad had no idea what was going on.

All Carson had to do was keep her head down and wait for the FBI to tell her they were done.

She took her sandwich to the table while the guys remained standing, wolfing their meal down like someone might steal it. The two guys at the end whose names she couldn’t remember finished first. Not surprising since they hadn’t said a word.

“When are you two leaving?” Ryan asked.

“Now. We’re late,” the dark skinned man said.

“See you guys in a week,” the blond man said.

Silas and P-something. Carson couldn’t quite recall all their names. It was a blur. Everything was a blur.

“Pick your shit up before you leave,” Ryan said.

Carson chuckled. They sounded like siblings rather than friends. How many times had she griped and complained about Frankie’s stuff everywhere? Carson’s heart squeezed painfully at the thought of her sister. With any luck this would all be over soon.

RYAN BUSIED HIMSELF tidying up the breakfast mess, sweeping up all the crumbs. Carson wasn’t halfway through her one sandwich while the rest of them had at least two a piece. Silas and Paxton had eaten twice that, but they had a long day of travel and work ahead of them.

Alec emerged from the hall dressed in a suit.

“You look like the fucking Secret Service,” Ryan said.

Alec presented his middle finger. “Don’t wait up for me. I’m probably going to be late.”

Ryan shook his head.

Vito was around here somewhere.

Carson hadn’t mentioned plans, but Ryan felt like he should stick close to her.

He didn’t know what he should do.

It was Saturday, and he was off for the weekend. Perhaps he should go ahead and request a few days PTO while they sorted stuff out. He was willing to bet there were doctor visits in their future, the sooner the better. There was also the matter of the tiny bag she’d arrived at his place with.

She needed more of her stuff.

He picked up his coffee and crossed to the table, sitting across from Carson. She chewed slowly, watching him with an unreadable expression.

“Do you have anything you need to do today?” he asked.

“I don’t think so. I’d have to look at my planner to make sure.”

“Planner? Are you one of those schedule everything types?”

“It keeps me organized.”

He chuckled.

“Do you need me to get out of your hair?” she asked.

“No, you’re fine. I’ve got nothing going on this weekend.” His phone vibrated in his pocket. “Sorry.”

He pulled it out and glanced at the texts from some of his drinking buddies about getting together later. It was tempting to pour a shot to forget the onslaught of real life that was going to hit him soon, but that was how he’d gotten into this in the first place. He was going to have to make some serious life choices.

“Something come up?” Carson asked.

“Nope.” He turned the notifications off and set the phone face down on the table.

His housemates were going to talk. In a short amount of time everyone would know about Carson and the baby. He wanted to use this time—when they were the only ones who knew—to figure things out.

“You can tell me if you need me to leave,” Carson said.

“I said I wanted you to stay, and I mean it.” He reached out his hand to her and wiggled his fingers. “Do you believe me?”

“I want to.” She placed her hand in his.

He curled his fingers around hers and smiled. Holding hands was such a simple act. And yet, she did it without hesitation. On some level she trusted him. Maybe they could be more than partners. Maybe all of this was some kind of cosmic intervention from some higher being. This chance to change things had landed in his lap and it was up to him to make the right choices.

“I’m thinking you should stay here. Until we get everything sorted.” Ryan liked the idea more when he said it.

“Okay.” Again she didn’t hesitate.

“How about we go get more of your things? That way you might be more comfortable?”

“No.” Carson shook her head and pulled her hand out of his. “I just—I’m not ready for that. I don’t want to get into it with anyone right now. And if I go home, it’s going to upset Frankie. She’s caught in the middle of this, and I don’t want to do that to her.”

Ryan kept his mouth shut on all the words he wanted to say.

Frankie was going to see how her parents were treating Carson. The damage was done as far as he could tell. The best person to show a teenager how to handle their shit at this point was Carson. She was a hell of a lot more calm about it than he was.

“I know you’re trying to help.” She held up her hands, palms out. “I appreciate that. I just—I can’t do that right now. Maybe in a few days? Until then, I have enough clothes for the weekend. I can go pick up my dry cleaning tomorrow and be fine for work.”

“Okay. It was just an idea.” He reached over and pinched her breakfast wrapper with his fingers. “Done with this?”

“Yes, thank you. For breakfast, dinner. Everything.” She lifted her gaze, staring almost up at the light hanging over the dining table.

Was something up there?

He glanced at the fixture and winced at the cobweb hanging to the chain securing the light to the ceiling. The whole thing was dusty. If Carson was going to be around more often maybe he should pester the guys to go in on a cleaning service. Would he want a baby in this house the way it was?

Shit.

Did he want a baby in this house—period?

The guys were pretty religious about locking up their gear. Most of their firearms were kept at work, but every one of them had at least one service weapon for work here in case they had to up and run. He wasn’t sure bringing a child here was a good idea.

So what then?

Ryan lowered his gaze to Carson’s face and froze. Tears trickled down her cheek despite her attempt to wipe them away.

“Hey. Hey, what’s wrong?” Ryan got up and dragged the chair at the end of the table until he was sitting with her and her chair between his knees.

“Nothing.”

“Carson—”

“It’s nothing. Really. I’m just—weepy.” She sucked in a deep breath.

Ryan didn’t think that was it. Sure, she had every right to be overwhelmed and to tell him to butt out of her business. He reached over and covered her hand sitting on the table with his. Alec had given him a hard time about how easily Ryan accepted the news. Truth was, he was surprised something like this hadn’t happened before. Even with as careful as he was that didn’t change the facts that heavy drinking and sex both carried consequences.

“I won’t ask, just know—I’m here. Okay? I don’t have answers. I’m freaking out a lot on the inside, but I’m here.”

She nodded, but the cloud over her hadn’t gone away.

He wanted to fix this. To take that strain he’d caused away from her, but he didn’t know how. The right answer eluded him.

Whenever Nana got upset, she’d always make Gramps or Ryan hug her.

Was that the right move here?

Or would that only make it worse?

Was he a reminder of everything that had gone wrong?

Carson sucked in a breath, her body shuddering.

“Hey. It’s going to be okay.” Ryan leaned forward, circling her shoulders with his arm and pulled her toward him.

She leaned into the hug, her head tucked against his shoulder. The shudders shaking her eased after a few moments. He stroked her back and squeezed a little tighter. Her hand flattened against his chest and her breathing evened out.

Ryan could likely count the hours they’d spent together that he could recall on both hands. Usually after single digit hours he was ready to split and go his own way. This time that wasn’t an option, and he didn’t want to. Carson was a woman who’d picked herself up after the greatest violation he could imagine and become this person sitting here with him. He wanted to get to know her, to understand the strength that kept her going. Hell, maybe he’d learn a few things and come out of this better, too.

“What do you say we take a break, find a movie and veg out for a bit? It’s Saturday. We can’t do anything about doctors or sorting out the next step until Monday. Let’s just...chill. How’s that sound?”

“Okay,” Carson whispered. She pulled away from him and wiped her face. “Sorry about—”

“Don’t worry about it.” He took her hand in his again. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

The corners of her mouth turned up slightly. It wasn’t really a smile, but it was close enough. Maybe he’d coax a real one out of her by lunch.

That should be his goal. To make her happy. Maybe even laugh.

He tore his gaze away from her lips, but it was too late. The idea of what else he might do to that mouth was there.

What had it been like to kiss her?

If he had to guess she’d be a gasper, always sucking in little breaths of air, clinging tight.

What he wouldn’t give to remember.

KAWA COULD NOT AFFORD to wait. Things were once more moving at a sprint back home. If he did not secure some kind of foreign support, their bid to separate from Syria would fall through and everyone he loved would die.

This had to happen now even if he no longer had the money to secure the woman’s release. If he couldn’t buy her, he’d steal her.

He pulled out his phone and peered at the screen.

Any moment now Senator Joe Neilson’s lunch with a collection of influential people in the tech world would be interrupted. The ruse was fabricated to get Joe away from people and in a private area where no one else would see them. Kawa had a limited budget to spend now that the broker had absconded with their capital for this project. He’d allocated a small bribe to ensure this meeting happened.

He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer to any gods listening.

They needed a break. Something good had to come their way soon or else he would be working toward a mass evacuation plan to prevent regional genocide.

A light tap on the door sent an electric jolt down his spine.

It was time.

Kawa clasped his hands in front of him.

The door opened, and the maître d’ ushered an older man in with silvering hair and bright blue eyes.

“What is this?” Senator Joe Neilson glanced at the office door as it shut behind him.

“Hello, Senator Neilson,” Kawa said. He’d practiced these words. He was speaking on behalf of a country full of hope that they would get to see tomorrow.

“Who are you?” Senator Neilson kept his distance.

“I am a messenger bringing you good tidings.” Kawa picked up the small envelope from the desk and held it out to the senator.

“What is it?” Senator Neilson didn’t make a move to touch the offered envelope. Because he didn’t want to sully his hands?

“Nothing important.” Kawa reached in and slid the photograph out just enough so that part of a woman’s face could be seen.

Senator Neilson already pale face went even paler, and he snatched the envelope away from Kawa. He held the image up to his nose as though he could breathe in the scent of her.

“How did you get this? How long ago? Where?”

“A scouting drone took this a few days ago. She has already been moved.”

“Where?” Senator Neilson now gave Kawa his full attention. “Where is Jules?”

Kawa shrugged.

He had the senator’s attention. Now they bargained.

“What do you want?” Senator Neilson asked, his voice flat and cold.

“To be friends, Senator Neilson.”

“What do you want?” he asked again, slower.

“We both have family and friends who are suffering from the same people. If you were to help us, I could perhaps find your sister Jules again. Maybe even get her out of the country. But I’d only ever do something like that for a friend.”

“What kind of help?”

“You’re part of the investigation into Aerospace, Inc. It would be very bad for us, and your sister, if your new friends were connected to them.”

“You’re asking me to inhibit an investigation that I’m leading? Me?”

“No one wins if your new friends are connected.” Kawa shrugged.

If Akkadia was not recognized as a country apart from Syria soon, if they didn’t get some kind of assistance, Syria would hit them and kill everything living in that region. There would be casualties across borders and countless other lives lost.

It would take money to rescue Senator Neilson’s sister. Money the budding government didn’t have because it was here. Tied up in American banks through a man Kawa couldn’t find.

“I don’t know that I need new friends,” Senator Neilson said.

“But your sister might.”

Senator Neilson flinched then turned away. He yanked the door open and stalked into the hall, back toward the main room of the restaurant.

The die had been cast. Now all Kawa could do was hope that Senator Neilson’s love for his missing sister was stronger than his ethics.