“What?” Oh, my God. I throw my gown around my shoulders.

Ben grabs me from behind, pulling me into his arms, and puts his gun in front of us.

“On the roof,” I hear through a radio, or something similar.

“What’s that?” I whisper into the darkness.

“My earpiece. Jed is on the roof.”

I can feel Ben’s heart beating hard against my back.

“Ninety seconds and the generator clicks in,” he says, not to me, but to the guys. They must all have earpieces in.

Ben turns us to the left, with his gun still held out in front, and then turns to the right.

It’s dark, so dark.

Fuck, who’s here?

I screw up my face in fear.

“It’s them. I’ve got a visual on camera. Shoot to kill. I repeat: shoot to kill,” I hear Ethan’s voice through the earpiece. “One on the southern side of the house, near the gym, and there’s one in the front garden. He’s coming up to your place, Buzz.”

Ben tightens his arms around me, his gun aimed at the door.

“I’ve got him in sight,” Jed whispers from his place on the roof.

The lights flicker and then the generator kicks in and the lights go on.

A gunshot sounds.

Silence.

Then five quick shots in succession.

“Get to Bridget!” Brock yells through the earpiece. “Get to Bridget!”

Tears roll down my face, I’ve never been so terrified. Ben squeezes me tightly in his arms. I hear a bang and then the door and another round of fire.

“Got him. Man down!” Jed yells. “Man down!”

Another two shots are fired.

“The other one’s running!” Ethan yells. “He’s going for the front fence.”

“Get him,” Ben growls. He grabs me and throws me into the wardrobe. “Brock and Jed, get over here to Bridget. I’m going after him!” Ben yells.

“No. No, no.” I try to grab Ben’s arm. “Don’t go; it’s not safe.”

He slams the door in my face. I hear the front door bang in the distance and then another shot is fired. I put my hands over my face and begin to rock.

I hear a motorbike start in the distance, and then another one roar after it, and then a loud crash before tires screech off, the noise fading into the distance.

Dead silence.

My breath echoes in the small space around me.

What the fuck just happened?

“Bridget?” Brock calls as he walks into our villa.

“Here,” I cry. “I’m in here.”

He opens the door and his face falls when he sees me cowering on the floor, in tears.

He scoops me up and holds me against his chest. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”

“Where’s Ben?” I cry.

“He’s gone after him.”

“It’s not safe. ” I cry. “Brock, go get him.”

Jed appears and he frowns when he sees me. He’s out of breath. “He’ll be fine,” he states calmly.

“I need a sheet,” Jed says casually.

My eyes widen. “What for?”

“To put over the body,” Brock answers flatly.

My eyes fill with tears. “He’s dead?” I whisper in horror.

“Yep.” Brock opens his gun and checks his ammunition. He snaps it shut as his cold eyes rise to meet mine.

Dear God, this is what they do.

Do I even know these men at all?

I drop my gaze to stare at the floor as my mind begins to close in. “Where’s Ben?” I whisper through tears.

“He’s with Matt. They went after him on the motorbikes.”

I shake my head as I break from Brock’s grip. “Are you sure there were just two of them?”

“Positive.”

“Go find them. I need you to go bring Ben home,” I whisper.

“He’ll be back soon.”

Ethan runs into the room, panting. “Are you okay?”

I nod as I drop to a seated position on the bed. “What do we do now?” I ask meekly as my eyes search theirs.

“Now… we wait.”

Brock and Matt pace back and forth, their guns in their hands, as I sit crouched in a fetal position on the lounge, Jed is waiting out the front for their return. The house is lit up, every light shining brightly.

The house is also silent.

Eerily silent.

It’s as if everybody is too scared to speak.

It’s been forty minutes. Where are they?

A man’s body is under a sheet out on the front lawn, and I have no fucking idea where my husband is.

“What if something has happened?” I dare to ask, not knowing if I want the answer.

Brock and Rick’s eyes meet.

“How will we know if something has happened to them?” I ask as I begin to feel my nerves escalate even higher.

“Nothing will happen. They’ve got it. It’s one man.”

“W-what if it wasn’t just one?” I stammer. “What if there were, like, ten of them around the corner, waiting?” My face falls. “What if it was a trap?”

I hear a motorbike in the distance getting closer and closer.

“It’s them!” Jed yells, and I jump off the lounge.

One motorbike. One motorbike.

I wince and my tears begin to fall, and Brock takes me into his arms.

Then the sound of a second motorbike fills the air as it comes through the gates, and I drop my head to Brock’s shoulder in relief.

Two motorbikes.

They both made it back.

The boys all run outside. I can hear them talking, but all I can do is drop my head into my hands and weep.

“I’m here, Didge. It’s okay, angel.”

I look up and see Ben standing in the doorway. I scrunch up my face before I run and jump into his arms, grateful when he holds me tight in return.

We stand in each other’s arms while I cry.

“It’s okay, it’s over. I got him,” he whispers, brushing the hair back from my forehead. “He’s dead.” He holds me close. “Shh, angel, he’s gone.”

The drone of the engine hums loudly in the plane.

Everyone is asleep after the night from hell. After Ben called it in to the authorities. The American Embassy turned up and have been at the house, interviewing us all night so that we could get clearance to leave the country. The UNI Special Forces team eventually stepped in and cleared us.

We had to get out of the country immediately, though, and Ben has to be at HQ in two days. He’s been on the phone to his superiors all night long.

Joshua is close to cracking the code, and Ben’s going to take it in with him when we get back.

Whatever it was, it must have been bad.

Thank God it’s over.

I drop my head to Ben’s shoulder and nuzzle into his big, safe, broad chest, trying desperately to remove last night from my memory.

How can I? It was horrific.

We walk up the corridor of Ben’s building in silence. It’s early morning, only 8:00 a.m. Unfortunately, we both know what to expect. Ben made me watch the footage of them breaking into his apartment a few days ago. He wanted me to know what the two men looked like if I came across them.

The apartment is completely trashed.

“Maybe we should stay in a hotel.” Ben sighs as he opens the door.

“No, let’s just get this done,” I tell him. “The sooner we get this shit cleaned up, the sooner we can relax.” The door swings open and we both peer inside.

Everything is all over the floor and every drawer has been emptied, no stone left unturned. The artwork has been ripped from the walls and the kitchen units now rest on the floor. Ben looks around as he clenches his jaw. I can feel the anger radiating out of him.

I blow out a deep breath because, God, this is overwhelming. “Where do we start?” I ask.

He scratches his head in frustration, but doesn’t answer. He walks up the hall to inspect the bedrooms, and I follow him. He stands on the bed and fiddles with the light switch before getting down and crunching something under his foot.

“What was that?” I frown.

“A camera,” he replies, distracted.

I look around for a moment and then put my hands on my hips with renewed determination. “I’ll tell you what I’m going to do.”

“What’s that?” He sighs as he inspects the devastation.

“I’m going to have a shower, and then I’m going to clean up this shit.” I point at him. “Then you’re taking me out to dinner. After that, we are going to come home and have some really rough sex.”

He smiles, and shakes his head in disbelief.

“What?” I smile.

“You.”

“What about me?”

“You’re a sex maniac. How the fuck can you think of sex when you’re standing in the middle of this chaos?”

My mouth falls open. “I am not a sex maniac.” I widen my eyes. “I just happen to be with a really hot guy who I can’t get enough of.” I pause. “And rough sex with him relaxes me. I’ve had a pretty stressful week, you know?”

He smiles as he pulls me close to him by my behind. “I have a better idea,” he whispers, his eyes dropping to my lips.

“What’s that?” I smile up at him as I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders.

“We take a shower and we have really rough sex now.”

I’m looking at him like a lovesick schoolgirl. “Yeah?” I listen.

“And then we clean up.”

I kiss his lips. “Uh-huh.”

“And then we go and buy you a proper engagement ring.”

What?

My eyes widen. “Really?’

He smiles as he kisses my lips. “Yes, really.”

I bounce on the spot.

“Do you think you can organise a wedding in six weeks?” he asks.

My face falls. “Six weeks?”

He nods. “Sooner, if possible.”

“What’s the rush?”

“I want everyone to know that the most beautiful woman in the world belongs to me.”

I grin. “Oh, and she so does,” I whisper dreamily against his lips.

He slaps my behind. “Come on, shower time.”

I stare at the huge rock on my finger, a broad, beaming smile plastered across my face.

Ben rolls his eyes as he looks at the menu. “It’s still there,” he mutters dryly.

We’re out at dinner. Well, actually, it’s a very late lunch and early dinner.

We cleaned up as much as we could at home, and then we went shopping. Ben bought me the most beautiful two-carat diamond solitaire ring I have ever seen.

It’s a gold band that holds one big fucking diamond.

I smile as I hold my hand out in front of me. “God, I’m loving myself sick with this ring. I’m Instagramming this shit to the max.”

He keeps perusing the menu.

“You didn’t ask me yet, though,” I murmur as I pick up my wine glass.

His eyes meet mine and he raises his eyebrow. “Ask you?”

“Yeah, you know… to marry you.”

His lips twist as he tries to hold his smile and he sits forward, putting his hands together under his chin. “You want me to ask you to marry me?”

I smile, and nod goofily.

“Are you going to say no?” He smirks.

I roll my eyes. “Well, no, because technically we’re already married.” I huff. “Just humour me, will you, Ben?” I mutter into my wine glass. “You’re annoying when you get all logical and shit.”

He smiles sexily. “So you’ve told me once or twice.”

I sip my wine as a smile starts to take over. I can’t even act like he annoys me.

“I’ll ask you when the time is right,” he replies.

Our eyes lock.

“And when will that be?”

“When I say it is.”

“You’re a control freak,” I whisper.

“I only control one thing,” he whispers in return as his eyes darken.

“What’s that?”

“Your body.”

I feel my insides flutter, because he does have complete control over my body.

He says how.

He says when.

He says how hard.

“Speaking of which, what’s your favourite part of my body?” I ask.

I like this game.

“Your heart,” he replies, without even having to think about it.

Of all the things he could have said…

I swoon and pick up his hand to kiss the back of it.

Our eyes are locked.

I love this man.

“No, really, tell me what your favourite part of my body is.” I already know the answer. Ben is obsessed with my boobs. He has his hand on them to sleep, his hand on them to wake up, his teeth on them to fuck, his head on them to relax. Even on the plane, this morning, he had the blanket over us so he could sleep with his hand up my shirt and under my bra.

He’s a complete boob man. Thank God I’m well-endowed in that area.

He thinks for a moment and frowns. “Your face.”

I frown. “My face?”

“When I see your face…” He pauses. “It gives me this… this feeling of happiness deep down inside of me.”

My eyes fill with tears and I smile softly. “That is the most romantic thing that I’ve ever heard.”

“And your face is the most beautiful thing that I’ve ever seen.”

Oh, how I love this man.

“We should go home and have really rough sex again,” I whisper.

He shakes his head softly. “No.”

“No?”

He lifts his chin defiantly. “Tonight, I’m in the mood to make love to my wife.”

My heart melts.

“That’s the first time you’ve ever said that to me.”

His eyes hold mine. “Well, tonight’s the first night I’m ever going to do it.” He licks his bottom lip as he contemplates his next words. “Tonight, I give myself to you completely.”

Goosebumps run up my arms as our eyes stay locked.

Dear Lord, Heaven help me. I don’t think my heart can take it.

It’s go-time.

* * *

I walk her backwards into the apartment with my hands on her behind, her soft giggles falling against my lips. It’s as if we have crossed another intimacy threshold. I feel so, so close to her.

We’ve done it. We’ve reached the ultimate level of closeness. I need to be nearer, though, so I pin her up against the fridge as we kiss. There’s no urgency to tear each other’s clothes off. We just want to enjoy each other for as long as we can.

The doorbell buzzes.

What?

“Fuck’s sake. Who is that?” I whisper.

She slams her head back against the fridge. Damn it.

I go to the security camera. It’s Greg, my boss. “Jesus. Perfect fucking timing,” I murmur. “Sorry.” I buzz him in.

“Who is it?” she asks as she straightens her dress.

“Greg from work.” I exhale heavily. “I’ll make it quick, half an hour max.”

“Damn it, Ben, I’m not in the mood to be nice to people,” she whispers, clearly annoyed. “The house is still a wreck.”

My eyes find hers and I smile. “Do you need to have a nap?”

She folds her arms angrily. “Yes, I do, actually.”

There’s a knock at the door and I answer it. “Hello, Buzz.” He smiles broadly.

Greg is in his late fifties or early sixties, and I’ve worked under him for the last six years. He’s a good man. “I just had to come over and congratulate you on your mission.”

“Thanks.” We shake hands and I turn to Bridget. “This is my wife, Bridget,” I introduce. “Come in, please… take a seat.”

“Thank you.” He smiles, and falls onto the lounge.

“Can I get you a coffee or anything?” I ask.

“Yes, that would be great. What the hell happened?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “I just couldn’t believe it,” he continues.

“The two agents went bad.” I shrug my shoulders. “I somehow got mixed up in it.”

“How?” He frowns.

“Jason Steele sent me this letter with some code on it.”

“What does it say?”

“I have no idea. I couldn’t break the code. I’m going to hand it in to HQ tomorrow at my meeting, so they can crack it. I have no fucking idea what they were planning.”

“Jesus,” he whispers as he thinks.

I’m not entertaining very well. “Can I get you a cold drink or something, Greg?”

“Yes, please,” he replies.

“Do you want a cup of tea, Didge?”

“Yes, please.” She smiles.

I walk into the kitchen and turn the kettle on, then get the cups from the cupboard. My phone alerts me to a text from my back pocket. I’m just out of their sight. The text is from Joshua.