One day bled into the next and despite himself, Keanu had grown to enjoy her company. They talked more—actually spent time in the same room without harsh words—and following the day at the market and the short trip to the beach after, she had long since dropped her guard around him. She wasn’t anything like he’d thought.

She smiled more, always fiddling with her hair when she thought he wasn’t looking. And without his prompting, she opened up about her life before the firm and the inevitable end of her time there.

Now, as the sharp crack of thunder and brief flashes of lightning should have lulled him into a dreamless slumber, Keanu found himself wide awake with one hand tucked behind his head and the other resting on his stomach as he stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom, lost in his thoughts—in thoughts of Ada, the last person he needed to be thinking about.

She was a job. Nothing more.

Yet, he found himself curious about her. He wanted more. What was she like when she wasn’t on the run and needed protection? What had her apartment looked like before she’d left it all behind?

He was quickly running out of excuses not to indulge his curiosity.

Dragging his hand down his face, Keanu shoved the sheets off his lap, venturing out of his room and out onto the back deck, reclining in the hammock just out of reach of the night’s rain. The fresh air was good to clear his head, but it didn’t matter when he noticed Ada coming upstairs, looking just as troubled as he felt.

She was too lost in the rain to notice him at first. The polite thing would have been to let her know he was there, but instead, he held back, watching her.

It wasn’t often that he got to see the real her, the woman behind the mask of strength she kept up at all times. She was good at pretending, weeks around her had taught him that, but in the quiet moments like this, the version of her she didn’t want anyone to see peeked through.

Worry and fear weighed on her, and never for herself, he knew, even if it should have been. It was noble even, but he didn’t like the idea of her having given up on herself.

Even if it was the way she felt, he shouldn’t have cared. It wasn’t his job to make her feel better. Yet, he cared all the same.

Clearing his throat to grab her attention, he asked, “Can’t sleep?”

His voice was enough for her to straighten, but she didn’t jump this time. “The storm woke me,” she said quietly, searching for him in the darkness.

Leave it there, he thought. Keep the distance between them. Stay detached. “Just the storm?” He knew all too well what demons looked like, and the ones haunting her were almost tangible.

Whatever troubled her went beyond whatever she’d done at the firm.

Her smile was a little sad as she adjusted the blanket she held around her shoulders. “Am I that transparent?”

Only because he was paying attention now and not dismissing her.

“Wanna talk about it?” his mouth asked before his brain could catch up with him.

She blinked, probably just as surprised by the offer as he was for offering it. “I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

It was obvious she didn’t want to be alone, even as she was clearly giving him a way out if he wanted to take it, but letting her walk away was the last thing on his mind.

He extended a hand. “I’m up too, right? Let’s talk.”

* * *

The smart thing to do would have been to go back downstairs and pretend like this, whatever this moment was, hadn’t happened. Retreating to her little corner of the jungle house would probably get her head back on straight, but despite what she knew was right, Ada found herself nodding and walking over to him, accepting his offer.

As she slipped her hand into his, her heart skipped a beat, wondering if he felt that jolt of electricity as she did when their fingers intertwined. She eased down onto the hammock next to him, shuffling around until they managed to both lay together, but the limited space was still tight and there was nowhere to rest comfortably unless half of her body was on top of his.

Not that she minded when he wrapped a warm, muscular arm around her against him.

Was it wrong to find comfort from someone who worked for the man who’d offered her an impossible deal? Maybe.

But she didn’t pull away.

Ada expected him to speak, to ask her what had her up at three in the morning besides the rain, but instead, his arm shifted and before she realized what she was doing, he gently tugged the band from her hair, sifting his fingers through the strands.

With the backdrop of rolling thunder and brief arcs of lightning, this was the calmest she’d felt in months. No fear of what tomorrow would bring. No worry that men with guns were hunting her.

She was here, in this moment, enjoying the man she thought she hated.

“You’re not like the others,” she said after a moment, trying not to focus on how much she enjoyed his fingers in her hair.

“Mm? Met a lot of mercenaries, have you?”

“Only the four the Kingmaker sent after me.”

“They’re not mercenaries,” he replied, a smile in his voice.

“No?”

“Former assassins.”

“You’re not serious …”

“Afraid I am.”

“But you’re a mercenary?”

“Freelance, but yeah.”

“What do mercenaries even do?”

“Depends on the job and the specialty.”

She thought that over. “What do you do?”

“Recon sometimes, infantry usually, and for the better part of my time with the Kingmaker, I was his personal security.”

“Wow,” she tried to peer at him in the darkness. “Do you have the scars to prove it? I can only imagine the number of people who’ve been after the Kingmaker.”

“Trust me,” he said, “Whatever number you’re thinking of, triple it. He has no shortage of people wanting to kill him.”

“But, in turn, wouldn’t that mean they would be trying to kill you too?”

“Worried about me now?”

He might have meant it as a joke, but she was, a little.

Not because it was him, she told herself, but because she would have been worried about anyone that had a job like his.

“You know, it would be nice if you answered a question without asking a question of your own,” she said nudging his side, not surprised at all that there wasn’t the slightest bit of give.

“A lot have tried, but none were successful.”

“So you’re good at what you do?”

“The best.”

She believed that wholeheartedly.

Though they hadn’t gotten along much in the beginning, she was still sure he treated her far better than someone else would have in his place.

Even when she pointedly ignored him, he’d still gone out of his way to cook and bring her dinner.

No, Keanu wasn’t like other men.

“You left though, didn’t you? I thought I heard someone say you were retired.”

“I’m not as active as I used to be,” he said, trailing off as if he wanted to say more but stopped himself.

Again, she thought of the children’s books on the shelves with their binding worn from use.

“Why not?”

“I’m guessing for the same reason you took the job with the firm—you did what you had to do.”

Yes, she did, but that still didn’t explain why he wasn’t working as much with the Kingmaker as he had before.

A booming crack of thunder sounded, startling her enough to make her head pop up.

It was one thing seeing the vast jungle when the sun was up and blaring, but something entirely different when dark clouds obscured the sky, rain pelting the leaves, heavily scenting the air.

So easy to get lost in, she thought—dangerous and alluring.

Like …

God, was she now comparing everything to the man lying under her.

As she settled back against him, he asked, “You ready to tell me what’s bothering you?”

“My father,” she answered honestly. “I can’t help but wonder if I’ve only made it harder on him. Whoever put the price on my head wouldn’t hesitate in hurting my family to get to me.”

“If nothing else, the Kingmaker’s a man of his word. If he said he was moving your father and keeping your family safe, he will.”

“But for how long? I’m not under the delusion that he will protect them any longer than I prove useful. When that time comes, I want to be prepared.”

Keanu was quiet for a moment before he finally spoke in a voice that made her wish she could see his face. “That’s why you asked for the money.”

It wasn’t a question.

“I’m all they have, and my sister … she’s—or was—at University and she shouldn’t have to give that up.”

She felt the most guilt about that. She hadn’t ever stopped to consider what her actions would do to her family—how her quest for a different life would change everything.

“It’s always darkest when you hit the bottom. It feels impossible when you can’t see a way out, but it’s there. Give it time—this feeling will pass. Once this is over,” he said, shifting his hand from her hair to her face, drawing her gaze to him, “the way you’re feeling now will just be a memory.”

Lost in his words, she didn’t realize how close they were—how intimate it felt until she shifted and managed to press even closer.

“What is this?” she asked, wanting to know his answer, but afraid of what he might say.

Deep down, even if it was just for a moment, she knew what she hoped he would say.

“It can be whatever you want it to be,” he said in return, his voice just as low and affected as she felt.

The silence was charged, every nerve inside her body sparking and alive as she felt the first brush of his fingers along the nape of her neck. There was nothing gentle about the way he held her—he was firm. Unrelenting. He wanted her exactly where she was and made that clear.

As unsure as she felt, she couldn’t bring herself to pull away. She didn’t want to.

She could pretend, for a moment, that it wasn’t a kiss—that the brush of his lips along her jaw seeking her mouth was something innocent, but it was harder to pretend when she was turning into him, searching for him as much as he searched for her.

A moment passed where his lips hovered over hers, giving her the chance to end this—to pull away if she wanted, but instead, she arched up and kissed him.

He stole her breath without even trying, reminding her that it had been far too long since she’d been kissed. Even longer since she’d been kissed like this.

His lips teased over hers a moment before pressing harder, taking everything he wanted, forcing her to open when he was ready with slow, drugging sweeps of his tongue.

One hand inched deeper into her hair, fisting the strands, the other dipped to her waist and squeezed, shifting her with ridiculous ease until she was straddling him as best she could in the narrow confines of the hammock.

But that only made it that much sweeter because there was no place where they didn’t touch—her chest against his, and him fitting snugly between her thighs.

They had only kissed, yet she could feel the hard, thick ridge of him through the denim he wore.

In that moment, she didn’t want anything as much as she wanted him. To feel his hands on her skin, just as strong and sure as they were on her waist right now. She wanted to feel the rest of him when his clothes came off.

Was his skin as smooth and strong as it looked?

As she opened herself to him, allowing herself to explore every part of him that had set her imagination on fire, she never wanted this moment to end.

One kiss should have meant nothing.

One kiss meant everything.

***

Dressing the next morning, Ada couldn’t help but wonder whether they were going to talk about the night before and the kiss she couldn’t stop thinking about. It occupied her every thought, keeping her tossing and turning well into the morning before she’d finally fallen into a restless sleep.

The logical part of her wanted to believe it had been a mistake—a one time lapse in judgment that didn’t need to be repeated—but the other part of her wanted to explore it further.

Venturing upstairs, she made a quick breakfast, lingering in the living room until she heard the back door open and Keanu appeared, covered in a mixture of dust and sweat.

His smile was infinitely more pleasant as he shot her a grin before grabbing a water.

“Do you ever eat or drink anything that’s, I don’t know, unhealthy?” she asked.

“I treat my body like a temple.”

“I can see that.” When his brow shot up, she realized how that sounded even as she flushed. “Obviously, you’re … fit.”

He glanced down at himself as if he didn’t already know, patting the flat rock hard stomach she knew all too well now.

His phone chiming interrupted the moment, though he seemed reluctant to pull away, but with a sigh, he did.

She wondered whether it was the Kingmaker calling, but when his expression changed, turning soft as it had that first time they had dinner, something told her it wasn’t.

Once he moved away without a word as he answered the call and stepped out of the room onto the deck, she didn’t retreat to her room. She watched him instead, seeing the way the emotions flitted across his face.

The conversation wasn’t long, over in a matter of minutes before he was walking back inside.

Unable to contain her curiosity. “Who was that?” she asked once he was near again.

“Nothing to worry about,” he said in lieu of an answer.

This wasn’t the first time she wondered about the private calls he accepted and why he always left the room when he did. It might not have piqued her curiosity had he not answered the Kingmaker’s calls right in front of her the few times he’d called.

“Are you married?” she blurted out, a little afraid of his answer.

Probably would have been better to ask the question before last night, but it wasn’t as if that was planned. The kiss just happened, but of all the things she’d become in her life, mistress wouldn’t be one of them.

It was almost comical how offended he looked. “Not that kind of man.”

“But it wasn’t the Kingmaker or something to do with the contracts?”

He smiled as he said, “You’re asking a lot of questions today.”

“And you’re answering none of them.”

“I tell you what you need to know.”

“Which is still nothing. Imagine how well we’d get on if you shared.”

“I thought we got along just fine last night.”

She hadn’t wanted to give him the satisfaction of blushing, but judging from his answering chuckle, she wasn’t successful. “That’s besides the point, I think.”

“Mm. Wanna help me build a boat?”

“Is that what that thing is in the garage?” she asked, standing.

“Come on, I’ll show you.”

He led her downstairs and around to the makeshift workshop. The long pieces of wood she’d noticed the first day were all lined up neatly, one of which was set up on a table with a sander next to it—that explained all the dust on him.

“How long have you been building this?” she asked, running her fingers over the smooth surface.

“Going on two years now.” He grabbed another tool she couldn’t identify before coming back over to her side. “Ready?”

“I doubt I’m terribly good at this.”

“You’ll be fine,” he said as he took her hand. “As long as you don’t mind getting your hands dirty.”

“I’m not a delicate flower, you know.”

His arms came around her, grabbing the sander and pressing it into her hands.

“I’m getting that, babe.”

He placed his hands over hers, guiding her movements as she moved the sander over the wood. With each pass, she slowly understood why he enjoyed this.

It was easy to lose herself in the rhythmic routine of it all. They worked in comfortable silence for a long while until he paused long enough to smooth away the dust.

“What made you want to build this?” she asked, turning to face him.

He tossed the sander down, placing his hands flat against the table on either side of her. He seemed to contemplate his words before he answered. “When I was kid, I used to go down to Kaihuna Beach on the weekends and take a canoe out on the water with my buddy Kai. He was obsessed with the things and wanted to build one, but,”—he shrugged, his gaze going far away as if he was lost in a memory—“he never got the chance. I’m building this one in his memory.”

She touched his arm, offering comfort as much as she could. “It might not be finished yet, but I’d bet he’d love it anyway, especially once it’s finished.”

This had to be, above all else, the most personal thing he’d ever shared with her.

His gaze fell to her lips and she knew what he was about to do before he leaned in, but she wouldn’t have stopped him even if she wanted to.

She went up just as he came down, his lips brushing hers before he deepened the contact.

After last night, kissing him shouldn’t have been better—it couldn’t possibly be better than that first time—but she felt it down to her toes.

She expected it to end there, but she was acutely aware of the way his hands drifted down her spine, one cupping the swell of her butt, the other gripping her thigh with surprising strength that made her gasp against his mouth.

Was this what falling felt like?

The breath leaving her lungs. Her heart thumping rapidly in her chest.

If it was, she would happily fall for him.