Connor pushed open the heavy metal door of the jet as Sophie arrived for a morning meeting. Her eyes were puffy. Her short curls surrounded her face in a frizzy nimbus, and an ashy cast to her skin indicated stress. She was clearly upset about something.

“Pim Wat’s flash drive is a waste of time.” Sophie smacked the item in question into Connor’s hand. “I don’t know how to move forward on this situation with the Yām Khûmkạn.”

“Come get settled. Have some tea.”

“Perhaps another cup would be all right.” Sophie slid into the jet’s dining area, pulling a computer tablet out of the small backpack she carried everywhere. “I’m cutting down on caffeine.”

Connor put on the automatic kettle and measured the loose leaf tea they both liked into a hand thrown clay pot he’d picked up in Japan. He glanced over his shoulder and watched as Sophie’s long, golden-brown fingers flew over a wireless keyboard she’d connected to the tablet. “The Yām Khûmkạn’s tech contact Leni Keng has responded to my email. I’m telling him I need more information than Pim Wat provided. I don’t even know what she truly wants me to do at this point.”

“What happened last night?” Connor cocked his head. “You look like you’ve been crying.”

To his surprise, Sophie’s eyes filled immediately. She gave an audible sniff but didn’t look up. She shook her head, and a tear spilled. She dashed it away. “We have business to take care of. We can speak later.”

Connor frowned.

He returned to his own tablet, plugging in the drive to peruse the information Sophie’s mother had provided. Sketchy, at best. Not enough to do anything with.

Could Pim Wat have some other agenda involving Sophie? Some other reason for trying to lure her to the Yām Khûmkạn’s temple stronghold in Thailand?

“Leni Keng has provided me a video conferencing link,” Sophie said. “I’d like to make this call here, so you can witness everything.”

“Of course.” Connor got up and poured the tea. He placed the matching cups and teapot on a tray and returned with them to the table. She would tell him what was really going on when she was ready.

Sophie activated software to record the video conference call. Connor slid a little closer to her when he resumed his seat so that he could see her screen but was still out of view of the camera.

Moments later, a young man’s face appeared. Long hair in a ponytail and a plain white tee set off golden skin and Asian features.

As Connor had been concerned might happen, the two spoke rapidly in Thai, too quickly for his beginning language skills to follow. He caught about every third word. He watched Sophie’s face, and the scrunch of her brows told him she wasn’t pleased with what she was hearing.

Connor battled frustration at not understanding the language. He’d run the whole thing through a translation program later and replay it as often as he wanted. The two techs wrapped up the call, and Sophie punched the end button on her keyboard briskly.

She picked up her cup of tea and took a sip, then sat back and met his eyes squarely for the first time that day.

“I still don’t know what my mother really wants, even after talking to Keng. The Yām Khûmkạn maintains a practically invisible digital footprint, and they have no plans of changing that. Keng told me that yes, there have been incursions, but the leaks were done the old-fashioned way: someone from within the organization outed agents’ identities to Interpol. It had to have been done old-school, through in-person spying, or as a payoff for information. There is no roster of agents anywhere on a computer that Keng is aware of. The Yām stays off the grid. It’s part of their defensive strategy.”

“What is this job that she wants you to do, then?” Connor turned the handleless cup around and around in his hands. “I don’t trust your mother as far as I can throw her.”

“Yes. My mother is petite, but she would be difficult to hurl any distance. So that’s a good analogy.”

Connor flicked a glance at Sophie’s face to make sure she wasn’t teasing him, but her serious mien told him that she had, indeed, interpreted his turn of phrase literally. He suppressed a smile. He really loved her pedantic moments. “Pim Wat is playing a deep game.”

Should he tell Sophie how the Ghost had been manipulating Pim Wat through selective information?

No.

Sophie would not like how he’d been using her mother to eliminate threats and enemies. Even though the kills Pim Wat had performed with the information he’d fed her showed the assassin’s true colors, her actions also showed how far the woman would go to protect her offspring. Sophie might interpret that as love, when Pim Wat’s murders were nothing but narcissistic, possessive self-interest.

Pim Wat wanted Sophie for some purpose not yet revealed.

They might have to go all the way to the stronghold in Thailand to find out what it was, and that wasn’t a risk worth taking.

“We should get back to McDonald with this information from the stick drive and Keng. Tell him that we are currently stymied,” Sophie said. “We’ve run into a wall, as they say.”

“Nice turn of phrase.” Connor refilled their teacups. “Let’s give him a call on the secure number he provided.”

Sophie nodded. Moments later, she set her phone on a stand between them. The CIA agent’s voice fizzled slightly on the phone’s speaker. “Devin McDonald.”

“This is Sophie Ang, Mr. McDonald. You’re on speaker. I’m with Mr. Hamilton of Security Solutions. We are in a secure location for this conversation.”

“Good. What have you got for me?” McDonald didn’t waste any time.

“I met with Pim Wat in a park yesterday, and she gave me a stick drive that was supposedly going to show me what the job for the Yām Khûmkạn was. There was hardly anything on it: a few read-only files stored in the Cloud, an application portal, and contact info for their tech agent. I just got off of a videoconference with that person. His name is Leni Keng.” Sophie took a sip of tea and continued. “The tech confirmed that the Yām Khûmkạn has no centralized database and no online presence that the organization wants to maintain. He was confused as to why I was getting involved at all. I did not tell him how I came to have his contact information, only that I had been recruited by someone from the Yām to provide further tech support and wanted to get started.” Sophie poured a little more tea. “My impression was that Keng was telling the truth. He honestly seemed to wonder what I could do or add to the current strategy he’d been tasked with—which was maintaining as little of a cyber presence as possible. In fact, the man said he spends the majority of his time tracking online mentions of the Yām Khûmkạn and removing them from the Web.”

“Sounds fishy as hell.” McDonald growled. “Do you think that there might be some other agenda going on? Maybe Pim Wat is off the reservation on this recruitment attempt and going it alone for her own reasons. You are her daughter, after all.”

“What does that mean, ‘off the reservation?’” Sophie’s brows drew together. “Sounds like a racist phrase referring to Native Americans. Are you implying that my mother could be using the Yām Khûmkạn for her own personal purposes?”

“Pim Wat wants you to go to the temple stronghold, and so do we. That’s the logical next step in finding out more.” McDonald sounded testy.

“Regardless, I won’t go.” Sophie said. When Connor glanced over at her, Sophie’s arm muscles were tight as she crossed her fists over her waist.

“We need more from Pim Wat herself,” Connor said. “Why she reached out to Sophie. Why she’s been so persistent, but so uncommunicative about her actual purpose.”

“Maybe the agency should grab Pim Wat. Ship her out to Guantánamo for a little questioning,” McDonald said. “That can easily be arranged.”

“Are you threatening my mother? Trying to gain my compliance by blackmailing me with her safety?” Sophie’s voice trembled with outrage.

“I’m just saying that Pim Wat is behaving in a suspicious manner and would benefit from being formally interviewed. There is more than one way to skin a cat.” The agent ended the call with a click.

“Skin a cat? That sounds terrible! Son of a water buffalo! Foul stench of rats’ entrails!” Sophie wrapped her hands around her cup as if trying to warm them. “He threatened my mother with Guantánamo!”

“I told you the CIA did not have your best interests at heart,” Connor said. “I have been waiting for them to play dirty pool, and it looks like McDonald just made his opening move.” He reached over and covered Sophie’s hand with his. “I know you don’t want to go to the Yām Khûmkạn temple, but it would be a fascinating recon. I could help keep you safe.”

Sophie pulled away and stood up. “Keep me safe? Like you did when we were almost shot out of the sky in your helicopter?” She pressed a hand to her stomach, her fingers spread. “No, thank you.”

Connor had never seen her make that gesture before. “What’s going on, Sophie? Tell me.”

Her eyes met his. “There’s a very good reason why I don’t want to go to the Yām Khûmkạn stronghold. I don’t want to endanger my baby.”

“Your what?” The meaning of her words refused to penetrate. “What baby?”

Sophie just stared at him, and the tiny circles her hand made against her abdomen drew his gaze. Realization burst over his brain in a heat wave of some deep emotion he could not put a name to. “You’re pregnant.”

“Yes.”

“How far along?” Dizzying hope that she might be pregnant from their time together, that the child might be his, washed over him—but a second later reality swept that away. She would be well along in the pregnancy if that were true, and her belly still looked completely flat.

“I’m not sure. Eight weeks, perhaps.” Sophie’s cheeks had gone pink. Her tawny-brown eyes seemed to glow. “It is early yet, but I have to make lifestyle changes.”

“You’re happy about this?” Connor sounded incredulous, even to his own ears. It seemed impossible, but Sophie did appear happy about a circumstance that might be disastrous to her personally and professionally.

“It is not the best situation, and I was upset last night…but the longer I know about it, the better I feel about what’s happened.” Sophie sat back down, poured a little more tea. “I thought I could not have children. It was careless of me not to take enough precautions, but I find that I am indeed happy.”

“And Jake? What does Jake think of becoming a father right now?” Connor’s mouth tasted bitter as he forced the name out. Jake. He wished he could hate that guy, but the man was likeable, good at his job, and clearly besotted with Sophie.

A shadow crossed Sophie’s face. She picked up her cup and took a sip of the tea. “He is adjusting to the news.”

“Is that why you were crying last night?” Devastated as he was, the thought of Jake rejecting the woman he loved and her child enraged Connor. “I’ll kill him if he doesn’t do right by you.”

“You may not kill Jake, Connor. For any reason.” Always so literal. But in this instance, Connor heard the command Sophie was issuing the Ghost. She got up, walked to the galley, and dumped the remaining liquid into the small steel sink. “This whole situation is not your business, really. I only told you so that you would understand why I am so adamant about not going to the stronghold. I didn’t want to go before, but now I am certain it would be a dangerous move. I don’t trust my mother, or why she wants me there. She might even have some new marriage alliance planned for me. There’s nothing I would put past her.”

“You are right not to trust Pim Wat. And how will she respond to knowing you’re pregnant?” Connor frowned. He didn’t have a good feeling—Pim Wat was unpredictable. She might hate the idea of being a grandmother, or love it. Either option could be threatening to Sophie.

Sophie turned to face him, hands supporting her on either side of the sink. “I don’t want Pim Wat to find out. Ever. I don’t want her around any child of mine.” She blew out a breath. “I might as well tell you everything. Alika and I slept together during the time frame that might have led to the pregnancy. He also could be the father.”

Jealousy stole his breath like a blow to the chest. Connor clicked his tongue sarcastically. “My, my. Sophie and her lovers. Quite a daytime reality show.”

“Your judgment regarding my sex life is hypocrisy,” Sophie said evenly. “How many women have you had in your bed? How many meaningless liaisons?”

“More than a few. None that I didn’t take precautions with.” Connor regretted what he’d said. Women faced a double standard, and he’d succumbed to a crude inference. Unresolvable misery made every word feel heavy, every movement slow. “I’m sorry, Sophie. You should know…I haven’t been with anyone since you, so it’s hard for me to hear this.” Connor turned away, looking out the window of the jet to get his emotions under control. “What’s going to happen next?”

Sophie took his question literally. “I have a therapy appointment with Dr. Wilson scheduled for this afternoon. I also have to look for an obstetrics and gynecology physician and arrange for the paternity test and my own maternity checkup. Then I will make arrangements to go to Kaua`i and talk with Alika.” She sighed. “I can only take one step at a time. The way forward seems uncertain and difficult.”

A long silence passed as Connor struggled within himself.

Sophie needed a friend, someone to count on through all of this.

He’d told her once that love was wanting the beloved to have what they needed—even if that was someone else. Could he be that friend to her, continue to support her, even as she carried another man’s child? It would certainly be easier for him if both Alika and Jake rejected her.

Connor allowed himself a moment of giddy hope: she would let him take care of her through this crisis. He would be by her side every step of the way. She’d not only forgive him, but fall in love with him again. He would adopt her baby and be her life partner. They would be a family.

But that dream wasn’t likely to happen.

Alika and Jake loved her too, and whatever pique Jake might be feeling was likely to be short-lived, unless the child was Alika’s. But what if it was? And she’d said she was done with Alika, regardless, that their lifestyles were incompatible…

There was no way to know what any of them would do.

He had to decide about his role with Sophie for himself, no one else, and not dependent on any other choice she made, either.

Resolved, Connor stood. He walked over and took Sophie’s cold, limp hands. He rubbed her palms with his thumbs, willing warmth back into her, and held her apprehensive gaze as he did so.

“You don’t have to go through this alone. No matter what happens, I’ll help you. Don’t bother making reservations for Kaua`i. I’ll have Thom fly you over and bring you back when you’re done talking to Alika and making any arrangements you need to. And whatever the medical things cost, don’t worry. The company will pick it up. You and the baby will have the best care available.”

Sophie’s mouth opened. Her eyes filled. She crumpled forward into Connor’s arms. She clung to him like a life raft. Her body shook with silent sobs.

It was disorienting to see her so vulnerable—even when he’d picked her up at the edge of death in the lava wilderness, she’d kept him at arm’s length.

Protectiveness surged up in Connor as he patted her back, smoothed her hair, and let her ruin his immaculate shirt with tears. Being needed was good enough for now.