Cari’s feet dragged as she headed reluctantly for dinner. She didn’t want to face either her father or Joe right now. But Gunter had been clear when he’d fetched her out of hiding in the servants’ quarters. Tonight’s meal was a command performance. Her eyes narrowed bitterly. Performance being the operative word. She would be expected to paint on a cheerful face, to act as if everything was okay when her mind was in turmoil, her heart in an uproar.

She needed straight talk from Joe. Honesty. Answers. Who was he? What was he really here to do? And, most importantly, how did he really feel about her?

While she was busy stewing over such things, she might as well stew over how she really felt about him. Her primary reaction to the knife fight had been pure, unadulterated panic that Joe would be hurt or even killed. That thought still sent her heart up into her throat and made her palms clammy with the cold sweat of terror. It had even crossed her mind to jump into the fight and throw herself on Rico’s knife to save Joe. She closed her eyes on pain so sharp at the thought of losing Joe that a knife might as well have slipped between her ribs.

He kept telling her she had no idea what love was. But dammit, if being willing to sacrifice herself to keep him safe wasn’t love, she gave up. Whether she liked it or not—and whether he liked it or not—she loved Joe whatever-his-name-was.

No matter that he was capable of explosive violence. No matter whether he did the things he did in the name of serving his country or to advance his own nefarious ambitions. It made no difference whatsoever to her heart. And, frankly, that scared the hell out of her.

She’d loved her father through all of the atrocities he’d committed. Was she repeating the same colossal mistake? Was she simply blind when it came to the men she loved?

And maybe that was her answer. Maybe love was, indeed, blind. She’d told Joe before that the heart loves where it wills. Maybe she should just follow her heart in spite of her concerns over Joe’s alignment with the law.

And maybe she was working too damned hard to justify why she ought to give herself permission to love Joe. Maybe if she would just stop analyzing for a second, she would look herself square in the eye and admit that all these arguments were moot. She loved him. End of discussion.

The real question was what to do about it.

Did she dare pursue a relationship with him? Was she stepping out from between Eduardo and Julia’s feud only to land in the middle of a private war between Eduardo and Joe? Would she live a life of fear, waiting at home alone for an ominous knock on the door from a stranger to tell her Joe had died?

Overthinking again, dammit.

If she’d learned nothing else growing up around her volatile father and the deadly world he lived in, it was to take each day as it came. To enjoy the richness of the moment at hand and not dwell on a past that couldn’t be changed or a future that might or might not ever arrive.

Sure, a future with Joe would have its uncertainties. If he was in the Blackjacks, she would have to wait out the long absences that came with the job. If he was a wannabe crime lord…

Been there, done that, got the T-shirt.

But deep inside, Cari was certain Joe was no criminal. He was one of the good guys, and her father—as much as she loved him—was definitely one of the bad guys. Joe had put Rico back together; Eduardo would have fed him to the sharks.

It occurred to her that this was what unconditional love was all about. Loving someone no matter what he did or who he was. Like her father. Like Joe. But loving them didn’t mean you had to like them or respect them or be loyal to them. Those things had to be earned. And from everything Cari had seen, Joe had earned them, her father had not. In fact, except for the part of her that loved Eduardo, she loathed and hated him and was filled with despair so black and deep she didn’t know if she would ever find the bottom of it.

Until she’d met Joe.

He’d pulled her back from the edge of self-destruction. And he’d been kind to her. Decent. Honorable. She loved Joe, and not knowing the identity of whom he worked for made no difference. At all.

Never in a million years would she have guessed she would meet a man she could love enough to accept no matter what he did or who he was. So this was what unconditional love was all about. She’d heard people talk about it, but now she finally grasped what they were talking about. Go figure.

She reached the bottom of the sweeping staircase and headed for the dining room, her heart immeasurably lighter at having made peace with her feelings for Joe and her father.

The long table was full tonight. Eduardo was already seated at the head of the table. The place on his right was empty, presumably for her. Joe sat at Eduardo’s left. Gunter sat in the seat to the right of hers, and the rest of the table was lined with Eduardo’s primary lieutenants.

She frowned. Was this going to be a working supper? She couldn’t believe her father planned to talk business in front of Joe. Had the way Joe handled himself today made that big an impression on her father? Had Joe passed some sort of unspoken test out there by the pool?

Cautiously, Cari sat down at the table. One of the maids placed a salad in front of her and she picked up her fork.

She looked up at Joe, who was staring fixedly at her, clearly trying to figure out her mood. She smiled shyly at him, glad she didn’t have to talk to him just yet. Even if they had been alone, without a camera or bug in sight, she wouldn’t have known where to begin. It wasn’t like she could just blurt out a proposal to him; they were already married.

Joe smiled back, more with his eyes than any change of facial expression, but it was enough. His gaze spoke volumes to her, silently communicating that they were still okay, that he cared for her in spite of her earlier outburst, that he forgave her for her doubts and hoped she forgave him for the fight and for scaring her.

Her gaze softened even more and she let her eyes fill with all the love she was feeling for him.

His eyes widened in turn, and then a full-blown smile broke across his face.

Jubilation erupted in her belly. She didn’t need words to know he loved her back. No man could look at a woman like that and not be in love with her.

Sudden, overwhelming impatience to get out of there, to be alone with him, to tell him everything in her heart overcame her. She ate faster, speeding the moment when they could make their exit, go upstairs and fall into each other’s arms.

The candles flickering down the length of the table seemed to burn brighter, and the food even tasted better. Everything was going to turn out right. They might just get a shot at happily ever after together.

Even Eduardo was in a jovial mood tonight. He talked and joked with his men freely. Over the platters of fresh fruit the maids carried out next, he even told a couple of stories about his boyhood in the streets of Gavarone. The moral of his misspent youth usually had to do with needing to be tough and smart to survive, and tonight was no different.

A plate of succulent prime rib was placed before her, and she cut into it with relish.

“Cari.”

She looked up, surprised at her father.

“I got you something for your help at my meeting yesterday. You earned it. Vasily said he’s looking forward to doing business with me again and is especially looking forward to getting to know you better. I apologized for your hasty retreat last night but assured him you’d be more accommodating next time.”

She froze, the smile on her face as rigid and fragile as hand-blown glass. Disbelief at what Eduardo was saying swept over her. He was blatantly trying to pay her off to sleep with that disgusting pervert. And he had the gall to do it in front of her husband! What a gigantic… She couldn’t think of a horrible-enough word to describe Eduardo. And, oh God, Joe. What must he be thinking? She couldn’t bring herself to look over at him, afraid that if he saw the panic in her eyes, he would attack Eduardo on the spot.

Eduardo reached carelessly into his sports coat and pulled out a long, flat jeweler’s box. He set it on the table beside Cari’s plate. “I guess you can still be of some use to me.”

Her face felt hot. Surely, the mask of ice would melt off any second and she would be able to move again. To open her mouth and scream her outrage at this humiliation. The only thing that kept her in one piece was the knowledge that soon she and Joe would be out of there, and her father would have no more control over her life.

“Open it,” her father snapped. “It cost a lot. You should at least look at the damned thing.”

Woodenly, she reached out and picked up the box. She lifted the lid. Inside lay a necklace made of twin slashes of gold, each nearly as long as her finger. They crossed asymmetrically in the middle. From one of them hung a row of teardrop-shaped ruby pendants that increased in size until the final thumbnail-size drop, which trembled from the very tip of the golden rod.

How very appropriate. The rubies looked just like drops of blood hanging off a big stick.

Blood money.

How many times had she accepted gifts like this from her father and thought that they were a sign of his esteem for her? How many times had she misinterpreted these bribes as a show of affection? Why was it that only now she finally saw them for what they really were—payoffs for silence kept or services rendered? It made her ill to even look at the row of red droplets.

“Well?” Eduardo demanded.

She closed the lid carefully. Set the box back down on the table. Pushed it away from her toward her father’s plate. “I can’t accept it.”

“Why the hell not?” Eduardo’s eyes narrowed in displeasure.

“I’m not planning to earn it.”

Eduardo stopped eating. Stared. And his brows drew together like twin thunderheads. Daddy didn’t like it when people didn’t fall in line like they were supposed to. “You’ll change your mind,” he said confidently before picking up his fork again.

Cari finally gathered the courage to glance over at Joe. Undisguised pride in her shone in his dark gaze. He got it. He knew what that necklace represented, and he definitely knew what her refusal of it meant.

And then a strange thing happened. Of all people, Gunter reached beneath the table and gave her hand a quick squeeze. It happened so fast she didn’t even really register the slight pressure on her fingers until it was gone.

She’d done it. She’d made the break with her father. She’d finally seen him for what he was and rejected being used by him any longer. She’d grown up.

And she owed it all to Joe. Without him, she might never have seen her father clearly, might never have known what real love acted like. She smiled brilliantly across the table at her husband, her gratitude for his lessons in love boundless. He nodded infinitesimally in return, a smile playing around the corners of his eyes.

Dessert was served: crepes stuffed with flambéed plantains and fresh pineapple. The whole thing was smothered in a sinful pecan-caramel sauce and topped with whipped cream. And tonight, she was going to eat every last bite of it!

Her spoon bit into the delicious confection, and the first sticky, tempting bite was halfway to her mouth when she heard a sudden disturbance from the direction of the front door. Someone—a man—was talking excitedly, demanding entrance and claiming to need to see Eduardo immediately.

Every head turned toward the noise. The bodyguards at the far end of the table, closest to the commotion, reached under their coats for their weapons.

Cari frowned as the South African information broker from the day before burst into the dining room, accompanied by two very agitated guards.

“Señor Ferrare, I apologize for coming to you this way, but it is a matter of greatest urgency.”

Eduardo frowned. “I’ve already gotten the information I was looking for from another source. The money has already been collected.”

The South African waved a hand impatiently. “It’s not that. In attempting to acquire that information for you, I ran across something much more important.”

Cari’s frown deepened as Eduardo leaned forward, alert and eager. “What did you find?” her father asked aggressively.

A horrifying thought overwhelmed Cari. Had this guy figured out that the Blackjacks had a man inside Eduardo’s house, eating supper at his table at this very moment?

She interjected, with desperate calm, “Daddy, why don’t you and your associate adjourn this conversation to somewhere more private, like your office?” Maybe that would give Joe a few minutes to make a run for it. Give him a fighting chance to get out of here alive.

Her father slashed a decisive hand through the air. “No, I want to hear it right now.”

The South African gulped. Took a big swallow. Not good. Not good at all. He was getting ready to reveal something bad. Something that would make her father angry. It had to be Joe. Frantic, she glanced over at Joe, willing him to excuse himself from the table. To pretend to go to the bathroom or something. To get out of here!

But Joe just sat there, a faint frown between his eyes, staring at the South African. If the table hadn’t been so wide, she would have kicked his foot under the table to get his attention. She all but threw her napkin at him to get him to look at her so she could motion him to flee.

The South African cleared his throat. “My…sources…intercepted this message less than an hour ago. It was transmitted from an operating location in the north-central United States to the Pentagon Operations Center. It’s a very classified message.”

“And what did this message have to say that sent you flying in here in the middle of dessert?” Eduardo prompted the man.

“Ahh, well, yes.” The South African cleared his throat nervously. “It was a transmission from the Blackjacks. That’s why it was brought to my attention right away. They were reporting…” He looked down at the top piece of paper clutched in his hand. “Let me read it to you: ‘The Blackjacks commander regrets to inform ops that the primary target of Operation Moneybag has met with a most unfortunate accident and has died. Photographic confirmation to follow.’”

A sick feeling started at the bottom of Cari’s stomach and began to worm its way upward as Eduardo growled, “What the hell is Operation Moneybag?”

The South African cringed a little as he answered, “It’s not what. It’s who. Operation Moneybag was your daughter, Julia. The Blackjacks have killed her.”