Chapter Twenty-Four
Harley
Two days later
They touched down in Prague midmorning and fetched the key to the apartment from a PO box near the airport. By noon, they were getting into their third cab and completing their circuitous route to the apartment where Dom and Jasper were staying.
Harley didn’t sense that they were being followed, but it was best to be careful. While they were in Bangkok, Clay had been in touch with his associates at the CIA. They’d confirmed that Marlowe had been in south Thailand a couple of weeks ago, only days after Harley had been kidnapped. Even if Clay hadn’t taken her away, Marlowe’s early arrival would have surprised her. There was a chance she wouldn’t have had time to erase all evidence of Jasper’s existence before her boss arrived.
The knowledge made her less angry with Clay than she’d been before, taking her rage level down to…Not Really That Angry At All.
In the past two days, Clay had been a complete gentleman. He’d cooperated, kept his promises, and been unfailingly polite, even when she insisted they spend a few hours shopping for clothing in Bangkok, ensuring she, at least, had something appropriate and nondescript for the journey to Prague. None of the shops had sizes large enough to accommodate Clay’s shoulders, but he had other clothing with him aside from a castoff pair of scrubs.
No, Harley had no reason to complain about his behavior, but she couldn’t help being frustrated by it. The moment they’d agreed to work together, a wall had come down behind his eyes. She knew she should be grateful that he had seen reason—and she was—but she didn’t like being shut out.
It was madness to prefer the insane Clay who’d kidnapped her and fucked her in the dirt to respectful Clay who held the door open for her as she slid out of a taxi.
But she had never been particularly sane or reasonable, especially where this man was concerned.
“They’re on the tenth floor,” she said, clutching the handle of her small leather suitcase tight as she started around the block.
“I’m assuming there’s more than one point of entry?” Clay asked.
Harley nodded. “The penthouse has access to the landing pad on the roof in case of the need for air extraction and there are three exit points—the elevator used by all the residents, the main staircase, and a separate servants’ staircase that was blocked off from the rest of the building when it was renovated several years ago. Now that entrance only services the penthouse. That’s where we’ll go in.”
Clay kept close as she slipped into the alleyway between two late nineteenth century buildings, shortening his stride so that he remained just a pace behind her, ready to draw down on any threats approaching from ahead or behind. He carried his bag in his left hand, leaving his right free to reach for the weapon hidden beneath his weathered leather jacket.
After a brief argument during which Harley had made it clear that she knew her way around a gun, Clay had convinced her to seek cover at the first sign of trouble while he took care of any deadly force. He was a CIA agent, after all, with more legal loopholes to slip through to get away with shooting someone on foreign soil. Harley would have a much harder time explaining herself if she were caught with a smoking gun.
“Should you call ahead?” He stopped beside her, scanning the alley while she slipped the key from her jacket pocket. It was still cool in Prague in June and she was grateful for the light cotton jacket and thick linen pants she’d purchased in Bangkok. “To make sure your man knows I’m not a threat?”
“He’ll know you’re not a threat.” She unlocked the door and stepped over the marble threshold into a tasteful entryway. “And he’s not my man. He’s his own man. He’s watching Jasper as a favor. I don’t give him orders, so don’t assume he’ll take them from you, either.”
Clay grunted as she locked the door behind them. “I didn’t plan on giving any orders, but that’s good to know.”
“Just wanted you to understand the lay of the land.” She started up the stairwell, which was decidedly more rustic than the tasteful entryway where servants from another age would have received packages and sent out messages to other members of Prague’s higher society. “Dom can be touchy, but I can handle him. Just let me do the talking.”
She glanced back over her shoulder, not surprised to see tension in Clay’s expression. “And relax. Everything’s going to be fine. Jasper will be thrilled to meet you.”
“I am a little nervous.” Clay let out a long slow breath. “What if he wants to know where I’ve been the past six years?”
“Then we’ll tell him the truth. That I thought you were dead and you thought I was dead.” She scrunched her nose. “We’ll leave out the part about you kidnapping me and me knocking you unconscious. No need to scare him.”
Clay’s fingers captured her elbow and tugged lightly, stopping her on the landing. It was the first time he’d touched her since that day in the pool. Harley’s pulse spiked in response, but when she turned back to him, she was careful to keep her expression neutral. She refused to let him know that she was still attracted to him, not when it was clear he had shut down that part of himself and locked it away.
It was for the best—this was going to be confusing enough for everyone involved without her and Clay hate-fucking on the side—but she couldn’t help regretting that she would never touch him again. Never feel his skin hot beneath her fingertips or learn what it would be like to kiss him without any secrets or lies getting in the way.
“Thank you. Really. I…” His hand fell away from her arm. “I appreciate you making an effort to help this go well.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” she asked with a shake of her head. “I want Jasper to have a good relationship with his father.”
She crossed her arms, the better not to take his hand and give it an encouraging squeeze. “And I’d have to be a pretty outrageous hypocrite to hope to be forgiven for the things I’ve done without offering forgiveness to other people in return. You know what I mean?”
“You really forgive me?” he asked, a vulnerable note in his voice she had been fairly sure she would never hear again.
She glanced up, a shiver working through her as a current of awareness arced through the air between them. It was thin and delicate—nothing like the lightning strike that had exploded between them on the island—but it was something, a sign that maybe he wasn’t as immune to her as he’d seemed for the past two days.
“I’m working on it,” she said honestly. “The confession and the past two days have helped a lot, and I have a feeling seeing Jasper will finish the job. I can’t wait to give him a hug.” She sighed, fighting a wave of emotion. “Let’s go. I’m excited for you to meet him, too.”
Shadows flickered behind his eyes, but he nodded. “Okay.”
At any other time, Harley might have stayed on the landing, pressing him until she learned if it was something other than nerves making him look like his dog was on its way to be put down, but right now she was too eager to get upstairs.
Jasper was so close. In a few minutes, she would have him in her arms again.
She took the stairs two at a time and arrived at the door breathing hard, but she couldn’t make herself wait to catch her breath before she knocked. She gave the special rap—three short, swift knocks, two slow, and then three fast again—and bounced on her toes, waiting impatiently for Dom to make it to the door, knowing better than to surprise him by letting herself in.
When he opened the door, she hurled herself into his arms, hugging him hard enough to make him grunt. “Thank you for making me get into shape,” she whispered into the warm curve of his neck. “You’re the very best.”
Dom grunted again, his body stiffening even as he returned her embrace. “And who’s this?”
“An old friend,” Harley said, releasing Dom and searching the wide, airy apartment behind him for Jasper. “I’ll explain after—”
“Mama!” Jasper appeared around the corner leading out of the kitchen. He dropped the toys he held—Sasquatch in one hand and chicken pox teddy in the other—and sprinted across the room, a smile lighting up his face.
She squatted down and held out her arms; he crashed into them with enough force to send them both rolling to the floor.
“Hey, bug,” she said, fighting tears as he squirmed into her lap and hugged her tight. She returned the embrace, knowing there was nothing in life more precious than hugs like these. “Oh man, I missed you so, so much. I’ve been thinking about you all day, every day.”
“Me too,” he said, arms tightening around her neck. “I was so worried. I thought something bad had happened.”
“Why would you think that, baby?” Harley petted his hair as she lifted curious eyes to Dominic’s face. But Dom only shook his head slightly and returned to side-eyeing Clay like it was his job.
“I’ve been having bad dreams.” Jasper pulled back to look at her, a furrow between his pale brows. “I hate bad dreams. I hate how they feel so real until the sun comes up.”
“Me too,” Harley said, kissing his forehead. “But now I’m back and I bet you won’t have any more bad dreams.”
“And if I do I can come sleep in your bed.” Jasper grinned, mischief sparking in his eyes.
Harley laughed as she hugged him close again. “Yes, you can come sleep in my bed, but only for a night or two. With the way you kick, I’d be black and blue if we had too many sleepovers.”
“I don’t kick in my sleep,” Jasper said indignantly.
“How would you know?” Harley said, ruffling his hair. “You’re asleep.”
“Watch it, lady,” he said, smiling as he rubbed his forehead against her shoulder.
“I’m not a lady, I’m your mother,” she murmured, her heartbeat finally starting to return to its normal rhythm.
He was here, he was safe in her arms, and they were both going to be okay. Jasper would adjust to the idea of a father in his life, and she would eventually stop worrying that she was making a huge mistake. This was the only way forward. She either let Clay into Jasper’s life in a controlled, cooperative manner or destroyed herself trying to keep him out.
Besides, she could do worse than a CIA agent for an ex. At least she could trust him to take the necessary measures to keep Jasper safe.
“So, I’m sure you noticed that I brought someone to visit,” Harley said, patting Jasper’s back as she pulled away from their embrace. “Would you like me to introduce you?”
Jasper gazed shyly up at Clay. “Okay.”
Harley stood, holding onto Jasper’s hand, more nervous than she thought she would be. The fact that Dom was standing there scowling at her like she had brought a rabid dog into the apartment wasn’t helping things.
Maybe she should have called ahead to warn him, but she’d known there was no way to explain something like this over the phone. She would pull Dom aside and talk him off the ledge as soon as she could, but first, she had to get the hardest part of this out of the way.
“Clay, this is Jasper,” she said, pausing to clear her throat before she pushed on with a smile for Jasper’s sake. “Jasper, this is Clay. I was told that he’d passed away a long time ago, but he’s alive. He found me on the island after you left and couldn’t wait to come see you. He’s your father, the one I never thought you would be able to meet.”
“Really?” Jasper’s eyes went wide as he gazed up at Clay.
“Yes. Really.” She fought the urge to wince at how awkward she sounded, refusing to look at Dom, whom she could feel shooting daggers at her from over Clay’s shoulder.
Clay knelt down, putting himself at Jasper’s level. “Hi, Jasper. I’m so happy to meet you. Your mom has told me so many great things about you.”
Jasper’s shy smile widened. “She brags about me sometimes.”
Clay smiled back, his grin a mirror image of his son’s. “Well, that’s what moms are supposed to do, right?”
Jasper nodded. “Do you have a mom?”
Harley laughed. “Of course he does, Jasper. Everyone has a mom.”
“But his mom would be my grandma,” Jasper said, shooting her a “duh, Mom” look.
“Yes, I have a mom,” Clay said, the awe in his eyes putting Harley’s fears at ease. Clay wasn’t going to hurt Jasper. He was going to love him, the way a father should. “And she’s going to be so excited to meet you. She’ll spoil you rotten and make you her famous rocky road cookies.”
“I don’t want to be rotten,” Jasper said. “But I’ve always wanted a grandma. Does she have gray hair like grandmas in cartoons?”
“No, she has blond hair like us,” Clay said. “And the same blue eyes.”
Jasper beamed, apparently liking that response. “Do you want to come see my toys? I have an ugly toy collection and some new puppets and cars that Dom and I got at the toy shop.”
“I would love to see your toys.” Clay glanced uncertainly at Harley as Jasper took his hand, seeming surprised that this was going so smoothly.
“Yeah, you two go. Have fun,” she said, before adding in sotto voce. “Kids are less complicated. Just go with the flow and you’ll be fine.”
“I’m complicated sometimes,” Jasper said, grabbing her hand, making it clear he’d heard every word. “Come on, Mama. You come too. I want to show you my dinosaur puppets.”
Harley gave his fingers a squeeze. “I’ll come in just a second, babe. Let me talk to Dom first and I’ll be right in.”
“Okay.” Jasper dropped her hand and began towing Clay across the room, the novelty of having a father overshadowing the return of the same old mom who had been around forever.
Harley watched them go until they were around the corner and then turned to face yet another very angry looking man.
It seemed angry men were her lot in life lately.