I RACED OUT OF THAT hotel suite and headed to the elevator—pressing those stupid buttons and begging those doors to take me away from this nightmare. I reached into my purse to grab my cell phone and call for a cab.

Had I just squandered my best chance to find out the truth and save Joaquín? After everything I’d gone through to get here, how could I be so careless?

I flicked off those ridiculous heels and threw them in my purse. I was wrong—I didn’t have what it took to accomplish this. I couldn’t handle being treated like a whore. Not by the love of my life. I fantasized about unbridled passion with Grant, nothing off-limits. But I had to feel like he saw me as more than a random stripper to get off with. I’d just wanted to tease him, bait him, but I panicked when I couldn’t control my emotions. I needed to regroup.

The blue light on the elevator button taunted me. Open!

Thump, thump, thump.

I didn’t need to look back. The rhythm of Grant’s gait gave him away.

I shuffled back a step. He’d always been protective of me as Mia, but I was impressed that he’d come back to retrieve a stripper.

He placed his hand on my shoulder, and I shuddered. “Ksenya, I’m sorry. You’re so fucking sexy, and I can be a prick when I’m drunk. I can call you a taxi or you can stay here with me. I won’t touch you.”

The elevator door opened. My resolve forced my feet to stay put and not hightail it inside. I had to see this through, stay with him tonight. His false bravado masked his loneliness. I knew the real Grant. Deep down, I wanted to comfort him, hold him, make love to him, be the woman he needed, and apologize for abandoning him.

But my only goal now was to get him to trust me. “I forgive you.”

His arms extended to me, and he pulled me into his chest. For a second, I tried to resist, retreat into my shell, but I found comfort in his embrace. His bulging arms seemed almost twice the size they had when I saw him at his apartment in January—how was that even possible? Sure, he was twenty-three now, not the same lean nineteen-year-old boy I’d fallen in love with. But his biceps were massive, like one of those slicked-up bodybuilding guys you saw on television. Was Grant using steroids? I’d seen him only six months ago, and he hadn’t been this ripped.

I couldn’t dismiss this thought, especially now. I had to find out what had happened to Tiffany, and I refused to allow myself to let my feelings for Grant get in the way of my mission.

What was the link, where were the clues? Drugs, sex, money? Maybe that saké and wine were too potent, because not a thing about Grant, or this night, made any sense to me. This man standing in front of me, who could easily be Thor’s stunt double, was nothing like the man he’d once been, the man I’d given my heart to.

“Let’s go inside. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

I nodded, and we walked back into the hotel room. He poured me a glass of water, and we snuggled up on the sofa. This was more like it. He stroked my hair, and I nuzzled his chest. I had so many questions, but I couldn’t decide which ones to start with.

My throat burned. “Why did you take me to here? Do you have girlfriend at your home?” My heart thumped. I didn’t want to know the answer to this question, not that I had any reason to believe he would tell me the truth.

He swallowed and his voice softened. “Nah, babe. I just thought you’d like this place. I just wanted to take you somewhere nice, figured you weren’t used to a place like this. I had a girl once, a few years ago. She left me when I was in an accident.”

This time he wasn’t lying. I blinked back tears; my brown contacts itched. After my parents died, I couldn’t imagine loving someone so deeply and losing them. Being the sister of a SEAL was bad enough; I couldn’t fathom being the widow of one.

“I am sorry, Grant. I don’t understand how she could leave you when you were not well.”

But I did know. I had left Grant, but it wasn’t because I didn’t love him. I loved him more than anything—even more than my own brother, though I’d never admitted that to anyone. But seeing Grant laid up in a hospital bed, a deep scar under his neck, his chiseled face bandaged, I couldn’t…I wouldn’t go through that agony again. I’d watched my parents cling to this earth hooked to respirators, and I’d had to help make the agonizing decision to turn off their life support. When Joaquín called and told me Grant had been trapped in a vehicle that had been destroyed by a roadside bomb, I knew I couldn’t go through the pain of losing someone I loved so deeply again. I was too young, too fragile after losing my parents, too scared to trust again. So I’d walked away from him, from us, and had regretted it ever since.

And that wasn’t the only reason. Something had happened to me while Grant was deployed. I’d done something stupid and paid the consequences. My shame for my lack of judgment bore at me, and I didn’t want to explain myself to Grant. So I took the easy way out and ran, like a coward.

He lifted my chin with his hand. “Look, I’m sorry. You’re different than the other strippers I’ve met, and I thought you were into me. One of my buddies is having a rager tomorrow at this townhouse he’s housesitting in Pacific Beach. Would you like to come with me?”

Hooyah! There it was. The golden ticket. The invite I’d been waiting for. This was actually working. Old Grant never invited me to the beach parties—I’d been relegated to family days with four-year-olds running around with melting Popsicle sticks. I remembered the rules—no wives, no girlfriends. Men only. But I wasn’t dense—I knew their bashes had no shortage of willing women thrilled to be in the presence of sexy SEALs. These women were peripheral ghosts to every SEAL wife and girlfriend.

I knew I was in.

“I would love to go to beach.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, nuzzled his ear. He attempted to kiss me, but I turned away. The sharp stubble from his beard grazed my cheek. I wanted him to pin me down and ravage me, but it was completely out of the question.

“I’ll pick you up at the club at seven. Feel free to invite any of your hotty friends.”

You got it, buddy!

I clenched my hands to contain my joy, fearful that Grant would somehow realize my true intentions. “Oh, I will. They will love to come. I not want you to think I go home with all man I meet at strip club. You are first, I promise this to you.”

He leaned into me and made firm eye contact. “I believe you.”

I already knew Grant would never forgive me for deserting him when he was injured. But once he found out I’d completely deceived him, I would be dead to him forever. There would be no coming back from this second betrayal—ever.

As a SEAL, he had to trust his partner implicitly, know she would be faithful during his never-ending deployments, confident she would be by his side and support him when he was silently suffering from witnessing the horrors of war. We could never be together again. If anything, being with him tonight confirmed that belief.

It’s okay, Mia. This is about Joaquín. Freeing Joaquín. Your sacrifice for him.

I’d made my choice. I chose exonerating Joaquín over getting Grant to trust me. And as long as I could free Joaquín, I vowed never to regret my path.