Back at the compound, she found out that Hollywood was in bad shape. He took a bullet graze to the temple, and he was on his way to San Diego to the Navy Medical Center at Coronado for better medical care. Kat stood in the briefing room as Ruckus reamed her out, then complimented her. She flushed and took the ribbing from the guys.

Michael was quiet and subdued as she told him about the CIA leak and someone had gotten Borkov out of prison. He told her he would talk to the higher ups. It was time to get someone on this investigation immediately.

Later, she and Wicked went to her room, and when the door closed behind them, they were pulling at each other’s clothes to get naked enough to get intimate. Wicked backed her up against the wall, their groans mingling in soft grunts and groans as he entered her, thrusting into her as hard as she wanted, needed. The adrenaline was running hot between them as they fed on that energy, the feeling of being alive like a drug.

Panting, they slid down the wall into a heap, holding onto each other as if they wouldn’t ever let go.

“So, how do you want to break this to your family?”

“Hard and fast,” he said, his face buried in her neck. “Susan is going to react the worst, I think.” He nuzzled her, kissing her throat, breathing her in.

She nodded. “I will forever regret that he died with me handling the mission.” Her voice had dropped to a whisper.

“Kat, there is something I’ve been keeping from you, and I don’t want any more damn secrets between us. I’m worried that you’re going to blame yourself, lose yourself.”

Her gut clenched. “I’m ready to face the past, Rion. Tell me.”

“Your coordinates were off. We were right in the blast radius. Instead of hitting the enemy—”

“What? Oh, God. No, that can’t be right. I got the coordinates from…Michael.” She stiffened and pulled out of Wicked’s grasp and adjusted her clothes. She ran her hands through her hair. “Are you saying I made the call that killed your brother.”

“I heard the jets overhead. They were too close. The blast caught Phoenix. I was farther away and didn’t take the full force. He died instantly, and there was nothing I could do.”

“Friendly fire…that’s what she meant,” she murmured. She pulled open the door. “Wicked, get Ruckus and the team and meet me in TOC. I think I know who has been selling us out.”

He stood and pulled up his pants, zipping and buttoning. “Don’t you want me to go with you?”

“No, I can handle, this.” She reached for her weapon and tucked it in the waistband of her pants. This was between her and Michael.

He nodded. “If you’re sure.”

Her voice hard, she said, “Very.”

She crossed the compound with long strides. Her anger at the slimy weasel in their midst was off the charts. She walked into TOC and straight to Michael’s office. She opened his door without knocking and closed it hard behind her.

She pulled her weapon and pointed it directly at him. “Why, Michael? How could you do this?” His hand jerked toward his drawer, but she narrowed her eyes and said softly, “Do it and I’ll blow your fucking head off.” He drew his hand back and sighed. “Why!” she shouted.

His face flushed with anger. “I’m planning on running for Congress. I couldn’t have that failed debacle come back to haunt me. Amanda and Jason had to go. I let you live because I thought you and I—but now I know you’re fucking Cross. It’s always been Cross. That’s why I wanted them both eliminated.”

“Because you wanted me? Oh, my God! You selfish prick.”

“I saw the way you looked at him. That sap you were engaged to had to have known it, too, with the way you made cow eyes at his brother. It was pathetic.”

The thought that Phoenix had guessed how she felt about Rion made her stomach churn. Had he known? This was worse than any revelation about Michael’s duplicity.

“I tried running him over in San Diego after Kumma. You two getting together and comparing notes, it was inevitable that you would put two and two together.”

“It was you who released Borkov, you who got me ambushed, you who killed Jason, Amanda, and Borkov. My father trusted you, trained you… My dad…what happened to him?”

Michael shook his head. “Your dad had to play by the rules. One time I wanted him to break them, and he refused to back me up. It was so much money. We could have split it and we would have been set for life. I couldn’t have him ruin everything.”

Horrified, she stared at him, her finger inching toward the trigger. “You killed my father! Where is he?” she shouted as she took two steps toward the desk. “You owe me that!”

“I owe you nothing.”

He threw a paperweight at her, and the gun went off, but too high. He jumped the desk and knocked into her. She landed flat on her back on the floor, stunned for a moment. He reached for her gun, but she kneed him in the ribs and he doubled over, rolling off her.

He scrambled across the floor and got his hand on the grip. He brought the gun around, and there was nothing she could do.

But just then the door burst open and shots rang out. Michael dropped the gun, clutching his chest. “No,” she shouted, seeing her only chance to find her father’s remains slipping away.

Wicked and the team filed in, Kid kicking the gun away. Wicked reached down to help her up. She stared at Michael, blood pooling below his body, soaking into his white shirt as he took two heavy breaths. He exhaled his last breath as his eyes stared up at the ceiling fixed and empty.

She stood there, numb and aching. Everything about her father’s disappearance hit her again with the force of an explosion.

Michael had murdered him for money. She closed her eyes, and, with a soft sigh, she turned into Wicked’s arms.

Later on, in her room, they lay together, exhausted both physically and mentally. All that had happened washed over her in a horrible, nightmarish stream.

“I kept quiet to spare you the pain. I had no idea Brandon murdered Phoenix.” Wicked murmured. “He used you. He’s been manipulating us this whole time. You couldn’t have known.”

She nodded. “I just want to find my father,” she murmured. “I just need time to absorb all this.”

The next day, she was summoned to TOC by the director. Walking across the compound, she could see that the SEALs were preparing to head back home. Kat caught sight of Wicked. He stopped what he was doing and watched her walk past him, his hands on his hips. God, she was in love with that man.

Inside TOC, the director came onto the screen. “Ms. Harrington.”

“Sir,” she said.

“This is some nasty business with Brandon. It doesn’t leave that compound. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

He cleared his throat. “You look like hell. Take some time when you get back to the States. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ms. Harrington. I have had my eye on you for some time.” That jarred her down to her boots. “You are resourceful, skilled, smart as hell, and don’t hesitate to take the initiative. The Chief of Station position is now open with Brandon gone. I’m offering it to you.”

“Chief of Station,” she murmured. “Seriously, sir?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding? When you’ve had a sufficient break, you come see me, and we’ll get it all sorted out. I’ll retire knowing that San Diego, and the world, for that matter, is in good, solid hands.”

She took a breath and nodded. “I will. Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t thank me. It’s a damn thankless job, but I can’t think of anyone more qualified to take the position.”

“Sir, if I may?”

“Yes?”

“Michael confessed to murdering my father. Could I see the full, unredacted file? I’m searching for his remains. I need to bring him home.”

“You have my clearance, but Ms. Harrington, if there was anything in that file that would have given us a clue where to look, we would have made an exhaustive search. I’m sorry.”

She nodded. She still had to try. Maybe she would see something no one else had. “Thank you, Director.”

The screen went dark, and there was nothing else to do but get her gear out of her room to be loaded in the SUVs, then on the C-130 to head home. She made a point to ride in the last vehicle with the SEAL’s operations specialist. She needed the time to think. Once they pulled onto the airstrip, Kat exited the SUV and climbed aboard the plane.

She sat down in one of the webbed seats and leaned her head back. She hadn’t slept much in the two days since Michael died. Her thoughts were on her father, and the fact that she would never see him again. She closed her eyes, tears leaking out from beneath her lashes.

A warm hand covered hers, and her eyes popped open. Expecting it to be Wicked, she was startled to find Ruckus. “I know what you’re going through, Kat. Be confident that you will be able to find your father’s remains. None of this is on you. Not a thing. Brandon was a traitorous, greedy son of a bitch, and he got what he deserved for betraying his country and putting us, this mission, and the world in peril. Are you really going to let that bastard win? Dictate from the grave the rest of your life? You don’t deserve that.” He looked pointedly over at Wicked. “He doesn’t deserve that.” He rose.

“I’m not mad at Wicked.”

“Then what are you waiting for? Life is way too short not to lock that shit down.”

It was the kindness that did it—that genuine compassion and understanding that came from deep within this man, this amazing leader. And without warning, Kat’s unhappiness blindsided her, and she had to look away.

His hand brushed over hers. As if realizing Kat couldn’t handle any show of sympathy, Ruckus said, his tone more businesslike, “Tell him what’s in your heart. That’s all that matters here, Kat. We endure and move on. We accept the bad with the good. We do the jobs that need to be done. Everything else is gravy.”

He walked away, and she closed her eyes against all the pain and let go. She got up and went to sit next to Wicked. They were going to be all right.

Hours later, the plane landed, and Kat had come to her own conclusion. She’d only just found him, and in the process, she had found herself. She couldn’t give that up for anything—not combat and not her foolishness in failing to realize her own flaws, her own weaknesses because she’d been forever trying to live up to her father’s legendary status. No one was perfect, least of all her wonderful father. She’d been blinded by the need to follow through just like her father had taught her. But her validation didn’t come from that. It came from the fight every day, knowing she was worthy of love and forgiveness, worthy to accept the love Orion “Wicked” Cross had for her. It was everything.

There was a feeling that had been with her so long as if she’d missed out on something—had lost something rare and special, something that was not hers to lose. Now, in the light of dawn, she faced what she had kept deeply buried, the thing she thought she had missed out on—being Wicked’s woman.

Orion Cross was always meant for her.

Another feeling hit her—a kind of wild, crazy disregard.

She needed the peace Wicked offered her, the forgiveness and the letting go of the past that would set her free. She needed him, and nothing that she’d done had caused Phoenix’s death. That had all been Michael. He gave her the wrong coordinates. He’d tried to kill them both. There was no shame or guilt she needed to carry anymore because of his selfish actions. Michael was gone. The past was over, and there was nothing but the future ahead of them.

The sound of joy drew her out of the plane and down the ramp. Kat stood there smiling.

Ruckus ran to his wife Dana, and she caught him against her. He buried his hand in her hair and kissed her. When they parted, she smiled up into his face. “Welcome home, my warrior.”

Kid was holding his pretty dark-haired wife, Paige. A tall, rough-looking blond man stood next to them. That had to be her brother…Atticus, or Hemingway, as Kid had dubbed him. Another SEAL in the making.

Cowboy had his arm around his bride-to-be, Kia Silverbrook. Her black nail polish was dark against the white of her blouse, and her long, inky hair was pulled back, showing the delicate features of her face and her intense love for her man.

Tank greeted his pretty fiancée, Alyssa, and his former MWD, Echo, as Bronte danced around them, her tail going a mile a minute. He bent down and picked up the fully recovered Malinois as if he weighed nothing. Alyssa threw her head back and laughed as he kissed the dog, complaining that she wanted some love, too.

Blue was kissing his fiancée, Charlie, and satisfaction washed through her knowing the two of them wouldn’t have to look over their shoulders. Their wedding was coming up soon in Hawaii.

Then there was her precious friend, Yana, who had changed drastically from a cold-eyed operative to this soft woman who welcomed her Southern hottie home. She waved to Kat, who waved back.

Dragon and Joe walked together toward their cars, the gorgeous Asian-American devil laughing at something Dozer had said. No doubt Dozer was heading to Coronado to see Hollywood.

It was a shame he couldn’t be here.

“What the hell is next, Kat?” There was a very tense stillness, an edge to Wicked’s voice.

She turned to face him as everyone in the vicinity stopped talking, stopped kissing, stopped moving.

“You’re not leaving this team, and that’s final.”

His jaw flexed. “Is that so?” He stalked down the ramp until he reached her.

Trapped by the intensity of that gaze, Kat stared at him, all her feelings for him swelling up inside her. How could she have ever thought this wouldn’t work out? This was her man, her warrior, her grumpy knight in shining armor. She loved him. He was everything to her—and everything she wanted. She had to swallow before she could get the words out. “Yes, you won’t have to. I just got offered chief of station.”

His brows rose, his glinting eyes warming until they were a breathtaking amber. “Michael’s old job.”

“Yes. They said I demonstrated commendable ingenuity, calm, and intelligence under pressure, unmasked a CIA mole who was working against us with the enemy for his own selfish gains, a murderer. I was instrumental in rescuing valuable assets we can cultivate and saved the life of two Navy SEALs. They really liked the last part. I’m exactly the kind of leader they need.”

“All that and you’ll get an anonymous star on the wall.”

“Yeah, and I’m proud of that.”

She was nearly yanked off her feet. One minute she was standing there alone, the next she was hauled into his arms, his unchecked strength nearly crushing her. Relief ripping through her, she got her arms free, then locked them around his neck, a gasp of joy breaking loose. And that unbearable lightness burst inside her, and she knew, knew they had found their way.

“You’re the woman I need,” he said. He tightened his hold and roughly turned his face against her neck, his chest heaving, his voice cracking and nearly inaudible. “Kat, my Kat.”

Locking her jaw to stop the thick ache in her throat, Kat grasped the back of his head, molding herself against him. She could barely get the words out. “We’re in this together.”

He tightened his embrace, hauling in a deep, ragged breath his face still buried in her neck. “Everything will work out,” he whispered roughly, holding her as if he couldn’t let her go.

Tears burned her eyes, and Kat laughed softly, happiness streaking through her. “You can’t lose me,” she whispered unevenly, holding him with every ounce of love she had in her. “I love you, Orion ‘Wicked’ Cross. This is where I belong.”

She could feel him struggling, and it broke her heart. But it also lifted her up with a pure, effervescing joy. Because he was holding her as if his life depended on it. And with such love—with such binding, unrelenting love.

Wicked hauled in another deep, uneven breath, then flattened his hand on her back. “I love you, Kat.”

Tears slid free, and Kat twisted her head, pressing her mouth against his jaw, her love for him overflowing. He had finally said all she needed to hear. Then he whispered, “You’re my pig in a poke.”

She looked around her and there wasn’t a dry eye on the tarmac as the men shuffled their feet.

All except Scarecrow, who was bent over with laughter, and Kat frowned at him, then met Wicked’s eyes. “Okay, I’m sure that’s some kind of Southernism you’re going to explain to me. Because I’m not sure I like being referred to as a pig.”

Scarecrow laughed harder. “Sooey,” he choked out, and Wicked laughed.

Yana gave him a narrow look, hitting him in the ribs. “This was a damn romantic moment,” she hissed, but he couldn’t contain himself.

“Let’s get out of here,” Wicked said.

Early morning light filtered in the wide windows of Wicked’s bedroom, contentment washed through her as much as the sight of him every morning filled her up.

Kat lay on her stomach in the wide bed, the white sheet twisted around her, her head resting on her folded arms. Just barely awake and still fuzzy from sleep and a night of very good loving, she watched Wicked shaving at the sink in the bathroom.

His hair was still damp, his torso bare, and he looked absolutely wonderful. Watching him slide the razor over his face through the white foam, she smiled sleepily.

It had been quite a night, and she was certain she hadn’t had more than an hour’s sleep. She had lost count of how many times they made love, but every time was a confirmation of the start of a whole new life. And Wicked held nothing back.

He finished shaving, rinsing the razor under the faucet, then pulled the towel free to dry his face.

He turned and saw her watching him, and a slow smile appeared, lighting up his eyes. Tossing the towel on the sink, he came over to the bed, his bare feet silent on the hardwood floor. He bent over and gave her a long, soft kiss, bracing one hand beside her head. Rolling over on her back, Kat wound her arms around his neck.

“Hey,” she said softly when they parted.

“Hey back,” he said, slipping his hand over her shoulder and running it down her body. “How about some exercise?”

She raised her brows.

He laughed. “Not that kind of exercise.”

“Oh,” she said, with a little pout. “What did you have in mind?”

“Let me show you.”

Wicked watched Kat pull slightly ahead of him in her rented shell. Damn, if she wasn’t a natural. He leaned into the oars and caught up with her, just edging her out at their agreed upon finish line.

“Are you sure you’re not snowing me, woman?”

“No, I’m not. I’ve never rowed, but I can tell you that this won’t be my last time! I love it.”

He laughed as they leisurely rowed to shore, then he pulled the shells out of the water. He knew what he was getting her for Christmas…maybe sooner.

She helped him return the rental, then they loaded his shell into the back of his truck. She leaned against the tailgate. “What a beautiful day.”

He set his forearms against the top of the tailgate and said, “Come to Blue’s wedding with me.”

“When?” she asked, shifting closer to him, wrapping her arms around his torso and squeezing him. God, he loved when she did that.

“Next week. I know it’s short notice.” He squeezed her back, linking his arms around her.

“I’d love to. Who’s going?”

“Everyone on the team and their significant others. Well, all except Hollywood.”

“How much longer are they keeping him?”

“Just a few more days. Dozer and his family are with him. I hate to leave him, but Blue and Charlie can’t delay. We never know when we’re going to be deployed.”

“I’m sure he’ll be sorry he missed it.”

He nodded. “I thought we could talk to my family before we go. Are you okay with that?”

“Yes,” she said, holding him tighter. “I’m ready to face them.”

“It’ll all be okay, Kat,” Wicked said.

“I know.” She separated from him and walked around the truck, slipping into the passenger seat. He got in and started the truck. “I got my dad’s full file. There’s a lot of information in there. I thought you could help me sift through it.”

“You bet. I’m free now. Let’s take a look at it after we have some lunch.”

“Thank you, Rion,” she murmured, running her hand over his forearm. He didn’t think he’d ever get sick of that.

Back at the apartment, he made his delicious chicken salad and read over the file, then read it again. Looking over at Kat, he rubbed her back, her forlorn look making him even more determined to find Daniel Harrington. He got caught up on one small detail. “Kat?”

“Mm-hmm,” she said her eyes on the file.

“This small church is mentioned two times in your dad’s notes. I’m wondering if that may have been the place where they stashed their cache.”

Her head came up. “You think so?”

“Yeah. Why don’t we go to Tanzania and on the way back, stop in DC so you can meet with the director. Hopefully we’ll have your dad’s remains by then.”

She nodded. They made travel arrangements for the next day, and when they landed in Tanzania, they rented a Range Rover and drove to the site. It was a beautiful spot, the church exactly as Daniel Harrington had noted. Wicked went inside, and the priest greeted him and Kat. They lit a candle for him. When the priest left, Wicked went into the rectory and, sure enough, found a false wall, but the money that had been there so long ago was gone, looted by Michael Brandon.

On a hunch, he went out back. There were crosses in the ground, some headstones, but a lone cross sat right at the base of the mountain. It was crude, just two sticks, really. Wicked walked over to it and looked at Kat. “I think this is it.”

“You think Michael would have taken the time to bury him?”

“Yeah. One, to hide the body, and who would think to look in a graveyard? Another reason is because he, in his own way, loved your dad. He’d take the time to give him a proper burial.” They went back and talked to the priest, who gave them permission to excavate the grave. The remains were flown to the Smithsonian where they had hired an expert to immediately test the bones.

After they had been in Washington for several hours, Kat’s cell phone rang. She answered. “Harrington.”

She listened for several seconds, and then tears welled in her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered. They spent the rest of the day getting her father ready to go into his plot in Arlington Cemetery.

He stood with Kat as her father, Daniel Harrington, was laid to rest. She turned her face to Wicked’s, and he held her while she cried. Later on, they went to the CIA building where she was to meet with the director. As they walked into the lobby, she stopped and ran her hand over one of the stars. She held her palm against it and said, “You’re home, Daddy. I love you.”

That night, they lay in each other’s arms. She turned to face him and cupped his jaw. “I love you, Rion.”

Filled with joy and happiness so pure that it made him feel weightless, he didn’t quite mange to keep it together. But emotions didn’t make him weak, they made him human, they made him the man he was and with Kat he could weather anything. Everything he’d ever wanted was right here next to him. “I love you, Kat.” He pulled her close, his life, his woman. “Marry me,” he said.

He felt her smile against his throat, and the energy of her settled against his heart.

“Yes,” she said, as simple as that.

Love wasn’t so complicated at all when it was as true and real as theirs was.