Alexa and Jake were at the Caltanissetta Xirbi railway station in Sicily. They’d taken a flight from Barcelona to Palermo before boarding the train to reach their final destination.

Cristiano had accompanied them to the private jet hangar before his guards, who carried themselves like military men, or all around bad asses, had flown with them to Italy. The guards had to have been packing, Alexa had decided when she saw the slight bulge beneath their blazers.

But the men were helping her, so she wouldn’t complain. And Cristiano had supplied them with enough euros to last them a month in Vegas. Now that was a trip she could have used right about now.

Jake opened the locker and reached inside. His friend Ben would be in later that night. Getting from Vegas to Italy took time, after all. And, since time wasn’t on their side, Ben had arranged for an old friend in the Air Force, who was stationed at the Sigonella base, to leave a computer at the hotel room they planned to stay in. She hoped Ben had been able to access the case files.

“Okay. We’ve got the hotel key and location. And the safe combination. Now let’s hope a USB with those files we need is in the safe,” Jake said while shutting the gray locker door. “Otherwise, you’ll be breaking a couple of laws by hacking into the NSA—or the CIA.” A brief smile skirted his lips as he pushed his glasses closer to his face. He had borrowed a razor from Cristiano to shave his beard, and his clean-shaven jaw was smooth, his firm lips beautifully prominent. His dimples seemed deeper than she remembered when he smiled. Not that he had smiled much today. Not until now, at least.

“I’m just relieved you have a friend who could pull all of this off for us in such a short period,” she said as they began exiting the station.

“How are you holding up?” Jake asked as they waited at the curb for a taxi, stealing a glimpse of her over his shoulder.

“I’m as good as I can be, but I still think your friend could have stayed in Vegas,” she said.

“I might need back up.”

She scoffed. “You think I would let you go after these guys alone?”

Then again, where would they get a team? And Bekas had God knew how many armed men. Even with Ben at his side, it would be a suicide mission. The thought of Jake dying ripped at her heart.

“I faced these guys before and got away.”

“And got yourself nearly blown up,” she said as Jake opened the door for the taxi when it pulled up in front of them, and he waited for her to slide in before following suit. He read off the address to the driver.

“No English,” the driver responded, so Jake handed over the paper with the hotel address on it, hoping it would make sense to him.

The man had looked back at them in the rearview mirror and nodded, before pulling out onto the street. She braced the seat in front of her with the jerking motion—and she thought drivers in London were bad. Jeez.

Jake’s hand was suddenly resting on her thigh, and her lip caught between her teeth, her heart fluttering like leaves blowing hard in the wind.

“I don’t want anything happening to you,” she whispered at last.

“What? You care about me or something?” he asked.

When she looked up at him, he was watching her, eyes hooded.

“Or something,” she murmured.

* * *

Alexa punched in the combination to the safe.

“Is it in there?” She glanced up at Jake as he came up behind her and withdrew her arm from the safe.

“Yeah.” She clutched the drive to her breast and let out a sigh of relief. “Let’s see what’s on here.”

She started for the living area, where Ben’s friend had left a laptop for them. How much time would they have before Bekas followed through with his plan?

Then she felt the touch of Jake’s hand on her wrist.

“What?” she asked softly, turning to face him.

His body was tense, his arms locked at his sides. “I want to say something before I forget. Before things get intense.” His features softened. “I’m sorry I got upset last night. I was overwhelmed with what happened at the hotel. My memories all crashing back on me like that . . . I was feeling a whole lifetime of hurt.”

She lowered her head, not able to look at this strong, sweet man. A man who could set her body on fire with a simple touch. “No, Jake.” Her gaze traveled over his V-neck sweater now that he’d removed the blazer, admiring the tightness of his muscles beneath the fabric. “So much of what you said is true, and I hope that, after this . . .” If we survive. “I hope that we have a chance to figure out what this thing is between us.”

Of course, she already knew what she felt.

Still holding her wrist, Jake gently tugged her toward him until her body pressed up against his chest. He tipped her chin up and sealed his lips over hers. Heat and desire threaded through every fabric of her being. It pulsed heavy and thick in her veins. With that kiss, she felt him inside of her, in her soul.

A moment later he stepped back. She didn’t want to ever stop, but she was standing in Italy trying to thwart a terrorist attack—this wasn’t some fairy tale. “What was that for?” she asked once she caught her breath. “For luck?” She smiled.

He wrapped a hand around her waist, keeping her close to him. Where else would she go? She was his. She had known it a year ago, even though she had pushed him away.

“Luck?” He squinted a little and his mouth curved up. “I don’t need luck. I’ve got this.”

“Oh, yeah?” His sexy confidence was nearly electric, and a little contagious.

She knew now, for sure, that Jake Summers was back.

“Yeah.” He brushed the back of his hand down her cheek. “Because I have you.”

Her heart almost leaped out of her chest at his words. In the faint lines around his dark brown eyes, forgiveness was etched. She realized that he accepted her for who she was—even for her mistakes. And that was rare.

His eyes smoldered as a look of passion—or maybe love?—spread across his face. Was it . . . love? God, this is crazy.

“Let’s do this, Alexa.” His fingers slipped to twine with hers. “You ready?”

Am I? She tightened her grip around the USB in her other hand. “After we take down these bastards, how about you and I have a drink?”

He shot her a full smile.

“On a beach. With a little umbrella in the drink.” She pressed a quick kiss to his lips, and then backed away, trying her best to get back into the right mindset. It was time to take down @Anarchy.

She sat in front of the computer and plugged in the device. “It will take a few minutes for me to decrypt the files,” she said. “Is there coffee in here?”

“Coffee?” Jake asked. “Not tea?”

“Guess you’re rubbing off on me.” She glanced back at him. “By all means, please sweeten it up.” She still couldn’t believe that it had only been a few days since she’d arrived at the cabin in Montana.

But maybe it would all be over soon. If Bekas was off the grid and his men had Xander, the countdown had already begun.

Xander . . . A stab of guilt spiraled through her. While she was joking around with Jake and kissing him, Xander was being held captive. Worse, he might be dead. Her body stilled, and she lifted her fingers from the keyboard. Her stomach grew nauseous, and she felt like she was on an out of control Ferris wheel, spinning round and round so fast she’d get chucked off.

He’s okay. He has to be. She drew up the image of her best friend in her mind. Funny and caring Xander. She wanted him to walk her down the aisle if she ever got married.

Marriage? Me? She stole another quick look at Jake as he worked at the coffee machine in the room. His back was to her, and she remembered the scars beneath the shirt. And it reminded her of exactly how dangerous @Anarchy was, which meant Xander was close to death. And she and Jake might be the only ones standing between whether he lived or died.

Her fingers trembled as they touched the keys again, and she forced herself to take in a few deep breaths. She had to get back in the zone if she’d get to Xander in time.

After ten minutes and a couple of sips of coffee later, Jake was standing next to her, his glasses on, his arms crossed. He leaned forward to get a better look at the screen as she studied the files she decrypted that the NSA had collected on @Anarchy. Maybe they had information that MI6 didn’t.

“What can I do?”

“Nothing right now. I’ve just got to look at this case from a different angle. There has to be something in here. Something I’ve missed.” She switched over to the information on the drone strike that killed Bekas’s wife and daughters. The evidence and documents were similar to those that MI6 had, but here she found that the key players involved on the American side were listed.

“Shit!” She frantically tapped at the keys. She pointed to a picture of a man in a naval uniform. He was tall and perhaps in his mid-thirties, with short blonde hair and a square jaw. “I know this guy. What was his name . . .?”

“What?”

Alexa switched back over to the @Anarchy files again. “It’s got to be in here,” she said as she scrolled through the folders. “Here.” She clicked open the file labeled, “Vegas March 2016.” “Remember when I told you that Anarchy had managed to kill people in Vegas all the way from Istanbul?”

“Yeah. How?”

She shook her head. “Don’t worry about that for now. But look at who died in the explosion.”

“Don Turner. Vanessa Shane. Brett Reeds. Sylvia Herald. Spike Anderson,” Jake read down the list.

“Spike.” She flipped back to the screen of the man in uniform. “He was one of the drone pilots that killed Bekas’s family.”

“And then he died six months ago in an explosion that was connected to Anarchy?”

“Looks that way. That can’t be a coincidence, right?” Her body was thrumming to life as her brain worked faster than her fingers could move. “I didn’t know the names of the Americans involved in the drone strike—not until now. But what if—”

“Anarchy has been systematically targeting those responsible,” Jake finished. He cupped a hand over his mouth.

“It’s possible. Maybe not every hit targeted someone on the drone strike because it would have been obvious, but if he buried his true agenda in the midst of other random strikes . . .”

It was all making sense to her now. For Kemal Bekas, this had always been about revenge. He wanted every person who had been involved in the death of his family to suffer. So, he had used his brilliant computer skills to orchestrate the movements of a cyber-terrorist group, using the group as an elaborate cover for his fiendish retribution.

“If this is right, we need to see how many of the people on that list are still alive.” He raked a hand through his hair.

She would need to call MI6 after they confirmed their theory. They would need all the help they could get to stop the attack and rescue Xander.

“Where was the last attack?” Jake dragged a chair next to hers, offering another set of eyes on the case.

“India. A British bank.” She pulled up the list of deaths and shook her head. “Nope.”

“Before that?”

Alexa pulled up the next case, and they cross-referenced the deaths with the drone strike team members. “The pilot stationed in Afghanistan . . .” A lump formed in her throat as she processed Bekas’s killing spree.

After an hour of scouring every file, they found five more people who had died from the drone strike team. And those were just the attacks that Intelligence had been able to connect to @Anarchy.

“This bastard killed over seventy people just to cover his tracks.” Jake was on his feet, his face pulled together in anger. The vein in his neck was pulsing.

Once Alexa finished the records of known attacks, she started to search obituaries in both Britain and the U.S. for the remaining names on the list. She couldn’t sign into MI6 for additional assistance. Fortunately, the men she searched for weren’t undercover operatives. They were military and government employees. People who had Facebook pages and public lives.

Jake slammed a hand against the desk. “Jesus. Only one person is still alive. Goddamn.”

“One person,” she repeated in shock. A breath of air rushed from her lips. “And not just anyone. The General of CENTCOM.” She curled her hands into fists in her lap and pushed back from the desk. “Bekas wants to destroy Parliament for revenge—that’s an obvious target. But would killing an American general be enough for him?” The murder of anyone was horrific, but she’d expect Bekas to crave a bigger finale, to go out with a bang that would echo through the ages.

“I don’t know, but this man is the former General of CENTCOM. He retired.” Jake pointed at the image of the man in uniform on the screen. He had strong shoulders, a fit body, and silvery gray hair parted to the side, with a large nose and light green eyes. “He’s a friend of my family’s—I was at his retirement dinner two months ago.”

“Shit. He’s probably not part of the plan. I mean,” she stood, “they’ll try and kill him, so we need to alert your government. But that doesn’t help us figure out Bekas’s big target.”

Jake shook his head and moved to the side table and lifted the phone from the receiver. “We need to let everyone know what’s going on.” He held the phone in the air in her direction. “Go ahead. I’ll make the next call.”

She came in front of him and took the phone, wrapping the cord around her finger as she punched in the number, her heart like a storm in her chest, furious, the blood pumping so hard she could hardly even see.

When the call was picked up, she sputtered out her code: “Zero nine five three two eleven.”

“Access denied.”

The call ended.

She scrunched her brow and quickly jabbed at the numbers to ring the agency again.

Jake was studying her, worry flickering across his face.

“Zero nine five three two eleven,” she said in a rush.

“Access denied.”

Her skin flushed as she slammed the phone down and gritted her teeth. “I’ve been cut out.” She didn’t know if MI6 was doing this to protect her, not to mention the intel. Or if it was because she had been fired for not following orders. Either way, it wasn’t good.

“I guess I’ll have to call someone else.” Her mind spun as she tried to determine the best alternate course for communication. She had to alert them in one way or another, but she had wanted it to be secure. She had wanted to speak with Laney . . .

“It’s going to be okay.” He pressed his hands to her shoulders and slid them up her neck before cupping her face in his hands. “I promise, Alexa. Everything is going to work out.”