Liz was living in paradise in this spacious, day-lit mansion, but besides the incredible time she’d had with Sutton this morning, the day passed very slowly. She finished swimming her laps after he left, dreaming of how it had felt to be held close to his magnificent chest. He’d been so playful with her, and it brought her back to their youth. He’d come beautifully close to kissing her again. She ached to feel his mouth on hers. Dare she hope he was realizing they had to seize the moments? Being around him, his confidence and sheer power, she could see that if anyone could best James it would be Sutton. Yet she wanted more time with him like this morning. Time where it seemed like James could never intrude and sever their connection.

Sutton had hardly left his office since this morning. Agatha grumbled as she took a lovely grilled chicken, shrimp, and veggie dinner upstairs to him. Liz wanted to insist she take it, but she didn’t feel right about intruding on his security world. Agatha claimed she was Alfred, so she must be allowed into the inner circle.

Liz went to her bedroom early and tried to read some of the magazines Agatha had included in her suitcases. The sweet woman had thought of everything, but of course, she’d assumed Liz would love fashion and celebrity magazines. Liz actually preferred Kiplinger’s and Forbes. James had been upset whenever he caught her reading up on investments and the market, so she’d been careful about it, but her mind seemed to work in numbers, and she dreamed one day of being able to manage her own fortune, and use it to help others, especially women who felt imprisoned or trapped by their situation or lack of opportunities. Maybe if Sutton really could triumph over James she would have that freedom.

Forcing herself to lie down, she closed her eyes. When she could stand that no longer, she stared at the ceiling fan for who knew how long. Finally, she gave up on sleep. Walking out on the second-story balcony that ran the length of the rear of the house, she looked out over the pool, lit up below, and to the ocean beyond the rain forest. It glistened with its gentle waves illuminated by a half-moon. It was such a lovely spot.

She walked along the balcony, passing other guest suites as she went. All windows were dark except for one at the end. She didn’t want to walk right up and intrude on someone’s privacy, but then she heard the low tones of Sutton’s smooth-timbered voice. The man should’ve been born as royalty. He had the voice and bearing of a king.

Stopping outside of the light, she simply listened to his voice, not really registering the words but letting the melodious tones wash over her. She simply wanted to be close to him, and if this was as close as she could get, she would take it. Why hadn’t he sought her out again today? Was he too busy planning his revenge, his mission, or did he not want to be with her? He claimed she consumed him. Was that really a bad thing?

A hand wrapped around her mouth, and she was suddenly surrounded by burly arms. Liz screamed out but was silenced by the pressure of that hand. Both of her arms were pinned to her sides by the man’s other hand wrapped firmly around her.

She was lifted right off her feet. Kicking back at the man seemed to do nothing. Her heart beat high in her throat, and she prayed desperately for help. The man had a woodsy, masculine scent, but all she could tell besides that was he was very strong. He said nothing, and that was as terrifying as being completely under his control.

Who had invaded their sanctuary? What would he do to her? Sutton was so close, yet he might as well have been on the other side of the Atlantic. The man had made no noise before he grabbed her, and now, she was at his complete mercy.

It was James all over again. He would squeeze until she cracked. It would be weeks until she could breathe without excruciating pain.

Liz was done being a guppy, done submitting without a fight. She slammed her head back into his face. Pain exploded through the back of her head and the man grunted, so at least she’d done some kind of damage. She tried stomping his feet, but her own were too high off the ground. She couldn’t even kick him in the groin with her heel because he held her halfway twisted around his side. She still kicked back at him but it seemed to do little. Her arms were pinned but her fingernails were long and sharp. She clamped onto the outside of his thigh and dug. He twisted her quickly and broke her grip. All the fight in her wasn’t enough.

Instead of carrying her away from Sutton, he hauled her straight into the light spilling from Sutton’s room, still holding her off the ground like a small child.

“Sir,” the man said.

Sutton spun around, a phone to his ear. His eyes widened, and he said quickly, “Heart of a warrior” before dropping the phone on a side table. “What are you doing?” He demanded, advancing on Liz and the man.

“She was listening outside your room.” Now that she’d heard the voice, she thought maybe it was Blayze.

Anger leapt from Sutton’s gaze. Liz shrank back into her captor. Sutton was furious at her. She hadn’t been trying to listen to anything, simply wanting to be near him, to hear his voice.

Sutton stormed across the room and glared over her head at the man. “Release her.”

The man obeyed immediately. Liz stumbled forward, and Sutton steadied her with a hand on her elbow. How she wished he’d wrap his arm around her, but the way he was acting right now made it clear that wasn’t going to happen.

“Leave us.” His voice was so cold, so hard.

Pinpricks of terror rushed up and down Liz’s arms and legs. She knew from Sutton’s brilliant rise in the Royal Navy, as well as the men that surrounded him and the power he exuded, that he could be ruthless. She’d never imagined his anger would be aimed at her. She knew he was a man of honor and wouldn’t hurt her physically, but the force of his anger in her direction would be more devastating emotionally than anything James could do to her.

The man strode to the open patio doors favoring the leg where Liz had gouged him. “Blayze.” Sutton’s voice halted him. Blayze turned, and the scar on his forehead was more pronounced than ever as he focused on Sutton. She’d noticed that Blayze had a calming quality about him, but he wasn’t calm right now.

Sutton studied him for half a beat before saying, “Zane is wrong this time.”

Blayze didn’t say anything. Finally, he nodded and walked out onto the patio, disappearing.

Sutton walked to the French doors and closed them. The warm ocean breeze disappeared, and the room felt stifling to her almost immediately though Liz suspected that had nothing to do with air flow. The entire mansion was the perfect temperature at all times.

He turned back to focus on her. A muscle was working in his jaw.

Liz held up a hand. “I have no clue what just happened.” She shook her head and touched her jaw where Blayze had held her a little too firmly. “I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop on some clandestine conversation.”

Sutton pulled in a breath then pushed it out before saying, “Please sit down.”

Liz shook her head. “I don’t really feel like sitting down right now.” She wrapped her arms around her ribs, still surprised they hadn’t been cracked. It seemed no matter how much calcium she consumed or exercise she performed, her bones were partial to snapping after being damaged so many times. “Your man just grabbed me like I was some criminal, and then you’re talking in code. I thought he was … Never mind that. What is going on, Sutton?” She gave herself full points for bravery, especially with Sutton’s demeanor at the moment and the terrifying strength in his chest and arms.

He stood there. His eyes were calculating, not full of any of the warmth she often glimpsed when he looked at her. “Liz, you have to understand we question everything and everyone, especially without having any answers in regard to the bombing.”

She swallowed hard and chills ran up and down her spine as his implication sunk in. “You think I …” She couldn’t even say it. How could Sutton think that? True, they hadn’t seen each other for twenty-five years, but he knew her. He knew her deep down.

“No, I don’t.” Sutton closed his eyes and angled slightly away. “My men do.”

Liz’s hands trembled. She clenched them together in front of her. Then the horror of it washed over her, and she brought her fist to her mouth and pushed it against her teeth. His men thought she was the traitor. That she planted that bomb and wanted them all dead. Pulling her hand away, one tortured word escaped. “Why?”

Sutton glanced at her then he moved so quickly her brain hardly had time to register that he was in action before he was standing before her and grasping her shoulders with his hands. It was a firm hold but not painful like James’ would’ve been.

“It’s their job to question everything and everyone. Don’t take it personally.”

“Don’t take it personally? Your men think I would murder them … Agatha … you?” The last word came out as an anguished wail. “And I’m not supposed to take it personally?” She pulled from his grasp and backed away a few steps. She needed distance from his touch, his smell, the way he looked at her like maybe he had to question everyone, including her.

His eyes softened. The chilly blue turning into warm Caribbean ocean. “Ah, Liz,” he moaned. He opened his arms.

Liz wanted to stay away, show him how upset and offended she was by his and his men’s insinuations, but she was too weak. She went to him. He pulled her in close, cradled her against his chest. She lay her head close to his heart and found comfort in the steady rhythm. Sutton rested his head on hers, the warm exhalations brushing her forehead. His wonderful musk and sandalwood scent wrapped around her as surely as his arms.

They stayed close, neither saying anything for several wonderful minutes. Then Sutton pulled back slightly and met her gaze. “Maybe Zane is right.”

“What?” She yanked herself from his arms.

Sutton’s eyes turned sad. He brushed his fingers down her cheek. “Not about the bombing, but about you. I’m too emotionally invested in you. You have always been my only weakness.”

Liz’s lips pressed together. “So even if I’m innocent of the bombing, I’m some … vixen who distracts you and makes you weak?” Him saying she consumed him wasn’t romantic like she’d assumed earlier, it meant she took him away from what was most important to him—the mission.

Sutton didn’t say anything. He finally shrugged his broad shoulders in what she assumed was agreement.

Liz let out a garbled scream of frustration, stepped in close and punched him in the gut. Sutton straightened in surprise, but it didn’t look like the punch had hurt him at all. Her hand throbbed from the impact with his solid abdomen. She clutched her fingers with her other hand. “I love you,” she murmured. She loved him in so many ways, especially because no matter how strong and powerful he was, she knew he would never hurt her physically. She looked him over and wanted to melt into his arms. Taking a step back she said, “But I won’t be your weakness.”

She whirled from him and strode to the doors leading into the interior hallway, not wanting to run into Blayze on the exterior patio again. Unfortunately, it was a really long walk as Sutton’s eyes bore into her back. Finally, she reached the double doors of his suite, opened one, stormed through, and slammed it behind her.

The accusation that she had set that bomb had hurt deeply. Her hand hurt almost as badly from the barmy punch she’d thrown. But neither of those aches could touch the pain of hearing that instead of being Sutton’s strength or his inspiration, she was his weakness. So much for Sutton being the love of her life. Obviously, her dream of making a positive impact on the world was barmy as well. Her shoulders slumped as she trod down the hallway to her room.