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“Yes. They think they killed Montana. They’re looking for his body. We left footprints on the sand, so they know we weren’t all on the boat.” Ivan hadn’t seemed certain, but he was sure that had more to do with the boy being bloodthirsty than anything. Anyone with more sense than a teenage boy with a weapon—so, most of the population—would probably take the footprints as a sign that at least one person was still alive.
“Does that help us? Hurt us?” she asked.
“Might give us an advantage if they think it’s just you and me. He’s a surprise.” Vadisk tipped his head toward Montana.
“I’m a surprise and the fucking god of code,” Montana said without looking over.
Vadisk looked at Dahlia. “Nerd?” He wanted to make sure he used the right word.
“Nerd,” she agreed.
“Nerd,” Vadisk called out.
“Husband of a nerd,” Montana shot back.
Vadisk shook his head, sitting beside Dahlia. She put a hand on his thigh, rubbing gently. “We’re safe for now,” she said softly. “Montana has taken over the entire security system and already wiped all the recordings of us.”
“That’s good.”
Her hand lifted to his face, thumb sliding along the tight muscle in his jaw. “What’s wrong? What else happened?”
He faced her, surprised that she knew him this well after so little time together. He hadn’t expected to feel this way. Being assigned spouses had felt a bit like another mission he’d be tasked with. One he would follow through on to the best of his ability, while continuing to serve his territory and Nikolett.
Vadisk hadn’t anticipated the overwhelming affection, the heart-racing desire, the soul-crushing need to keep them safe and with him…always.
Forever had just been another word until he met them. Now, it was as vital to him as the air he breathed.
“What if I can’t protect you?” he asked, showing her something he was careful to always keep locked inside. Vulnerability.
“It’s not your job to protect me.”
“Yes it is, I’m your husband.”
“Exactly. My husband. Not my bodyguard.” She smiled. “I’m not saying you can’t protect me, just that it isn’t yourjob. I know you’ve been your admiral’s bodyguard for a long time, so maybe it’s hard to stop thinking like that.”
Vadisk was surprised by her words. He was about to deny and insist that his job was to protect her, but she put her finger on his lips.
“Your job is to love me,” she said softly. “To love us.”
He considered those feelings he’d just been analyzing.
Affection. Desire. Forever.
Love.
If her words were true, then he was already doing his job.
“Dee, get the door,” Montana said urgently, interrupting them.
Vadisk’s gaze jumped to the cameras even as Dahlia pulled the hidden door all the way closed until there was a faint click.
Two men were mounting the stairs. One was Sinaver. The other was…huge.
Vadisk rose, stepping close to the monitor. The Spaniard was a full head taller than Sinaver, which made him about Vadisk’s height or maybe even taller. He was tall but not gangly, his shoulders wide, his legs thick with muscle inside the black tactical pants he wore. His long-sleeve shirt hugged heavily muscled arms, and black gloves covered his hands.
“Is he wearing a mask?” Dahlia whispered, switching her attention to the screen that showed the hallway.
“Looks like it,” Montana said in the same low voice.
