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Her expression softens the slightest bit, and her lips twitch. “You didn’t think that two armed agents were capable of protecting me without your help?”
I run a hand over my hair as I meet her gaze. “When you say it like that, it sounds foolish. But I was acting on instinct. And I …” I pause, clearing my throat. “I guess I just didn’t want you to leave. Especially not if you’re in some kind of trouble. And for the record, you don’t need to worry about your sisters. They know where you are. They were there.”
Sadie’s eyes narrow. “And they didn’t say anything about you not being my boyfriend?”
Whoops. Sorry, ladies. I accidentally just threw you under the Sadie bus.
“They probably just felt relieved that someone they could vouch for personally would be with you.”
Sadie drops onto one of the barstools that line the prep counter in the middle of the galley, then lowers her head onto her hands. She has to be feeling so incredibly overwhelmed. I resist the urge to rub the back of her neck, massaging her the way I did so often over the last two days. She wouldn’t let me now—I know this without even trying my luck.
Instead of touching her, I take a seat across the counter, absently shuffling the deck of cards.
“I am sorry about your phone, Sadie.”
“And about the kidnapping?” she asks, arching a brow.
“That, too.”
Sort of.I feel more than a little guilty over how much I loved having Sadie all to myself for a while.
“And telling everyone I’m your girlfriend?”
I don’t answer right away. Because I’m just not sorry, and I don’t want to lie. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. “Can I plead the fifth?”
Sadie laughs, and the sound makes me feel buoyant. “No. We are not in a court of law.”
“Or maybe we are. A court of maritime law?”
She laughs again, and it’s like I’ve won the lottery. Shaking her head, she swipes the deck of cards and shuffles them absently. I like watching her long fingers move deftly over the cards. She keeps her nails short—not bitten but neatly trimmed. They’re painted a matte gunmetal gray that I find stupidly sexy. And soverySadie.
“You’re ridiculous,” she says.
“I won’t disagree with you there. I know it doesn’t change anything, and I reallyamsorry that all this happened without you knowing, but I’m still glad you’re here. I like knowing you’re safe.”
Her smile falters as she cuts the deck. “I didn’t even think about Frank or Lo taking videos at the party. Or that anyonewould possibly care enough to search the internet at large for any trace of me.”
I wait for a moment, then when she doesn’t offer up anything else, I say, “German hasn’t told me anything. Just that everything isclassified.”
She makes a face. “Sounds about right. And sounds veryGerman.”
“Is it too classified to share with the man offering you sanctuary aboard his yacht?”
“You mean the man who kidnapped me?” she asks, pinning me with a look.
“Even if I say please?”
She rolls her eyes at this, but I don’t miss the way her lips quirk up the slightest bit. Seems like those smiles are getting easier.
“I can tell you I’m what the government calls a white hat hacker,” Sadie continues. “Mostly, my job is to find the holes in security systems. Figure out how to break into stuff to prevent other real hackers from doing the same thing. But sometimes, they use me for other things too. To look for stuff. This time … I went a little too deep. I kicked the wrong anthill, so to speak.”
“And now, what—someone’s coming after you?” I’m not sure why, but this all sounds a lot more serious than when German talked about it. Maybe because I can see the worry etched into Sadie’s features—the worry she’s trying to hide.
She shrugs. “I guess they were able to track what I did back to me, and that was enough for German to think I’m in danger.”
I so badly want to ask what, exactly, she did. What anthill did she kick over? My heart rate has kicked up, and I have to tell myself to breathe and make an intentional effort to tamp down the uneasiness swirling in my gut. But the idea of someonebeing after Sadie—I don’t know how to get over that.
I at least plan to have my own conversation with German. He may not have clearance to tell me too much, but I feel like he at least owes me a little more, considering the circumstances. I also want to talk to John and let him know that things might be a little more serious than I thought. He may not look like it, but the man has serious training. I’d trust him over German any day.
