Say No More

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Say No More Page 23

by Liliana Hart


  He took out the first shooter quickly and then moved quietly to a new position so he could get a better glimpse at the other shooter. He didn’t want to kill Liv by mistake. And then the thought slipped into his mind before he could control it. If she was still alive.

  He’d almost taken another step when something had him holding back. He didn’t breathe, or take the chance of moving his head for a visual. All he could use were his eyes and the senses he’d been born with.

  His heart thudded and sweat dripped from his eyelashes, stinging his eyes. And with every ounce of his ability as Simon Locke, he slowly squatted down so he was closer to the ground and in thicker cover. A split second later, tree bark exploded where his head had been.

  He inhaled deeply, and then let out a slow exhale, taking in everything around him. What belonged. What didn’t belong. And then he saw them, as if they were painted in Technicolor all of a sudden.

  It was an ambush. There were four of them. Two up in the trees and two more at his ten and three o’clock. And almost exactly parallel with him was Liv. He saw just the slightest flash of red hair from the corner of his eye. She’d gotten to the exact conclusion he had, and had stopped and taken cover before walking into the trap.

  He slowly turned his head, and breathed out a sigh of relief when he found her gaze on his. She’d already seen him and was waiting. With just one of them it would’ve been almost impossible to take them on and win. But with two … with the two of them together they might have a fighting chance.

  He made careful movements with his hands, alerting her that they should kill the two in the higher positions first, because once they fired they’d be easy to spot. Then he indicated that she should take the other guard on the left, and he’d take care of the right.

  Dante had never had the occasion to see her shoot in a scenario such as this one, and if he hadn’t studied her file so extensively he would’ve been worried about her capability of hitting two such difficult targets. But he knew she was an expert marksman, almost as good as Elias, and that was saying something.

  He held up three fingers and then started the countdown, and when he only held up one finger he took aim and fired. He heard a second shot sound just slightly before his own, and then he smiled as two bodies fell from the trees they’d been hiding in.

  His second target was taking aim in Dante’s direction, but Dante was faster, hitting him center mass.

  “Let’s go,” he said, noting Liv had taken care of her second target as well. “They can only hold the boat for so long.”

  She stared at him for a long second, her lips twitching in amusement. “Well, Lord Malcolm. I believe this is the first time I’ve ever seen you sweat.”

  And then she took his hand and they ran back to the extraction point, hoping to God the boat was still waiting for them.

  “There she is,” Liv said, as they broke through the cover of trees and their feet sunk into white sand.

  “Thank God,” Dante said. “I need a shower and an excellent glass of white.”

  “What if I offered to scrub your back?” she asked as they stepped onto the dock and ran toward the end.

  “I’d say I can do without the wine for a few more hours.”

  Elias waited for them at the end of the dock in the Zodiac, the motor running and a machine gun in his lap.

  “Good timing,” Elias said as they lowered themselves inside.

  Dante looked back to see the plume of black smoke rising from the south end of the island. Fire.

  “Elizabeth,” Liv said, moving to stand up, but Dante put his hand on her leg in warning.

  “Shiv has things under control,” he told her. “They’ve got an escape route. I talked to him before I came back to find you. Elizabeth is fine. I saw her.”

  Liv let out an audible breath and nodded, and then she purposefully looked away. “The past can’t be changed,” she said.

  And he wondered if she was talking about her sister or him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  The yacht, like everything, was owned by Trident. It wasn’t the same yacht Elias and Miller had used on their little adventure—that one was smaller and possible to manage with only one person at the helm.

  The yacht they were using to transport the girls and themselves back to the United States had enough bedrooms for everyone on board and took a crew of twenty to operate. It was big and white, a simple blue stripe painted across the hull, and a discreet gold trident on the side. In another twelve hours, they’d be back on land.

  It was sunset, and they were sharing their last dinner before docking, celebrating a job well done. A long table sat on the deck, the white tablecloth blowing gently in the breeze. The dishes were elegant, the wine superb, and the eight people sitting around the table were enjoying cuisine that was as exquisite as the finest restaurants in the world.

  “I don’t know about you guys,” Elias said. “But I could do without seeing another island for the rest of my life. We’ve decided to go to the mountains for our honeymoon.”

  “It’s the only thing we can agree on,” Miller said. “I just want to get married. I don’t care when or how we do it.”

  “Fine,” Elias said. “Let’s do it now. The captain can marry us.”

  Miller’s mouth hung open as the rest of the table cheered at the idea, waiting to see if she’d call his bluff.

  “Fine,” she nodded, tossing her napkin on the table. “Right here, right now.”

  Now it was Elias’s turn for his mouth to hang open. “Are you serious?” he asked. “You’d really marry me right now?”

  “Let’s do it,” she said, her smile growing. “All the people I care the most about are here, and I’m wearing a white dress. It’s like a sign from God.”

  Dante laughed as he watched Axel bring a very surprised captain to the deck, but as things were explained to him, even the captain was on board with performing the ceremony.

  “Things must never be dull around you guys,” Liv said, leaning in close as everyone moved their chairs so they could see better.

  “I welcome the dull days,” he said. “It means I can sleep. Which is what I’d rather be doing right now.”

  Liv arched a brow. “Oh, really? Sleeping?”

  Dante grinned rakishly. “Maybe just lying down for a bit. Naked. And with you.”

  “I’m glad you added that last bit,” she said cheekily. “I was starting to worry.”

  It had taken no time at all for everyone to get in place and the captain to start the ceremony. And it had been a touching moment when the captain had asked for the rings and Axel had very stoically taken off his wedding band and handed it to Miller so she could place it on Elias’s finger.

  Dante felt satisfaction watching his friend—his brother—get married. It was just right. There was no other way to explain it. And he clapped and cheered with the others when Elias enthusiastically kissed the bride.

  Only cold water was dumped on the whole thing when one of the large outdoor screens came on and Eve’s face appeared. She arched a black brow at the group and waited for an explanation.

  “Elias and Miller just got married,” Deacon said.

  Eve’s gaze narrowed and she zeroed in on the happy couple, whose smiles had dimmed just a touch.

  “Congratulations,” she said, though the tone of her voice said anything but. “But if you don’t mind, there is still work to be done. I’ll meet you in the morning to collect the launch codes. Though I should be thanking Agent Rothschild for that, since the rest of you managed to let them slip through your fingers. Otherwise, all I’d have to show for this very expensive mission is a bunch of Russian girls and a newly married agent, which is useless to me. And don’t expect to take time off for a honeymoon at the moment,” she told Elias. “We’ve still got the Baltimore bombings to deal with. Though maybe I should get Agent Rothschild to handle that too since the lot of you have turned into a bunch of lovesick puppies. I’m not sure when my organization turned into the Love Co
nnection.”

  Elias snorted out a laugh. “I think she just made a joke.”

  “Yet I’m not laughing,” she said. “I’ll meet you at zero eight hundred to collect the codes. And I want to see progress on Baltimore in twenty-four hours or I’ll be paying you a visit in Last Stop.”

  The screen snapped off, and there was a heavy weight of silence after Eve’s abrupt departure.

  “I think you’re right, Elias,” Levi said. “I think that was a joke.”

  The tension was broken and the cheers started up again for the happy couple, along with champagne and the flutes to go with it that the staff had hastily put together.

  “To Miller and Elias,” Dante said, holding up his glass. “May you be blessed with a lifetime of happiness and love. And may you never take the gift of what you’ve been given with each other for granted.”

  “Cheers,” everyone said in unison. And Dante slipped his hand into Liv’s and wished he could’ve taken his own advice two years before.

  EVERYONE SCATTERED AFTER dinner and went to do their own things. Dante knew that Liv liked to sit on the top deck in the evening with a glass of wine as she watched the sun disappear behind the water. It was always isolated, and he’d taken to joining her the last couple of nights, where they’d just sit in silence and enjoy the quiet time together.

  When he climbed up the ladder, she turned her head and smiled, patting the lounger next to hers.

  He settled on the chaise and lay back, then took her hand in his as he normally did. He didn’t think he’d be as nervous as he was. He was never nervous about anything. He looked down at his hands and saw they were trembling slightly. Love was making him a mess. Maybe retirement was the best thing for him if this is what was going to happen when things got interesting. He’d never known a thief with shaky hands. At least not one that wasn’t in prison.

  “I need to ask you something important,” he said.

  She pushed her sunglasses on top of her head and looked at him. “What’s that?”

  “Do you forgive me?” he asked. “For Simon Locke? For lying to you?”

  She was quiet for what seemed like several minutes, though it was just seconds. “I do forgive you,” she said solemnly. “It’s in the past.”

  “And what about the future?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Why don’t you tell me? My life is in flux.”

  He blew out a big sigh of relief. “I was hoping you’d say that. It’s frowned upon to be in a relationship during the Gravedigger contract term, but Elias and Deacon have both managed to make it work. You’ve met Eve,” he said. “She can complicate life.”

  “I’d say so,” Liv agreed.

  “I need to tell you I love you,” he said. “To your face this time and where you can hear my clearly. And I think we have an incredible future together. I’m sure I can convince Eve that you’d be an asset to the team. And you and Tess and Miller have become friends. We’d all help with your transition to Last Stop. I’ve got a condo, but we could buy a house if you prefer, though I think you’ll like the condo—”

  “Hold on a second,” Liv said, releasing his hand. “What’s going on here? First you tell me you love me, and then you tell me what I’m going to do? You just assume that I’d be okay with becoming a Gravedigger, if Eve allows me to be one. Or that I’d be okay with living in Last Stop, Texas. Or that I’d be okay living in your condo, for that matter.”

  Dante had a sinking feeling that things weren’t going to go the way he’d planned in his head. Things rarely ever did with Liv.

  “Did it ever occur to you to tell Eve to take a hike and then you come to London with me? Or, hell, to Paris or Rome or Geneva?”

  He shook his head, his brow furrowing in confusion.

  “I can see you didn’t think of it,” she said. “And that’s the problem. Everything always has to fit into your timeline, your wants and needs. You never have to work too hard at anything, so—”

  “I’m willing to work hard at getting you to move to Last Stop,” Dante interrupted.

  “Because that’s convenient for you,” Liv said. “It’s not so convenient for me. But you didn’t even offer a compromise. You didn’t even bother to tell me that I’m worth chasing across an ocean.”

  “I’m in a contract with The Gravediggers,” he said. “I can’t just move back to London. And there’s also the little problem that I’m supposed to be dead.”

  “You were the best international art thief in the world. You’re telling me you don’t know how to get what you want, if you want it bad enough?”

  He’d lost control of the situation somehow, and he could feel her spiraling out of his reach forever.

  “Of course I want you,” he said, panic consuming him.

  She shook her head and stood from the lounger, walking toward the ladder. “You just don’t want me bad enough. Have a nice life, Lord Malcolm.” Then she climbed down the ladder and out of his sight.

  When he woke in the morning, prepared to apologize once again and try to make things right, she was already gone.

  EPILOGUE

  London

  Three Days Later

  She’d made the right decision. She hoped.

  Liv typed in her code and leaned against the back wall of the elevator. There was a soft whirring as it passed from floor to floor, and a ding as it stopped at the floor of her penthouse. The doors had been gaping wide for a few moments before she realized they’d opened, and she stared into the dimly lit foyer, trying to figure out why she was home in the middle of the afternoon.

  Her brain was just on overload. Or maybe she was in shock. She’d completely turned her life upside down, and now she had to figure out what the hell she was supposed to do next.

  Her time with Interpol had truly come to an end. When Beck had called and asked her to be reasonable and come back to work, she’d had every intention of accepting his offer. She was in the prime of her career, and she did good work. Important work.

  But after her time with The Gravediggers on Imperial Island, her eyes had been opened to so much more. She was barely scratching the surface in what she was doing with Interpol. She’d put in a request with MI6 instead. The work was more dangerous—a life lived in the gray—but she wasn’t married. She didn’t have a family. It was a risk she could afford to take.

  It was time to stop delaying and get her foundation off the ground. The Elizabeth Rothschild Foundation for Girls needed to become a reality. Liv owed it to her sister, and to all the girls over the years whom she’d stared in the face and told it would be okay. She’d need to hire someone full-time to oversee it and deal with the day-to-day minutiae, but it was time to use her money and experience for good and push forward with the project. Elizabeth was safe and happy, despite the trauma from her childhood, and other little girls deserved that as well.

  Her footsteps sank into the plush carpet and the air-conditioning sent chills across her skin. She dropped her keys in the little bowl on the foyer table and went to adjust the thermostat.

  She needed to call Donner and check up on him. And then what?

  Watery light filtered in through the bank of windows, but she didn’t bother to turn on any lights. The rain suited her mood, and she decided her best course of action was to put on a pair of lounge pants, pour herself a glass of wine, and spend the rest of the afternoon reading Miller Darling’s latest release on the chaise in her bedroom.

  Detouring into the kitchen, Liv took a bottle of white from the small wine fridge, going through the ritual of opening it. She poured herself a healthy glass, putting the remainder of the bottle on ice, and then carried it into her bedroom. The electronic shades were still down from when she’d closed them that morning, and she moved to the small round table next to the chaise, where she thought she’d left the remote for the shades. Not there.

  She set down her wine and went to the bed, checking the nightstands. The housekeeper had been in and her bed was made. Maybe the woman h
ad moved the remote somewhere.

  The lounge pants and tank she preferred were folded at the end of the bed, and Liv quickly stripped out of her clothes and put them on. And then she searched through the bedcovers again for the remote.

  “Damn it,” she said. She’d had it that morning. She distinctly remembered closing the shades before she left to see Beck. She always closed them during the day in the summer because the sun made it impossible to cool the bedroom, even with the air conditioner on high. Maybe she’d taken it into the kitchen with her when she’d grabbed a bottle of water.

  She flipped on the light on the bedside table, and she froze as the hairs on the nape of her neck stood on end. Hanging above the bed was a painting she hadn’t seen in two years. It was the Degas that Dante had taken the night he’d died.

  He was here.

  Even as she had the thought, the remote landed on the bed just feet in front of her.

  “Looking for that?” Dante asked.

  He sat in a chair cast in the shadows behind the door, his legs crossed and his cheek resting on his fist.

  She hadn’t even felt his presence. As much training and experience as she’d had, he was just that good. If he’d been the enemy, she’d already be dead and not know what had hit her.

  Her heart caught in her chest and she looked down at the bed, picking up the remote and giving herself a moment to breathe. She wasn’t prepared to see him. Not when she’d said good-bye with such finality.

  Liv cleared her throat. “I see you let yourself in.” She pressed the button on the remote, and the shades slowly started opening.

  “Your security leaves something to be desired. You might as well not have any at all.”

  “I’m sure it keeps out ninety-nine percent of the riffraff,” she said.

  “But it’s the one percent you have to watch out for. British Intelligence agents become targets.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t suppose there’s any point in asking how you know about that?”

 

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