“He’s coming. I took one to the shoulder, but we’ll never get the boat started before he catches up. You stay down,” he said. “Stay under me. Ambulance will be here in minutes. Don’t underestimate those boys. Biondo will come, too.”

The assassin?

“Love you, Lisa.” His mouth was against her ear. “Reach into my pocket. Don’t use it until you see his face. Not until then. I’m your shield.”

He was willing to lie there and take every bullet that came her way.

She reached into his pocket and felt cold metal. She flicked off the safety. “Please, let me up. I can shoot. I can save you. I don’t want to lose you.”

Not when she’d just found him. Not when everything they’d ever wanted was right there, ready for the taking.

She felt his body shudder above hers.

“Not on your life, ma crevette. I’m your cover. Now and always. Never going to let you down again. Love you. Not until you see his face.” He went still.

So heavy. His dead weight held her down, but the boat still rocked gently. It was dark. The lights had been turned off and only the moon illuminated the deep gloom of night.

Please. Please. Please. Let him live or let me go with him.

She would fight, but she couldn’t see a life without him. What the hell had she been thinking? She couldn’t leave him, couldn’t leave her home.

The sound of hard-soled shoes hitting the wooden planks thudded along, getting closer and closer.

“Time to go, bitch,” a deep voice said. “Fucking job wasn’t supposed to get bloody. Scarsdale is going to pay. Come on. We have to get out of here now or I’ll have to kill the EMTs. You don’t want that on your conscience, do you? Not after you got all these other assholes killed.”

She waited. Waited until the footsteps stopped. Waited until his voice was close. Waited until he leaned over as though trying to figure out exactly what he was seeing.

His face came into view and she swung the gun up, pulling the trigger.

Jones’s head snapped back as the boat swayed again and he was gone from her vision.

What was happening? Had she hit him? “Remy? Remy, babe, please talk to me.”

“Can’t. My ear’s ringing. So damn loud,” he complained.

Yeah, that shot had cracked the air around them.

“Come, mio amico,” a deep voice said. “Please don’t shoot me, bella. I have very little time and I need to use this boat to disappear. Your man is going to be fine.”

The Italian pulled Remy off her with a groan. She could suddenly breathe again. She scrambled up, the gun still in her hand. An assassin had Remy. He had Remy and there was nothing she could do.