He looked back and she could see him as the world around her began to brighten slightly. Civil twilight. Not quite dawn. “To start everything. I was wrong. I was scared before, scared of screwing things up, scared of not being enough for you. But all I have to do is love you and be a good partner to you.”

She moved in behind him, resting her head against his back. “You are everything to me.”

“And I’ve been waiting for you since I was a child, waiting to find the other half of my soul,” he said. “This is another part of my soul, chèrie, and I want to share it with you.”

The boat bumped slightly as they ran aground, and she could see they’d made it to what looked like an island in the middle of the bayou. Remy tied the boat to a tree stump and then helped her out with his good hand. She jumped the last of the way, landing in a small clearing.

“Zep and Sera and I would come out here this time of year. Always at dawn because there’s nothing like it,” he said.

“Nothing like what?”

In the low light, she watched him smile. “Wait for it. We’ve got a few minutes. We can conduct our business and let our friend be on his way.”

“Asking me to leave so quickly?” Biondo’s voice came from the other side of the small island.

Remy stepped in front of her like they were in the presence of a predator. “We just want to move on with our lives. I need to know this is over.”

The man known as Il Biondo stepped from behind one of the massive trees, coming out into the clearing. “If I get what I need.”

Men. They were making this super dramatic. She moved from behind Remy, holding her hands up to show she didn’t have anything in them because…again with the overly dramatic men.

“Thank you for what you did at the wharf. We would be dead if you hadn’t shown up.” She walked right up to the beast.

“Lisa,” Remy said under his breath.

She gave the assassin her most brilliant smile. “Can I give you a hug?”

Biondo stilled, the question seeming to completely stump him. He looked over at Remy. “Mr. Guidry?”

Remy sighed. “Go on. She’s a hugger. You’ll hurt her feelings if you don’t.”

The Italian seemed awkward as he patted her on the back. She squeezed the man, willing him to feel how grateful she was. How long had it been since he’d had a kind hand on him? Had it been since his wife and child died?

“Thank you so much for saving us,” she said.