She studied Eban’s profile—the dark eyes, the slight curve of his nose, the full lips that were compressed as he concentrated on finding the right address.

“It must suck to be so suspicious sometimes.”

Eban raised his brows in a flash of humor. “I grew up suspicious.”

He didn’t say anything further, but then he rarely talked about his upbringing. She knew he’d been raised by a single mom in some small town in rural Montana, but that was pretty much it.

“I always thought you had a nice job in law enforcement, talking people out of doing bad things or making terrible mistakes, but it isn’t like that at all, is it?”

He shot her a look. Shook his head. “I tend to meet people when the situation has spiraled out of control. Bank robbers trapped inside buildings with hostages who want us to arrange helicopters for their escape, willing to do anything to avoid jail time. Estranged husbands taking their ex-wives captive because they can’t deal with the realization that a woman doesn’t want them anymore. The worst are parental kidnappings where one parent doesn’t want to comply with a court order—sometimes it’s the parent genuinely fearing for their child’s safety who causes the issue. That’s heartbreaking. They risk losing custody by creating a kidnap situation and it seriously doesn’t help their case with the courts—but they fear for their kids’ lives with the other guardian.” He glanced at her. “Then there are the international incidents like yours with groups who scoop up hostages as bargaining chips. Those usually take months to resolve.”

She looked away. Her rescue had been a fluke. If the same terrorists hadn’t snatched an FBI agent a few days later, she’d probably still be in that hut, and she would have definitely lost her mind.

“I still dream about them sometimes,” she admitted.

“I am sure you do.”

His voice soothed her.

“You know what I figured out recently?” she asked.

He shook his head.

“I feel sorry for them.”

His lips twisted together. “Then you’re a better person than I am.”

“I’m not, but I know I was lucky and they were not. I’m glad they’re all dead which makes me a terrible person, but I don’t care.”

Eban’s expression suggested he disagreed with her self-assessment.

“I was only held for six days which you know is a miracle. And because of what happened I met Haley, Quentin, you…” She wanted to take his hand but didn’t dare. “I’m not glad it happened to me, but I wouldn’t swap you guys for anything.”

She watched the muscles in his throat work as he fought to control his emotions.

“I wish we’d met some other way. I wish you hadn’t had to go through that.”

She nodded and looked out the window, unwilling to hold his dark, perceptive gaze. “Me too. But that’s not what happened and despite what some people might think, I’ve made good progress dealing with the trauma.”

“You haven’t told many people the extent of what you went through,” he stated without judgment.