* * *

Eban woke early the next morning and it was still dark. The air was chilly. The fire had gone out sometime during the night. He checked his wristwatch. Six AM.

Darby moaned and cuddled into his side. As much as he treasured the time alone with her, cocooned in this cabin, he needed to check his messages. See if any progress had been made on the case. See if this nightmare had ended while they’d slept.

The scent of her hair teased his nostrils and reminded him of what they’d done last night. It had been better than he’d ever imagined and once again her bravery humbled him. She wasn’t a coward the way he was. He’d been terrified of hurting her and she’d been determined to overcome her past. He didn’t deserve her, and he didn’t know if he could let her go if she didn’t want the same things he did.

Sure, he could wait to have kids. And he was prepared to help however he could, but the burden of childbearing fell on the person who was pregnant, and Darby had dreams to chase.

He wouldn’t pressure her or rush her, that wouldn’t be fair, but if they weren’t on the same page about the idea of having kids he’d rather know now. He’d always craved being part of a loving family. Had dreamed about it his entire life.

But would a family replace the hole left if he didn’t have Darby in his world? He didn’t think so.

He edged out of bed to avoid waking her and headed into the lounge. There were embers in the fireplace, and he added crumpled paper and birch bark which quickly caught. He added small pieces of wood and let it slowly start to burn.

He could worry about their relationship and his life’s path when this killer was caught and Darby was safe.

He had a ton of messages and emails. Charlotte Blood told him Quentin had been called to a crisis situation on a Navy vessel in a Virginia Naval Base that sounded serious. Eban was obviously needed back at CNU but no way he was leaving Darby here unprotected.

Hopefully, if they hadn’t found this killer in the next twenty-four hours and the weather cleared enough to land the jet here, she’d agree to accompany him to Quantico and the decoy agent could take her place.

The idea of leaving her here alone was unthinkable, and he’d hate to have to kidnap her again.

Chapter Thirty-Two

The presenter on the radio said the cops had found irrefutable evidence that proved that Darby O’Roarke hadn’t killed Martin Carstairs or Adele Surrey. Then they mentioned how Darby had been assaulted at the Diamond Head Lodge last night where she’d been meeting with her attorney. I figured she might be staying there too. Martin Carstairs’s brother was now in jail.

I scratched my head as I drove. I’d seen footage on social media and the violence of the attack had shocked me. The Fed had managed to talk the man into dropping his knife, reminding me Winters was a trained negotiator, not a bodyguard. He obviously hadn’t protected Darby very well last night. Asshole.