He seemed so sure, and she needed to believe in that confidence: It would be a tragedy beyond measure for him to be cut down now, when he was so close to the freedom he sought.

Strange, that someone she had met only days before suddenly seemed so important to her.

“I’m proud of you,” she said, running her finger down his photograph.

“That means a lot to me.” Pause. “And thank you for showing me the way. I never would have been able to do this without you.”

“Without my father, you mean,” she countered softly. “He has the contacts.”

“No. You’re the one.”

She frowned, thinking that was a funny way of phrasing it. “I want you to answer something for me.”

“Name it.”

Her eyes flipped up to his. “What are your chances. Realistically.”

“Of getting out of this alive?”

“Yes.” When he just shook his head, she frowned at him. “Remember, we’re so done with the whole ‘shelter the little woman’ routine.”

“Fifty-fifty.”

Well, didn’t that give her a knot in her throat. “That bad, huh.”

“Do you want something to eat along with the coffee? I’m no chef, but I saw some leftovers in the fridge and I can work a microwave.” When she begged off, he tacked on, “You have to eat.”

“I’d rather have sex with you,” she blurted.

Isaac coughed. Actually coughed, like someone had punched him in the solar plexus.

“Sorry if that’s too blunt.” She shrugged. “But social graces are waaaaay down my list of things to worry about right now. And I have a feeling I’m not going to see you after tomorrow night, either because you’re swept up into federal custody or because . . .” She took a deep breath. “I want a proper piece of you before you go. Something to remember you with that’s in my skin, not just my brain. Upstairs was so fast and furious . . . I want to pay attention and remember.”

He was silent for a long time. “I’d think you’d want to forget as much of this as you can.”

“Not you . . . I don’t want to forget you.” The corner of her mouth lifted a little. “Although I don’t think I could.”

When he stayed where he was, she pushed her chair back and stood up. The distance between them took three strides to cross, and as she came at him, he straightened; then he tugged his sweatshirt down like he was tidying himself up.

Grier rose onto her tiptoes and touched his face, putting her palms on his five o’clock shadow. “I’m never going to forget you.”

As he licked his lips, like he was hungry for exactly what she was after, she took his hand and drew him deeper into the wine cellar, pulling him fully inside, shutting them in together.