He shakes his head. “The guy got you in a position to be hurt. I think someone like Legend would be better.”

“She wants Marcus.” Jade hasn’t met him, but when we talked the other day and I described him as a down to earth Yorkshire man, she said she wanted him. Would feel most comfortable with him.

“Things were as safe as they could have been made to be that day I met Lexy, Sam. You need to let it go. No one could have predicted she’d have acted so violently and so suddenly. Not you. Not the police. Who, by the way, also thought I should wear the wire. Not Marcus.”

He scowls and says nothing. I get it. If he can’t blame Marcus, then he has to blame himself. When the reality is, no one is to blame.

I squeeze his hand. “Will you talk to Konstantin and Andrius in Greece and see if they can spare him, then speak with Marcus. I’m scared for my friend.”

We have reached the paddock, and he hands the mare over to one of the stable hands, as we continue to walk toward the house.

He lets go of my hand and puts his heavy arm around my shoulder. “You know I can’t deny you anything.” He kisses the top of my head.

We reach the house, and he opens the door, toeing his boots off as we step inside the massive entranceway.

I love this place, but I’m glad he said he can’t deny me anything because I want to go home. Not forever but for a visit. I need to speak to my bosses at the television company. I’ve decided to hand my notice in. I don’t want that life anymore. What I want is to write. I’ve had an idea for a novel, and I will use my art knowledge to write a thriller set in the world of art forgery.

I’m missing my parents, though, and now with the news from Jade, I want to see my friend.

Brutus runs up to us, on his tiny legs, barking joyously. Two massive dogs shadow him. We brought the guard dogs back with us. They’re now our girls, our pets, and they are so gentle with Brutus it makes my heart melt.

After we greet the dogs, I head to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of wine. Alcohol free. I’m not drinking since the head injury, and now I have a new reason not to. One I need to tell Sam about.

I run my hand over my stomach, imagining it swollen with life. My engagement ring sparkles, and I smile to myself. I lift my head and see my fiancé watching me. His face is a picture. His eyes dart from my hand to my face and back again.

“Are you….”