“I bet they did.”

“I miss her,” she whispered. “I want Ephraim to pay for what he did to her.”

“I want him to pay for what he did to you.”

“You and me both.” She yawned and snuggled closer. “You’re right. This is really nice. Simply holding each other like this.”

He smiled into her hair. “Yep.”

“But so we’re clear? I don’t want to be just friends. I’d like to resume what you interrupted earlier at some point in the near future.”

His cock surged to life. “Yeah?”

“Mm. Yeah. Do me a favor? The next time I come on to you, trust that I know what I want?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She chuckled softly. “Night, Rafe.”

So it seemed they were sleeping together. Rafe wasn’t going to complain. He pulled the throw blanket from the back of the sofa and maneuvered them from cuddled in the corner to stretched out together, his arms tight around her all the while. “Night, Mercy.”

SEVENTEEN

SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA

MONDAY, APRIL 17, 6:30 A.M.

Mercy woke to a feeling of panic. Arms were holding her down, a man’s arms. She stiffened, poised to flee, but then her brain became alert and she relaxed.

She wasn’t being held down. She was being held. And the arms holding her tight weren’t just any man’s arms. They were Rafe’s.

And he has feelings. For me.

It was . . . a lot. Especially before coffee. Please have some. She slipped out of his grip, tucking the blanket around him, then straightened, expecting to be stiff from sleeping on a sofa, but it had been incredibly cozy.

She couldn’t wait to do it again. Or . . . She glanced at the bed, partially hidden behind a silk screen.

Go for it. Be happy. Mercy bit back a laugh when she heard Farrah’s voice in her mind. But maybe her best friend was right. Maybe not being unhappy isn’t enough. Maybe I deserve to be happy, too.

And maybe she was still loopy from Rafe Sokolov’s kisses and whispered confidences. Which had been exactly what she’d needed.

She used the bathroom, then washed her hands and face, staring at her own reflection. She still had bags under her eyes, but nothing like they’d been before last night. Her eyes were . . . bright.

And she was smiling, which was really new.

And then she remembered that Quill was dead, and that people she’d never met had seen her naked. Yes, Bunker had gotten the video taken down quickly, but it had been online long enough.

But you’re going to be brave, she reminded herself. You’re going to hold your head high, because you didn’t do anything wrong.

“And you’re going to turn this shitstorm into something positive,” she said out loud, just in case the woman in the mirror wasn’t listening to the voices in her head.

“You sure are,” Rafe said on the other side of the door, making her jump a foot.