NATE SHUT OFF THE LIGHT, pulled up the covers on the queen-sized bed, and stared at the ceiling. He hadn't left the house all day, had barely left the great room, but he was exhausted. All he wanted was to close his eyes and sleep, knowing the next day this would all be over. If their plan worked, Richard would go to visit Hunter, and the FBI would catch him in their net. Richard had kept her alive all this time. Surely, he'd keep her alive until he got his money. And once he was in custody, he'd have no choice but to tell the agents where Ana was.

It was all going to end well. Nate was sure of it. Or as close to sure as he could be, when so many things could go wrong. Things he didn't want to think about right now, when he needed to sleep. He hadn't slept well since this whole ordeal started, and who could blame him? He didn't know how Marisa was handling it.

Marisa.

They'd kissed. In that moment, he'd felt all his fears crumble away, felt all his hopes return. In that moment, he'd felt at home in a way he never had before. In that moment, he'd known he would never be the same.

But she'd pulled away. Had he ruined everything, in that moment?

What kind of a man took advantage of a woman going through the trauma Marisa was facing? He was lucky she hadn't slapped his face. There'd been no tension between them all afternoon, but what would happen when Marisa got Ana back? Would they return to Mexico? Or would she choose to live in her house in Queens and raise her daughter and leave Nate behind? Marisa didn't need Nate. Once this was all over, she'd thank him profusely and walk away.

He'd had his heart broken before. Rae'd broken it pretty soundly all those years ago. But the feelings he'd had for Rae had been nothing, nothing compared to how he felt about Marisa. Maybe the situation was making everything feel stronger. Maybe when Ana was back and there was no life-or-death situation hanging over their heads, maybe his feelings would fade.

He wouldn't count on it.

He shifted to his side and squeezed his eyes closed. He had to sleep.

But sleep wasn't coming.

A soft shuffling sounded near the door. He opened his eyes and watched in the dark as a tall, slender form moved into his room.

"Are you awake?" Marisa's voice was a whisper.

He propped up on one elbow. "Are you okay?"

"I can't sleep, and I thought...I mean...I just can't be alone."

Thank God he was wearing pajama pants.

"You want to lie down in here for a while?"

"Would you mind?"