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  I clutched his hand, tears spilling out of my eyes because there was no way that I could hold so much emotion inside.

  "You make me feel whole," he said, his voice cracking with an emotion I couldn't identify. "And all I've done is fuck it up for you."

  Something dark and cold wrapped around me, then squeezed tight, making me work for each breath. "No," I whispered. I knew he was thinking of those awful photos. "God no. You didn't fuck anything up. And even if you had, killing Ilya Muratti isn't going to change a thing."

  "Yeah," he said. "It will."

  "Bullshit. The only thing that will change is that your juvie record will be unsealed."

  "Goddammit, Kat. You don't have a clue."

  "Because you're not telling me." I had to hold myself back to keep from shouting, I was so damned frustrated. "What do you know that I don't? How the hell did Muratti even get those pictures?"

  "Because I fucked up. Because my brilliant plan to keep you and your father safe took a fucking nosedive."

  I shook my head, not understanding.

  "Muratti cut through the layers of paper and corporations," Cole said. He pressed a finger to his temple and rubbed, as if fighting a massive headache. "I was right that he wouldn't push back against Stark--I was even right that when he found out about me it would deflect attention from your dad. But he pushed harder. Went further. And somehow in checking on me he found out about you. And along the way, the son of a bitch realized that you're Maury Rhodes's daughter."

  The words knocked me back like a blow to the chest. "No," I said lamely. "How?"

  "On paper, it looks like you came out of nowhere, Kat. That's hard to trace, sure. But it's also suspicious. And a man like Muratti has both curiosity and resources. He can find what needs to be found."

  I shook my head, reaching out for the table to steady myself.

  "He had someone follow you. Follow us. And don't you know he had a goddamn party when his gopher reported back on the kinds of pictures he'd managed to snag? St. Andrew's cross. Spreader bars. Flogger. Blindfolds. What do you think, Kat?" he asked, his voice harsh with anger and frustration. "You think your dad wants to see a picture of his little girl with a butt plug?"

  I winced and looked away.

  "Shit. Shit, I'm sorry." The harshness was gone from his voice, replaced by a soft gentleness that made me want to cry. "But you have to understand." He drew in a breath. "It's my fault. I know that. I should have seen it coming. I should have done a better job keeping you safe."

  "No," I whispered. "It's not your fault."

  "Hell, yes," he said, then met my eyes. "I fucked up. But that's a mistake I intend to remedy right now."

  "Cole, you can't."

  "The hell I can't. Muratti's going to release those pictures, Kat. If I don't tell him where your dad is, he's going to spread them far and wide."

  "Oh." It was the only word I could manage. I swallowed. Sucked in air. "We're not telling him where my dad is. I'm not painting a target on my father's back."

  "Well, you know, Muratti's not entirely unreasonable." A horrible irony laced his voice. "He said if I release them myself--if I let the whole world see those pictures of you--he'll let your dad walk. No retribution, no nothing."

  I met his eyes, then hugged myself. Those pictures, out there in the world. My dad would see them. My friends would see them. My private moments--our private moments--tossed out for the gossip hounds.

  And there was no telling myself they'd go away. They wouldn't.

  I might not be as much in the public eye as Nikki Fairchild, but I'd go through the same hell. At least her portrait had been art. Taken out of context, these were vile. They were the kind of pictures that would make the rounds on social media. That would get tossed up on YouTube.

  This was the kind of crap that lived forever, and with a man like Cole August attached to the gossip, it would live even longer.

  These photos would follow me the rest of my life.

  And Cole had seen that from the beginning. He'd seen that the only way to protect my privacy was to throw himself back in the muck.

  "Cole," I said, my heart breaking as I slid my arms around him. He stood tense at first, unresponsive. And then he tilted his head so that his forehead pressed against mine and his arms tightened around my waist.

  "You weren't supposed to know any of this. I wanted to keep you out of it. To keep you shielded from it. But I guess I managed to fuck that up, too."

  "Cole, stop," I said gently.

  "I didn't think you'd end up at Jahn's," he continued, and I wasn't even sure he'd heard me. "I left the envelope there with the stone as a message to Tyler and Evan. So they would understand what happened if I didn't return. Insurance, you know. Just in case."

  He leaned back so he could look at me. "But I didn't think it would be a problem. I planned to go there, kill the son of a bitch and any of his flunkies who got in my way, then come back, destroy the folder, and go home to you."

  "Christ, Cole." I could barely get a word out past the jumble of thoughts in my head. "How the hell could you even be sure that would end it? He might have left another set with someone for insurance against that very thing."

  "Not his style," Cole said, "so I figured it was a calculated risk. If I was right, you'd be safe. And you'd never even need to know any of this happened."

  "And if you were wrong?"

  "Then at least the bastard who did that to you would be rotting in the morgue."

  I raked my fingers through my hair. "You'd keep all of that from me? Lie to me?"

  "You have no idea how far I'd go to protect you." He stroked my cheek, his eyes taking me in, as if studying every line, every pore, every atom. "I want his blood, Kat. And I will have it."

  I shook my head, overwhelmed by the emotions swirling inside of me. "You think you have no control, but don't you see yourself? You are nothing but control right now. You're practically vibrating your grip is so tight." I held tight to his hand. "Take it further," I said. "Take it further by stepping back."

  "Stepping back?"

  "You can't do this, don't you get that? Kill him and you're back where you were before. That's not who you are."

  "I'll be whatever I have to be to keep you safe." I could feel the intensity rising in him. A primal, earthy quality, as if he was gearing up for a fight. "I promise you. I can do what's necessary with no problem whatsoever."

  I ran my fingers through my hair again, searching for an answer. The truth was, I didn't care if he killed Muratti. From what I knew of the son of a bitch, he deserved to die. But the consequences to Cole scared me to death. "What about giving the land back?"

  "Ran that option by the old man. He's way past wanting the land. All he wants now is his pound of flesh."

  "What about the son?" I asked. "Maybe he can talk to his father and--"

  "No," Cole said firmly. "I did talk to him, and you're right about Michael. He's a hell of a lot more reasonable. But it's Daddy's show and it's going to stay Daddy's show until the old man kicks the bucket."

  "You can't force that along."

  "Dammit, Kat, I can. I can and I will. Don't you get it? Don't you fucking get it? I love you, goddammit," he said, and the passion in his voice nearly knocked me over.

  "I love you, and I will take care of you. I will protect you. I will protect your father. I will goddamn make sure that nothing happens to you--that nothing happens to your father--and that these goddamn photos do not ever--ever--see the light of day."

  He'd pushed away from the table as he spoke and had moved toward me, forcing me backward to the far wall. Now he had me trapped there, a rack of shotguns to my left.

  I was caged in his arms, breathing hard, trying to find the magic words to make him stop and back up. To make him think and figure something else out. Because there had to be a way out. Because I couldn't live like this. Couldn't live in the nightmare that was crashing down all around me.

  "You're all that matters, Kat. Ilya Muratti sure as hel
l doesn't. He's nothing to us." He pulled me close and kissed me hard. "Say it, Catalina. Tell me he's nothing."

  "He's nothing," I said, then pulled him roughly back to me. I needed his touch, his hands. I needed it rough and hard and wild.

  I had no idea how we would get through this. How we could find an out that wouldn't destroy him or me, but I knew that we had to. I knew, because we had to be together. Because I had to be the woman in Cole's arms--and he had to be the man in mine.

  "Christ, Kat," he said, ripping my T-shirt up over my head. "Do you have any idea how much you mean to me? Do you have any idea the extent I would go to keep you safe?"

  "I do," I said, fumbling to get out of my jeans, kicking them off, tugging at his. We were wild, frenzied. I needed everything from him then. I needed his protection, his touch, his love.

  Dammit, we fit. Not just in sex, but in life. In the way we approached the world. In the day to day.

  Most of all, in love.

  "Kat," he murmured, then lowered his head to my breast. I hadn't bothered with a bra, and his mouth closed over me, sucking, teasing, biting. Sending ribbons of sensation coursing through me, shooting from my breast to my clit so that I was squirming under his touch, so aroused right then that I boldly slid my own hand down and stroked my own wet sex.

  "God, yes," he said, closing his hand over mine. "Do you know how hot that is? How hard it makes me to know that you're turned on. That you want me?"

  "There's never a moment that I don't want you," I said, admitting everything to him, because he already knew it anyway, and there was nothing left to hide from this man. "Please," I said, hooking my arms around his neck and then pulling him to the ground with me. "I need you inside me. Now. Please, Cole, now."

  He didn't hesitate, and as I spread myself open for this man I adored, he buried himself inside me, his body pounding against me, as if by the force of the motion he could make the world outside of us go away.

  "I love you," I said as I felt the pleasure rising up and curling around me.

  "I love you," I repeated, because I needed to know that he'd heard it, too.

  "Everything you are," I said as he thrust harder and deeper, as if each pounding attack on my body was meant to punish himself. "Everything you've done. Don't you get it, Cole? You've stripped me raw and put me back together again, and I love you for it. I love you desperately.

  "You gave me the world," I said, as I felt his body tighten inside mine, then shudder in the sweet throes of release.

  "You gave me everything," I said, as my own orgasm rolled through my body like a shock.

  "Don't take it away from me," I murmured, my body sated and my voice exhausted. "Don't rip it all out from under me. You promised me once that you wouldn't ever leave me. I couldn't stand it if you did. You have to know I couldn't stand it."

  He pulled me close, breathing hard. "But you could withstand those pictures being in the world?"

  "If that's what it takes," I said, realizing for the first time the full extent of what I'd been saying to him. "It would be awful. But if that's what it takes to stay with you--to really and truly stay with you--then I could handle that and more."

  He was silent, and I groaned in frustration. "Dammit, Cole, what do I have to do to prove it to you? Send the photos out as goddamn Christmas cards?"

  He pulled me close, his body shaking a little with what I finally realized was laughter. "Probably nothing that extreme," he said. "But, Kat, I need to know that you're sure."

  "I am." I stroked his head, his face. I looked into his eyes, because I needed to make sure he understood just how deeply I felt these words. "I can survive anything if I know you're at my side. If you really want to protect me, take me away. Take me to Europe or New Zealand or some tropical island so I'm not near the Internet or television or people I know. But don't do anything that risks them taking you away from me. Because I will tell you right now--if they arrest you or if Muratti's people hunt you down, it will kill me. And that will be on you."

  He studied me. "You're really sure?"

  I clutched his hands. "I can survive the photos. My dad can survive the photos. My friends, my career, my reputation. It won't be fun, but it will pass." I drew in a deep breath. "But if I lose you, I will shrivel up. That will be the end of me. Believe me, Cole. Believe me, and decide. Are you going to choose what you think I need, or will you listen to what I tell you I need?"

  I pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "Either way, I do love you. And, Cole," I added, "do you realize what happened tonight? You came," I said. "Without kink, without pain. With just you and me and what's between us."

  I watched his face as he took in the moment, realizing then that I was right. I grinned a little, then met his eyes, laughing at the expression of exultant pride.

  "Don't worry," I said wryly. "I like the status quo just fine. But it is always nice to have options."

  "Yes," he said. "It is."

  After a moment, he sighed and pulled me close. "Dammit, Kat, that's what I've been trying to get you to understand. I want the option of protecting you, baby, just like I promised your dad. But that's the option you're just not giving me."

  "The hell I'm not," I said. "Don't you get it? You're the shield between me and the world, and that's more protection than I could hope for. You want to be the big strong man, then do what I ask. Stand by me. Take me out of the country until the worst blows over. But don't you dare fucking leave me."

  He was staring at me, an odd expression on his face.

  "What?"

  "I adore you," he said. "I'm not sure how I survived a day without you."

  "Then you understand why I'm so certain that I can't risk facing a future without you."

  Slowly, he nodded.

  "So we tell the bastard to release the photos?" I asked.

  "If you're really certain."

  "I've never been more sure about anything," I said. "Not about anything except you."

  "I don't want to be around when you make the call," I said once we were on the jet.

  He cocked his head, eyeing me suspiciously.

  "I'm still certain," I assured him, hoping he couldn't see the way my insides were twisted up. "But that doesn't mean I like it or that I'm looking forward to the moment the photos go live."

  He studied me, as if searching for deception on my face. I guess he liked what he saw, because he finally nodded. "All right," he said. "I'll head up to the galley."

  "Bring me back some wine," I said dryly. "I'll need it."

  He nodded, then kissed me. "You are the strongest, most amazing woman I've ever met."

  "If I was that strong," I said, "I wouldn't be dragging you out of the country."

  "Leaving just means that you're smart." He brushed his thumb over my cheek. "There's good pain, and there's bad pain, sweetheart. Staying would be the bad sort of pain."

  "It wouldn't," I assured him. "So long as you're with me, it's all good." I took a deep breath. "Everything else is all set? Daddy?"

  "Evan and Tyler will get him from The Drake as soon as I've made the call. And they've arranged for him to spend a few months in Fiji. I can't promise you that he won't see the pictures, but I can promise that they won't be in his face."

  "All right. Thank you."

  His eyes narrowed. "You know damn well there's no reason to thank me."

  "You're wrong," I said, "but we don't have to argue about it again." I took a seat in one of the armchairs, casually tracing my finger over the tabletop in front of me. "Will you tell me now where you're taking me?"

  "Paris," he said. "You once told me you wanted to live there."

  "You remember that?"

  "You're like oxygen to me, Kat," he said. "And how could I possibly forget to breathe?"

  I watched him move to the front of the plane, this man I loved who made me happier than I could ever imagine being, and, despite everything going on around us, made me feel safer than I could ever imagine.

  I thought about the call he
was making--about the pictures that were going to be out in the world.

  I waited for the nausea to sweep over me, but it didn't. Just a tingle of unpleasantness, like that uncomfortable feeling when you have bad news to share with a friend.

  I'd survive this. With Cole at my side, I would survive this just fine.

  It took a few moments, but then the accordion-style sliding door opened and he stepped back into the passenger cabin. I stood immediately, alarmed by the expression on his face. Not anger. Not disgust or sadness or protectiveness or any emotion that I had anticipated.

  No, he looked bewildered.

  "Cole?" I took his arm and led him to the couch, then sat beside him. "What's wrong?"

  "He's dead," Cole said. "I spoke with Michael. Ilya Muratti is dead."

  "Dead? But--how?"

  He faced me, his dark eyes unreadable. "Someone broke into his house last night. Got all the way to his bedroom, put a bullet through his head, and managed to get out of the house undetected."

  I sat back, an odd mixture of shock and relief coursing through me. That, though, was pushed aside almost immediately by fear. "You didn't--"

  "No," he said, so quickly and with such force that there was no doubting his words. "And I don't know for certain, but I think that Michael did."

  "Michael? You think he killed his own father?"

  "I do," he said.

  "But why?"

  "The old man was a liability. This bullshit with you, the whole thing with the vendetta against your father. Ilya was about revenge and about keeping a tight fist around his empire. Michael is about playing it smart."

  I considered that for a moment, letting the ramifications of what he was saying flow over me. "The pictures," I began, my words coming slowly. "If Michael is about business, then there's no reason for him to release the pictures."

  "No," Cole agreed. "There's not."

  "Do you think he's going to just drop it?"

  "He told me as much." A slow grin lit his face. "It's over, baby. He's even mailing me the memory card. It's not perfect--for all we know he has them saved in the cloud somewhere--but I think you're safe."

  I sagged against him, overwhelmed by relief. And as his arms wrapped around me to pull me close, I let myself go and cried.

  "There's no reason to leave now," Cole said, when my tears finally stopped and I could breathe normally again. "Do you want to stay in Chicago?"