Page 19 of Belgian Betrayal

Catya stared at the monitor, clicking buttons, bringing up different websites and sending messages until she sighed and leaned back against Fearghas’s belly. “I’m getting nowhere. At this rate, it might be easier to put boots on the ground and comb the streets on foot.”

“If we knew what streets to comb.” Fearghas’s hands moved up her neck and into her hair, pulling free the elastic band that secured her ink-back hair in its braid. The long tresses fell like silk around her shoulders.

Fearghas slipped his fingers through the strands and pressed the tips against her head, massaging her scalp in a slow, circulating motion.

Catya moaned, the sound more of a purr. “I missed this.”

He bit down on the urge to remind her that she wouldn’t have missed his touch if she’d stayed. That she’d called to warn him of the danger said a lot. Catya cared about him.

How much she cared, he wasn’t sure. He’d take any time he could get with her, even if only as a friend.

She closed her eyes, letting her hands drop to her lap.

“You should rest,” he said.

“I am resting.”

“I mean sleep.”

“I can’t sleep,” she said. “When I close my eyes, I see Gia Rosolino’s face. The woman was terrified of that disk landing in the wrong hands.”

Fearghas slid his fingers to her temples and rubbed gently. “When was the last time you slept?”

“It’s been a day and a half. I’ve operated on less sleep.”

“Less sleep and an explosion that might have given you a concussion?” He shook his head and bent to press his lips to her forehead. “Sleep for at least a few hours. We don’t know what our day will bring. You’ll need energy to get through it. I’ll stay awake and let you know if anything comes through.”

She opened her eyes. “What about you? You need rest.”

“I wasn’t in an explosion,” he said.

“You almost drowned,” she reminded him.

“I had it all under control for the moment,” he said with a twist of his lips. “Until a beautiful assassin yanked me out of the water.”

Her brow wrinkled, and she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Okay. I’ll lie down for a few minutes. But only a few.” She stared up at him, a frown pulling her brow low. “Something has to come through soon.”

“It will,” he assured her.

She straightened, unplugged her laptop from the docking station and stood.

They moved the chairs back to the table.

Catya laid the laptop on the table and brought up the screen she’d been monitoring. “If anything comes up in my messages, wake me.”

He dipped his head. “Aye, mo ghràdh.” He helped her bring the bed down from the wall.

For an awkward moment, they stood beside the bed.

Catya’s gaze met his, a frown wrinkling her brow. “I knew you’d be in danger. That’s why I didn’t want you to come.”

He pulled her into his arms. “I know.” He kissed the top of her hair. “I’m glad you called. I want to help.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her cheek against his chest. “You could have died tonight,” she whispered.

“But I didn’t, thanks to you.” He tipped her chin up and brushed his lips across her forehead. “You almost died in that explosion and with those men trying to shoot you down from the rooftops.”

“But I didn’t.” Her lips pressed together. “I couldn’t.”

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