Page 22 of Belgian Betrayal

Thankfully, Fearghas hadn’t.

As they came back to reality, a tiny corner of her mind wondered what it would be like to carry a child in her womb. Not just any child. A miniature of the Scotsman. A mischievous boy or strong-willed girl who would have his fiery red hair and green eyes.

Fearghas rose, found a clean cloth, soaked it and wrung out the excess moisture. He returned to her and cleaned her belly and her sex, finally wiping the come from his stiff cock. He rinsed the cloth and hung it to dry beside the stove.

Catya couldn’t look away. His form was strong, fit and sexy as hell, but it was his concern for her well-being and the care he demonstrated when he took her in his arms that made her love him.

Throughout her life, she’d shied away from committing her heart to anyone. Her parents had drilled into her head that loving someone could be seen as a weakness. Yet, they’d been together for years. And they’d died together.

How had they managed to make their dangerous lives work together? She’d told herself they were an anomaly. Every other spy she’d known moved in and out of relationships. Or their loved ones had been picked off in retaliation for something they’d done.

Catya pulled the sheets and blanket over her naked body. She could never forgive herself if someone hurt Fearghas to get back at her.

Her breath caught in her lungs as realization hit her square in the gut. She’d broken the number one rule she’d promised herself when she’d chosen to become an assassin.

Never. Fall. In. Love.

As she stared across the floor at Fearghas, she couldn’t lie to herself anymore.

She loved this man.

That love could cost him his life.

Chapter 6

Fearghas slipped into the trousers Catya had found for him and pulled the sweatshirt over his head.

He ran his hands over his clothes. As Catya had predicted, they were drying fast. After adjusting the jacket and trousers to allow other areas of the fabric to dry, he turned his boots around and moved them closer to the stove.

He didn’t have to look to know Catya lay awake, her gaze following him around the room.

“Sleep,” he said. “I’ll wake you if anything comes through.”

“Lay with me,” she said softly.

He shook his head. “You need to sleep. If I join you on that bed, neither of us will sleep. I’ve got first watch. At least close your eyes and rest, even if you don’t fall asleep.”

She sighed and did as he suggested. A few minutes later, she opened her eyes. “I’m not sleepy.”

“I’m not talking to you.” He pulled out one of the chairs and sat facing away from her.

Every fiber of his being wanted to do as she’d asked and join her in the bed.

He had to be strong for both of them. If he laid down, they’d make love again. Afterward, he might fall asleep and miss an important message, maybe even a warning that trouble was coming.

No. He had to remain vigilant.

After thirty minutes of stubborn silence, he glanced over his shoulder to find Catya sound asleep, her chest rising and falling in deep, even breaths.

He sighed. Further temptation avoided.

For the hundredth time, he checked the laptop for any messages.

Nothing.

Fearghas pushed to his feet and stretched his arms over his head, working the kinks out of his back. He could never work a desk job. He needed to keep moving.

He checked the satellite phone to ensure the ringer was turned on, then lifted his cell phone. It appeared dry enough on the outside. He pressed the button to turn the phone on and waited, holding his breath.

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