Page 54 of Belgian Betrayal

Fearghas slung the duffel bag over his shoulder.

Catya followed him out to the sedan. Dmytro rode in the front passenger seat next to Ace. Fearghas held the door for Jasmine and Catya to slide into the back seat and then climbed in beside Catya.

They rode in silence to the airport, where Dmytro performed his pre-flight check and filed his flight plan.

Soon, they were on their way, flying across the channel to England.

Catya had spent more time with people than she had in a very long time. At first, she’d been anxious, ready to be away, alone again. After so many years of looking over her shoulder, she had difficulty trusting others.

Being around Fearghas, Ace, Dmytro, Jasmine and Lucie, Catya could see how willingly they trusted each other, and even relied on each other to come through for them. Lucie’s hero-worship of Dmytro spoke of her love for the big man and Dmytro’s dedication to seeing that Lucie was safe from whatever trauma she’d experienced in her past.

Catya had grown up as the only child of a pair of Russian spies. She’d been raised to rely on herself and to never trust anyone else with her wellbeing.

She cast a glance toward Fearghas. The man wanted her in his life. She wanted to be with him. Why couldn’t she allow herself to be with him? He’d stated over and over that he could take care of himself. Couldn’t she take him at his word and just live a life worth living with him?

He reached over and took her hand in his as the plane took them to the next dangerous mission.

Could she live with herself if something happened to him because of her?

Now that they were back together, could she live without him?

* * *

Fearghas held Catya’s hand all the way to London. Rain fell steadily as they taxied to the general aviation terminal and were guided to a stop on the tarmac.

No sooner had Dmytro shut down the engines than a UK customs agent appeared outside the aircraft.

Dmytro climbed out of the cockpit. “Do not worry. Let me have your passports. I will handle customs.”

Fearghas handed over his passport as did Jasmine and Ace. Catya dug into her backpack and shuffled through a handful of passports in various colors and languages, coming up with one. She handed it to Dmytro.

He flipped it open and cocked an eyebrow. “Natalie Gooding from Portland, Oregon?”

“Born and raised there,” she said in a perfect Pacific Northwest American accent.

Fearghas grinned.

Dmytro nodded and opened the hatch, lowering the stairs to the ground. He descended to the tarmac and stood in the rain with the customs agent.

When the man asked for the passports, Dmytro handed them over. He waved for his passengers to exit the plane.

As they stood in the cold rain, the agent glanced at each one of them individually, stamped their passports, handed the passports to Dmytro and left in a hurry.

A van arrived on the tarmac, stopping next to the plane. The driver handed the keys to Dmytro and walked back to the terminal.

Ace and Dmytro quickly transferred their “luggage” from the plane into the back of the van while the others got in and found a seat.

Fearghas shook the raindrops from his hair, wiped his hand over his face and glanced at Catya.

Her dark hair lay plastered to her head, and raindrops clung to her thick eyelashes. She shivered.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“I am.” Catya gave him a quick smile. “Is this what they call liquid sunshine?”

He nodded. “A beautiful day in Great Britain.”

“I like Athens better,” she murmured.

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