Page 61 of Belgian Betrayal

Fearghas barely felt the console digging into his ribs or notice the awkward twist of his neck as he plundered her mouth in a kiss that reminded him how much he’d missed her.

When he had to come up for air, his breathing was ragged and his groin so tight, he couldn’t have moved if he’d tried.

Catya touched fingers to her lips, her forehead puckering. “You make it even harder for me to walk away.”

“Then don’t,” he said. “Never walk away from me again, and you’ll make me the happiest man.”

She shook her head. “I can’t.”

“Or you’ll put me in danger?” He took her hands in his. “I’m willing to accept the risk.”

“I’m not.” She squeezed his hands. “I could never forgive myself if someone hurt you because of me.”

“And I choose to live with that risk rather than live without you.” He raised her hands to his lips. “I choose you.” Before she could protest, he went on. “I chose you in Moscow. I chose you in Scotland when the Roxburgh mansion exploded. I chose you in Athens, and I chose you in Bruges. I always have and always will choose you. Risk be damned.”

“I can’t,” she said, pulling her hands free of his. “You deserve a better life than one with me.”

Catya turned away as she gazed out the front windshield, frowning.

The sun had yet to tip over the horizon, but the gray light of pre-dawn grew lighter in the sky.

Even frowning, Catya was the most beautiful woman Fearghas had ever met. The frown only made her look fierce, which she was. It was the trait he loved most about her. How could he convince her to stay with him?

“Catya, there is no better life for me than one with you.”

Her frown deepened. Not the reaction he’d hoped for.

“You’re the only?—”

She held up a hand to silence him. “There’s a woman leaving Casandra’s flat.” She glanced at her watch and back at the woman descending the stairs. “It’s too early to go to the shops or a beauty salon.”

Fearghas studied the woman wearing a cream-colored pencil skirt that clung to her hips, thighs and calves. She pulled the lapels of a matching overcoat up to her chin as she stood on the sidewalk.

A white Mercedes sedan spun up beside her. The driver didn’t get out to open the door for her. Instead, Cassandra opened her own door and slid into the passenger seat.

Fearghas started to shift into gear to follow.

Catya laid a hand on his arm. “We can follow or check out her home while she’s gone.”

He hesitated for a moment. “She probably has a security system.”

Catya gave him a secretive smile. “I can be very disarming when I set my mind to it.”

He chuckled, immediately turned on by her sexy innuendo. “I bet you can.”

“So?”

“We’re breaking into her flat.” He shifted into gear. “Let me park away from here.”

He found a place to park two blocks away. In the blurry pre-dawn light, they hurried back to Cassandra’s flat and slipped around to the rear of the set of connecting flats.

Fearghas counted the number of flats until he arrived at the gate leading into the tiny garden off the back of Cassandra’s unit.

He looked for security cameras, finding none on the back corners or over the back door.

Catya pointed to the only tree in the garden. It grew up past the rooftop, the branches shading a patio paved with stone, one of which was fairly close to the balcony on the second floor. “I can climb up and unlock it from the inside.”

Fearghas shook his head. “I’ll do it.” When she gave him a stubborn glare, he reasoned, “I’m taller, have a longer stride and more upper body strength.” He grinned. “But you can give me a boost.”

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