Page 106 of Trapped

His face turned grim. “You couldn’t know Montgomery was using something like that. I didn’t understand the implications. Nobody could,” he said, softening his voice.

She kept her gaze on him. “In case you haven’t figured it out, the bad stuff is over,” she said, her tone very sure and authoritative.

He stared at her, trying to take it in. Was he really free from the nightmare of Afghanistan? The nightmare of the bunker? Of Montgomery’s diabolical interrogation methods?”

She kept her gaze fixed on him. “So, you have no more excuses.”

“Excuses for what?”

“For turning away from me,” she said in a strangled voice. “To make it perfectly clear, I mean, either you admit you love me and we go on to make up for all the years we lost, or you walk away because you can’t stand the idea of the two of us being happy together.”

He swallowed hard, then said the words. “I love you.”

“Thank God.”

“But I’m no good for you,” he said, in the spirit of full disclosure.

“Of course you are. You were ten years ago. And you are now. We loved each other back then, but neither one of us could admit it. And since then, no relationship has ever worked for either one of us.”

He silently nodded in agreement.

“We belong together. We always have.”

“Yes, but you have a PhD. I’m. . .”

“A patriot. A man with his feet on the ground. A man with values I admire. A man with courage and strength.”

“You make me sound like . . . a saint.”

She laughed. “Hardly. Thank the Lord. You’re a human being. With flaws. But I know your strengths are greater than your weaknesses. I knew that back in high school.”

“You might be overestimating me.”

“No. As you said, I’m a trained psychologist. I’m a very good judge of people. Stop looking for excuses to back away from me. “I love you. But I can be objective.”

He stared at her. “But . . .”

To keep him from saying anything he might regret, she reached out, brought his head down to hers and pressed her mouth to his. And when she did, all the emotions he’d been holding in check exploded through him.

It was like someone had finally given him permission to be happy. Or maybe he’d given himself permission. Finally—after all the years of missing her.

She was in his arms. And nothing was keeping them apart. Not anymore. He kissed her with all the passion that had been pent up inside him since they’d arrived at the Decorah safe house. And she kissed him back with the same intensity, her mouth moving under his, opening so that she could taste him with greedy enthusiasm.

Her hands stroked over his back, down his body, pulling his hips against hers. And he did the same, touching her everywhere he could reach.

The need for her burned through his blood, and he was about to raise his head and look for a place where he could make love with her when the door slammed open.

They both looked up in shock to see Knox Marshall staring at them. He grinned.

“Sorry.”

Cash stayed where he was, his arm protectively around Sophia.

“Frank wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Yeah. I am.”

“We’ve moving out. Unless you want to spend the night here, you’ve got five minutes.”

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