Page 7 of Resurrection

Jay chuckles. “You think Eric and Finn will get along?”

“Not a snowball’s chance in hell.”

Eric will be livid when he realizes the laws I broke and the favors I called in to lift Finn from the warehouse without a trace. Given how little notice I had to save him, I made sketchy deals and poor compromises. Eric will rake me over the coals for exposing the company. As the head of the Van de Berg Ammunitions, I should be more careful. His criticism is valid, but I don’t want to hear it.

We drive in silence through the streets of Zurich, headed to the countryside and our luxury chalet, which cost my father a fortune years ago. Now we use the house as a hideout, or a base, or just a retreat from the real world. As soon as the large wooden structure looms ahead, my spirits rise. The gorgeous green hills, the snowcapped mountains, and the lake have a calming effect. It’s been hell the last few weeks, between keeping Finn a secret, discovering Kim is a traitor, and then the theft of the goods in our Russian warehouse. I’ve been spinning, and it’s about time I stopped.

When the car glides to a halt outside the chalet, I hurry into the house. Lena, my housekeeper, is in the kitchen getting dinner ready. The high-vaulted ceilings, huge windows, and wide-open living room, dining room, and kitchen make this area of the house one of my favorites.

“Smells delicious.” I kick off my heels and collapse into a plush leather couch.

“Long day?”

“Long life at this point.” I shrug off my blazer. “We’ll be having a guest join us.”

“Eric is on his way?”

I grimace. “Yes, but not him. Well, perhaps him. I’m going to try to convince him a hotel makes more sense.”

Eric won’t agree, but the discussion was worth making him understand he’s not wanted.

“I need the room furthest from mine, the one with an attached bathroom, for my guest.”

Lena raises her eyebrows as she stirs something in a pot on the stove. She’s eleven years older than me and still as beautiful as the day I met her. Snow White comes to mind. Lena’s worked for my family for so long she sometimes treats me more like her child than her employer. She started just after my brother died. My dad consoled himself with this chalet… and Lena.

“Is this guest a man?”

“He is.”

“Would that person be the fugitive the FBI is searching for? A certain Finn Donaghey?”

I pucker my lips and turn away.

“He can’t return to America.” Lena comes around the island and perches on one of the couches across from me.

“I know.” I stare at the beams running across the ceiling. “I’m getting him on his feet.”

“In your house.”

“Yes.”

The heat of Lena’s gaze is palpable, but I won’t meet it. She’s wondering what else I’ll do to get him on his feet. But I’ve been down that route with Finn before, and I don’t intend to go there again. My father taught me men can’t be faithful. That kind of loyalty isn’t in their DNA. My engagement experiment with Eric proved I can’t turn a blind eye. At least not anymore.

“I’m not a twenty-eight-year-old girl addicted to bad boys and danger. I’ve grown up. I’m a forty-five-year-old woman who knows better.”

A smile is in Lena’s voice when she says, “Let’s hope so.” She rises and goes back to the kitchen to stir her pot. “He’s a fugitive from the FBI. That’s not a life for anyone. Certainly not the head of an international arms company who likes to pretend she’s squeaky clean.”

I sink deeper into the couch and put my feet on the coffee table. Pretending might not be an option about a lot of things.

Chapter Three

Finn

Ihold the buzzer again. Eve pokes her head in the door and doesn’t quite suppress her sigh.

“Come fluff my pillows.”

She raises her eyebrows.

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