Page 59 of Hero's Heart

He glanced over at her, his chest tightening. She looked so young and vulnerable curled up in the passenger seat, a stray lock of dark hair falling across her face. He resisted the urge to brush it back, not wanting to wake her.

She’d been through so fucking much. The stress on her system had been ridiculous.

Kidnapped…assaulted…running for her life time after time. They’d leaped over a fucking building today, for God’s sake. And yet the only thing she’d cried about was not being able to get back to that damned art textbook.

Sure, there had been good stressors too—all the time they’d spent in bed and enjoying each other. He hadn’t even tried to keep his hands off her since that first time she’d made it known she wanted him. She made him feel like he was twenty-five again himself instead of in his mid-forties.

But as amazing as their lovemaking had been, he knew even good stress was still stress. And between the trauma and the intimacy, Sloane’s mind and body had been put through the wringer nonstop.

He tightened his hands on the wheel again, jaw clenching. It killed him that he kept promising her safety, swearing each time was the last close call, only to have those Kozak bastards show up again like cockroaches. He couldn’t wait to get her to Barcelona, where they’d be well out of their enemy’s reach.

The tires crunched over gravel as Callum pulled the car to a stop just shy of the Ukraine border crossing. He killed the engine and headlights, casting a wary look through the windshield at the checkpoint ahead. A few guards milled about, but their stance was casual, unconcerned. It looked quiet, but he wasn’t going to take any chances.

He reached over to gently shake her shoulder. “Sloane, angel, time to wake up. We’re here.”

“Hmm?” She blinked drowsily, rubbing her eyes as she sat up straighter. “We made it to Odesa?”

“Not quite. We’re at the Ukraine border. And I’m afraid this is where we ditch this car.” He nodded toward the crossing. “No way we’re driving through without papers. If the Kozaks have half a brain, they’ll have eyes posted—not to mention official immigration isn’t going to let us through without passports.”

Sloane bit her lip, her gaze uncertainly following his. “So, what do we do?”

“We go on foot.” Callum was already opening his door, scanning the tree line that ran alongside the road. “Cut through the woods, bypass the checkpoint altogether. It’s probably a few miles to the closest town once we cross over.”

“You really think we can sneak across? Just like that?” Worry threaded through her tone as she climbed out to join him.

He forced a confidence he didn’t quite feel into his voice. “The Ukrainians have bigger problems right now than a couple of civilians slipping by. But we should hurry. Every second we stay here, the more of a chance we’ll be discovered.”

They got out of the car and melted into the sheltering darkness of the trees, picking their way through the brush. The uneven ground made the hike grueling, but Callum didn’t dare risk the exposure of the road. Sloane kept pace with him, without complaint, as always. He had no idea at what point they actually crossed into Ukraine, but it was without fanfare.

It took them a couple hours to reach the first sign of civilization on the other side. The little village was barely a blip, just a scattered handful of tired-looking buildings and weary people. But to Callum’s relief, he spotted a rusting sedan parked in front of what passed for the town market. It only took him a minute to get it started.

He was becoming ridiculously efficient at hot-wiring.

He pulled onto the road, keeping an eye out behind them. Nothing. They drove mostly in silence the rest of the way to Odesa. A wave of relief washed over him as he eventually spotted the ferry office up ahead.

Finally, something was going right. He pulled the car over and turned to Sloane. “Wait here. I’ll be right back with our documents.”

She nodded, exhaustion evident in the dark circles under her eyes. He hurried into the small building, keeping a wary eye out for any signs of trouble, both around him and the car. But the exchange went smoothly. The forged papers were right where Lincoln had said they would be at a receptionist’s desk. The folder felt reassuringly solid in Callum’s hands as he returned to the car.

“Ready?” He flashed Sloane an encouraging smile, holding up the documents. “Meet Eric and Angelica Johnson.”

Sloane took the passport he offered, a flicker of amusement crossing her face as she read the name. “Angelica, huh? Angel.” Her fingers drifted to the pendant at her neck. “It’s perfect.”

He watched her as she studied the passport, wishing he could do more for her.Withher. Wishing they could have a few weeks together without danger hounding them.

But right now, they needed to get on that ferry and out of this part of Europe.

They made their way to the ticket counter, his senses still on high alert as he scanned the crowd for any potential threats. But no one paid them any mind as they purchased their tickets for a sleeper cabin. The worker barely glanced at their documents, his eyes flicking knowingly between them. Clearly, he thought they were married.

Pretending to be a married couple should bother Callum, but it didn’t. He wasn’t sure how to process that, so he wasn’t even going to try.

Tickets in hand, they boarded the ferry, Callum ushering Sloane ahead of him. They lingered just inside the entrance as the other passengers filed on, Callum keeping watch until the boat finally pulled away from the dock.

As the shore receded behind them, he let out a long breath, some of the coiled tension leaving his shoulders. They’d made it. No one had followed them. For the first time in days, he let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, the worst was behind them.

“We should be golden now.” His hand found hers as they walked down the narrow hallway toward the sleeper berth. “The ferry doesn’t stop again until Barcelona tomorrow. Let’s go check out our cabin.”

The room was remarkably similar to their safe house—small and sparse, little more than a bed and a tiny attached bathroom. Not that that bothered him. He glanced over at Sloane and sawthe small smile playing at her lips. She was thinking the same thing.

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