Page 56 of Dangerous Secrets

He’d felt his death, or at least the possibility of his death. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt it, but it was definitely the strongest death vibe he’d ever had.

The vague feeling he would die young sharpened, came into focus.

For the first time in his life, Nick was afraid to die. Terrified, even. If he went, Charity would be alone. He’d spent enough time with her to know that she was not protected in any meaningful way. Christ, even her house was unprotected. There was absolutely nothing around Charity, nothing to shield her from the evil of the world. From Worontzoff or his minions, when he turned on her, as he inevitably would.

Her family was an elderly, very frail couple who relied on her to help them. She wasn’t equipped in any way to save herself, if he wasn’t around. She didn’t have the mental tools to sense danger and defend herself.

Charity was light itself—goodness and grace, the very qualities which were the first to go when evil stepped out from the shadows. Bad guys focused in like a laser beam on people like Charity, wanting to wipe them from the face of the earth. Because they could, because the Charities of this world represented something they could never have and never control.

Charity could never be bought, never be forced. She’d die first and it was that had Nick terrified.

This buzz of imminent danger Nick was feeling was making him nauseous. He’d sweated the problem all morning.

For the time being, he was at her side. As long as he was alive, no one was going to touch her. But suppose he wasn’t alive? How the fuck could he keep Charity safe if he bought it? How could he protect her, even from beyond the grave? It rolled around in his head, a dilemma with sharp edges that sliced, drew blood.

Though last night he’d fucked her frantically, for hours, when he finally quit because she was exhausted, he still couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t even come near it.

The early morning hours had been spent on his back, staring wide-eyed at the shadows in the ceiling, Charity snuggled up close to his side, head on his shoulder. He couldn’t hear her breathing and would have panicked if he hadn’t felt her narrow rib cage slowly rising and falling.

Such a thin line, between life and death. He’d seen countless men and some women cross it. In battle, the line was crossed in a micro-second. You were there one moment, a fully alive, thinking human being and the next you were meat.

Charity was crossing a mine-field, with no one to look out for her. She could cross that line between life and death in a heart-beat.

Nick couldn’t stand even the thought of it. His head churned uselessly throughout the night, as he ran through improbable scenarios in his mind.

And then, as the sky turned from black to slate then pewter, a solution hit him. There was a way to keep her safe, even if he was snuffed. One thing he could do that would protect her no matter what happened to him.

Marry her.

Or rather, Nicholas Ames would marry her. Didn’t make any difference that Nicholas Ames didn’t exist. The important thing was that a member of the Unit, a federal agent, had married her.

It was against every rule that existed, even illegal, since he’d be using a fake ID. It was unheard of, in the Unit, and in every law enforcement agency in existence. Undercover agents seduced, lied, cheated and killed. But they didn’t marry, not while undercover.

The shit would hit the fan back in DC. If he lived, they’d throw the book at him, his teammates would chew his ass outgood, he’d probably have to retire in disgrace, but by God . . . it would work. Oh yeah.

If he got whacked, the Unit and all its resources, his team-mates, even his boss would provide a shield for Charity, protect her. The Unit took care of its own. By marrying her, he would make Charity one of theirs. As soon as he announced the marriage, he’d make sure they understood that.

Charity was staring at him, pretty mouth an O, light gray eyes wide.

“I—” She cleared her throat. “I beg your pardon? What did you say?”

Her astonishment brought a smile to his face, a lightness he hadn’t felt all morning. The way ahead was full of darkness and traps, but there might be a path through it, if he could just feel his way.

Nick took her left hand and slowly removed the supple kid glove. Her skin was soft, warm. He brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed her fingers, watching her eyes, choosing his words carefully.

“I know this sounds crazy, honey. We’ve only known each other a week. But it’s been a . . . very intense week. I know that I’ve never felt this way before about any other woman, and that’s not going to change. In my job, I’m forced to take fast decisions and so far, they’ve all been good ones. This one is a good one and time won’t change it in any way. I don’t want to wait. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

What was left of it, anyway.

Nick watched her carefully. Her hand had gone slack in his, then had tightened. What was she thinking?

“Marriage,” she whispered, eyes searching his.

It sounded crazy to him, too. But he had to convince her. Now that he’d come up with his plan, he couldn’t wait to put it into effect.

He nodded. “Marriage. Now.”

Her hand jerked in his. “Now? You mean—right now?” She looked at the gray courthouse wall. “Just . . . walk in and get married?”

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