Veronica touched her face. “Stay on that frequency. I’m not going anywhere. Not until you ask me to.”
Kathleen smiled at her. Veronica hadn’t said she loved her back, but she hadn’t said she didn’t.
That was enough for the moment.
They stayed out until the light began to turn gold again. As they walked back, Veronica’s arm brushed hers now and then, and neither of them said much, but there was something easy in the air between them.
Back at the cabin, Kathleen lit the lamp while Veronica restoked the fire. They made dinner slowly—Kathleen chopping vegetables, Veronica sautéing them with rice and the garlic bulb from her house. They ate cross-legged on the rug with plates in their laps and shared a single bottle of red wine, passing it back and forth.
Later, after the plates were cleared and the fire had burned low, Kathleen stood by the window, looking out into the trees.
Veronica came up behind her and wrapped her arms around her waist. “What are you thinking?”
Kathleen leaned back against her. “I’m trying to remember every detail. I want to be able to close my eyes and see this place. In case?—”
“In case we can’t come back?”
“In case it doesn’t last.”
Veronica turned her gently, tilting her face up. “Hey, don’t talk like that.”
Kathleen kissed her, tentative at first, then deeper. Veronica responded slowly, tenderly, coaxing rather than demanding. They moved toward the bed as the firelight flickered and shadows shifted on the walls.
This time, there was no hesitation. No firsts to be bridged, no uncertainty to push through. Kathleen’s hands found Veronica easily. She wasn’t practiced but she was getting better. Each touch was a question and a declaration. Enthralled, she fondled Veronica’s breasts, watching her reaction.
Veronica answered with her body, arching into her. “You’re breathtaking, Kath,” she whispered.
With a sense of urgency now, their eyes locked. They stroked each other until, finally, they shuddered with pleasure as they climaxed together. The sensations running through Kathleen became overwhelming and she buried her face in Veronica’s neck. They lay for a while tangled together, skin warm, breaths slowing.
Kathleen whispered in awe, “This feels like home.”
Veronica pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “Then we’ll carry it with us.”
They fell asleep in silence, the fire crackling low, and the soft rhythm of the forest outside echoing the steady beat of their hearts.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Marise woke before the sun crested the treetops, the pale morning light brushing across the wooden walls of the cabin. Kathleen lay curled beside her, her breath soft and her body warm. For a moment, Marise simply lay there, eyes fixed on the ceiling, listening to the hush of the forest beyond the windows.
Recalling Kathleen’s declaration:I think I’m in love with you,sent her stomach curling in knots.
Marise had said nothing. She wanted to, but what could she say.I want this too, but we’re poles apart? I’m falling for you and that terrifies me?
She stared at the line of light edging the ceiling. Kathleen deserved honesty, and all Marise had given her was lies. She didn’t know yet that she had gone into the lab, had befriended Ted in an attempt to find out her secrets.
Kathleen shifted slightly in sleep, murmuring something unintelligible, and Marise’s chest ached with guilt. Her parents would be horrified if they knew. If they found out their brilliant, reclusive daughter had fallen in love with an escort. And worse, someone who had been paid to spy on her, who had lived off the secrets of men and women who never asked questions.
Marise rolled onto her side, away from Kathleen and stared blankly into space.
What she felt now for Kathleen was serious. It had stopped being about the contract a long time ago.
Kathleen didn’t know that; she didn’t even know her real name.
The irony wasn’t lost on Marise. She’d stripped down every layer of someone else’s fraud, exposed corruption and greed at the highest levels, yet she couldn’t speak the one truth that mattered most.
Not for a while.
She slipped out of bed quietly, grabbed her phone from the chair where her jeans hung, and stepped over to the kitchen window, where a faint signal still clung to the satellite router.
