Hunter glanced at Carlotta sleeping in the rearview mirror. “Now that he’s home from his latest mission, he’ll welcome the company, honey.”

In fact, they might be good for one another. At the very least, they would make steadfast friends, and no one could ever have too many of those.

“I hate to spring this on him. I’m sure he has better things to do than babysit.”

“The Colonel needs to slow down, and this will give him a reason. He has plenty of operatives willing to do his work for him, and he continues to globetrot to the shitholes of the world, chasing an adrenaline rush.” He had nothing else to come home to—and hadn’t since he’d let his wife walk out the door.

“Thank you.” Kata finally turned to him, grabbed his hand, and squeezed. “For . . . back there. For putting Gordon in his place. I really appreciate it.”

Hunter wished he could do more. “He deserved it. I wanted to pound his face into the ground, but he’s the kind of weasel who would only call the police. And the entire incident would upset your mother, I suspect.”

“Very much. I can tell the restraint cost you.” A faint smile lifted her grim face. “Thanks.”

Sliding his thumb across her soft hand, Hunter gathered his thoughts, then sent her a solemn stare. “I hope you know I’d never treat you like Gordon.”

Kata swallowed, looked away. “I know you’d never purposely demean me or want me to feel weak. But, like Gordon, you want me all to yourself. Eventually, I fear that I’d . . . let you have your way.”

Just as he’d suspected. “I’m possessive, honey. I don’t deny it. But I’d never want you isolated and unhappy. And if I ever had so little respect for you, I’d end the marriage. But I suspect you’d do that long before matters became that bad.”

She blinked and pressed her lips together, fighting tears. “You’re not understanding. I’m not afraid of you; I’m afraid of me. A part of me would love giving myself over to you totally, the way my mother seems to enjoy at times. I won’t lie, I love having your attention. You make me feel special. But your intensity terrifies me. And after sex . . . I’m always afraid of how much I’ve given you. I couldn’t live with myself if I lost my spine for good.”

Kata knew that he wasn’t like Gordon, but Hunter had no fucking idea how to assure her that she wasn’t like her mother.

He didn’t have a lot of time left with her; what they had was ticking down quickly. As much as he wanted to give her the full-court press and totally make her his in every way, she wasn’t ready. As afraid as she was—clearly with cause—he wondered if she ever would be.

But he couldn’t give up.

“What happens between us sexually has no reflection on the rest of our life. I have at least another six months on this contract. Another eight years in the navy if I want to retire with benefits. The reality is, I’d be leaving you in charge of our lives when I’m overseas. I couldn’t do that unless I know you’re strong and capable, which you are. You’d never, ever let me take away your job, your friends, your car, your phone, your free will . . . And I would never ask you to give those up. Would I like you to have a safer job? Yes. Would I like you to avoid Ben? Yes. Would I force you to do without either for the rest of your life? Never.”

“But I have this insane urge to please you that I’ve never felt. I don’t want to give up either right now, but eventually . . .” She shrugged.

The shame in her voice made him ache. He didn’t see her ever giving up what she needed in life. But she had to learn that. He had to help her. Hunter gripped the wheel, his mind racing. He’d have to think on that. Maybe more information would help him know which way to turn.

“Why did you ask Ben for a ménage for your birthday?”’

Kata blinked, the question clearly surprising her. “I didn’t, per se. I told him that it was one of my fantasies. This was months before my birthday. He told me that he’d try to make it happen. Then you showed up and . . .”

Hunter winced. He’d stomped in the middle and busted up the situation.

“Why did you want it?”

“It’s . . .” She shrugged, looked out the window again. “Not important.”

But something told him it was. “We have a couple of hours to kill until we reach my dad’s, and your mom is going to sleep for a while, since we gave her that codeine cough medicine. If it’s important to you, it’s important to me. Please.”

“Wow, a ‘please’ from you?” she teased, then sighed. “I guess I should have known Ben wouldn’t really understand, and it’s probably a dumb fantasy . . .”

“How did Ben not understand? He arranged the ménage. I’m the one who derailed it.” And he’d taken great pleasure doing it.

She squirmed in her seat. “It wasn’t really a ménage I wanted. I had this fantasy of a man I was with . . . giving me to someone else. Like, demanding that I be with someone of his choosing because he thought I was so sexy and amazing that he wanted to show me off, and I wanted to please him so badly that I let him. It’s dumb.”

Shock pinged through his system. The depth of her submissive nature stunned him. “Not if that’s what you wanted.”

She might fight his commands because she wasn’t accustomed to being under anyone’s control and didn’t know where and how to draw the line, but to learn that she wanted to be so utterly owned by a man that she could be shared . . . That was into slave territory. Hunter had no interest in sharing, but her words confirmed everything he believed about her true desires. She saw submission as a weakness, but she needed this on a core level. Somehow, she must see that succumbing to her needs didn’t make her a doormat. But understanding that could only happen when she accepted herself and learned to trust him.

“It’s never going to happen, so it doesn’t matter. Let’s just drop it.” She withdrew her hand and looked away as if she suddenly found the dark, empty road fascinating.

“How long have you had this fantasy?”

She shrugged.

Hunter turned a stern glower her way. “I expect an answer now, or I will stop this car and take you over my knee. I don’t care if passersby see.”

She gasped. Her breath came more rapidly. Jesus, she was already aroused. So was he.

“Fine. I’ve had the thought for about seven years. I read a book once where a man shared his girlfriend with his best friend, and . . .” She shrugged. “It just stuck with me.”

“Were you excited about the scene Ben had set for you?”

“Being touched by two guys at once was something I’d always been curious about. But in my head, since he’d arranged it, he was supposed to take control. But he didn’t. He was too drunk, and that’s not his style. Then you totally overwhelmed me, and I forgot about the silly fantasy. I got lost in you and your demands. So that’s that. Can we drop the subject?”

“All right.” For now.

“Tell me why you agreed to Ben’s proposition.”

“He told me you were very hot.” Hunter shrugged. “But you were more than I expected. For years, I’ve wanted a submissive woman I hadn’t met in a club. So many of them are jaded or head cases or so damaged that they want to be abused. I wanted to meet a strong woman . . . with kink. I never imagined that I’d meet Mrs. Perfect-for-Me.”

She smiled wanly. “Who would have thought we’d wind up here? Amazing that a week ago I didn’t know you even existed.”

Ditto that. She’d changed his life completely. Hunter didn’t want it any other way. He wouldn’t ask if she regretted marrying him; it was too soon for that. But he could tell her how he felt and hope that she understood.

“I am glad we’re here. You’re everything I’ve wanted.”

She turned to him with a furrowed brow and an expression he could only call puzzled amazement. “You’re not afraid of anything—marriage, my stepfather, my emotional baggage. If I were a braver woman . . .” She smiled sadly, then sighed.

“You are a brave woman. Submission takes courage, and you’ve given me more raw honesty in mere days than some subs manage to ever give. Don’t give up on us.”

“I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to handle this. It would be better if you signed the papers.”

Hell no. Never in a fucking million years. “Better for who?”

“Both of us, but you’re not listening to me.” Kata looked away.

Because she was wrong.

A ballad turned low filled some of the silence. Hunter had never paid that much attention to music. Now, he felt the singer’s maudlin ache down to his bones. He had hungered for Kata’s touch for a long, lonely time without knowing it. He did need her love. What the hell was he going to do if he couldn’t convince her to believe in them before he left?

“What was our wedding like?” she asked softly.

Despite the turn of his thoughts, Hunter smiled. “Loud. Crazy. Christi and Mick married right before us.”

“Who?”

He laughed. “The couple we met in the bar. During the ceremony, the officiant kept rubbing his eyes, complaining that he’d pulled a double shift with a hangover. His assistant turned the music up loud, either to keep him awake or annoy the hell out of him.” He chuckled again. “Elvis tunes at a Vegas wedding. How cliché is that? But I don’t regret it.”

Kata didn’t say a word, just stared out the windshield, as if she were imagining the scene.

He frowned. “Did you have a dream wedding in mind?”

Her expression turned wistful. “I think most women do. I wanted to wear white and look beautiful. I wanted my brother to walk me down the aisle, with my mom and sister beaming in the first row. I wanted to hold a big bouquet of white roses, have a long train, and meet a man at the altar who’s crazy in love with me.”

If he could keep them together, Hunter vowed that, someday, he’d make that dream come true. “At least you got the last part right, honey.” He reached out, grabbed her hand. “I love you. I know you have feelings for me, too, that scare you, but I think we can work everything out.”

“How? We’re running from a killer, my mother is sick, we don’t see eye to eye, and what we have scares me half to death. You’re leaving town and—”

Hunter leaned over and planted his lips on hers, silencing her. “Window dressing, all of it. We’re going to find the killer. Your mother will recover. We’ll get along just fine once you realize we’re perfect for each other. There’s no reason for you to be scared. As for me leaving, yeah. But I’ll be back. It’s that simple.”

She gnawed on her lip. “Hey, is that the golden arches up there? I’m starving.”

A not-so-subtle change of subject. But pushing her now would be counterproductive. Four days wasn’t a long time for anyone to fall in love, be comfortable with a new sexual lifestyle, and overcome years of relationship fear. She needed time. Hunter glanced at the clock, then stifled his urge to curse. He shipped out in seventy-two hours. They’d come a long damn way in a short period of time. And he prayed they’d make it . . .

But his hope was beginning to dim.

KATA swallowed nervously as Hunter ushered her mother into the darkened house on the outskirts of Tyler, Texas. As they entered the classic southern brick house with large windows, a tall shadow fell over the threshold, same height and build as Hunter. Same haircut, same mien. This man also looked handsome as hell, but drawn, almost haunted. Would Hunter look like that in twenty years if she left and he never found love again?

“Son.” The man relaxed, as if he’d just identified the person entering his house as a non-threat. “Glad you’re here.”

“Colonel, this is Mrs. Buckley.” He nodded to Mamá, who looked so tiny in his arms.

“Carlotta,” her mother smothered a cough. “I don’t mean to intrude. If this is inconvenient—”

“It’s not. Call me Caleb.” He addressed Hunter. “Set her on the sofa. I’ll take her up to her room when she’s ready.”

The Colonel even sounded like Hunter, a bit gruff, very to the point. Kata lingered in the doorway. Was leaving her mother here really a good idea? It was doubtful that Gordon would find her or fuck with someone as intimidating as the Colonel, but could Mamá recover with a terse stranger hovering?

“Will do, sir,” Hunter said.

As soon as he moved to do his father’s bidding, she sensed more than saw the Colonel’s gaze zero in on her. Kata’s heart stuttered. Though she couldn’t see his face clearly through the shadows, something about his stance said he wasn’t pleased.

The Colonel stepped forward finally, the foyer lights spilling across his face. God . . . it really was like looking at Hunter in twenty years. Tawny hair, though his had sprinkles of gray. Blue, blue eyes. Attractive, hard, demanding.