Amsterdam, Netherlands, April 2017

Olivia jolted awake, a shiver rippling through her. Pitch darkness abated slowly to faintly luminous gray-blue as consciousness fully returned. The soft light of the moon crept in through the partially opened French doors of her hotel room balcony. A cool draft reached her and she shivered again. It had not been just the dream that had awakened her.

She wrapped herself in a shawl and stepped out onto the balcony.

"You're back," she said, relief splitting the second word into two syllables. She opened the shawl to wrap her arms around the tall figure before her.

The figure flinched just slightly, hoping Olivia didn't notice.

"Jake, you're hurt!" she whispered, turning him at the waist.

"I'm okay," he quickly assured her. "Things got...complicated. But it's over now. Job's done."

She searched his expressive eyes a moment, inwardly cringing at the darkness behind them that he tried so hard to hide from her. She reached her hands up to cradle his face gently, moving a thumb over his swollen, split bottom lip. "Do I even wanna know?"

"No," he said with the arrogant grin she loved. "But trust me, the other guys look much worse."

Olivia couldn't help her tiny smile, sighing as relief melted away the tension in her body and she relaxed in his arms.

"I don't like sleeping alone."

The pain in her voice caused a knot of guilt to lodge itself in Jake's throat and his voice was gruff when he spoke again. "I know. I'm sorry, Liv. I came back as soon as I could."

She pulled away to stand at the beautiful wrought-iron banister of their balcony. She gripped the cool metal rail and looked out over the still water of the Keizersgracht Canal. "I'll be happy when you don't have to take these jobs anymore," she said softly.

Jake sighed wearily and came up behind her, wrapping her in his protective arms. He didn't say anything for a few moments. Instead, he rested his chin on her head, her mop of soft, corkscrew curls tickling his skin, and enjoyed the peace and quiet with her.

He'd make no promises and she knew it. Tonight's mark would take care of them for a few months while they mapped their future together. It's true they had plenty saved up, but with Olivia out of work and no idea if she'd start over again, they needed a steady source of income.

"Any more nightmares?" he asked her quietly.

"No."

"Olivia…" he said, incredulous.

"Nothing like before," she said quickly. "I made myself wake up before it got...bad."

She felt him nod.

"Good. Then it's working."

"I guess it is," she said wryly. "How fortunate for us that my mother is so resourceful." Olivia couldn't keep the bitterness from creeping into her tone. "A doctor to exorcise me of my demons, and a little black book of crooks for you to call whenever our stomachs start growling."

Jake lifted his head then, taking her chin in his hand to angle her face toward his. "When have I ever let you go hungry?" he said softly. He didn't wait for her response. "She's helping us, Liv. Whatever you think of her...whatever she's done in the past...you have to let that go."

"I know," she whimpered, her eyes watering. She was still getting accustomed to letting him see her cry. "I thought I could handle it but...he's dead, Jake! Did she really have to-"

"Yes," Jake said, cutting her off with his steely tone. He winced his apology into her eyes as tears streamed down her face.

Maya had sent Eli to hell just a few weeks before. Jake hoped that Eli was skewered in the hottest pit of that woeful place; turning on a spit as white-hot flames slowly licked at his charring flesh. As much as he'd hated him though, Jake knew that Olivia had loved him-and still did.

He muttered a curse and lifted her into his arms to carry her back into their room.

She felt so tiny, so fragile in his arms as he sat at the edge of the bed and held her. She shook for several long minutes, her tears seeping into Jake's already sweat-dampened shirt as her muffled sobs slowly ebbed. She was exhausted, and just a few minutes later, she'd drifted to sleep.

The first light of morning began to flood the room when Olivia woke again, this time perfectly calm. She opened her eyes to see Jake grinning down at her, his head propped on one hand. He'd obviously showered. His face was slightly bruised, but clear of the dried blood she'd seen last night, and his long, lean body was unencumbered by clothes.

"You were snoring," he said, his big hazel eyes dancing in amusement.

She groaned.

"Don't worry, it was cute," he told her lovingly. "Everything about you is cute." He took a few of her curls and gave them a quick tug, watching in admiration as they snapped back quickly. "I love your hair like this. It's so soft. I want to stuff my pillow with it and sleep on it."

Olivia fixed him with a blank stare.

"Creepy?"

"A little." But she smiled. "Maybe it was cute too," she admitted with a grin. "But you don't look so hot right now," she quipped, tracing a cut at his brow with her finger.

Mischief darkened his eyes at her teasing and sent a shiver through her body.

"Liar," he said gruffly, then lowered his lips to hers.

They had a natural rhythm, often taking turns at the helm when they came together this way. But right here, right now, Jake felt her surrender complete control as he inhaled her soft sighs.

They savored each other's warmth through the soft fullness of their lips pressing gently together and apart, together and apart; slanting slowly and sweetly as they shared the same air. Their noses rubbed together and smushed each other's cheeks in their eagerness to drink each other in. Neither of them knew how many minutes went by, or when their long, lazy kisses turned frantic and sloppy-only that they needed to come up for air…

"Off," Jake commanded with a ragged breath as he pulled at her t shirt impatiently.

Olivia reluctantly pulled her fingers from his hair and raised her arms to allow him to lift her shirt up over her head. Immediately, he filled his hands with her, gently palming her breasts as his mouth hovered near hers. She watched him watch her as she squirmed, her beautiful face twisting up in pleasure as he worked her over. She moaned again when she saw his eyes dilate to near-black with lust. Her response was immediate as she felt a rush of wetness flow from her body. She trailed his lower lip with her tongue and tugged it between her teeth and he growled, pulling her beneath him to replace his hands with his mouth.

She gasped and arched her back, desperate to get closer.

"You're so beautiful, Liv," he said huskily, burying his face in her neck.

She smoothed her small hands over the muscles of his arms as he hovered above her, admiring the sinuous curve of his shoulders. "So are you, she whispered."

He raised his head to look at her, needing to see if the emotion in her voice would be reflected in the bottomless deep brown of her eyes. He shuddered. It was.

Her parted lips followed her fingers to kiss the raised skin of each scar, each bruise, and trace it with her tongue. His broad chest and hard stomach bore the brunt of them, evidence of the years of danger and violence he'd suffered in her father's name. He sucked in a hard breath as her lips met his stomach, the muscles contracting as she swirled her tongue into his shallow belly button. Olivia looked up at him when she found the long, purple bruise that stretched from his lower abdomen and around his waist to his back.

"Jake," she whispered in horror.

"It's nothing," he promised, bringing her fingers to his lips for a kiss. "Can't even feel it."

"Now who's lying?" she asked with a smile that made his chest hurt.

"Turns out I can take a kick," he muttered, and then he was kissing her again.

The world outside became mute. There was no sound but their breaths, their sighs and moans. There was no air between them except what was dragged into their lungs as every part of them pressed to get closer. Olivia felt one of his hands slip beneath her hips and pull her to him, and he groaned as she ground against him instinctively. She opened her eyes to look directly into his as she grabbed his other hand and brought it down, silently begging him to touch her. They did not speak again.

"What will come of us, Jake?" Olivia asked wistfully as they lay together later that night.

They were snuggled close, their bodies curled together in a comfortable spoon as Jake's hand absentmindedly caressed her tummy.

"What will come of us?" he repeated, intrigued by her tone.

She twisted around to face him, needing to look into his eyes. "You're an only child," she said matter of factly. "So am I, and I can't think of anyone less fit to be a mother than I am...so what will happen when we die? What will come of us?" she asked again.

Jake couldn't see her very clearly, but he didn't need to. He'd studied her every feature, hard-wired her every expression into his brain, for years...until it felt as if she'd drawn him into herself and he could feel exactly what she was feeling with only a look, or the sound of her voice, or the pattern of her breathing. He traced a delicate cheekbone with the back of his fingers and smiled.

"We'll never die. I'll be Icarus and you'll be the sun. I'll fly as close to you as I can without melting the wax on my wings. You'll disappear to the other side of the world every night, and I'll be waiting for you to come back in the morning. I'll tell you about the dreams I had while you were away, and you'll lie to reassure me that no one else had fallen in love with you while I slept. We'll spend every day together until there are no more days."

When he finished, he heard Olivia crying softly in the dark.

"Liv?" he asked, worried that she was overwhelmed by the last few days. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she choked, sobbing again. "I love you, you idiot."

Jake was stunned. He knew, he knew that she loved him. He'd suspected so for some time, but he could never bring himself to believe it fully because he'd always shared her heart with someone else. For years-agonizing, heartbreaking, infuriating years-he'd been relegated to the smaller portion of her heart while the former President of the United States lay claim to the rest. Jake had hated himself for loving her with everything in him, surviving on just that small portion as though it were life's water...because it was. Everything else in his life, his very life itself, had been cracked and barren from drought. And then one day, finally, he asked her to choose him, love him, be with him...and she did.

"Jake?" she asked.

Her voice was barely above a whisper but he could still hear the hint of insecurity in her tone. Because of him. Because she loved him and she was afraid...of what? He'd told her so many times and still she needed reassurance. Jake didn't even think before he spoke next.

"Marry me, Liv."

"Wha-?"

"Marry me, Olivia," he said, sitting up and pulling her into his lap.

"Are you out of your mind?" she asked, completely serious.

"Yes," he answered simply. "But I love you. I've been waiting for you for so long that I can't remember a time when I didn't love you," he said solemnly. "And since it's such a momentous occasion, I thought this was a good time to ask."

There was a long pause, several seconds of time where the only things they could hear were the sounds of their breathing, and what they thought might be their hearts beating their way out of their chests. But what is a second? Who determines how long that really is? To anyone outside of that room, Jake waited for Olivia's answer for five, maybe ten seconds. For Jake, who was trying his hardest to calm his erratic heartbeat, it was an eternity of "one one-thousand, two one-thousand, three one-thousand, four one-thou-"

"Yes," Olivia said quietly, not moving a muscle.

She felt his whole body tense-his thighs beneath her, his arms around her...she thought he'd stopped breathing.

"Jake? Did you hear me? I'll marry you," she said again, louder this time.

"I heard you," he said in disbelief. "I'm just making sure I'm not dead."

Olivia's breathless giggle whispered across his face, cooling the stream of tears he hadn't realized was there.

She brought her hand to his chest, right across his heart. "Not yet." She grinned. She reached for his face with both hands and pressed a lingering kiss to his lips.

Bordeaux, France, October 2020

Olivia wiped the beads of sweat from her brow that were persisting even now, after the sun had finished its slow descent that evening. She smiled through her exhaustion, as the final day of the grape harvest had come to a close at last. She couldn't watch a sunrise or sunset without thinking of her husband the night he'd proposed in their little canal house room a few years ago. Had it really been that long? She hoped that memory would stay with her even in old age.

"Papa!"

An elated shriek filled the air, piercing through her reverie and reminding her that old age was still very far off. She rose with her full crate, smiling as one of the last workers approached to relieve her of her burden and load it onto the back of a tractor with the others.

"Ok," he said in a thick French accent. "Je m'en vais. Bonne soirée, Madame."

"Mille fois merci, Charles," she said, her eyes shining with gratitude.

He shook his head, raising his hands as if to suggest that the very idea of her thanking him was ridiculous. "Il n'y a pas de quoi," he said quickly. "À demain."

Olivia nodded. "À demain, Charles.

No sooner had he driven away, then Olivia could see the owner of the shrill voice from moments ago babbling away in the arms of the man she loved as they made their way to her from their little chateaux.

"Papa, Papa, PAPA!" the beautiful cherub of a child yelled happily.

"We could use her at headquarters," Jake cracked as bent to kiss Olivia.

"Oh, I think we can wait a few years before we introduce her to those hard asses at Interpol," Olivia said. "I want to keep her innocent for a while."

"Ass, ass, ass!" the little one parroted, soft brown eyes just a shade lighter than her mother's shining as she stretched out pudgy arms.

"Oooohhhhh," Jake teased as he handed their daughter to Olivia.

Olivia rolled her eyes and started toward the door. "Come on, Nanette," she cooed. "Time for bed."