Sam stood in the center of the rose garden and bent her head to a fragrant red bloom. She plucked a single petal and rubbed it against her cheek. She felt rather than heard Jack come up behind her and turned to smile at him.

"They're lovely."

Jack reached out to tuck a wisp of hair behind her ear. "You're lovely."

Her smile widened and she was sure she was blushing. Part of her felt like a schoolgirl with a crush and another part of her wondered exactly what the hell she was doing here. They'd left the motel and come straight to Jack's mother's house. Sam had been apprehensive about meeting Miriam, but she'd been friendly and welcoming, if a little eccentric. Overwhelmed by the events of the past week, Sam had escaped to the rose garden for a moment's peace.

"She likes you," Jack said.

Sam recalled Tom saying something similar about his parents – she now knew it hadn't been true. Instead of saying anything to Jack, she stepped into his arms and laid her head on his shoulder. He was warm against her. She drew in a breath; he smelled of tobacco and something else . . . aftershave. Slowly, surely, she raised her head. Keeping her eyes locked on his, she closed the distance between their mouths.

How fitting, she thought, that we should kiss in a rose garden.

The kiss deepened, grew hotter . . . more urgent. She wound her fingers in his hair and pressed herself closer to him.

"Mom?"

She tore her mouth from his, her breathing heavy. Raising her fingers to his cheek in a light caress, she smiled.

"Mom?"

"This way, Chlo'." She stepped out of Jack's arms just before Chloe reached them. Flaunting her relationships in front of Chloe was something she'd never done. She couldn't help chuckling; she'd just thought of Jack in terms of a relationship. There was no doubt about it: she had officially lost her mind.

Chloe stopped a few feet short of Sam and didn't look at Jack. The look on her face made Sam's heart skip a beat. Chloe was clearly unhappy.

"Was there something you wanted, Chlo'?"

She shook her head. "I just wanted to know where you were."

"Okay." Sam glanced at Jack. "Lets talk a walk, Chloe."

Side by side, they walked in silence until they came to a large swimming pool. Sam noticed the excitement Chloe couldn't quite hide but didn't comment on it. She sat in one of the wrought iron chairs and watched Chloe bend down to feel the water. A bird sang from one of the trees and Sam raised her face to the sunshine. It was beautiful here.

Chloe stood, shaking droplets of water from her hand. She caught Sam watching her and tilted her head, matching her mother's gaze. In that second, she reminded Sam painfully of Tom.

"Come here a second." Sam gestured to the chair next to her. "Chlo', are you mad at me?"

Chloe stayed at the edge of the pool. "No, Mom. I just want to go home."

Sam sighed. How could she explain something so complicated to a nine-year-old? She wasn't sure she completely understood it herself. "Sweetie, we're not going home. We're going to stay here for a while and then—"

"I miss Angel. I miss my friends. Why can't we just go home?"

"I'm going to find us a new home. One without cameras everywhere. And no guards. Doesn't that sound good?"

"But then we won't be safe."

"Of course we'll be safe. Jack will be with us—" She hadn't known she was going to say that, and knew it was the wrong thing to say even before Chloe turned and ran into the house. She didn't follow her. Before she made things right with Chloe, she needed to sort things out in her own head.

Sam stood in the door to Chloe's room and watched her daughter sleep. She sighed. Chloe was so young and innocent. She deserved more than a life on the run. This was all so confusing.

Sam jumped in surprise at Jack's touch on her arm then smiled. "You need to stop sneaking up on me."

"Are you coming to bed?"

She looked at Chloe then slipped her arm through Jack's. "Yeah."

When they reached the bedroom, Sam took her time brushing her hair. She could see Jack moving around behind her by looking in the mirror.

This was absurd – so absurd it almost felt normal.

She put the brush down then took a deep breath before turning and walking to Jack. At the foot of the bed, she stopped and slowly unbuttoned her blouse and let it fall to the floor. Trembling, she unzipped her jeans and slid them down her hips. When she straightened, she saw Jack staring at her and smiled self-consciously.

"You're lovely." He reached out, his hand stopping short of actually touching her. She took his hand and stepped into him. There was something highly erotic about his fully clothed body against her bare skin. She didn't resist when he pulled her down onto the bed.

Each of his kisses branded her as his. She denied him nothing; permitting – craving – every single touch. He rolled her onto her back and raised himself to look at her. She reached up to pull his head down to hers.

This was different to before. This wasn't just fucking. This was . . . this was . . .

Making love?

No, he's a murderer!

But you love him, don't you?

She slipped her hands under his shirt and pushed the material up. She wanted to feel him against her. Ever obliging, he slipped the shirt off and cast it aside. He gently sucked her lower lip as he reached under her back to unclip her bra. She pressed herself closer and fumbled with his belt buckle. He lifted his hips to make it easier for her. A few seconds later, and his pants were on the floor, followed by his boxers.

Jack rolled over in his sleep and woke up when his outstretched arm touched a cool pillow instead of the warmth he was expecting. He opened his eyes. The spot Samantha had so recently occupied was empty except for a white piece of paper. He turned on the bedside lamp.

I'm sorry, Jack. Forgive me Sam had written in her even hand. The ink was smudged slightly by what Jack assumed were tears. He jumped out of bed and pulled on a robe before heading to Chloe's room.

Her bed was empty.

He hurried downstairs, his gut telling him what he didn't want to know. She couldn't be gone. Not after what had just happened between them.

Johnson had been his family's butler for as long as he could remember and he had always kept odd hours. Jack found him now, reading yesterday's newspaper in the kitchen.

"Where did she go?" he demanded.

Johnson looked up and calmly folded the paper. "She and the child got in a taxi about half an hour ago. She didn't say where she was headed."

Jack sighed. "What taxi?"

Johnson took a slip of folded paper from his pocket and handed it to Jack. "Can I make you some tea?"

Jack shook his head, already on his way to the phone. Half an hour. She couldn't have gone very far. He would find her. He had to find her.

This time, nothing would keep them apart.

TBC