Chapter Five

Devon's Past Returns

Bracing himself, he touched his fingers against hers. "And Iwasborn in Ireland. That part of me was real. A good cover identity should always be as close to the truth as possible."

"Then I'm very pleased to finally meet you, Mr Devon Miles." Carolyn smiled mistily as she managed to latch onto his hand before he could withdraw.

The length of his fingers curled around her much smaller ones involuntarily and he touched against the pulse beating rapidly beneath the soft skin of her inner wrist. The tip of his middle finger began to move lightly, unconsciously caressing across the tell-tale giveaway of her state of agitation and making her jump.

Warm colour flooded into Carolyn's cheeks, exposing her inner turmoil as she jerked her hand away, settling back in her lap with its twin. She looked down, not meeting his frowning gaze as she twisted her rings around and around her finger.

She jerked her chin toward the back seat. "And what about the lady who's lucky enough to be given those beautiful roses? Is she waiting for you to come home?"

"Yes…" Devon drew a long, steadying breath and expelled it roughly. "She is. But she's only a very dear friend. She's been having a few pre-wedding jitters. I thought the flowers would help to settle her nerves before the big day this weekend. Her fiancé is worried about her. It has been a stressful time."

He stared at her for a long moment. "I'm not married," he finally confessed. "I guess I never found the right time or enough time. My workload is impossible."

"I see." Carolyn looked up. "You always were so very thoughtful when we were together. I remember when you used to bring me flowers from Covent Garden…"

A strained silence settled between them. Was there anything left to say?Except goodbye...

"Can I drop you somewhere?" Devon repeated. "I really do have to get back to the office. And the bride-to-be. She'll be waiting."

What else could he say?There could be no future for them. Not now. She was still a married woman. Only no longer pretending it was to him.

"If that's what you want." Carolyn inhaled deeply, releasing her breath in a rush. "After I'd wasted years enduring his many pointless affairs, Ian finally left me over a year ago. Well, actually I threw him out and told him never to come back. I was so sick of his lies."

She shook her head. "Ian didn't even contest the divorce. He'd already found someone else. He's in New York trying to secure more funding to expand his company since he had to pay me out. Work was all he talked about. I doubt he noticed I was no longer there."

Her eyes tracked slowly back to Devon's. "I'm staying at the Beverly Wilshire while I'm looking for a house to buy. I've decided to stay here in LA." She waited, watching his expression for any trace of disgust or rejection.

Then she lifted her hands and stripped off her rings. She pushed them into a side pocket of her handbag and snapped it shut. Her long sigh of relief was audible.

"Carolyn…" Devon knew he should say no to her unspoken question.

He was deeply aware it would be the far greater part of valour to drive her to her hotel and wish her well. Kiss her soft cheek and leave her behind in the lobby, turn his back and walk away.

He had a wedding rehearsal he was already very late for and roses to deliver to a nervous bride-to-be who was waiting for his reassuring presence by her side. He had so many other places to be. People who needed and relied on him.

'Him!' Devon Miles, the head of FLAG.

Oh, Luciana…His gut clenched with agonised denial.

Despite all the rational dictates of his analytical mind, he became lost all over again in the translucent depths of her sea-green eyes. It was there that he could see both his past and his future. If only he dared reach out and grasp her offer with both hands.

'Impossible…' He closed my eyes briefly against the bleakness of knowledge.

He was being utterly selfish. There could be no place in his complicated life for her softness. No matter how much his heightened emotional state demanded he makes some space for her. Saving the world again and again required all his undivided attention.

And the inherent dangers involved in that were immense and the obstacles insurmountable. His long-buried past truly was a foreign country and there could be no going back.

'Make the break clean and make it now. She deserves that.'

"Devon?" she asked tentatively, watching him closely.

"The Beverly Wilshire, I believe you said…" he replied roughly as he replaced his sunglasses over his eyes before he reached to turn the key in the ignition. "I'll drop you off."

"Thank you…" Carolyn breathed gratefully, as he turned the car expertly to merge with the passing streams of traffic.

A strained silence settled between them until finally, Devon swung the car expertly from the line of traffic and brought it to a halt before the elegant façade of the Beverly Wilshire Hotel.

Carolyn wiped a hand across her eyes. She knew Devon wouldn't be coming up to her suite. They wouldn't be making up for lost time by getting lost once more in each other's arms.

He said he had other places to be and more important people to see. She was a loose end to be neatly tied up and put back where she belonged. In the past.

Devon had once told her about a weird guy's crazy experiment with a cat in a box and some kind of poison. If you didn't open the box, then you would never know if the animal was alive or dead.

Carolyn closed her eyes tight. She'd just opened the box to find the cat was long deceased as she'd feared. Now there could be no going back to the safety of not knowing and still nursing a tiny grain of hope.

The hotel's doorman hurried up to greet them, opening her door with a flourish to hand her out. She stood on the pavement waiting for Edward. 'Devon…'

He got out to circle the hood, quietly informing the attentive valet he wouldn't be staying. He said he was only here to see the lady safely inside. A generous tip changed hands and the valet touched the brim of his cap with two respectful fingers.

The man nodded. "I'll watch your car for you, Mr Miles. It'll be my pleasure."

"Thank you, Brent."

Devon took Carolyn's arm to escort her inside the lobby. She went without a fuss, stricken and unsure of what would happen next. He'd said he had a wedding rehearsal to get to and the bunch of beautiful yellow roses was slowly wilting on the back seat of his car. He didn't have time to waste on escorting her up to her suite.

Carolyn stopped and turned to face him. "Look, you really should be going. You need to get to that rehearsal. The young lady needs your support more than me. I'll be fine."

Her breathing hitched. "It's been so wonderful to see you again after all this time…"

On impulse, she went up onto her toes to kiss his cheek. He had to lean down to receive it. His innate courtesy made her want to cry all over again.

"She's one very lucky young lady," she whispered, staring at his mouth like she was a drowning woman, and he was her only hope of rescue.

"Stevie," he supplied with a deep frown as he studied her expression closely. "Her name is Stevie. She's getting married to Michael this weekend." He puffed out his chest ever so slightly, with obvious pride. "She's asked me to give her away. Her own father is dead."

He inhaled deeply. "Over the years, Michael has become like the son I never had. I'm very happy for both of them. They promised to name their first son after me."

"I'm glad…" Carolyn smiled through the sting of her unshed tears. "I couldn't think of a better man for such an important role. You'd better go. Goodbye… and thank you. It's been truly wonderful to see you again."

She kept herself from breaking down as she stepped back. One step, then another, turn, smile, give a small wave and walk away. Fast!

'Don't look back.' She stuffed the crazy man's daft cat firmly back into its box and slammed the lid shut.

But, of course, she wasn't quick enough. She had hesitated for a split second of indecision. Devon's reflexes were always much faster than hers.

His long arm reached out before she'd gone more than two steps and pulled her back to him. "Come with me. Please. Come and meet them. I would like you to do that. There's plenty of room for one more guest. It won't take long."

The invitation seemed to have been dragged from him. He grimaced wryly and Carolyn had her answer. He wasn't going to ask her. He had intended to let her walk away.

"I…" She inhaled deeply.

She could easily see many traps and more than a few hidden dangers. How would he introduce her? As a long-lost lover? A fellow Nazi hunter? Even though she was never very good at it.

All that cloak and dagger had been fun, for a while. She got sick of the need for lies and half-truths. Devon seemed to thrive on it as if he'd been born to constantly pretend, he was someone else.

"As an old friend from back in England, after the war," he supplied in a low tone as if he'd just read her mind in her consternated gaze.

Which was another trick he'd perfected. The uncanny knack of seeing things she didn't want him to know. It sent a shiver up and down her spine. Whenever he looked deep into her eyes, he made her feel as if she was the only woman he could ever love. Had that also been a convenient lie?

"Blast…" she said softly, using a long-forgotten word she'd learned from him. "You'd already made up your mind to leave, hadn't you? It's all right if you want to change your mind. I understand."

"I've only just found you again," he explained brusquely. "And no, I don't want to change my mind."

He looked up toward the front doors of the hotel. "But you're right. I do have other places I need to be. You will come with me and that's the end of the matter."

Carolyn felt like snapping to attention and saluting. Could she deny his command and walk away? She doubted it. Her traitorous feet seemed rooted to the middle of the expensive lobby carpet. They turned on their own accord and meekly followed Devon's lead, all the way back outside to his car.

The attentive doorman opened the passenger door with a knowing smile and handed her carefully back inside. He shut the door with a snap while accepting his tip from Devon in his outstretched free hand.

Both hotel employees stood back, watching Devon put the car into gear and drive away. Carolyn got the distinct impression she wasn't the only woman he'd brought to the hotel before today. That sent a streak of blind jealousy a mile wide rushing through her. She clenched my fingers around the strap of her handbag and kept her gaze fixed on the cityscape flowing past the windows.

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Devon drove quickly up into the hills above the city. Following a long winding road, they finally passed into a vast estate through a massive pair of wrought iron gates set in a high stone wall. An armed, uniformed guard stepped immediately from his station house beside the gates and into their path, raising one hand.

Devon brought the car to a halt and rolled down his window. "Good morning, Gordon," he said. "How are you today?"

"Good morning, Mr Miles. I'm fine, thank you." Gordon nodded as he bent to look into the car, his dark eyes assessing me.

"Mrs Bridges is my special guest for the day," Devon told him evenly. "I will vouch for her."

"Duly noted…" The guard added an entry to the clipboard in his hand. "Everyone's waiting for you up at the house. They've already telephoned down twice to ask if we've seen you. You'd better hurry. Have a nice day, Sir." He saluted before he stood back to indicate we could continue.

"Thank you." Devon put the car in gear and drove up a wide sweeping driveway that wound up the hill. He turned into a large circular area centred with a fountain that fronted a truly impressive house.

"You said you worked for the United States government in some way," Carolyn commented. "Is all of this some kind of massive spy base in disguise? Is that why you need those armed guards down at the gate?"

Devon glanced at her, obviously working out his response without giving too much away. "It's not a spy base exactly. This is a private enterprise that was founded many years ago. We often work outside the government for a number of important reasons. FLAG is not an agency like the FBI, but we have utilised them and helped them from time to time."

"FLAG…" Carolyn prompted, now deeply curious. "What does that stand for?"

Again, Devon hesitated, obviously thinking he'd already said too much. Then he shrugged. "TheFoundation for Law and Government. It's a crime-fighting organization dedicated to dealing with those criminals who think they can operate above the law. We use our technical skills and expertise to fight back and prove them wrong."

"I see. It all sounds fascinating and just the right thing for you. You must have been very busy all these years." Carolyn looked again at the house. "So your foundation owns all of this? It's utterly incredible."

The enormous Tudor-style mansion was set on a hill above formal English gardens that stretched away in several directions. But the house itself dominated the landscape with multiple floors and vast chimney stacks. Its mullioned windows sparkled in the warm sunshine.

"Yes," Devon replied as he pulled up next to a shiny black Trans Am and cut the engine. "The estate was gifted to our trust by the previous owner who founded FLAG. He had a remarkable vision of the future. But Wilton Knight sadly died six years ago. It's important that we are able to continue our work in isolation and secret."

He looked up at the house. "I have my own wing on site. I need to remain close to my work and at the heart of the operation."

Carolyn glanced at him with renewed respect. He'd said everything in a flat, matter-of-fact manner. Many such grand mansions had long since been pulled down or turned into high-class hotels. The Foundation, Devon ran must have incredibly deep pockets to afford the upkeep of such a huge estate.

Michael walked through the open front doors and ran toward the car across the flagged courtyard. He was none too pleased about Devon's tardy arrival.

"Devon!" he shouted, waving his hands in agitation. "You're late! I'd thought we'd lost you somewhere. Gordon said he hadn't seen you. I was about to send Kitt out on a grid search. Stevie's been so worried. We've got to get this thing underway. The minister's already agitating to leave."

Devon grimaced as he shed his sunglasses and got out of the car. "Sorry about this, Michael. I got held up. But I'm here, now. Don't look so worried. Everything will be fine."

He rounded the car to hand his guest out. "Michael Knight, this is… Carolyn Bridges. She's… an old friend from back in England. We met quite by accident this morning while I was returning here for the rehearsal."

"Ah, I see. Now I get it. You got held up." Michael nodded as his deepening frown dissolved into a cheekily knowing grin.

"Any friend of Devon's…" he said taking Carolyn's hand between his.

He looked at Devon. "You sly old silver fox…" He shook his head as he glanced back at Carolyn admiringly. "You've still got it." He winked.

"I have nothing, Michael," Devon replied severely, as he picked up the roses from the back seat and shut the door with a snap. "Carolyn is as I said. Simply an old friend from another time. We haven't seen each other in years. We met quite by chance."

"So, then if you two haven't seen each other in years, you must have a whole lot of catching up to do, right?" Michael clapped his hand companionably to Devon's broad shoulder as he impatiently guided them toward the house. "Come on, we'd better get inside fast. Or I'll be divorced before I've even had a chance to get hitched."

He reached to take Carolyn's arm, placing her firmly between them. "And Bonnie's about ready to lynch both of us from the highest tree! She said we're ruining all her wedding arrangements. You know how she gets when she's got a project, and it isn't going to plan."

"You don't need to remind me, Michael," Devon replied grimly. "I will make my apologies."

"Just saying…" Michael shrugged.

Michael hurried them through the house and out into an immense back garden that allowed for more than a passing nod to the elegant Italianate ideal. A row of tall cypress trees lined either side of a walk beside a formal garden of stone walls and long pathways that invited feet to wander while admiring the intricate design.

On a long, lush oblong of immaculate lawn, running beside the walkway with the tall cypresses, two young women were waiting, pacing the grass. Two men stood close by, one a harassed-looking man in a formal suit who was clutching a bible and frowning at his wristwatch.

The younger man pumped the air with his fist the moment they appeared. "See? I told ya the boss would make it! You all owe me ten bucks. Each!"

"Thank you for your unswerving faith in me, Reginald," Devon replied repressively, as he introduced Carolyn to the assembled company.

Stevie slanted Devon a questioning look. It was for him that she reserved an admonishing frown. "You're almost too late," she accused softly. "Where have you been? I thought something had happened to you."

"I do apologise most profoundly." He bowed his head and then raised the bunch of roses. "I have brought you these…"

"Oh, thank you." Stevie took them with a polite smile that said she hadn't completely forgiven him. "They're so lovely." Her joy broke through and she went up onto her toes to kiss his cheek.

Bonnie hovered around them, looking very keen to get on with marshalling her arrangements with ruthless efficiency. They all became pawns in her detailed plans as she placed the three men where she wanted them to stand and began to instruct Stevie. The impatient minister opened his bible with an audible sigh of relief and a final glance at his watch.

Stevie asked Carolyn to hold Devon's gift of flowers before she took her wedding bouquet from Bonnie. Unneeded for the ceremony, Carolyn subsided gratefully onto a handy stone bench nearby to watch the proceedings. The heady scent of the roses drifted on the warm midday air.

She became aware that the sleek black Trans Am from the front driveway was now parked on the stone path between the twin rows of cypress trees on the other side of the green lawn. Its arrival had been silent and there was no sign of any driver.

Through the intervening foliage, it appeared to be watching everything play out with the single moving red eye in the hood. Carolyn frowned at it before looking back to the ceremony.

The minister closed his bible at the end of the rehearsal, cast a harassed look at his wristwatch and started to make his excuses. He looked up and down the lawn, obviously trying to see which way he needed to go to return to his car.

"Come on, I'll show you out." RC waved his hand at the house. "It's this way. I'll come with you. I have some important work I need to get started."

"Thank you," the minister replied gratefully, quickly saying his goodbyes before following RC's lead toward the stone steps leading up to the terrace.

"Your guest is very pretty," Stevie said as she and Michael stood with Devon. "How long has it been since you last saw each other?"

"Thirty-five years," he replied with a rush of exhaled breath.

"That is a very long time," Stevie said with sympathy. "You must be so happy to find her again."

"I figured it was that long ago." Michael laid one forefinger along the side of his nose, tapping it. "From when you were a spy for the British, right? I get it."

His narrowed eyes gleamed with the need to know more. "Was she a—"

"I don't know about you two, but I'm hungry," Devon interrupted quickly. "We should be going inside and see what the chef has prepared. I can't stay for too long. I have a very busy afternoon. I still have a foundation to run."

"All right, Devon." Michael frowned. He wasn't going to allow his questions to rest with Devon's refusal to answer them.

"Is Carolyn going to be staying with you, here at the house, while she's in town?" Stevie asked in all innocence as they all turned to walk across the lawn and offer my luncheon invitation.

"I… she already has a suite booked at the Beverly Wilshire," Devon replied. "She'll be staying there. I don't know how much longer she'll be in town."

"Then you should make up for lost time. What does she do for a living?" Michael asked, his interest now fully alive and probing.

Devon shook his head. "I have no idea about what Carolyn does. You'll have to ask her yourself," he replied shortly as they reached the two women seated on the stone bench.

"Touchy…" Michael shrugged; his expression full of brooding curiosity. "Hey, Bonnie. Great service, thanks."

"Yes…" Stevie kissed her cheek. "We're so grateful you asked to make the arrangements. It all went like a dream. I can't wait for our big day."

"You're very welcome." Bonnie's face flushed with pleasure as she stood up. "I usually find machines are much better at doing what they're told than people. You proved me wrong today."

"It's time we went inside," Devon said. "Would you like to stay for lunch, Carolyn? I'll ask Michael to drive you back to your hotel later. Unfortunately, I have a heavy workload I must attend to this afternoon. I have to make some very important international calls."

"Thank you," she replied formally. "I would like that."

"Excellent…" Devon took the safe option again, unable to explain.

"I have a question, though," she said then.

"Only one?" he tried to tease lightly, hoping he could answer it.

"That car over there. The black Trans Am. It was parked in front of the house." She nodded toward the adjacent walkway lined with the cypress trees. "Oh, it's gone…"

She looked confused. "It was there a few minutes ago. I could almost swear it was watching us. That funny red light on its hood…"

She shook her head. "All right. I know that sounds crazy. Forget it. I'm a little tired."

Devon turned and pretended to look. "It's very unlikely," he replied gently. "Maybe it was just a trick of the light."

He turned with his hand on the small of Carolyn's back to usher her forward. "Come on. Let's go inside and eat. We'll need to find a vase for those roses."

The meal was served in the relaxed informality of the main kitchen. As they ate, the banter became easy and informal. The ongoing presence of the household staff as they came and went kept the conversation from becoming too personal.

From time to time, Bonnie turned and looked at Devon critically. He pretended not to notice. He knew she was trying to work out just exactly what was going on. He had no suitable answers, so he avoided looking at her.

"What do you do for a living, Carolyn?" she suddenly asked.

"Oh…" Carolyn put down her wine glass. "I'm a… writer," she replied, after a small hesitation.

"Oh, how interesting. What do you write?" Stevie sat forward eagerly. "Maybe I've read some of them. I love books."

Carolyn's eyes flickered briefly to Devon's. "I… write crime novels combined with a central romance."

"Do you now…" Michael's speculative gaze tracked to Devon. "Under your own name?" he asked.

Devon wanted to end the conversation then and there. But he was now powerless to stop it. He took a long drink of his wine and toyed with the stem of the glass between his fingers, trying to show his unconcern.

Again, Carolyn's eyes flicked back to him. She looked uncomfortable.

Devon was about to intervene when she shrugged and said quietly, "No. My pen name is Luciana Watson. You might have heard of me..." She looked quickly around the table, but not in Devon's direction.

Luciana… her beloved name echoed through him.

He sighed as he shook my head, knowing his expression was as clueless as Michael's. She said the name like everyone should know who that was.

Devon smiled ruefully. Crime fighting didn't leave a lot of time for reading about such dark deeds as well. But to the two women, it seemed to mean something.

"Wow…" Bonnie said. "So that's you? I do love your tech details. They're always spot on. But if you ever need any hints…"

"Thank you." Carolyn nodded quickly. "My two sons help me with all of that. Especially my Danny. He loves cars and computers." Her eyes slid back to Devon. "Like that Trans Am out in the driveway. He would adore that car."

Michael shrugged. "Kitt's one of a kind. But don't tell him that. It'll only give him a swelled head."

He dropped his gaze to the ring finger of her left hand. A pale line in her tan gave the clue that she'd recently removed her rings. Michael's clinical mind grasped the small detail.

"Of course!" Stevie suddenly jumped with excitement. "I wanted to say before, but I wasn't sure. I thought your face looked familiar. It's on the back cover of your books. Oh, how wonderful! I've read every book you've ever written. I loved your latest Greystone trilogy. You do write so beautifully. I've always been in love with your hero investigator. He's divine and so handsome."

"Better looking than me?" Michael asked in a mock wounded tone, with one hand pressed to his chest over his heart.

"Almost…" Stevie smiled playfully, taking his hand between hers and kissing the back of it. "Edward Grainger does have your blue eyes, but his hair isn't dark like yours. He's blond and –"

She stopped and turned to stare at Devon. She put a hand to her mouth. "Oh…" she said again, her cheeks colouring.

As always, Michael immediately guessed the rest. He never missed a chance to rib his friend. "Devon, you really are a very dark horse. Today's been a total revelation, thanks to Carolyn's arrival." He saluted them with his wine glass. "Who knew you have a secret life as a romantic hero." He chuckled at his own bold wit.

Devon sighed as he stood up. It was time to end this before it got too far out of hand. "If everyone is finished…" He looked across the table at Bonnie. "I believe we all have our tasks. Reginald is already hard at work. May I suggest you should join him."

She rose quickly to her feet. "Of course, yes. It's been lovely to meet you, Carolyn." They shook her hands. "There's room for one more guest at the wedding. If you'd like to come."

Bonnie's slanted glance at me defied me to object. "It's this Saturday. If you're not too busy writing."

"Oh yes, please do come…" Stevie enthused as she and Michael stood up together. "We would love that."

"Then how can I refuse?" Carolyn smiled, not looking at Devon. "I would love to come. I have no urgent deadlines I need to meet."

"Great." Michael nodded, his eyes still assessing.

"I'll send an invitation to your hotel," Bonnie added before she turned and left the kitchen.

But not without one last considering glance cast at Devon. He could see her analytical mind working in overdrive. "Ah, Michael, would you please drive Carolyn back to her hotel? I have a great deal of work I must catch up on. Those telephone calls can't wait any longer."

"Okay, if that's what you want, Devon. It's all the same to me." He shrugged. "But are you sure? I mean, you've only just found each other again. You two have a lot of ground to make up. And the Wilshire's a very nice hotel. You said Carolyn had a suite there?" His raised eyebrows implied so much more.

Devon frowned at him. "Very sure. Thank you, Michael. We'll see you out front when you're ready to leave."

"Sure, be right there. Just give me ten minutes or so. I got something urgent I need to do."

"Fine. Ten minutes, then." Devon smiled quickly at Stevie. "It was a lovely ceremony. Thank you for gifting me the privilege of giving you away. I'll look forward to doing it for real on Saturday." He turned from them to encourage Carolyn toward the front door of the house.

"I'm so sorry…" she said the moment they were alone. "I just never expected to see you again. They told me you were dead, remember?"

She heaved a deep sigh. "But I just couldn't get you out of my mind. And when I discovered I had a talent for writing crime novels, I thought, what could it hurt if I used you as my hero?" Her lips thinned with bittersweet sadness. "You were once my hero, after all."

She stopped and looked up into Devon's face. "Are you really angry? You don't look too pleased. I'm truly sorry if I embarrassed you back there. Michael does seem to take great delight in ribbing you. I knew I shouldn't have said anything."

"You could never embarrass me," he replied with a sigh.

Her look said she disbelieved him but she didn't pursue it. "Who was that guy you told me about once? The man with the cat in the box. You didn't know if it was alive or dead unless you opened the lid and looked inside."

"Erwin Schrödinger," Devon supplied absently, looking down at her with resignation. "It was an experiment in quantum mechanics. He formulated it with Einstein and—"

"Whatever…" Carolyn waved a quick hand. "If you never opened the box, then you couldn't know if the cat inside was alive or dead. You could live with the not knowing and cling to the only thing you have left. Hope…"

"That's one way of looking at it," he replied warily. "Carolyn, where is this going?"

He could hear Michael talking again with Stevie. He must have finished whatever he needed to do. He would soon catch up to take Carolyn back to her hotel.

Carolyn linked the fingers of one hand through his. "Michael's leaving you and the important work you're doing here, isn't he?" she asked quickly. "I could see that you're very unhappy about it all. But he's doing it for love. He has someone important in his life now."

"Yes…" he admitted bleakly, his breath leaving him in a rush. "He was almost killed recently while working for the Foundation. Now he has Stevie, he doesn't want to risk putting her life in any danger. I can accept that. I can move on."

He raised one shoulder. "I don't have any other choice."

Carolyn tightened her grip on his hand. "But what if that's no longer enough? Just accepting what must be because you think you can't change it? Or maybe you're too afraid to even try."

"Afraid?" He frowned down at her. "Look, Carolyn, you don't understand. I'm not free to make such personal choices. I have heavy responsibilities for the primary safety of too many others."

"Maybe I don't understand because you won't let me in." She leaned closer, bringing his hand up to press it between her breasts over the rapid beating of her heart. "But I know that hope is all we have left. Why can't we both reach for what could be instead? I want to tear open Schrödinger's blasted box and find out if that cat is still alive inside."

"Ah, Luciana…" Devon groaned. "You must see it's impossible. I'm no longer that brash young man. I have so many people who depend on me to be level-headed and clear-thinking. And without any weaknesses, my enemies could use or exploit. I couldn't put you in harm's way again. If anything happened to you…" He shook his head.

He knew there were so many more imperative reasons against her staying. A lack of privacy for one. Everything and everyone who came within the FLAG orbit was scrutinised and analysed for any flaws or weaknesses. Their backgrounds were thoroughly searched for any hidden skeletons.

Devon couldn't explain that to her. Many people could not handle the total invasion of their lives and ultimately declined to join the organisation.

Michael had been the one exception. Wilton had given him no choice. He made the new and improved version of Michael Knight from the mortal remains of Michael Long. But now, even he was leaving the firm. It seemed that nothing did last forever…

"Then don't think, Devon. Just feel…" Carolyn raised his hand to her lips. "I've lived with the fantasy of seeing you again for the last thirty-five years. I've written about you and dreamed about you too. You were always the mysterious ghost in my marriage. Ian was so jealous of your memory because you kept coming between us. I don't want to die alone, wondering about what might have been now that I've just found you again…"

Her breathing hitched. "Please don't make me regret it all now…" Her wide-open eyes pleaded for his understanding. "Don't tell me that all we ever had together was just a dream. Please don't do that. I couldn't bear it if you did…"

Devon shook his head. He didn't need saving. He wasn't a knight in shining armour on a white horse. A man like Michael. And he already had Stevie.

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