He believed her. No, he wasn't certain it would work, but he genuinely believed she thought it would.

That didn't mean it was a good idea. "It could be risky for you, emotionally. Are you sure you're capable of doing that?"

She leaned over the table, dropping her forearms onto it. "You might be surprised by what I'm capable of doing these days."

Seeing the narrowness of her eyes, suspecting the soft blue irises looked more like hard, gray flint right now, he very much doubted that.

The soft-spoken Lily he had known might not have been capable of swatting a fly.

The woman she had become, on the other hand, appeared capable of just about anything.

"Very well."

Her expression softened. "Thank you. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it that you don't treat me like some fragile flower in need of protection."

"You are in need of protection," he said, blunt and to the point. "There's a man out there who wants you dead. And you can't afford to forget it."

"Don't worry," she whispered, haunted, weary. "Not one single minute of one single day goes by without me remembering that."

Jesse wasn't supposed to take any unapproved documents back to his cell, and knew he'd have to hide this one before morning. That was fine-he had a few cubbyholes that hadn't yet been discovered during the weekly surprise cell tosses.

If it was found, it would be confiscated and he'd find himself punished in all the little ways the guards liked to punish the inmates in this place. Yet Jesse had been unable to give it back to the lawyer after she'd let him read it. He'd carefully slipped it into his jumpsuit before the guard had returned him to the block. He'd just needed to keep it close. Keep it all real. For as long as he possibly could. He needed to keep convincing himself that it had really happened. That next week could really happen.

That he could be set free.

He read the letter again, alone in his cell, very late that night. The security lights spilling in from the rest of the cellblock provided ample illumination. His fat, stinking cell mate, who had watched while Jesse was held down and assaulted his first week here, snored on, but Jesse was still careful not to rustle the paper, to make no sound at all. Not even a happy sigh as he studied the words he had almost memorized.

Dear Mr. Boyd:

I suppose you have many questions regarding my intercession on your behalf, which is why I am writing this letter, which Ms. Vincent was instructed to deliver to you. My altruism may seem unusual, but I am, in fact, merely a person with a loathing for injustice in any form. Call me someone who has seen it firsthand, who wants only to see that the guilty are punished and the innocent protected. Therefore, please accept my assistance with your legal dilemma in the spirit in which it was offered: with nothing but positive thoughts, well wishes, and hopes for your speedy release.

I am convinced an injustice was done to you and look forward to the day when the rest of the world sees that as well I am sure that with Ms Vincent on the case, that day is fast approaching. After it comes, I do hope we can meet, face-to-face, to discuss everything that led you to this difficult point. The choices you made, the people you met. The people who wronged you so terribly.

How unfortunate, in a way, that your main accuser is not alive to see her lies exposed and your good name restored. I do hope that, wherever she is, she learns of your change in fortunes… and weeps.

I will be anxiously awaiting the results of your hearing next week and wish you all the best.

Sincerely yours,

A friend

Chapter 5

The next morning, shortly before dawn, Lily left the house and made her way down to the beach. She'd taken care to creep past Wyatt's bedroom door, not wanting to awaken him, as shed obviously done during the night. She had put the man out enough to last her lifetime.

By asking him to let her help in the investigation, she had done so again. He had already gone so far out on a limb for her, he was on the verge of falling into a very deep pit of trouble. Yet he had agreed, knowing, as Lily did, that with so few people aware of the truth, she could be a genuine asset.

Just as the need to do the job-to keep other families from being hurt-had been enough to help her survive what had happened to her family, now, needing to know who had done this to her gave Lily the same motivation. She'd been recovering for months. Rebuilding her strength. Preparing. Now she needed to act.

The sun was just on the verge of rising when her feet finally hit the sand at the end of her long descent. By all rights, she should have slept much later herself. She and Wyatt had remained outside on the patio talking until at least two a.m., and though she had fallen into bed shortly thereafter, sleep had been a long time coming.

At least her dreams had not been dark ones.

"No, they were almost worse," she muttered, shaking her head at her own foolishness. Because instead of dreaming about the terrifying night Wyatt had saved her, she had instead been troubled by intense, surprising visions of some other nights she had spent with him. Other moments, when she had been less vulnerable and he less noble. When he'd let down his guard and looked at her with eyes that weren't pitying and protective, but instead piercing, hot, and perhaps even interested.

You're imagining things.

He was as interested in her as any good person would be in a wounded animal. That was all. Dreams inspired by solitude and a long drought of physical intimacy didn't mean a damn thing other than that she needed to be extra vigilant to keep her feelings hidden.

Not romantic feelings, she had to believe that. She felt only friendship and genuine appreciation for Wyatt.

But she couldn't deny that when she let herself really think about the idea of him desiring her, something deep inside the untouched, cold part of herself flashed with unexpected warmth.

"Forget it," she reminded herself. "It's never going to happen." She had never been the kind of person who could separate sex from emotion, so the idea of just taking a bit of physical relief from the most attractive man she'd ever known was out of the question.

At least, Lily had never been that kind of person. The Lily she'd once been.

"You're not that Lily anymore."

Maybe the woman she was now could take what she needed, get it out of her system. Maybe that woman even had the nerve to try to take it from Wyatt Blackstone.

It bore consideration. But not now, not while he was here, filling the house with his magnetic presence. She'd think about it long and hard after Wyatt left and she was again alone, lost in her own thoughts and free from any outside distractions.

Remaining at the base of the steps, she sat down on the weathered wooden plank, cut into the side of the rocky hill, and rested her forearms loosely on her knees. The bottom cuff of her sweats pulled up a little, enough to reveal the ankle holster and small-caliber handgun she carried at all times. Self-conscious, though she was entirely alone, she pulled the fabric down. Wyatt knew she had weapons- he just didn't need to know she carried them every time she set foot outside the perimeter of the house.

Streams of orange and pink had begun to appear far away where the black ocean met the dark blue sky. As always, Lily held her breath, waiting for it, enjoying this one moment of the day more than any other.

She was soon rewarded, paid off for her patience. Between one blink of the eye and the next, the golden globe of the sun popped up to send streams of light racing across the water. Within seconds, day had broken, bathing the beach, and her face, with the very first hints of warmth that cut through the morning chill.