He turned his hand to run the back of his forefinger down her cheek. “Oh yes, my love, we will do it together. It will be difficult and even dangerous. You will have to learn to inhabit a new life in a new place, and possibly learn a new language. Nothing will be easy and nothing will be familiar, but I will be with you every step of the way.”

Drake stood, keeping his hand on her face. “We have much to do today, my love, so it would be a good idea for you to get ready. I’ll let you shower and prepare yourself and we will meet in the living room at noon.”

He was out of the room quickly. Odd how so large a man could move so quickly and so quietly. He was there and then…not there.

Grace stood and walked to the windows, placing both hands against the cold glass. The snow had intensified, swirling spirals of white in the updrafts between buildings. The clouds had lowered, turned darker. It was entirely possible that a big snowstorm was coming.

Would it be the last snowstorm she’d ever see?

How odd, to think of it. How odd to think that her life was turning such a sharp corner into something else. She might never see snow again. And she would certainly never see New York again.

Grace positioned her hands so that they formed a frame and moved her hands over the huge window, capturing scenes of New York and committing them to memory. They would be stored in her subconscious, processed, and would come out at some unexpected moment.

She went into Drake’s insanely luxurious bathroom, trying to choose between the whirlpool and the perfumed shower—finally opting for the shower—and dressed in one of the outrageously expensive and beautiful outfits he’d bought her.

She knew, instinctively, that it pleased him to buy her expensive things. She didn’t much care. She’d done without all her life and would have happily dressed from Gap and Target for the rest of her days. But the clothes were beautiful and she appreciated beauty, so she washed and dressed with care.

Today, she and Drake had united their lives. It felt so strange, not to be alone. They would disappear together, spend the rest of their lives together.

It was such a delicious thought, one she’d never thought to have.

A clock on the huge mantelpiece chimed. Eleven o’clock. As in all the rooms, there was a huge fire going. Drake must have suffered greatly from the cold growing up, he made such a point of being warm. Maybe a sunny place, with no bad memories, would be good for him, too.

Walking across the enormous room, Grace smiled as she thought of the new life they would start planning in the living room.

Three rooms down, a woman lingered at the window, hands up against the glass. She stayed there for a time, in the same position, as if drinking in the view of the snow. The snow didn’t make any difference to Rutskoi; he was seeing a clear green and red outline, with no interference.

Rutskoi’s trigger finger tightened. The angle was such that a kill was a real possibility. It was Drake’s woman. Rutskoi would bet everything he owned on it.

The crosshairs were right on her heart.

One pull and she would be dead.

Oh, what a temptation. Losing his woman would make Drake insane. Poetic justice.

But Drake had to be his first target. If Rutskoi let his emotions rule, he would be useless in his future profession. Drake, then the woman. That was the way it had to be.

Rutskoi watched the woman through the thermal imager as she gazed down at the snowy scene below and then moved away.

His finger eased off the trigger.

Not yet. But soon.

He glanced at his watch. Eleven o’clock. Another hour to go.

In the study, Drake shuffled some of his passports together. He would need a couple of identities that tallied with those that would be created for Grace.

Design mavens were wrong. Less wasn’t more. More was more.

He had seven deeply embedded identities from five different nations, with credit cards and birth certificates and data going back years. And a couple of shallow identities, to be used in emergencies, as one-offs.

He wasn’t going to have time to establish deep identities for Grace, so what they did create was going to have to be perfect. Luckily, he had the perfect man for the job.

A large trolley suitcase containing two million dollars in hundred dollar bills was waiting in the living room for that man, together with lunch and two bottles of wine.

In half an hour it would start. Drake allowed himself a few minutes to contemplate the huge twist life had thrown at him. He was going to spend the rest of his life with a woman. They’d go to a remote island in the Pacific, a part of the world where he had never had business dealings, and he’d build or buy them a beautiful home open to the sun and air. Grace would paint and he would buy up the local airline company and shipping company. These were businesses he knew down to the ground, and that way he could keep track of everyone who came to the island and would have a good cover for his money.

His lips curved. Running a legitimate business. Could be interesting.

Most magical of all, Grace was coming with him. Grace was happy to come with him.

Grace loved him.

He’d never been loved. He’d been hated and feared and envied, even admired, but never loved.

Grace loved him.

He would never grow tired of that thought.

He could leave behind the wealth and the power because they had started to weigh heavily on him, like a huge burden he’d carried far too long. He’d never thought to put down his shield and sword, but life had handed him exactly that opportunity.

Not that he intended relaxing his vigilance, particularly with Grace to protect. But violence and power would no longer define his life. They would simply be the means to protect his life. His life with Grace.

He was so taken with the idea that he wasn’t even pursuing the traitor in his midst. Soon, they would be gone. Whoever had betrayed him would end up with ashes.

A light knock on the door and he smiled. His heart rate actually picked up. Drake’s heartbeat stayed as steady as his hands, no matter what. Cornered, under fire, surrounded by enemies, he kept his cool. Grace changed all that.

“Enter,” he called to his new love.

He would get over this stage. Probably. Maybe. But while he was in it, it was a delight. To be so attuned to another human being you could feel her thoughts, to be uppermost in her mind, to matter…these were all such rare joys, it was as if he’d been visited by a unicorn.

No, not a unicorn, even better.

Grace. That she loved him seemed like such a miracle. And yet he recognized in her the same deep loneliness that afflicted his own life. How men could stay away from such a gentle beauty was a stone-cold mystery to him, and yet no one knew better than Drake how irredeemably stupid and dull-witted most men were. Grace was indeed a rare beauty, but she seemed to have been born without the heavy armor most beautiful women are born with. She was open, vulnerable, incapable of playing games.

It was what endeared her to him, but he understood full well what it made her. Prey.

Well, she was no longer prey, and never would be again. She would be fiercely protected by him, for the rest of their lives.

A fall of shiny bronze hair, long white fingers clutching the edge of the door and half a face peeking in.

“Drake?” she said softly. “It’s early, I know. I thought I’d go wait in the living room for this man.” She walked over to his desk.

“Good idea,” he said. “While you’re there, open a bottle of wine and pour three glasses. I’ll be right there.”

She gave a slight smile. “So I guess we’re starting our new life right now, huh?”

God, that sounded good. “Yes, duschka,” he replied softly, reaching up to stroke her cheek. She rubbed her face into his hand. He loved the way she reacted every time he touched her, his touch pleasing to her. “It starts now. In the living room.”