Conrad was leaning against the side of his car, watching as I walked toward him. It was stupid; for a second I wanted to look behind me to see who this hot guy was talking to.

"Yeah. She said she can stay all weekend if I want her to."

"Good."

Conrad held out his hand and helped me into the car, stealing a kiss as I folded myself into the soft leather seat.

He said he had a surprise. I couldn't even begin to imagine what it might be.

We drove through the city at the same break neck speed that Conrad seemed to continuously feel was necessary. I switched on the radio, and after a minute we were both humming along with an old George Strait song. And then he began to sing at the top of his lungs, completely unable to carry a tune, but quite capable of putting much too much enthusiasm into his pathetic performance.

When he swung the car through the gate of a private airport, I straightened in my seat.

"What are we doing here?"

"We're getting out of town for the weekend."

"No," I said, looking behind me at the receding city street. "Tomorrow's Thanksgiving. I was going to make Memaw a nice dinner. And you were supposed to spend the night with Aurora."

"Aurora's parents came home early from the Bahamas. And I arranged for a nice dinner to be sent to your house from a local restaurant. Your grandmother and her nurse will dine very well."

"But, what about-"

"Mellissa," Conrad threw the car into park and grabbed my face, holding it much the same way my grandmother had the night before, "baby, if we only have five more days together, I want to spend them away from all this bullshit, the kidnapping stuff, the legal maneuvering, and the WITSEC crap. I want it to be just you and me and nothing else."

Tears filled my eyes. They'd been doing that a lot lately.

"Okay."

"Okay," he said, his expression softening.

He ran his thumb gently over the curve of my jaw before putting the car back into gear and maneuvering into a warehouse-like structure at the back of the property. Inside was a small jet, one of those that look like the military jets they use in the movies sometimes. I could almost imagine Tom Cruise sitting in the cockpit.

"What is this?"

"Didn't I tell you?" Conrad asked. "I'm a pilot. This is my plane."

"You're joking."

He smiled as he climbed out of the car. A man I hadn't seen when we first drove into the building stepped out from behind the nose of the plane and greeted Conrad with one of those bro hugs-a handshake that turns into an enthusiastic slap on the back. I could hear the laughter in their voices even before I opened the car door.

"Well, I'm glad you're going out. It's been a while."

Conrad shook his head in agreement. "Yeah, well, when business is good..."

"I know how that is." The man noticed me then. His smile spread when he did. "But I can see you found a good reason to pull yourself away."

Conrad held out his hand to me. "I definitely did."

"She's in great shape," the man said, patting the nose of the plane. "Everything checks out and her engines were purring just a bit ago. Shouldn't give you any trouble."

The man led the way around the plane, talking about things that went right over my head. I knew absolutely nothing about planes. But it was kind of ego-inflating to be holding hands with a man who did.

The man-his name was Will, he was Conrad's mechanic among other things-opened the door that, just like in the movies, turned into a flight of stairs that led into the belly of the plane. It was all creamy tan leather, four seats behind the open cockpit and two there. Conrad led me to one of those seats before taking his own and pulling on a headset that he immediately spoke into to test that it was working properly.

After a prolonged conversation with Will, he looked over at me.

"Ready?"

I felt like I was in a dream. I was really on a jet about to fly into the night sky with my lover at the helm. Was I ready? Not really.

But I smiled and nodded.

No one ever talks about the extensive preparations before a plane can take off. It was fascinating to watch Conrad check all the instruments before he even turned a single thing on. And then he checked them again before moving the plane out of the building. Then, he got out and did a walk around, checking things I could never even imagine what they did, before climbing back inside and talking with some unseen person over the radio to verify the flight plan he apparently filed hours ago. Had he been planning this all day? Even after our argument? Then, finally, we were floating in the clouds together.

And I thought he had already taken me to heaven.

Cheesy, Mellissa.

"What do you think?" he asked as we cruised high over our home city.

There were no words. I had flown before-too many times on the dime of the US Marshals Service-but this was so different. The sounds were different. The feel was different. The view was different. I couldn't take my eyes from the windows as the light faded behind the majestic Oregon landscape.

"You do this whenever you feel like it?"

"Well, as often as work and life allow."

I glanced at him. "If I could, I would do this every day."

Pleasure burst across his face. "You haven't seen anything yet."

We flew for hours, but it felt like minutes. It was dark, and there was little we could actually see. But the lights of the cities were like stars in the distance. We made a game of trying to guess which of the major cities we were flying over. Since I had no clue where we were going, I was wrong most of the time-often in the wrong state-but Conrad was kind enough to allow me a few guesses here and there. A few obvious guesses.

It was almost a disappointment when we landed.

We were met on the tarmac by another man-apparently Will's counterpart-and it took quite a bit of time for Conrad to go over the post flight inspection with him before we were finally allowed to leave. There was a four door Jeep waiting for us that didn't look like a rental, leaving me wondering how often Conrad took this particular trip. Almost as if he could read my mind, he reached over and touched my hand.

"I haven't been here in almost six months. But I'm glad I could bring you."

"Where is here?"

"Home." He laughed at my somewhat bewildered expression. "Texas," he elaborated. "Welcome to the great city of Corpus Christi."

That explained the ocean breeze and the humidity, even this late in November.

I sat back in the car seat, suddenly overcome with exhaustion. It was too much for one day-between Russell and Rawn and all the stuff going on at the office, and then the emotional toll of checking out the assisted living centers and signing the papers that would admit my grandmother on Monday...and then the excitement of the flight. It was all simply too much.

I hadn't realized just how tired I was until Conrad was waking me from a sound nap.

"We're here," he said softly.

We were parked in front of a beautiful cabin-style building that was all glass and wood. Tall trees hung over the front walk that was made from some sort of wood chips interspersed with flower beds that were still blooming with some sort of bright red flower.

Conrad came around the side of the car and helped me out, leading me to the front door with his head bent down, almost like a shy child about to show off his favorite toy. He pushed open the front door and waved me inside. I gasped. It was...

Again that sense of being in a dream overwhelmed me.

The entryway was a step down that moved into a long, flowing room that included a gourmet kitchen, a formal dining area, and a cozy living room with a huge stone fireplace that dominated an entire wall. At the very back was a wall of glass that looked out onto a walnut-colored deck that flowed, in turn, onto an expansive beach that I kind of assumed was private. We could see the waves crashing against the pale sand from the light shining from some unseen spot above the deck.

So beautiful.

"This is your vacation house?"

"My escape. I bought it a couple years ago, just after my divorce from Aurora was finalized."

He took my hand and drew me into the kitchen. "You must be starving."

"Tired is more like it."

"Would you like to just call it a night?"

I moved into his arms and answered with a heavy sigh. He chuckled a little before he swung me up into his arms and carried me down the long hallway off the living room that ended in the most luxurious master bedroom I think I'd ever seen-and I'm a fan of all those DIY house-flipping shows.

Like in his house back in Portland, the bed was a work of art. This one was made of brass, the headboard an intricate design of stars and horseshoes while the footboard was monogrammed with Conrad's initials. The floor was a lovely white carpet that my feet likely would have sunk into if he had allowed me to walk. The rest of the furniture was a collection of brass and wood antiques that seemed right at home with another flat-screen television and state-of-the-art sound system.

Conrad laid me on the bed. I immediately turned into the feather pillows and sighed.

"I don't know how you can get out of bed every morning when you wake up in this."

"It's not always easy," he admitted, as he leaned close to kiss me before he began unbuttoning my blouse. I touched his wrist, and he shook his head with a soft chuckle. "I'm not going to try anything. Not tonight. I'm just as exhausted as you are."

I let him undress me then and happily curled up into his arms when he finally stretched out beside me.

Madison "When do you leave for California?"

"Already have." Rawn sighed. "It's been a long week, and it's only half over."

"I'm sorry," I said, rolling over in the bed as I imagined Rawn sitting in one of those captain's chairs in his jet. "I wish I could take some of it off your shoulders."

"You are just by talking to me."

"You're such a charmer, Mr. Jackman."

"Me? I'm not the one who approached a stranger in a park and-"

"Can't we forget that little piece of our history? It's kind of embarrassing."

"Not to me."

I smiled, my thoughts going places they probably shouldn't while we were hundreds of miles apart. But I couldn't help myself. I craved his touch like I used to crave chocolate cake when I was younger.

"I talked to Mellissa today," Rawn said, changing the subject and pulling my mind out of our secret room. "She's pretty pissed at me for getting Conrad arrested."

"I guess the two of them are getting close."

"Seems so." Rawn was quiet for a second. "I hope it's a good thing. The guy's had a rough time these last few years."

"You guys are really good friends, aren't you?"

There was another silence. "It's hard to explain."

"Well, if it sets your mind at ease, I don't think Conrad is the inside person anymore."

"What do you mean?"

I rolled onto my back, Rawn sitting up and staring intently at me in my imagination.

"I remembered something today. The guy who came to the house where they were holding me, the one who told them who I really was? It couldn't have been Conrad."

"And you know that how?"

His tone was deep, controlled, but I could still hear the hint of hope underneath.

"Because the man wore glasses."

"I thought he was lost in shadows and you couldn't really see him."

"I couldn't. But I ran into an old friend today-long story-and when he went to push up his glasses, I remembered seeing that man make a similar gesture. I'm pretty sure he was wearing glasses."

"Conrad doesn't wear glasses."

"No."

"Shit," Rawn uttered under his breath. "I'll talk to McFarren in the morning and try to get this thing cleared up."

"I'm sorry, Rawn."

"No, I'm glad you remembered. If you remember anything else-"

"You'll be the first I tell."

Mellissa I woke early the next morning as the sun poured through the glass doors across from the bed. I rolled over and watched Conrad for a minute, studying the way his face looked when it was completely relaxed, the way his chest barely moved with each breath, the way he sighed as though he were having the best dream an imagination could muster.

I wished I had years of doing this to look forward to, watching the years mark his face. The lines the laughter we would share would mark the corners of his mouth. But all I had was now, and some other woman would have the joy of watching him grow old.