The Blonde Identity (46)

“Get out!”

“Not until you listen.” He slammed the door. He hadn’t even registered that it was the lavatory until she had to back up against the sink to make room for his big body.

“If you think I’m joining whatever the train version of the mile-high club is with you— Ouch!”

She banged her head against a small cabinet, so he used one hand to cup her head and the other to circle her waist and lift, setting her atop the counter and stepping in between her spread thighs.

“You were right,” he admitted. “I thought about using you. And then I thought about leaving you.”

“Uh . . . I know!”

“Because I don’t want you to get hurt.”

He let his eyes take her in, from her wild hair to the bruise to the—damn, was she bleeding again? It proved his point, though. He cursed silently to himself then grabbed a tissue and pressed it against her temple. He hated the way her eyes closed when he touched her—was it because her head hurt? Or something else? Because touching her hurt him, too, but he wasn’t anywhere near brave enough to say it.

“I thought about leaving last night because I thought you were safe there. I thought you’d stay safe there. I thought . . .” Sawyer had been trained in interrogation tactics and at least twenty different ways to spot a lie, but for the life of him he didn’t know how to say—“I learned a long time ago that everyone is safer far away from me.”

It was almost peaceful there, in the small, dim room on the gently rocking train. And Zoe was so close—warm and safe and alive. He had to keep her alive.

“Is this about Helena?”

He balled up the tissue and threw it in the bin. “It’s about a lifetime of collateral damage. I thought you’d be safer if I left, Zoe. That’s all.” He cupped her face and pulled her close. “I was wrong. So . . .” He drew a deep breath; he was going to need it. “I’m sorry I almost left last night. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth about the card in Paris. And I’m sorry I thought about using you to access the vault. And I’m sorry that I’ve lost track of all the things I’m supposed to be sorry for. But, mostly, I’m sorry this is happening to you.” He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry I can’t keep you safe.”

“It’s not your fault,” she whispered.

His thumb ran over the smooth skin of her cheek in the world’s tiniest caress. “Of course it is.”

Zoe looked over her shoulder, into the mirror—at the face the world was looking for. “As long as the world is after Alex, I’ll never be safe.”

“I know. I—”

“That’s why I have to clear Alex’s name.”

It sounded so simple—so obvious and so easy. But she was also so wrong he could cry. “These people are dangerous, Zoe. They’re monsters.”

“I know! There’s a price on my sister’s head, remember? On my head.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to pay it!” Then he pressed against her, body against body, foreheads touching because he didn’t trust his hands. He’d spent too much time training them to act on instinct, and if he let them near her, then he didn’t trust what they might do.

So he breathed in her scent and he matched her breath for breath, and he wished he were the kind of man who could save her. And he wished she were the kind of woman who would let him.

“Let me get you someplace safe.”

“You want me safe?” She seemed to take it like a dare. “And out of your hair?”

“Yes, please.” He couldn’t help but laugh. “Both would be great.”

“Then take me to the bank.” Oh, she was good. He hadn’t even seen it coming. And he really, really should have.

“Just so we’re clear, when I think hey, maybe Zoe could pretend to be Alex so we can access the bank box, it’s evil, but when it’s your idea, it’s genius?”

“It’s evil when it’s a secret,” she said simply, and Sawyer knew she was right. He also knew—

“It’s too dangerous.” He was shaking his head. “No. I’m not letting you—”

“I’m going with or without you, so unless you plan on kidnapping—”

He pulled back as much as he could in the tiny room. “Don’t tempt me.”

“Help me.” It was the tone of her voice that did it, pleading and desperate, but just proud enough to show that asking hadn’t been easy. “Help me end it.”

Sawyer never thought about the end. He didn’t plan for his retirement. The fact that she still thought she could get a happy ending . . . he didn’t want to be the one to tell her that was the biggest lie of all.

So he made her a deal. “We can go to the bank and check it out, and if Alex is there and shows herself, great. But we’re not going in, and we’re not taking any risks.”

“Okay.” She nodded. “Yes.”

And, asshole move or not, he pressed even closer. He wanted her to remember he was bigger and stronger and forget that she could break him with a look.

“But, Zoe . . . so help me. If I so much as smell Kozlov on the wind, we put Zurich to our backs and we don’t stop running until we hit water.”