trip he was on. Nobody took anything that belonged to him. And he thought I belonged to him.” She looked away.
“Scary to think he was in the FBI all those years and nobody suspected anything,” Joe said.
“He hid it well. I think maybe that’s what attracted him to that job in the first place,” she said softly. “All that power…” She looked up at Joe. “If only I’d been braver. I could have told someone what I knew and then maybe Tommy-”
He shook his head, cutting her off. “No, damn it. We’re not going to do this to ourselves. It wasn’t your fault. It was Clint’s. Don’t take any of the blame away from him.”
“You’re right,” she agreed. “Clint’s the one to blame.”
He touched her hand. “What happened after you came here and hid the DVD?”
“I don’t remember. There are two weeks missing between then and when I showed up in Trinity, Idaho. It’s possible I’ll never remember what happened during that time.”
“Oh, baby…”
She took his hand and squeezed it. “It’s over now, isn’t it? We’re still here. I still love you. You still love me, right? We made it.”
He caught her face between his hands, the intensity of his gaze making her breath catch. “I do love you. I never stopped, no matter how hard I tried to make it go away.” He pressed his forehead to hers.
“I know,” she said softly.
He made a soft, sobbing sound and then crushed her to him, slanting his mouth over hers.
She kissed him back fiercely, giving him her strength and love in equal measures. He edged her back toward the sofa, drawing her down into his lap as he deepened the kiss. A few moments later, they broke apart, breathing hard, and gazed at each other in the ensuing silence.
“You’re marrying me,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
“Damn straight,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.
He lifted her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. She tugged at the buttons of his shirt, needing to feel his skin beneath her fingers, to hear the pounding of his heart beneath her ear, beating out a cadence of hope and reassurance.
They were alive.
They were together.
As night fell, they reclaimed a life almost lost to them, washing away their lingering pains and fears in a flood of passion, pleasure and love.
“What should I call you?” Joe asked much later, his breath hot on her throat. “Now that you remember who you really are.”
She turned in his arms, nuzzling his jaw. “I’m fond of Jane now.”
He chuckled, sliding his hand over the curve of her hip. “What a coincidence,” he murmured. “So am I.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Alabama native Paula Graves wrote her first book, a mystery starring herself and her neighborhood friends, at the age of six. A voracious reader, Paula loves books that pair tantalizing mystery with compelling romance. When she’s not reading or writing, she works as a creative director for a Birmingham advertising agency and spends time with her family and friends. She is a member of Southern Magic Romance Writers, Heart of Dixie Romance Writers and Romance Writers of America.
