Page 99 of Wyatt

Then he turned to RJ and just let himself take her in.

I could find you when this is over.

His last in-person words to her, spoken in the middle of a dark train station alley in Yekaterinburg over six weeks ago.

He hadn’t imagined they might come true.

Had intended on leaving them there, a what-if that could never materialize, except in his dreams.

Only, this wasn’t a dream, was it? Because Gustov was playing a game of chess and York hadn’t a clue to his next move.

He’d call it a nightmare.

“Are you hurt?” He cradled RJ’s pretty face, running his thumbs over her cheekbones, meeting her eyes.

She pressed her hands to his. “I’m fine. Are you?”

“What are you doing here? Why aren’t you on your ranch?” He blew out a shaky breath. “What if I hadn’t been able to get to you?”

Her eyes widened, and shoot—that wasn’t what he wanted to say at all.

No. What he wanted to do was pull her to himself and kiss her, oblivious to the onlookers and even her mother, who was standing three feet away.

Probably not a great idea, even though the woman was averting her eyes as if trying to give them a moment. Especially if he wanted to keep his heart from careening off the edge, taking her hand, and simply making a run for…well, anywhere.

Off the map, forever.

Yeah, if he could, he’d simply disappear with RJ. Change their names.

Erase their pasts.

Live happily ever after as John and Sally Smith.

“What am I doing here? I thought you texted me. I thought youneededme,” RJ said.

Oh, and…okay, yes, he did. Because just being around her made him feel less…less alone. He wanted this woman in his life—and the realization of it could take him out at the knees. Especially if Gustov won.

So he ignored her statement and the hurt in her eyes, cutting his voice low to focus on right now.

Not tomorrows.

Not what-ifs.

Not the fact that he was in way over his head. “So you got the same text I did—the one telling you to meet me at the hotel?”

“Yeah. This morning, early. I…I texted you back and even tried to call, but I got no answer.”

“That’s because I didn’t send it.” He took her hands in his, met her eyes. “I was so worried. When I got off the plane, I got your text, but I had your number, so I knew it wasn’t from you. I knew—”

“Gustov sent it.”

“Maybe. Probably. He stole Kat’s SIM card—probably got the phone numbers off that and used them to text us.”

“Coco? You saw her?” This from RJ’s mother. She was pretty too. Curly brown hair tied back in a bandanna. She wore an oversized flannel shirt, leggings, and running shoes.

“Yeah, actually. She’s with Wyatt, on her way to Seattle.”

The woman’s eyes widened.

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