Page 92 of The Gentleman

“Here? You sure?”

“Professional hunch.” She finally turned to him, eyes clear and sharp despite the fatigue that had marked them both for days. “It’s the only thing thatstillmakes sense.”

A jolt rocked the cabin again.

He nodded once. “If she’s here, we deal with it. Until then, we stick to the plan.”

The engines wound down.

Leo unbuckled and stood. “Let’s move.”

One by one, they descended the folding stairs into Palawan’s thick air. The rain had eased to a drizzle, but the humidity was dense enough to drink, saturated with the scent of wet earth and overripe vegetation. Heat wrapped around them like a damp wool blanket.

“Loving this tropical soup.” Fox spread his arms wide and spun in a slow circle. “Can we do this more often?” He smacked suddenly at the back of his neck. “Dammit!”

“Better than rainy England.” Abe stepped onto the tarmac and glanced at the bruised sky.

“Yeah, well, England’s bugs don’t try to drain your soul.” Fox studied the mosquito on his palm like it had insulted his family.

Abe shrugged, grinning. “Fair point.”

Leo lingered at the rear, watching his team work.

Gear unloaded. Comms checked, quiet murmurs. The familiar rhythm of an op falling into place. Weapons, vests, focus—everything locking into place like a well-oiled machine.

But his attention kept returning to Kat.

She stood apart from the others, arms folded, gaze fixed on the mountains where storm clouds still gathered. The woman who had upended his carefully ordered life.

The woman he would follow into fire.

The truth he’d shoved down since London—hell, maybe since Oslo—hit home.

He loved her. Not just want or trust—love.

He’d loved her since Oslo.

But he hadn’t let himself admit it.

Not until now.

Not until this moment, standing in the rain, watching her hold the storm at bay with nothing but willpower and grit.

He’d spent years locking away emotion, believing attachment made him weak and that he didn’t deserve love. But now, looking at her silhouetted against the storm-lit sky, he understood something with absolute, bone-deep certainty.

She wasn’t walking away from this without him. And he’d never let her try.

Since Sangin, when everything human in him had shut down, the hollow void had held fast—until her. Her laugh. Her fire. All of her.

He had paid for his failures.

And maybe the best way to honor the dead was through love, not loneliness

“Bychkov.” Landon’s voice split the air, yanking Leo from his thoughts.

Great. Protective-brother speech—volume nine.

Leo swallowed a sigh as Landon’s boots crunched up behind him, fingers biting into his shoulder—just shy of bone-grinding.

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