On the other hand, there was a knot in his chest the size of a fist. It had taken up residence there the minute he’d realized that it was Kat lying facedown in the dirt at his feet. He was still having trouble believing she was real, that he wasn’t going to wake up from another nightmare to find that it had all been his imagination.
Who knew how many nights over the past three years he’d paced the floor, unable to get her image out of his head? She’d cost him everything that mattered: his job, his friends, his sense of purpose. After two fucking long years holed up in a dank corner cell, he’d finally stepped back out into the sunshine, but with his life in pieces and his soul in shreds.
The day he’d walked out of prison, he’d been stunned to find Joss O’Day waiting for him. She’d whisked Conlan away to her husband’s family estate, where she’d browbeaten Rafferty into offering him a job. In doing so, she’d also given Conlan a safe place to lick his wounds. Brick by brick, he’d rebuilt himself, but the workmanship was pretty damned shoddy. Just being in the same room with Kat had him feeling as if all those fissures and cracks inside him were about to shatter.
He stood up. Time to end this pity party. Finding Kat wouldn’t give him back one minute of what he’d lost. The most he could hope for was getting answers to the questions that had tormented him since she’d disappeared.
One step, two. Finally, he stood beside the bed, staring down at that face that still had the power to move him. She wore her hair shorter now, the soft dark curls framing her delicate face. Her lashes looked even darker than normal against her pale skin. Right now she looked worried, her brows drawn in. She had good reason to feel that way. Kat had to know that Rafferty wouldn’t risk major problems with the Coalition by protecting her.
And sure as hell, Conlan had no interest in standing between her and trouble. He’d tried that once. Never again. Not for her. So if he had to camp out in this room to make sure she didn’t slip away, once again leaving chaos in her wake, he’d do it.
“I sure hope you never look at me with that particular expression on your face.”
Conlan forced himself to retreat a step before turning to face Joss. She stood in the doorway, a basket in hand. Aw, shit, he’d forgotten all about her dinner party.
He glanced at the basket. “Damn it, Joss, I’m sorry I missed the party. I was...busy.”
Joss came the rest of the way into the room and handed him the basket. “I know. Compared to your usual excuses, though, this one was a dandy. Now sit down and eat that.”
He set it down on a nearby counter. “I will later.”
Only rarely did Joss remind him that she was his employer. She crossed her arms over her chest, and her chin took on that stubborn tilt that could make even her terror of a husband cower. Joss was nearly Conlan’s height, which made it easy for her to stare him straight in the eye.
“Now, Conlan, and that’s an order. It doesn’t take a doctor to recognize a man running on empty.”
“Okay, fine.”
He dropped back into the chair in the corner and uncovered the basket. The rich scent of tomato sauce and spices wafted up. His stomach immediately growled. Okay, so she was right. He did need to refuel, not that he appreciated the knowing smirk she shot his way.
“No one likes a know-it-all, Joss.”
She shrugged. “I prefer to think of myself as wise beyond my years.”
There was no winning with her, and they both knew it. While he devoured the lasagna and salad, Joss wandered around the room, touching this and studying that. For the moment it was as if Kat Karr didn’t exist for
either of them. He wished it could stay that way, but he knew that it couldn’t.
When he ate the last bite, Joss finally acknowledged the sleeping woman’s presence. “So, this is her.”
Conlan joined his friend standing by the bed. “Yeah, it is.”
Joss stared down at Kat. What was she seeing that put such an odd look on her face? “Not what you expected?”
She shook her head. “I’d seen pictures, of course, but I was expecting her to look hard, even jaded. Instead, she looks