Arden’s small hospital room was packed. Two FBI agents stood against the wall. Grayson and Kane were sitting near the bed, talking in hushed voices while Arden typed right-handed.
She’d been at it for two hours, and her entire body hurt. She wasn’t quite sure where the pain was coming from. She only knew it was there and that she had to ignore it. This had to be done. No pain meds until it was. No sleeping.
No looking into Kane’s beautiful dark eyes.
It took every ounce of concentration she could muster to focus on the complex algorithms scrolling across the screen in front of her.
Silas leaned against the wall next to the window, dressed in all black. The medical staff gave him a wide berth, some glancing uncomfortably at him, as they entered and exited the room.
A young nurse in colorful scrubs with rosy cheeks and a nametag identifying her as Lisa, with a heart over the i, fussed around the hospital bed, checking Arden’s vital signs and the IV fluids.
With a thermometer under her tongue, Arden was doing her best to ignore the woman and focus on the task. A feat made doubly difficult by the room full of people. Not to mention that the overly chipper nurse seemed more interested in stealing glances at Kane, Grayson and Silas than in recording Arden’s temperature.
Arden found herself uncharacteristically annoyed by that.
She was used to women fawning all over the men in her life. Her four brothers commanded attention from the ladies wherever they went. Arden usually found humor in it. But somehow watching the nurse covertly glancing at Kane when she thought no one was looking was irritating.
Of course, she couldn’t blame the woman—Kane’s quiet confidence and strength filled a room when he entered. Truth be told, Arden had caught herself glancing at him as well, only to find Kane’s warm brown eyes fixed on her from across the room.
She took a calming breath and tried to ignore the nurse while she made a few adjustments to the reparation program.
At Arden’s insistence, Grayson had called the FBI’s forensic specialist, Harriet Clemmons. Together, Arden and Harriet had been able to establish a connection for Arden to remote into the FBI’s network from her laptop. Grayson had forwarded the decrypted files to Harriet earlier, but Arden had still needed to transmit all the research files she’d collected, along with the files she’d swiped tonight.
A quick look at the evidence was enough to convince Harriet that Marcus Emory had planned to sell government secrets.
The question remained, to whom?
Arden hoped the answer was somewhere on GeoArray’s network, and she intended to help the FBI find it.
Advised of the contents of the decrypted files, Harriet had pulled some strings to get a warrant for Marcus Emory’s personal system as well as GeoArray’s networks. One of Harriet’s techs had retrieved Arden’s external drive from the hospital, then met Harriet and the FBI forensics team at GeoArray’s headquarters.
Once the USB was plugged into the network and the override code entered, Arden was able to remotely access the system and launch her program to restore it. Arden had already restored the company’s networks so the FBI could perform a thorough forensic investigation. She only had one more thing to do before turning the network over to the FBI—discover who was at the receiving end of the stolen files.
“Do you need anything?” the nurse asked sweetly as she removed the thermometer.
“Coffee and doughnuts might help,” Arden answered wryly, her stomach rumbling. She’d only been allowed ice chips since she’d awakened.
“Unfortunately, a doughnut and coffee probably won’t sit well on a post-operative stomach,” the nurse responded. “But I’ll see if I can scrounge something up for you that might hold you over.”
“Thanks,” Arden said absently, her attention on the computer again. She was almost there. She could feel it, the cyber trail she was following, leading her closer to the answer she was seeking.
She shifted uncomfortably, pain stabbing through her chest and shoulder and maybe her arm.
“You need to take a break, Arden,” Kane said. He offered her the cup of ice that was sitting on a table beside the bed.
“I need to figure this out,” she responded. She continued to type, scrolling through lines of code one after another. She followed the trail. Just like she always did. Minutes passed, and the nurse returned with chicken broth and Jell-O.
Arden didn’t have time for either.
She’d found a signature she recognized, one she’d run across on the darknet when working a forensics investigation a few years ago. It was tied to Alexei Petrov, a Russian citizen and hacker for hire. She pinged his system, located the associated IP address for the file transfer and slipped out the backdoor. Hopefully undetected.
“It’s done,” she said, pushing the laptop away. She suddenly realized how quiet the room had become. Only Grayson and Kane remained, both of them working quietly on tablets.
“You found them?” Grayson asked.
“I found someone who is affiliated with the email account Emory was communicating with. I was able to trace the backdoor he’d set up to transfer the files. I sent his name and the IP address for the end system to Harriet. My guess is he’s hired help, just like Randy. The FBI will have to take it from here to determine if it’s a nation-state entity.”
“You’re amazing, sis,” he said, pulling out his phone and sending a quick text.
“I’m also tired.” Exhausted really. Her entire shoulder and chest throbbed with pain.
“I can see that,” Grayson said, heading toward the door. “I need to make a few calls. I’ll go to the lobby so I won’t disturb you.” He opened the door and looked back. “I won’t be long. Kane, you’ve got watch.”
“I’m on it.” Kane affirmed.
Arden closed the laptop and leaned her head back on the pillows, shutting her eyes against the ceiling lights.
Cloth rustled next to her, but she didn’t open her eyes. She wasn’t sure she could. Warm fingers traced a path along her cheek, tucking strands of hair behind her ear.
“You didn’t eat your soup or your Jell-O,” Kane said, and she realized she could open her eyes.
And he was there. So close she could see the tiny scar near his lip and the fine lines near the corners of his eyes. So close she could smell winter on his shirt.
“I’m saving room,” she said.
“For what?”
“Christmas dinner,” she replied, and he smiled. He moved the laptop onto the table and pulled the blankets up around her shoulders.
“That’s a couple of weeks away.”
“It’s never too early to start planning.”
“Probably not.”
“Definitely not,” she said. Her eyes drifted shut despite her best efforts to keep them open. Somehow, she still managed to speak, spewing out useless facts that she couldn’t even blame on pain medication because she hadn’t had any. “Studies show that the best Christmas bargains are found during the summer months. Clothes. Shoes. Books. People who buy early save themselves nearly forty percent.”
“You know what else studies show?” he asked.
“What?” She opened her eyes, saw his gentle smile and smiled back.
“That patients who rest heal faster.”
“I—”
“You don’t want to miss Christmas dinner because you’re in the hospital, do you?” He crossed the room and turned off the light.
“Are you going to be there?” she asked. The question spilled out before she could stop it.
“With bells on,” he replied.
“I’d like to see that,” she murmured. Her eyes closed again, the dark room and soft beep of machines lulling her into sweet velvety sleep.
* * *
The muted dawn light seeped in through the hospital blinds. The hospital was just beginning to wake, the silence of the evening interrupted by the sounds of rattling carts and the murmuring voices of doctors and nurses making their morning rounds.
Kane stretched and yawned. He debated whether he should go for a cup of hospital coffee or play it safe with a soda from the vending machine. After Arden had fallen asleep, he’d argued with Grayson over who would stay with her and who would find a hotel for the night. In the end, they’d flipped a coin for it and Kane had happily spent a less than comfortable night in the blue pleather recliner.
He glanced over at where Arden lay, a little banged up but safe. To his surprise, she was awake, dark shadows under her eyes, her face drawn.
She smiled, though, just like she always seemed to. “You’re still here.”
“Where else would I be?” He walked to the bed and lifted her hand. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been manhandled, shot and half drowned in the Atlantic Ocean.”
“So, pretty good?” he joked, and she laughed, wincing a little at the effort.
“How about you don’t be funny for a few days, okay? It hurts too much.”
“Sorry.” He brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles. He watched as her cheeks went pink.
“What was that for?” she asked, but didn’t pull away.
“Does it have to be for something?”
“Statistically speaking? Yes,” she responded.
“Then let’s call it practice.”
“For what?”
“The Christmas party.”
“You plan on kissing people’s hands at the Christmas party?”
“No, but there’ll be mistletoe there, and a stunning, brilliant, funny woman wearing a crazy Christmas sweater. I’m thinking that if I time it right, I just might steal a kiss.” It wasn’t something he’d planned to say. It wasn’t something he’d even meant to say, but it felt right.
Her eyes widened, and she started talking, spewing facts faster than a wood chipper shot out chunks of wood.
“Who says you need mistletoe to steal a kiss? There are other traditions. Like kissing at the stroke of midnight on New Year’s Eve, kissing beneath the harvest moon. Some people believe that if you stand on the peak of Mount—”
He stopped the words with his lips, kissing her gently and sweetly and with all the affection he had for her.
Her hand slid into his hair, and she pulled him closer. The beauty of the moment shivered through him and made him long for more of this and of her.
The door opened, and she jerked back, her eyes bright blue against her fair skin.
“Wow,” she breathed.
“I can think of another word to describe it,” Grayson said.
“How about you keep it to yourself?” Kane suggested.
“I think I will,” Grayson agreed. He walked in the room, his face carefully masking his feelings, a cup of coffee in his hand.
“Sorry for interrupting your...moment. I thought you might need some coffee after a night on that chair.” He looked from Kane to Arden and back to Kane again.
“We weren’t having a moment,” Arden began, her cheeks pink.
“Yes,” Kane interrupted. “We were.”
“See?” Grayson kissed Arden’s cheek. “You were. Which was obvious.”
He handed the coffee to Kane. “I just want to know if I need to punch him for taking advantage of my sister or congratulate him for seeing how special she is.”
“There’s no need to throw any punches, Gray,” Arden said, shaking her head.
“Then congratulations, man. I guess I’ll be keeping my fists to myself...for now.”
Arden rolled her eyes. “How about we change the subject to something more interesting.”
“Personally, I find you very interesting,” Kane said, just to see her blush again.
She didn’t disappoint. “I mean the case. Have you heard from Harriet yet, Grayson?”
“She called this morning. They identified the buyer—it’s classified, so all I can tell you is that it’s a nation-state entity. We’re teaming with the CIA to catch them.”
“What about Randy?”
“He was transferred to Massachusetts Correctional Facility early this morning. That little weasel is being held without bond—Harry and her crew found enough evidence to try him as an accessory to espionage.”
“What about the deaths of Juniper’s husband, Dale, and his boss?”
“The team’s still building their case. It could be a while. I’ll push a little harder. Just to make sure they keep digging. But I feel confident—” Whatever Grayson was going to say next was cut off by his cell phone.
“Hang on, it’s Mom. I asked her to let me know when her flight would get in this morning.” He put the phone to his ear. “Hi, Mom...wait, slow down, what? Where are you?” His brows furrowed and he glanced at his watch. “Okay. I’m on my way. I’ll call in some favors to get a private flight out and should be there in under two hours.”
Grayson hung up, his usual calm demeanor slightly rattled. “Laney’s having contractions. Mom and Aunt Rose are taking her to the hospital now. The airport’s opened and Dad’s on standby—he’s hoping to get here later this morning.”
“I knew you shouldn’t have left Maryland,” Arden said. “What if you miss the birth of your kids?”
Kane reached out and grabbed her hand, hating to see her so upset.
“Stop worrying and get some rest, kid.” Grayson leaned down and kissed Arden’s forehead, then ruffled her hair. “I’ll see you in a few days.” He turned to rush toward the door, then paused and looked at Kane. “Take care of her for us.”
“I got this covered, Grayson.”
“Make sure you call with updates,” Arden yelled as the door shut behind Grayson.
“The flight to Maryland takes an hour, tops. He won’t miss the birth,” Kane assured her.
“I know,” she sighed. “It’s just Laney’s not due for another three and a half weeks. She’s probably scared and needs Gray to be there for her.”
“He will be,” Kane said with conviction. He prayed he was right. If Grayson missed the birth of his children, Arden would blame herself, even if it was misplaced blame. She genuinely wanted her family safe and happy. Would sacrifice everything for them. Just like he would sacrifice anything for her.
“But anything could happen,” she worried. “Statistically speaking, preterm birth is the greatest contributor to—” He cut her off with a kiss, which ended too soon.
“What was that for?” she asked, her face flushed.
He smiled down at her, losing himself in her eyes. “That one was just for you.”