Chapter 33 The Calm Before the Approaching Storm

Chapter 33 The Calm Before the Approaching Storm
Two days later, in the middle of the night, Dane hurried along the dark path to his cabin. The air was oppressive, charged with static from the approaching storm. Behind him the wind kicked up, blowing dirt and grit. It was going to be one hell of a storm. Long overdue.
The path turned sharply, the ground inclining as the cabin's outline finally appeared around the bend. Against the black horizon, the small structure appeared even darker. No light shone from within. Dane scowled. The electricity was probably out again. If Tessa was awake, she was probably terrified. He took the porch steps two at a time. Unlocking the door, he slipped inside and paused, allowing his eyes to adjust to the much darker interior. He listened carefully for a noise to confirm his worry. All he heard was his own harsh breathing.

You promised to never leave me again like this, at night.
Cursing himself and the consequences that led to his absence, he eased from the doorway, silently picking his way across the room to the bedroom door. He entered quietly, grateful for the hazy moonlight filtering through the window. The slight form on the bed didn't move. Dane released a pent-up breath as he stepped closer and confirmed---thankfully---that she was sleeping soundly. She wouldn't ask any questions about how long he'd been gone.
He felt the stab of conscience. She was probably exhausted. She'd slept little the night before, and they'd made love twice before he left. He watched her, his eyes skimming over her from top to bottom. She was lying on her left side, in the middle of the bed, her head half on his pillow, half on her own, arms extended over her head.
His hostage.

The quilt covering her rose and fell slowly, following the rhythm of her deep, even breaths. Shifting back, Dane shrugged out of his leather jacket and silently pulled off his boots, his eyes never leaving her. A thousand weights seemed to drop from his shoulders, knowing she was safe--asleep---just as he'd left her.
He removed the nine-millimeter semiautomatic from where he had it tucked at his back, securing it within easy reach, before he peeled off his shirt. In the distance, a low roll of thunder rumbled. The storm was moving in.
Tessa stretched slightly, drawing his attention once more to the bed. Damn, she was beautiful. He felt himself harden and enjoyed the uniquely male sensation. Did she know she had the power to arouse him so instantly, so innocently?
The top button of his worn jeans gave way. She'd entered his life a little over three weeks ago, captured his heart and nearly destroyed the master scheme he and his partner had been working on for the past two years. He kicked his jeans aside, brooding.

Every thought, every move had been meticulously calculated. Nothing had been left to chance. Every option had been preplanned, every action purposeful. Except for her. Except his reaction to her. As well as his partner's untimely death.
Dane recalled his movements for the past few hours. Soon it would all be over. Or just begin. He was ready for it to be over. He had literally put his entire life on hold to take this assignment, immersing himself so deeply in the game that at times it had been hard to remember his life before. He hadn't seen his father or sisters in two years. From what Barry reported, he had a new niece, courtesy of his sister Beth Ann. His family knew, of course, that his job required him to disappear for long stretches of time. They didn't like it, but they also knew not to ask questions.

This particular assignment, though, had become the longest and toughest that anyone imagined. Sometimes, the only thing that kept him going was knowing that it would be his last undercover job. He had decided months ago that he'd had enough of covert operations. He was no longer willing to pay the price.
Watching Tessa, he realized that, now more than ever, he wanted his life back. He wanted his freedom back. His integrity. All the things he'd given up to take on this role.
Soon, he promised. Very soon. The end had already begun.
Sanchez had made his move. He left his Canadian headquarters. The women he was transporting on a private jet would be free by the morning. That was the good news. The bad news was that divers searching Lake Summer tonight had located Matt's body. Just as Tessa described. Stabbed in the back. Dane's gut tightened.
The noose around Snake's neck was tightening. Soon, the ax would fall on Bogen and Sanchez as well. With any luck, Snake and Bogen would receive the death penalty for Matt's murder, along with a host of other charges to be levied. From kidnapping to drug trafficking.

How Tessa would react was the only answer that eluded him. How would she feel about him when she learned the truth? How did he want her to feel? Would she understand why he couldn't tell her? Would she forgive him? Could he forgive himself?
Hell yes!
In fact, he would do it all over again if it meant it was the only way to have her in his life. He had his regrets about how he treated her and what he'd done to her life, but what he didn't regret was the fact that all those actions brought them to this point. The past was immutable. The future....
His flesh throbbed, pulling him away from the abyss of dark thoughts, but still he did not attempt to enter his bed. Guilt cooled his ardor. She was sleeping so peacefully, he was afraid he'd wake her.

Above him, the persistent drum of raindrops hit the roof. He started to leave the room when a different noise stopped him. In a heartbeat, Dane was on the bed, beside her, reaching to where her arms were outstretched above her head. I should have freed her hands first thing. Dumb fool. He berated himself.
Tessa whimpered, rolling and twisting, tangling in the sheets as she fought the unseen terror in her nightmare, seeking to be free of the bed and the bonds that held her immobile.
"Tess," Dane whispered fiercely.
He released her and yanked back the confining weight of the quilt before gathering her close. "Tessa, wake up. You're dreaming, sweetheart."
She pushed against him, her eyes fluttering open in confusion. "Dane." She buried her face in his chest, seeking sanctuary from the spinning remains of her desolate dream. "It was awful."
"It's okay. I'm here."
"I keep thinking it would go away."
"It will." He shifted, easing farther down the bed, wrapping her more tightly in his arms. She shivered. The rain picked up, the thunder lower, closer.
"How long has it been raining?"
"It just started," he whispered.
"I can't see the clock."
"Power's out. It's going to be a bad storm." He kissed the top of her head. "Go back to sleep."
"I'm cold."

Keeping one arm around her shoulders, Dane grabbed the quilt and pulled it back up, bundling them both in its warmth.
"Better?" he asked.
She nodded, pressing her nose against his shoulder as she burrowed against him. "I wonder if that nightmare will stay with me forever?"
Tell her the truth, you dummy. End it here and now, while she's in your arms. What difference would a few hours make?
Dane rejected the thought, pulling her closer, hugging tightly as if to squeeze out the night terrors that tormented her. Keenly aware this was his last time to offer consolation in the dark. Soon....
Slowly, her trembling subsided beneath whispered comforts and reassuring strokes. The room was alive with the sounds of the storm.
Eyes shut, Dane allowed his hands to sweep over her, imprinting her curves into his memory. The thought of not seeing her again was painful, foreign. But what kind of relationship could they have after this? The odds were against him.

It had to be her choice. A choice made in complete freedom. Away from captivity. Away from him. Christ! Could he let her go if it meant not seeing her again? Not being able to touch her, hold her in his arms like they were now?