Page 22 of K-9 Prime Target

“No. I want to hear. I need to remember there are bigger things in the world to worry about.”

So he told her. About the families who mourned and the children who were lost. And the ones who carried on. The children who still laughed and played among the rubble, the families who camped in blasted houses with no electricity or water and still celebrated birthdays and holidays and being together. “I was struck by their resiliency,” he said. “They had a beautiful country and so much of it has been wrecked. But they have faith it can be beautiful again. I tried to convey that hope in my videos.”

“That’s so inspiring,” she said.

“And overwhelming. I was sorry to leave, and yet I was glad to come home, and to see Angel again.”

“I thought she went everywhere with you.”

“She usually does, but I couldn’t take her to a war zone. She stayed with my ma and da, who spoiled her right rotten. She gained five pounds by the time I returned home and wasn’t happy at all when I put her on a diet.”

She laughed. A genuine laugh. “If you ask her, I’m sure she’ll tell you I’m starving her,” he said. “I was eating a sandwich the other day and she actually tried to snatch it out of my hand.”

“The poor baby,” she said, giggling.

“She’s small but fierce.”

“You do know that when we first met, your dog is the one I was really attracted to,” she said.

So she would admit her attraction. Well, it hadn’t been a big secret. “I figured that out pretty quickly.”

“You weren’t too upset?”

“Hey, at least she got you to give me a second look.”

“It didn’t take long for me to see your better qualities.” She looked away. Did he imagine the flush to her cheeks? Maybe it was that blush, or the wine, or being with her these past two days, but he was feeling reckless. “I’m still attracted to you,” he said, his voice rough.

She swallowed, the movement drawing attention to the silky white column of her throat. “I’m not the same person I was then,” she said.

“And I’m not the same man. None of us are the same. But there’s still a connection.”

She shook her head. “You’re in Ireland when you’re not traveling the world. I’m here. And now Nicholson is here, too. It’s too complicated.”

He covered her hand with his, and she fell silent. “I’m not asking you for anything,” he said. “I’m just being honest about what I’m feeling. I’ll never try to take advantage of you. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes.” The word was a whisper, but he felt it as much as if it had been a shout. She sipped more wine, and when she looked at him, her smile was bright, but forced. “You were very reckless this afternoon, going after that snowboarder. That part of you hasn’t changed, at least.”

“Says the woman who made a career out of screaming down steep, icy mountains.”

“I don’t do that anymore.”

“Do you miss it?” he asked.

“Sometimes.” Her expression grew pensive. “After the ordeal with Nicholson, racing wasn’t the same. I couldn’t stop wondering who was watching me. What were they thinking? Was what happened my fault because I put myself in the public eye?”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know that. Deep inside, I do. But I guess we humans always try to make sense of things, to find a reason why—even when something is senseless.”

The server stopped at their table. “Will there be anything else?”

Liam looked at Nina. She shook her head. “I need to go home now.”

They retrieved both dogs from his room. She didn’t object when he insisted on walking her to her car. He waited until they reached the parking lot behind ski patrol headquarters before he said, “I’m coming with you.”

“Liam, you don’t have to…”

“I have to. For my own peace of mind. You can drop me off at my car and I’ll follow you. If Nicholson is at your house, or if he left another note, do you really want to be alone?”