“Yeah,” he said. “I do.”
They sat in silence for awhile. It wasn’t awkward; it was... comfortable. One of Rebecca’s tiny bare feet – he noticed she rarely wore shoes if she could help it – tucked beneath his leg just a hair. She seemed unaware of the incidental contact, but he wasn’t. He made no move to shift away, not anymore. He’d accepted her need to touch; he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit to enjoying it a little, too. The fact that she wanted the contact with him, however chaste and innocent, was like a pleasant stroke to his male pride. She didn’t touch anyone else the way she touched him, he couldn’t help but notice, which kept him from having to kill anyone local.
“Can I ask you something?” she said finally.
Kane nodded. She could ask him anything. She was probably the only person in the world at the moment to whom he would extend that privilege.
“Why were you there, in the jungle?”
Shit. She had to ask him one of the few things he couldn’t answer. Everything about what he and his brothers did was strictly need to know, and no one outside of the family could be brought in to the fold without a unanimous vote from the brothers. So far the privilege had only been extended to wives.
Kane looked away, pondering the lowering sun before answering. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell you the details.”
She nodded, as if she had expected as much. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
The thing was, Kane wanted to tell her. Something, at least. Something that might keep her from pulling away, because he liked her right where she was.
“My brothers and I - sometimes we are called to go into bad situations when the government can’t. We try to make things... better.”
*
They had that much in common at least. She often found herself in situations where she could help when others could not, often because of the rules of whatever organization had sent them there in the first place. It was one of the reasons she didn’t belong to any one group officially, and why she was usually welcomed along. She didn’t have to play by the same rules.
She paused, afraid to ask him anything further. This was the longest amount of time he’d ever spent with her – voluntarily, anyway. She didn’t want to do or say anything that would hasten his departure. Even if they just sat in silence, there was something about him that was ... she searched for the right word ... soothing.
Not that that made any sense at all. He had to be one of the biggest, most lethal men she’d ever come across. In the jungle, she had seen first-hand just how deadly he could be. In a matter of seconds he had killed two men with sharpshooter accuracy, then sliced open the neck of a third to free her. And there had been no regret in his eyes at all. Just cold, calculated purpose.
He wasn’t the friendliest of men, either. While the rest of the family seemed to have a calm, easygoing manner about them, Kane was different. He was a little rougher than the others, had a wilder intensity to him that excited and scared her at the same time. And even when he was among the others he seemed to remain on the fringes. Quiet. Watchful. Detached. It was something with which she could empathize.
But despite all that, around him she felt safe, an instinctual knowledge that nothing bad would happen as long as he was around. And even more than that, deep down inside, he touched a part of her no one else had, not even Aidan. Her brother loved her, but Kane understood her. He was the only person she didn’t feel she had to pretend around, because even when she tried the look in his eyes told her he knew she was full of shit.
“I never thanked you for saving my life.”
Kane’s expression didn’t really change, but she felt the shift in energy around him. His eyes gained a new intensity, and she felt a surge of... something, like the way the air feels right before a thunderstorm. Though when he spoke, his voice was just as deep, just as resonant as any other time.
“You saved mine. I can’t think of a better way of showing gratitude than that.”
She smiled at that, knowing differently. Kane would have figured a way out of that mess, or his brothers would have. If anything, she probably made it more difficult on him. But for whatever reason, she hadn’t been able to leave him. Rebecca had no intention of sharing that particular tidbit with him. He’d probably walk away and never come back. Instead she simply went with it.
“In some cultures we’d be indebted to each other for life, each responsible for the soul of the other.”