“I can’t stop what I do, Cassandra.” He lifted both her hands to his lips and brushed her knuckles with soft kisses. Then, sounding as if he was ripping the words from his gut, he added, “Not even for you. And what I do is dangerous. I lost one of my best friends last year. He caught a piece of shrapnel right in front of me. I know how it feels to have to go on after that. I’ve seen how hard it is on the people left behind. I’ve lived it. I can’t ask someone to do that for me.”
“You see,” she said, inching just a little closer so the wide hem of her dress brushed his legs. “That’s emotionally open and honest. That’s what’s important. Not the details of a mission or the location of your next raid.”
Frowning, he shook his head.
“I don’t think you heard me.”
“I did,” she promised. “I hear
