“If you— Well, wow!

“Wow, what?”

“Doyle just did a handspring, but with one hand.”

He looked up in time to see Annika give Doyle a congratulatory hug. “Great.”

By the time he’d finished building two listening devices, on a table in the living area where he had room and some damn quiet, the moon was up, the stars out. And he needed a break.

He walked outside, and down, sat on the steps to look out at the sea.

“How did it go?”

He glanced back and up, saw Bran on the terrace. “I got two done, and tested. I need—”

“Wait, I’ll come down.”

When Bran came out, he sat on the steps, passed Sawyer a beer. “Sasha said you stuck with water or caffeine during the build. I thought you could use this now.”

“Yeah, I can, thanks. Needed a break. It’s not complicated so much as exacting, especially when it’s makeshift. I could work on the last one tonight, but I think I’d start getting sloppy. We can wait until tomorrow night to plant them, or go with two.”

“We talked about it at dinner, already opted for tomorrow night. Don’t push yourself tonight.”

“Appreciate it.” Content with the company, with the beer, Sawyer turned his mind on the what’s next. “I can get us inside Malmon’s villa, no problem. Since we won’t have to deal with windows or doors to get in, we don’t have to worry about an alarm system. But if they run to motion detectors, that’s a problem.”

“Ah.” With a nod, Bran leaned back against the steps, looked up at the star-strewn sky and the waxing moon. “And one none of us considered.”

Since the decision to check out Malmon’s villa, Sawyer had considered a lot. “Or internal cameras, that’s another. If I knew, one, they had motion detector alarms or security cameras, and two, what type, and three, where the system’s based, I could maybe bypass.”

Amusement had Bran’s scarred eyebrow lifting. “Is that the case then?”

On a quick laugh, Sawyer lifted the beer. “I don’t make breaking and entering a habit, but it’s good to know things, and how things work. You can bank on Malmon installing that kind of security while he’s in there. We don’t know if it’s already there. And if I’d thought of it before, maybe Riley could have found out.”

“She may still—we’ll tap her on it. Otherwise, we take our chances, I think. If we set off any alarms, we can be out again before anyone checks.”

“I can probably make it look like a glitch. But the cameras—”

“I can find a way to deal with those, if there are any to deal with.”

“All right. If we’re back around five like usual tomorrow, I’ll have the third one done before sundown.”

“More than soon enough, as we think to wait until about midnight. Doyle wants a look at the grounds as well, and we’d want quiet and privacy for that.”

“Can’t forget what Doyle wants.”

Bran took a contemplative sip of his own beer. “Problem with Doyle, is there?”

“No. No . . . No problem.”

To Bran, three “nos” in succession meant yes. “I see he’s learned some new moves from Annika.”

“What— Moves?” Sawyer’s head swiveled so fast, Bran wondered it didn’t twist off like a bottle cap. “Oh, right, right. The famous one-handed handspring.”

“A forward one, yes. She claims she can teach him a backward one in no time. There’s affection and admiration from him to her and back again. And, mo chara, if you think there’s more than that on either side, you’re, well, a git, that’s all. She’s yours, but for the asking. And now, since I’ve a mind to have my own woman, I’ll say good night to you. And sleep well,” he added as he rose to go inside.

His for the asking, Sawyer thought and glugged down more beer. Not how it looked, not how it felt right at the moment. Besides, asking didn’t seem right. She was new to this world. She still got words mixed up, had to have things explained to her. How could it be right to ask her to sleep with him?

Added to that, which was more than enough to his mind, she only had three months—less than two and a half now, he remembered—before she had to go back to the sea.

He was very much afraid if he asked, if he took, if he had her, he’d never in all his life—wherever and whenever he went—get over her.

He should never have touched her in the first place, given them both ideas. The simple solution? Don’t touch her again. God knew they had enough to do, to risk without adding in sex and heartbreak.

He rose, took the beer with him to his room. Opened the door, and nearly dropped the bottle.

She sat on the side of his bed, got to her feet as he stood there.

“I waited for you.”

“Okay.” Carefully, he set the beer aside. “Do you need something?”

“Yes. So do you, I think. And so I waited for you.”

Watching his face, she lifted her hands, nudged the two thin straps from her shoulders, and with a kind of shrug had the dress pooling at her feet.

The single thought that shot through his head was: I’m a dead man. In a fumbling rush, he shut the door.

“Annika, don’t . . .”