He opened his mouth, then thought better of entering into a discussion on the logic of women with her. He bit down hard on his impulsive reply. She laughed again, and he realized she was teasing him. He found himself laughing with her.

He tugged a little on her ankle, his thumb sliding over the petals of the rose. “I think we can safely say this is the source of Whitney’s ability to track you. He’s using a satellite, but only intermittently, which means he’s using it for something else, something more important, and can only spare it occasionally to check on you and the other women who escaped the compound.”

“That’s if each of the tattoos actually carries the same ability.”

Kane shrugged. “Why bother giving the women a tattoo if it wasn’t useful to him?”

She winced. “I know we should have been suspicious. We wanted to believe we meant something—anything—to him. He was the only constant in our lives, other than each other.”

“I wasn’t passing judgment, Rose.” His heart ached for her when she looked so sad—a child desperate for the love of a parent—and finding out once again that parent had betrayed her.

“It’s just that I know better than to ever give him the benefit of the doubt, and yet, there’s this part of me, so childish, that keeps hoping we meant something to him.

He raised us. We did everything he wanted, no matter how frightened we were or how difficult or painful it was.” She shook her head and then kissed the baby. “I can’t let that happen to him.”

“We won’t, sweetheart. And we’ll find a way to disable the tracking device in the tattoo. Javier or Jaimie will know what to do. They are practically hardwired into their electronics.”

“Won’t I lead them right to your unit?”

“He won’t come after us with Mack and the others helping to protect you. And if he did send someone, they’ll run into a wall.” He spoke with absolute confidence, believing it the truth. His unit would fight to the death to keep Rose and the baby from Whitney. He glanced out the windows at the gathering darkness. “It’s almost time for me to go check on our two friends.”

Rose sat outside in the evening for an hour, giving the illusion of being heavy with child, just meditating in the night and seemingly oblivious to the two men watching her. Kane figured the act would buy them a little time. He went out before her each night hunting the two, getting close enough to listen to their conversations, gathering intel he hoped would let them know when Whitney planned to make his move. In truth, all they were doing was buying time for their son.

“Let me put the baby down,” she said and immediately stood up.

He hadn’t stepped back to give her room, and her body brushed against his. Her scent immediately enveloped him. She smelled like warmth and sunlight. Like silk and satin. He couldn’t stop himself, although he knew better. His arms swept around her, and he just stood, holding the two of them, drawing a strange sort of peace from their very existence. Rose didn’t step away from him or stiffen as he expected her to. She held their son and leaned into Kane, resting her head against his chest.

He curled his fingers around the nape of her neck. “We have to actually choose a name,” Kane murmured above her head. “We can’t keep calling him ‘baby.’ When he’s fifteen he might resent it.” His fingers began a slow massage. Night was falling, casting muted purple shadows along the wall. Stars were beginning to scatter across the open sky. He would be going outside as soon as it was fully dark, and tonight he was reluctant, wanting to linger with her. “It’s been seven days. That’s long enough to figure out what you want to call him.”

Rose seemed to burrow closer to him, relaxing beneath his touch. “You’re the one who won’t agree on a name.”

“My son is not having some dumb name. I think you come up with the worst things you can possibly think of just to see my reaction.”

Rose’s soft laughter told him that he’d guessed right. He bent his head and kissed the top of all that silky black hair. “You’re impossible.” Reluctantly he allowed his hands to drop away.

Rose didn’t move immediately. She rubbed her face against his chest before she stepped away. “It’s not like I have tons of family to give me ideas, Kane. All my sisters have flower names—which we’re not doing to him.”

“Sebastian comes to mind. Has to do with soldiers and courage and looking out for us,” Kane suggested awkwardly. “Sebastian is considered the patron saint of soldiers.”

She frowned as she put the baby into the warmer. “What does that mean?”

He shrugged. “Just a suggestion. You can choose a name. Just not a crazy one,” he qualified.

She studied his face. The hard jaw. The etched lines. Very gently she stroked her hand over his tough features. “Sebastian it is. You can tell me what a patron saint is later, since I have no knowledge of such things. Sebastian Kane.”

“Sebastian Kane Cannon. You’re going to marry me and use my last name, right?”

“Is that supposed to be a proposal?”

He wrapped his arm around her waist and tipped her head up toward his. “I can make you happy, Rose. And I can protect the two of you from Whitney and anyone else who wants to experiment on us or kill us. I’ll always be loyal, but you have to know I’m a soldier. That’s who I am. I have a family we’ll be part of. My first loyalty will always be to you and the boy, but I’ll do what it takes to protect my unit as well.”

“Are you trying to convince me to stay with you or to run?”

“I don’t want you to stay under false pretenses.” He framed her face with both hands and let himself fall into her dark, almond eyes. She could take his breath and any good sense he’d ever had and it was perfectly okay with him. He might feel like an idiot, but that was okay as well—as long as he had her. “Fighting Whitney is always going to be a part of my life. Not just for us but for every other GhostWalker and the children they’ll have.”

She nodded her head. “I can accept that. I figure he’d just keep coming after me.”

“I said children,” he pointed out.

A slow smile curved her mouth. “I caught that. I’m actually quite intelligent and quick on the uptake, Kane. I knew you said that for a reason. I’m not afraid of having more children.”

“I’m going to kiss you.”

A dimple appeared beside the corner of her mouth. “Do you think it necessary to tell me first?”

“I was being a gentleman and warning you.”

“I think if you’re planning on marrying me, you should know a few things about me. Kisses will be an everyday requirement.”

Kane didn’t need any more encouragement. He’d been afraid Rose would shy away from physical contact, and he was prepared to take his time—get her used to his touch. Kissing had the green light, and he was more than ready to take full advantage of the situation. A man could do a lot with kissing when he was serious about it.

Kane slipped out of the house as he did each night. Rose always made a pretense of opening the door in the evening and looking around, which allowed him to move into the shadows unobserved. He knew if the sentries were watching, they’d have their binoculars on Rose. They had no idea anyone else was even in the general vicinity, let alone in the house with her. He knew the moment he left, she set alarms and crawled into the space along the windows with a sniper rifle to cover him.

This was the only time he ever really worried. He knew the tunnel left them vulnerable. Rose couldn’t watch him and both entrances. And she had the baby to look after, which he’d pointed out repeatedly had to be her first priority. As a wife, she was going to be a handful. She definitely didn’t take his suggestions—or his orders. She smiled at him, her eyes looking at him with an expression that twisted him up inside, but she didn’t allow whatever she felt for him to stop her from doing exactly what she wanted—or what she thought needed to be done.

He made his way to the first slope before turning back to send a small breeze low over the sand to obscure any tracks he might have made. It was always the little things that tripped a soldier up. He had learned to pay attention to the smallest detail. He stayed low, knowing it would be almost impossible to see him moving along the ground, especially as he stayed in the darker dirt patches or near boulders and waves of saw grass.

The camp Whitney’s men had set up was only about a mile away, and they were getting careless. They left tracks often. More, he sometimes smelled them smoking or drinking. Twice he smelled meat cooking. Carlson James often prowled close to the house and seemed to be getting surlier with each night passing. If their orders were to wait until they’d confirmed Rose had given birth, Kane was certain they’d never make the distance. Both men were bored, and neither had the disposition for being dropped in a desert and gathering information over time. Kane was certain that was part of the reason they’d failed to be included in the military’s GhostWalker program.

They’d even gotten somewhat sloppy about their camp, leaving supplies out where the coyotes would be drawn in. Fargo wanted to hunt the coyotes to give them something to do, but in that, Carlson so far had prevailed, pointing out that Rose would likely hear the shots.

Kane took up position a scant twenty yards from the camp, maneuvering on his belly, pushing with toes and elbows until he was in the midst of a pile of boulders. Grass and weeds grew sparsely in the cracks. A lizard scooted out of his way but didn’t scamper off toward the camp, preferring to crawl beneath the smaller of the rocks to hide.

Carlson James whittled at a piece of wood, shaping a point on the end with his knife. A pile of sticks about a foot long each lay in front of him, each with a sharp point on the end. A few feet away, Fargo was doing the same thing, although he wasn’t putting much effort into it.

He sighed. “I can’t believe we’re stuck out here resorting to hunting coyotes with homemade arrows.”

Carlson made a sound of disgust deep in his throat. “You won’t let me grab the bitch and get out of here, so what else can we do?”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Fargo said. “How ’bout we go into town and get us some company. A pretty little senorita for us to pass the time with.”

Carlson looked up, speculation in his eyes. The two men stared at each other for a long time. Carlson slowly smiled. “Now that’s not a bad idea. You’ve got something there, Fargo.” He glanced in the direction of the subterranean hideaway. “Although one of us needs to keep an eye out around here.”

Kane’s gut tightened. Carlson’s tone had been casual—too casual.

Fargo sent his partner a sharp look. “Don’t go getting stupid on me. You know I have to document every damn time you say that bitch’s name or refer to her. Whitney’s expecting you to break. You have to beat him at his own game. As it is, I’m only recording about half the time you’re obsessing about her.”

“I’m not obsessing. She pisses me off, that’s all. She was supposed to be mine. Once I get my hands on her, she’ll be begging to stay with me.” Carlson threw his knife point down in the sand beside the stack of makeshift arrows.

“Regardless of what you call it, you have to show him you have discipline. That’s what this little game is all about, Carlson. You have to play to win.”

“You can say that because you know if you keep me from breaking in there and taking her, you’ll get the woman you want. You’ll win.”

Fargo shrugged. “I’m not so sure of that, Carlson. Look what he promised you, and did he deliver? No, he gave her to some other bastard and left you hanging. You did everything he asked of you, and he still screwed you.”