“Because I’m in love with you, dammit!” he bellowed.

The room went suddenly, utterly still. Faith was certain she could hear the dust motes settling on the furniture. She stared at Shane with her mouth hanging open as his words sank in. He was in love with her. He was in love with her, but he didn’t appear to be very happy about it. Well, she thought, her head swimming, that definitely gave them something in common.

John Banks cleared his throat discreetly, breaking the tense silence. Faith hauled a deep breath into her lungs as she stepped away from the confrontation, her cheeks turning pink. Shane’s broad shoulders sagged as he forced the tension from his muscles. He stared down at the floor, not quite able to believe he had just blurted out his deepest feelings-in front of witnesses, no less.

“Agent Callan,” Banks said neutrally as he rose from his chair, brushing ineffectually at his wrinkled suit, “may I speak with you in private?”

Without a word or a glance for anyone, Shane turned on his heel and led the way out through the French doors onto the stone terrace. He stalked to the farthest corner and faced the sea as he lit another cigarette, noting with grim amusement that his hands were shaking.

Dammit, he was losing it completely, losing his edge, losing his perspective… losing his heart… losing his mind.

“I should have taken the R and R,” he said, wryly referring to the advice his boss had given him after the Silvanus bust.

Banks leaned back against the stone wall that surrounded the terrace, his tired eyes calmly studying his best agent. “What? And miss all this fun?”

Shane shot him a venomous look that had the older man chuckling wearily and mumbling under his breath, “The bigger they are…”

Sidestepping the comment, Shane went back to what the professional in him considered the heart of the matter-the case. “I won’t let her play bait in this game.”

“She’s serious about ending this thing, Shane. She wouldn’t have called me in otherwise.”

“I don’t care how serious she is. She’s not calling the shots here; she’s a civilian.”

“Yes, she’s a civilian. Meaning she doesn’t have to take orders from us. If she wants to walk down the main street of Anastasia and invite this creep to take a shot at her, you couldn’t do a damn thing to stop her.”

Shane’s eyes narrowed and glittered dangerously as he said, “You want to make a bet?”

“What are you going to do?” Banks asked with a sarcastic laugh. “Hit her over the head with your dinosaur bone and carry her off to your cave? This is the modern era, pal. Ladies have minds of their own, believe me. Besides, she does have a say in this; it’s her life we’re tinkering with.”

Looking every inch like a cornered panther, Shane wheeled on the man who knew him better than anyone. “I mean it, John. I won’t have her put in any more danger than she’s already in.”

Banks didn’t flinch at the outburst, didn’t blink. “What’s the problem here, Shane? What Faith is proposing is our original scenario taken just one step further. We’re dealing with a single player, a single variable who may or may not be dangerous. So far he’s been long on threats and short on action.”

Shane gave a harsh laugh. “That’s supposed to make it okay? He hasn’t actually killed her yet, so we should give him one good shot at it-just in case he’s really serious?”

Ignoring the sarcasm, Banks pressed on. “We can make certain he won’t have a chance of getting to her.”

Shane’s jaw clenched as he turned to stare out at the ocean again. His voice was low and strained. “There’s always a chance.”

For a long moment the only sound was that of the ocean pounding the shore a hundred feet below. The wind whipped at Banks’s wildly mussed hair as he turned and leaned his forearms on top of the stone wall. “This isn’t Quantico, Shane,” he said softly, his voice almost gentle. “She’s not Ellie.”

Shane’s heart clenched at the comparison. He had loved Ellie Adamson. He had lost her because his emotions had clouded his judgment. Now he prayed his old friend and colleague was right, because he knew with bleak certainty that if he lost Faith, he would lose everything. She was his hope, his salvation, his one slim chance at a future that wasn’t empty. What he felt for her was so intense, it was like a fire in his soul where for so long there had been nothing but cold and darkness.

“We’ll do it her way.” Banks made the announcement, then took a deep breath and changed the subject. “Rumor has it Strauss bought a boat in Mazatlan. Looks like he’s taking his act south after all.”

“Yeah,” Shane commented absently, not really listening. His gaze had fallen on Faith as she came through the French doors and onto the terrace.

He loved her. He’d forgotten how painful love could be. It was a relentless ache inside him-knowing he loved her and being terrified of losing her.

How had such an innocent woman become entangled in such a dangerous situation? Faith didn’t belong in the world of espionage. Of course, Shane acknowledged the irony, he never would have met her otherwise. Bitterly he wondered if they wouldn’t have both been better off. Certainly she would have been.

“If you’ll excuse me, Ms. Kincaid,” Banks said, straightening away from the wall. He smoothed his hands over the lapels of his hopelessly rumpled suit and gave Faith a wry smile. “I believe I’ll go freshen up before we discuss this further.”

“Of course,” Faith murmured, her eyes on Shane as his boss made his exit.

“You’re getting your wish,” he said flatly, tossing down his cigarette and grinding it against the flagstone with his shoe.

Faith wondered if he realized the thing she had wished for most was his love. He was giving her that, albeit begrudgingly-but it was a start at least. The next step was to close the door on her past so they could be free to look for a future together. It was clear by Shane’s stony expression that her idea for achieving that end was the wish he was talking about.

She folded her arms over her chest as the wind cut through the yellow Shaker sweater she wore. “It’s the best way.”

His expression incredulous, Shane barked a laugh. “You’re an expert?”

Faith met his angry gaze, though tears rose in her eyes. She was all through backing away from trouble, even when it came in a six-foot-four-inch package. “I’m an expert at feeling helpless and afraid and manipulated. I have to put an end to that, Shane. Please understand.”

He stared at her for a long moment, unable to reconcile the conflicts within himself. She was asking for his support, but he was simply too afraid to give it to her. She wanted to risk her life and have his blessing to do it. Anger burned in his chest. How dare she make him love her, then ask him to let her get killed. Dammit, why couldn’t she have left his heart alone? That was where he belonged-alone, in the shadows.

Emotions roiling inside him like an angry sea, he said, “Do what you want.”

Faith squeezed her eyes shut against the pain and held her breath as she listened to him walk away.

It wasn’t a bad evening by coastal standards, Faith thought as she wandered away from the house, strolling through the lush grass twenty yards in from the edge of the cliff. Clouds had rolled in, promising rain later on, but the fog bank that was such a constant this time of year was nothing more than wisps tonight. Bits of it floated past her like thin strips of cotton candy. She tucked her hands into the pockets of her cardigan, hunched her shoulders against the chill, and walked on.

Dinner had come and gone, a vague memory of frozen pizza eaten during the discussion of the case. Setting a trap to catch the man terrorizing her had been Faith’s idea, but she remembered little of the conversation. Shane had occupied her attention almost to the exclusion of all else.