Chapter 4

Split, Croatia

This was, quite possibly, the stupidest thing she'd ever done.

Or the best.

She was in Croatia. Standing on Croatian soil. Breathing Croatian air. It felt like a dream - though the twenty-one straight hours of travel she and Jackson had just endured were probably partially to blame for that. After two restless flights and a long layover, the two of them finally stood outside the airport in Split, a small city on the Croatian coast.

She was still in shock that Jackson had agreed to let her come. When she'd threatened to keep the atlas, she'd half expected him to leap across the car and wrestle it out of her hands anyway. He could have easily overpowered her. Instead, he'd just stared at her - long enough to make her squirm in her seat and make her entire body go hot - before giving a single nod of agreement. She still had no idea what was going on, but she wasn't about to question it. This was her chance to have the adventure she'd always dreamed of, wasn't it?

If she was being honest, though, for every ounce of excitement she felt, there was an equal measure of fear. For a moment back in Jackson's car, she'd felt wild and reckless and brave. She'd wanted to see the world. To do something crazy and unexpected. But she'd also been terrified. In a night, her safe, boring world had imploded. She was still trying to process everything she'd just learned. And the thought of sitting and waiting at a friend's house, not knowing what was going on, was far worse than the alternative.

Or so she thought at the time. Now? Her heart was pounding in a way that she couldn't contribute entirely to excitement.

She clutched her purse a little closer. The bag was just large enough to fit the atlas, and she was afraid to let it out of her grip. Jackson hadn't asked for it yet, though she'd thought he might.

She glanced over at him. He'd called someone when they landed, and now he was scanning the handful of cars and buses that drove by. He was looking away from her, so she took the moment to study him in the dawn light. She was still having trouble getting over the subtle changes in him. His bigger muscles were one thing, of course, but he also carried himself differently now. He'd always had a certain worldliness about him - she'd known, the very first time she'd looked into his eyes, that he'd seen things and done things she'd never understand - but there was a depth to it that hadn't been there before. There was a wariness, an alertness - like he was always ready for trouble. He'd changed so much in these last nine months. It was almost like looking at a stranger.

He was a stranger when you were together, she told herself. She'd tried not to think too hard about his mysterious absences when they were a couple, but never in her wildest dreams would she have guessed the sort of life he was actually leading. She still wasn't entirely sure this wasn't a joke.

As if he could sense her thinking about him, he suddenly looked back at her. She turned away, embarrassed at being caught staring. She didn't want him to think she was checking him out. There were a lot of complicated feelings going on in her chest right now, but that didn't change what had happened between them. She couldn't forgive him for the way he'd left things.

"My teammate Leo is coming to get us," he said. "He'll be taking us down to the boat."

"Boat?" Her eyes flicked back to him.

He nodded. "The guys have one ready to go. I told you that we knew Rinaldi met his fiancée in the Croatian isles. We're just waiting for the atlas to tell us exactly where."

It wasn't a direct request for the atlas, but she shifted uncomfortably just the same. Somehow he'd moved without her realizing it, and now he towered over her. He reached out, and for a split second she thought he was going for the atlas - he was so much bigger and stronger that it would be easy for him to take it away from her - but instead his hand moved toward her shoulder. His fingers paused an inch away from her skin.

"Your strap fell," he said.

Oh. On their layover at Gatwick Airport, she'd taken the opportunity to purchase something other than her ratty sweats to wear, but the options had been limited. She'd finally settled on a tank dress with "LONDON" printed across the chest, but it was at least a size too big.

She reached for the strap, but Jackson had finally decided to move. Her fingers brushed his, and she yanked her hand away while he fixed the strap himself. And then he lingered, letting his rough, calloused thumb rest against the bare skin of her shoulder.

When she tilted her face up, she saw a look she knew all too well. A look that even now made her stomach flip-flop. Jackson had never been afraid to make it clear when he wanted something. And the want in his eyes right now was as intense and as raw as it had been the very first time he'd grabbed her and crushed her against him in need. It was the same look he'd shown her on that very last night, when he'd made love to her as if the world were ending before disappearing into the dawn without a word.

No.

She jerked away from him, stumbling backwards away from that touch. From that look.

"Charlie," he said, and there was something in his voice - a rawness, an edge - that made her shiver.

She backed away another step. "I can't."

"You can't what?" There was a touch of humor in his voice now, though his eyes were still dark with hunger. Suddenly, he frowned. "You don't have a boyfriend, do you?"

"No," she admitted. "But that doesn't matter." Honestly, she'd only been on a handful of dates since Jackson had left her - and none of them had been good. But he wasn't allowed to walk back into her life after all these months and act like he still wanted her. He had left her.

She could feel him staring at her, though she'd dropped her eyes to her sandals - another airport purchase - and shifted further away. In her mind, she could still see those handwritten words he'd left her: I hope you find that man who can love and support you the way you deserve to be loved and supported. I'm sorry I ever let you believe that man might be me.

He'd walked away. Broken her heart. And given her the biggest bullshit explanation in the history of bullshit explanations. She refused to put herself through that again.

"Charlie," he said, softer this time. He closed the distance between them once more, and her heart nearly stopped.

Be strong, she told herself, though she was finding it hard to move or speak.

But a car suddenly stopped at the curb in front of them, and a man climbed out. Jackson went on the alert immediately, spinning around and placing himself between her and the new arrival.

But almost as quickly as he'd tensed up, his shoulders relaxed.

"Leo," he said with a laugh. "Fuck, man. You scared the shit out of me."

"Well, good morning to you, too." The other man came up and clapped Jackson on the back, grinning. Even considering the very complicated things Charlotte was feeling toward Jackson right now, it was hard not to notice how attractive this stranger was - and it didn't help that he was wearing nothing but a pair of tattered khaki shorts. He'd clearly spent a lot of time in the sun, and his deep tan only emphasized the hard planes of his wide chest. His dark, wavy hair flopped across his eyes.

And then those eyes moved to her.

"So this is her, is it?" he said, still grinning as he looked her up and down. "The little troublemaker?"

Charlotte felt herself blush as Jackson knocked the other man on the side of the head.

"Charlie, this is Leo. He's an idiot." He released his friend. "Leo, this is Charlie - Charlotte."

Suddenly, the new arrival - Leo - had her hand, and as he bowed over her fingers, he also seemed to have acquired a thick Italian accent.

"A pleasure, bella," he said before his lips touched her skin. Her heart fluttered a little as his mouth brushed her knuckles, but she suspected her body might also be reacting to the way Jackson had suddenly stepped closer, right up against her side.

He's jealous, she realized. Or, if not quite that, then at least a little possessive of her. And her suspicions were only confirmed when Jackson grabbed Leo by the back of the neck and yanked him upright again.

"He thinks the accent helps him get chicks," Jackson said to her. "But he's from Chicago."

"But my parents were born in Venezia," Leo said, his dark eyes still gleaming. "And my entire extended family still lives there, so I can claim it if I want to."

Jackson rolled his eyes. "We don't have time for this. We should get to the boat."

"Of course," said Leo with a wink at Charlotte. "May I help you with your things, my dear?"

She didn't have much - just her purse with the atlas and her airport shopping bag with her old clothes stuffed inside - so she shook her head. "I'm fine, but thanks."

"Come on," Jackson said, slipping a hand against her lower back and leading her to the car. She ignored the tremor his touch sent up her spine.

Moments later, they were on their way from the airport into the city itself. Leo was driving, while Jackson had settled into the backseat with her.

"Everything's ready to go when we arrive," Leo said. "Xavier and Alexei were just returning with some supplies when I left."

"Good," said Jackson.

"Any more encounters with Nash's guys?"

"Not since we left Atlanta. Any word on Tav?"

"No."

An uneasy silence fell between the men. Charlotte understood very little of what they were discussing, but that only made her more curious.

"How many of you are there?" she heard herself ask. "On your team, I mean."

"Nine," said Jackson, at the same time Leo said, "Ten." There was another uncomfortable silence, until Leo told her, "There are only six of us coming today. Roth has the rest taking care of some other things." He grinned at her in the rear-view mirror. "Don't worry, there's plenty of room for you."

Jackson shifted beside her. "Just as long as everyone behaves themselves."

"I always behave myself," Leo countered, his smile widening.

Jackson shot a warning look at his teammate, though she doubted Leo saw it. She decided to shift the topic slightly.

"How long have you guys been doing this?" she asked. "The treasure hunting?" It still felt silly to call it that out loud, but Leo didn't even blink.

"Roth's been doing it the longest," he said. "Fifteen years, maybe more. He didn't put together this team until about five years ago, though. Handpicked everyone himself so we'd get a balanced set of skills between us. I've been here since the beginning. Jacky back there is our newest member. He hasn't even been with us a year yet. Became a full member back in September."

Jackson shifted in his seat. "That's enough, Leo. You don't need to bore her with our entire history."

But Charlotte was the opposite of bored. Instead, her mind was working rapidly as the pieces fell into place.

"September..." she murmured, half to herself. The month Jackson had left her. But that didn't make sense. He'd been disappearing on mysterious trips the whole time they were together.

"He had a pretty rigorous probationary period before that," Leo continued as if he'd read her mind. "Half the team wasn't convinced we needed another member. Complained it would just make each of our shares smaller, adding in another person. But our Jacky's one of the best."

"That's enough," said Jackson, clearly ready to end the conversation. But there was a knot in Charlotte's stomach and a lump in her throat that threatened to choke her. Parts of his last letter to her were suddenly making a whole lot more sense. His words rang loud and clear through her mind: I knew the moment I met you that this would be a mistake, that I'd only end up hurting you, but I couldn't help myself.

"You knew," she whispered. "You were already involved in all of this, and you'd decided from the beginning that you'd leave me when they made you a full member of the team."

Jackson slid closer to her and touched her gently on the cheek. "It wasn't like that, Goose. I was only trying to protect you."

"Bullshit!" She slapped his hand away. "And I told you to stop calling me that."

He let out a long breath, but he didn't move away from her. His nearness was suffocating, but she had nowhere to go in this car.

"I thought it would be easier for you," he said after a moment. "It was one thing when I was just training with them - I mean, I felt bad enough then about leaving you so often. But once they let me on as a full-fledged member of the team, I knew things would change. I'd be gone all the time. Doing all sorts of dangerous shit. I didn't want to put you through that. It wouldn't have been fair to you."

She let out a bitter laugh. "If you were concerned about my feelings, you should have asked me." Both her eyes and throat burned now, but she refused to acknowledge either. "If you were concerned about my feelings, you wouldn't have sneaked out in the middle of the night and left me some bullshit note."

He reached for her again. "Charlie - "

She blocked his touch once more. "This isn't... I mean, I'm not..." Emotions washed through her, one after the other: pain, heartache, regret. And then, eventually, a twisted sense of relief. She'd finally gotten a proper explanation for why he'd left. And in the wake of everything else, that understanding left her feeling strangely cold and calm.

"You needed your freedom," she said, and she didn't feel like she was about to cry anymore. He started to speak, but she cut him off. "I understand. Honestly. You wanted to see the world. To do exciting, dangerous things. And truly, this life suits you - at least from what I've seen so far. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you, and I was holding you back. Don't argue - you needed the freedom to do this for yourself. I can see that."

He was quiet for a long time after that, but he was still sitting so close that she could smell the sweat on his skin, could see the sunlight bouncing off the thin layer of sandy-brown stubble on his chin. She was afraid to look him in the eyes. A stillness had settled over her, and as long as she maintained her composure, as long as she had that control, she thought she'd be all right. She couldn't blame Jackson for the decision he'd made. He'd just spent the last nine months traveling around the world, living a life of adventure. She'd spent that time working the same dull nine-to-five job she'd had for nearly eight years. Forever afraid to take that leap.

She felt the barest touch of fingers against her hair. "Sometimes people just move in different directions, Charlie."

And sometimes one person moves and the other is too afraid to do anything but stay where she is. After all, the only reason she was here at all right now was because Jackson had shown up at her door. If it weren't for him, she'd probably have spent the last twenty-four hours digging through paperwork and begging her boss not to fire her.

Up in the front seat, Leo coughed, and Charlotte shrank away from Jackson. For a moment, she'd forgotten they weren't alone. Jackson, however, seemed unconcerned by the fact that they had a witness.

"Charlie, I - "

"How far to the boat?" she asked Leo, unwilling to have this conversation right now.

"Uh, about fifteen minutes, I'd guess," said Leo, looking a little amused at the drama playing out in the backseat.

"We'll continue this talk later," Jackson said, low enough that only she could hear. She could tell by his tone that he had no intention of letting her escape this conversation a second time.

Her cheeks burned as she turned to look out the window. Jackson shifted slightly away from her, but the backseat still felt too small, too close - or maybe it was just that, near or far, he affected her completely. He always had, whether she liked it or not.

The question was - when the time came, would she be strong enough to walk away from him again?