The exhaustion of the fight caught up with me as I struggled to maintain a hold on the wet, frosty bars, my stretched-out arms screaming after the first minute. I dared to steal a glance below, regretting it instantly. The beauty I once saw in those rolling waves had now turned into curling, crashing shadows. One wrong slip and I would plummet down into a premature watery grave.

I was clutching the middle bar of the railing – it was not so drastic as hanging onto the bottom, but I was still unable to angle my body to manoeuvre through the gap. I made the bold decision to free one of my hands and reach up, taking in a deep breath, the weight of the fight holding me down.

I exhaled, groaning in exasperation as my arm dropped.

"You're stuck now," said the woman. She was panting beside me, even more tired than I was as her face turned red, her limbs vibrating so violently she shook the bars. "This is what happens when you cross Mika." "And you obeyed him," I groaned. "Look what happened."

She scowled, opening her mouth to speak but I was finished. I had to conserve energy – every ounce was essential.

I would not die so easily – not yet.

I made another attempt for the bar, assembling every scrap of strength left within me to leap and grab it.

I missed by barely an inch. The tips of my nails scraped against the metal and I dropped to the final bar with a gasp, having to wrap my arms around it just to hold on.

She laughed at me. "You're wasting energy. Just give up already! My men are coming for me, and who do you have? No-one! Agent Barnes is a selfish bastard. He'll—" She choked as her grip faltered. "He'll leave you behind just as he does to everyone else."

I shot her a glare more powerful than any bullet, my eyes widening as my grip slipped again on the salted, sea-soaked metal. Dead algae greased up my hands, knocking one off so it swung at my side.

She laughed again as I gulped. "Have a nice swim," she said, nodding at the water.

I ignored her, trying to pace my breathing. I needed two hands on the bar.

I swung my loose arm once and missed the bar. I tried again but failed. Gritting my teeth, I made another attempt far stronger than any other, but the alternating force moved my secure hand so the algae wiped my palms.

And both hands came loose.

I sucked in air as if it would save me, already feeling the spray of the water, the salt of the sea. The anger – the regret – and the fear lasted an age.

It was all blown away with the wind as a strong hand grabbed mine.

I gasped, worried my arm would snap at the force. I beamed at the relieved face that met me over the railing.

Derek Barnes.

The empty weightlessness had vanished when he held onto me. "I think that's enough hanging around tonight!" he called over the crushing waves. I forced a laugh, but it was not at the joke.

He clenched his jaw and lifted me up. My nerves reverberated at the image of him, and I gawked at how the aqua moonlight lined his face – the lines were so traceable.

When I was close enough I reached to push myself up, but Derek gripped my torso and hauled me over the railing. Once safe, he put his hands on my shoulders, eyes flitting across my body for any sign of injury. "Are you alright?" I checked him over; his lip was cut, and a red mark brushed his right cheekbone, but he was mostly unharmed. "Yes!" I exclaimed, adrenaline still needlessly running through me. "What about you? What happened to—?" "You were taking your time," he said. "I blinded him with gateau then threw a chair at his head."

I nodded, reaching the point where this behaviour had become normally. I wondered what average missions were like for him alone – did he often take out his targets using deserts, or was that just for special occasions?

I licked my lips, growing sick at the taste of iron in my mouth. As I took a breath, I coughed, the sound deep and sticky. Derek's eyes softened, his hands lowering to rest on my back. "Are you sure you're okay?" I wiped the corner of my mouth and cleared my throat. "I'm fine. But what do we do with her?" I nodded at the sandy-haired woman, who was still suspended above the water.

A shadow circled around his face, and my blood ran cold as his hands left my body. His white-knuckled grip on the bars made me stir, and he leaned over the railing with a baleful glare.

She gulped. "My—my men will come looking for me! Even if I die, they will come for you both." "Which men?" Derek retorted. "The two you brought are dead." Fear dilated in her hazel eyes as Derek raised his brows. "Not so confident now, are you?" "Go to hell!" she spat. Derek shrugged. "After you."

He slammed his shoe onto her fingers, making her squeal and let go as he turned around dismissively, letting her fall to her death. Her cries filled the air until they were cut off by an abrupt splash.

Only my heavy breathing closed the gap between us. The second I opened the door to our room, I was ready to drop down and pass out.

Derek sent me a subtle nod as an instruction to leave the balcony and I obeyed. It only took one step for me to cry out in pain as my skin pressed into a rogue shard of glass.

I winced, biting my lip as I lifted my foot to remove the shard, ignoring Derek's fixed stare. "Amber—" "I'm fine."

He sighed and stepped over the glass. Without prior warning, he put his arms and me and lifted me up, my dress billowing out from his arms. I frowned but secured my arms around his neck to avoid falling onto the balcony floor. "I can walk." "Your feet look painful. I'm not letting you walk anywhere." He sidestepped the glass and re-entered the landing, making his way towards the stairs. "I can handle it." He laughed. "Knight, you've proved to me that you can handle just about anything." His smile was warm as he looked at me, angling his head towards my face. I leaned into him, our foreheads resting against one another. "Just let me do something for you, okay?"

I smiled, and a brightness struck his own. He shifted his gaze to focus on the stairs, still beaming as I let out a length sigh and rested my head on his shoulder, feeling safe for the first time in years.

***

Derek settled me down as we approached the door to our room, asking once again how much pain I was in. I insisted the momentary rest had more than helped the healing process to begin and, despite my muscles feeling sore and the scattered wounds on my feet stinging, I was feeling much better.

I leaned against the wall as he patted down his blazer for the key, weighed down by a dull headache. Despite the pain, I smiled at him, hiding it by rubbing the blood from my lips. He fired a look in my direction at that, and hastily slammed his hands into his pockets, the acute panic from him making me bite down a laugh.

He finally found it with a relieved smile, the warmth of his breath reaching my lips. He faced the lock with forced focus, not looking at me until the door was open, the room within so dark I could not make out a single item of furniture from my craning position at the doorframe. "After you," he said, near-silent.

With a nod, led by a hovering hand at my lower back, I entered. I looked forward, eyes blank as Derek locked the door behind us, keeping us safe for the night. He brushed passed me and switched on the lamp to examine my face, tilting it with his knuckles from beneath my chin, letting out a sigh at the claw marks on my cheek. "It's just a scratch," I assured him. He swept his thumb gently over my chin, stroking the dip beneath my parted lips. "Are you sure you're okay?" "Please stop asking me that," I replied softly.

We were safe. I could have asked for nothing more.

And yet... with the way he looked at me, eyes ardent but mouth hesitant... I wanted more.

I glimpsed downwards as his stroking thumb halted. His hand glided across my jaw and chin, his fingers uncoiling to angle my lips towards him, kissing me softly.

I stepped closer to hold him towards me and his hands moved to the back of my neck, teasing the lower roots of my hair ever so delicately. When I opened my mouth to take all of him in, he groaned and forced me back into the wall with a gasp.

His hands descended down my spine, setting fire to every inch that followed as they drifted beneath the flimsy slit of my dress and clutched my thighs. I hooked my legs around him, fingers running through his hair as he lifted me up against the wall, consuming his redolent scent.

I knew what I wanted; I knew what hewanted. When the decision was made, I lowered my hands to his neck and pulled off his tie in one swift motion, only his strength and my burning thighs keeping me securely off the floor.

He held back by only an inch and read the flames in my eyes that reflected his own. "Are you sure?" he breathed. With a swift, essential nod, we leaned in for each other again, each holding a new, united sense of heated intent.

He carried me away and we fell into the soft sheets with our lips still locked. The moment my sensitive skin prickled against the satin, I reached for his shirt, cursing myself as I stumbled over the tiny buttons. Derek sighed cruelly, breaking the kiss to rip the shirt and toss it away with disregard, his amatory stare unyielding. I gazed at his torso longer than necessary, noting how the dim lantern highlighted the contours of his body in an orange-gold. I reached for him, his lips meeting mine again as he fiddled with the zip of my dress, sliding it down with ease as I brushed my brunette waves to one side.

With the dress pulled off, his mouth left mine to trail down my jaw, savouring each moment with every inch as if they were all significant in their own right. I hissed through my teeth at the sharp nip of my scar, and let out a frustrated sigh as Derek stopped, eyeing me up with worry. "It's fine. It'll heal," I assured him. He traced the line delicately with his forefinger and smiled, an amber light setting his features ablaze, shimmering in his eyes. "You're gorgeous. You know that, don't you?"

I grinned into the kiss, even more so when his hands drew lower and his lips painted a pathway down my neck. No-one had ever told me that – not one person. I was powerful with him, in control, and alive.He brought to life every fragment of me, inside and out, setting me free but keeping me safe, like I could be who I wanted.

Like I really was something.