Page 22 of What Doesn't Kill You…

"I don't know if there's anything you can do to fix this," Violet said. "You broke trust with the team."

"Give the guy a break," Rodrigo said with a sigh. "He isn't an operative, he's a journalist. He was just doing his job and got carried away. It's happened to all of us. Even you, Violet."

Although that was true, Violet was having a hard time letting go of her anger. People disappointed her regularly and she'd seen the worst that humanity had to offer, but somehow, she'd expected more from Max. And for the life of her, she didn't know why.

"You're right," she said at last. "Mistakes happen. Bad decisions are made. We all get a little desperate when it comes to justice."

Max relaxed some, but he still looked like he was beating himself up.

Good.

Rodrigo pushed back his chair and got to his feet. "We can't do anymore tonight, and it's been a helluva long day. Get some sleep and we'll regroup again in the morning. Until we find out if our covers are stable enough to fool Damien, the best thing you two can do is act like you don't give a damn about him and are just here to get married. The more in love you seem, the more convincing our story will be. You might want to work on that." He jerked his chin at Katrina in the universal male signal to get going. She gave Violet and Max a sympathetic smile but didn't say anything.

Violet followed them to the door to lock it behind them. Before she closed it, Rodrigo leaned in to speak privately. "Keep an eye on him tonight. I don't want him doing something stupid because he's desperate."

"You don't think he'll try to storm the castle and get to Damien himself?"

"Dunno," he said. "But emotions are running high and, as he pointed out, he doesn't have anything to lose. I'm not sure he's thinking straight."

"Great," Violet grumbled. "I get to babysit the rash and desperate reporter. This is the last time I go undercover."

Rodrigo's lips quirked at the corners. "Don't be too hard on him, remember he's the love of your life."

"Go away," Violet said before shutting the door in his face.

CHAPTER EIGHT

"I'm an idiot, Vi," Max told her when she'd finished securing the front door.

Seeing as that was true, she saw no need to correct him.

"I thought I had this whole thing figured out," he continued. "I've been planning it for months. We come to the island, I get photos of Damien with his partner, or better yet, documents proving they're in business together, then I go home and blow his operation wide open. But I was only fooling myself. I wanted more than proof. I wanted to be here, rubbing his face in it while I ruined him."

Violet noticed his careful planning hadn't included how to get access to Damien's estate so he could get his hands on the smoking gun he needed for his story. Nor did it include how he was going to publish his exposé when he'd finished it. She suspected Max had glossed over a lot in preparing for this op, hoping to get by on luck and tenacity.

Amateur.

"Are you listening to me?" he said as he came to a stop in front of her.

It took a second for his words to register. "Nope."

"Violet," he said with exasperation. "I'm pouring out my heart to you here. The least you could do is listen."

"Why?"

She moved past him to collect the pajamas she'd bought for the trip. They were made of black silk, in the hopes the material would keep her cool. She'd also figured they'd blend with the night, if she had to make a run for it. Plus, they reminded her of the Gi she wore for karate.

"Because it's polite?" he didn't sound convinced.

"You're going over and over the same stuff because you feel bad about it. Let it go. Move on. Focus on what we need to do tomorrow."

"Just like that?" He threw up his hands. "You might be able to move on without much self-examination, but I process my experience with words."

"Then go write it all down." She headed for the bathroom. "I'm getting ready for bed. Do. Not. Come. In. Here."

It was killing her that the bathroom didn't have a door. If she didn't know Damien owned the place, she'd have written a strongly worded complaint to management. Not every couple were comfortable using the bathroom in front of each other. Even the ones who weren't faking their relationship.

She heard a loud huff from the other room, then some banging about as Max further recriminated himself while getting ready for bed. The dude was not Zen.