Kitabı oku: «Mission: Marriage: Bulletproof Marriage»

Mission: Impassioned Find the traitor … lose your heart

Mission: Marriage

Three exciting, dangerous and passionate novels

from Karen Whiddon, Lyn Stone and

Kathleen Creighton

Mission: Marriage

Bulletproof Marriage

Karen Whiddon

Kiss or Kill

Lyn Stone

Lazlo’s Last Stand

Kathleen Creighton

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Bulletproof Marriage

Karen Whiddon

Dear Reader,

After writing The Princess’s Secret Scandal for the CAPTURING THE CROWN series, I knew there were stories yet untold. Most of the other authors felt the same way, so we got together and proposed another series, MISSION: IMPASSIONED.

Bulletproof Marriage is my contribution. Marriage is complicated and wonderful, dangerous and safe, passionate and serene. Because my own marriage is so awesome, I know that love truly can carry on despite bad times and troubles. When Sean McGregor told me his story and how much he loved his wife, I knew I’d found my story. I sympathised with both Sean and Natalie, and longed to help them find each other again.

I hope you enjoy sharing danger and love with these two superspies! I sure did.

Sincerely,

Karen Whiddon

About the Author

KAREN WHIDDON started weaving fanciful tales for her younger brothers at the age of eleven. Amid the Catskill Mountains of New York, then the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, she fuelled her imagination with the natural beauty of the rugged peaks and spun stories of love that captivated her family’s attention.

Karen now lives in north Texas, where she shares her life with her very own hero of a husband and three doting dogs. Also an entrepreneur, she divides her time between the business she started and writing the contemporary romantic suspense and paranormal romances that readers enjoy. You can e-mail Karen at KWhiddon1@aol.com or write to her at PO Box 820807, Fort Worth, TX 76182. Fans of her writing can also check out her website at www.KarenWhiddon.com.

For Daisy, Mitchell and Mac, my four-legged

writing companions and fur-faced children.

Chapter 1

If reinforcements didn’t show up soon, Natalie Major thought grimly, she might as well paint a target on her chest and leap into the open. The unknown assassin—or assassins—were that close. The decaying concrete warehouse she’d holed up in only had two ways out—and one of them had been blown to rubble.

She needed help. Corbett Lazlo, her father’s oldest friend and owner of one of the top private investigative agencies in the world, had promised to send someone. She’d asked for the best.

Now she wished she’d asked for the most prompt.

Gallows humor. She’d never been particularly good at it before, though she’d grown more proficient.

Her husband wouldn’t even recognize her now if he were still alive. Once, he’d been Lazlo’s top agent. She’d married a Lazlo Group spook, just like her own father had been. Retired now, and in a wheelchair, her father lived in relative seclusion. Her beloved husband, Sean, hadn’t been so lucky. He’d been killed two years ago this week. Lazlo’s group seemed to be the ruin of everyone she loved, so in honor of her dead husband and disabled father, and in defiance of the Lazlo legacy she could easily have embraced, she’d worked her way to the top of SIS, the British Secret Intelligence Service. There was no job too difficult, no task too dangerous for Sean McGregor’s widow.

Until now.

She scouted the area. Trapped inside the abandoned warehouse, she was fast running out of options. The concrete walls made a good shield against bullets, but she needed to see her enemies. Right now, she could only hear them. And it was hard to fight when you had no idea who the enemy might be. Or where they were hiding.

Plus, cement was cold and hard and reminded her too damn much of a tomb.

The shooters fired off another round of shots. AK-47s. Random bullets ricocheted crazily and dangerously off the cement walls and floors. She couldn’t even dodge them, having no idea where they’d go.

She’d found the abandoned warehouse two days ago. A concrete bunker in a run-down area of Glasgow had seemed relatively safe. Not wanting to endanger others by staying at a B and B or hotel, she’d used the concrete warehouse as her base, returning to sleep and regroup while attempting to gather information on whoever had sold out her team. Since Millaflora—a low-down, no-good mole operating as a double agent inside the SIS—had already been caught, she had no idea who she was looking for.

Officially, she was on administrative leave, supposedly holed up, incognito in an unknown luxury hotel on the French Riviera. No one in her office knew she’d come to Glasgow, not even her supervisor.

And though she’d tried to take extraordinary precautions similar to those she used when deep undercover, her enemy had found her.

Whoever “they” were.

She supposed the whys and the hows didn’t matter. Not now. All that mattered was that if help didn’t arrive soon, she was dead.

Her ammo nearly gone, no backup, and no alternative plan—pretty shoddy situation for an undercover agent who’d recently been promoted to team leader.

It had to have something to do with the code. Natalie was sure of it. She’d been so close to cracking it. She and her team.

Now they all were dead and she was on the run.

And she had only herself to rely on. In seven years of service, she’d never had a single casualty. Until now. Now she’d lost her entire team. They’d been eliminated, killed in a way that left no doubt she was next. All the codes they’d been working on had disappeared, at least as far as anyone knew. She’d told no one that she’d made her own private copy.

Not knowing who was on her side, she hadn’t dared to contact SIS. She’d called her father, knowing he’d contact Corbett, knowing Lazlo would help.

“Come on, reinforcements,” she muttered. Her father’d told her Corbett had promised to send help. The head of the Lazlo Group never went back on his word.

A movement across the alley caught her attention. Finally! Someone had arrived to help her out of this hellhole.

She took another look and blinked, wondering if the stress had finally claimed her mind.

Out of the mist and smoke, a dead man strode toward her, keeping close to the wall, staying in the shadows, but coming. For her.

Natalie began to shake.

Shots rang out. Crouching, the man began to run. More shots. So far, he hadn’t been hit. He’d always been lucky that way.

At least, until the day he’d died.

Dead. He was dead and buried.

Rocking back onto her heels, she rubbed her eyes and took another look.

She hadn’t been wrong. The man she’d loved more than any other, her soul mate, her husband, the man she’d mourned, the man she’d never thought to see again, kept moving toward her.

Frozen, she watched as he continued, his low crouch purposeful and unafraid. Or maybe he didn’t care. After all, a man couldn’t die twice, right?

Her heart drummed in her ears. Sean. Her husband, Sean. This couldn’t be real, couldn’t be happening.

She wasn’t the type to faint—not anymore. Too many hard lessons learned. Instead, she’d taught herself to push back, to fight.

But how did one battle a ghost?

From the smoke and the grave, against the periodic bursts of gunfire, he continued to come toward her. He moved exactly the way she remembered—purposeful and bold, dodging bullets as though he were untouchable. She’d often thought that very arrogance had been what had gotten him killed.

Killed.

Yet here he was, ducking under the concrete overhang into her shadowed hiding place, solid and real and alive.

When he reached her, he stopped, his dark gaze intense. She couldn’t move. He was still beautiful, even in the dust and the dirt and the danger. She caught her breath, unable to speak.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice husky, as though too long unused, a hint of wariness in his gaze.

“I …” She moved toward him, inspecting him, still unable to believe what the fates had just returned to her.

“Get down,” he snarled, yanking her behind the concrete wall with him as the shooters let loose with several rounds of shots.

“What the—” he cursed, letting her go. “They’ve got AK-47s. You must have royally pissed someone off. Why are they trying to kill you?”

She still couldn’t find her voice. Unable to help herself, she let her gaze roam hungrily over his muscular body—the way her hands used to.

“Either I’m dead, dying or you’re not dead,” she said, feeling like an idiot, still not sure what to think.

“No.” His dark gaze locked with hers, daring her wrath. “I’m not dead.”

“Sean.” Fierce joy rose in her. Joy and disbelief and … anger. Anger, fury, rage. Hard and hot, pushing away everything else. “I went to your funeral. You died in a car crash on your way to the airport.”

He dragged his hand through his hair. “It was set up,” he said, unsmiling. “I went into hiding. But your father called Corbett, who told me you were in trouble. I’ve come to help.”

To help. Not because he loved her or missed her, but because his boss had requested it. Of course. Anyone who’d pretend to die, who’d let his wife grieve and mourn …

Speechless, all she could do was shake her head. Then suddenly, tears streamed down her cheeks as she began to weep, crying in great big, gasping sobs.

Another round of shots rang out. They both ignored them.

“Don’t.” Reaching for her, his expression looked pained, and she remembered how he’d always hated it when she’d cried. He’d welcome a fight, maybe even a discussion, but he’d never been able to deal with a woman’s tears. Or, more specifically, hers.

Suddenly, she hated him. “Stay away from me.”

“But I—”

“No.” Still crying, she felt rage again knife through her, chasing away the pain. Blinding fury, the kind she’d had to draw upon again and again to get through her grief.

Then, she’d been angry with him for dying. For leaving her. Now, she was enraged to learn he’d lived.

She looked lovelier than he’d remembered, which shouldn’t be possible. Her face had haunted his dreams each and every night of the two years they’d been apart. He’d kept track of her from a distance, relying on Corbett Lazlo to keep him up to date.

Now, he stood before the woman he hadn’t seen in two long years, the woman he’d never stopped loving, and prepared to face her wrath. After all, he’d expected it, and God knows he deserved it.

Another round of gunshots shattered the concrete floor in front of them.

“This way.” Grabbing her, Sean dove deeper inside the building.

Because she had no choice, she went with him. “What are you doing? I’ve walked the perimeter—there is no other door. We’ll be trapped.”

“Yes there is. You must have missed it. I had the satellite check out this place before I got here. There’s another way out, though it’s on the other side of the shipping area. This warehouse has apparently been abandoned for a long time. Vandals have busted out the back loading doors.”

“How do you know the shooters won’t already be there?” Despite her question, she shook off his grip and pushed ahead of him. When she glanced over her shoulder to make sure he followed, her face was absolutely expressionless. Not the fury he’d expected, not even sorrow. Instead, she had the cold, calculating look of a seasoned undercover agent, one prepared to do what had to be done to make it out alive.

“I don’t. Where’s your backup?” he asked her.

“I don’t have any. I’m not supposed to be here.”

“What?”

Ignoring him, she kept moving.

Wary, he stayed close behind her. This was Natalie, and knowing how much his return from the grave must have shocked her he wasn’t sure what to expect.

More gunfire, closer this time. “They’re moving in,” he said. She didn’t respond.

He grabbed her arm. “Nat, stop.”

Her eyes narrowed and he braced himself for the storm.

Instead, face blank, she looked at him and shook her head, as though she found him wanting. “I would suggest,” she said, her voice deadly calm, “that you let go of me. If you don’t want to go with me, then turn around and go back to whatever rock you crawled out from under.”

Ah, now this was the Natalie he knew. “Let’s postpone this discussion for after we’ve gotten out of here alive, don’t you think?”

Immediately she nodded. “Of course. Forgive me. I wasn’t aware there was a code of conduct for how a wife is supposed to act when learning her beloved husband had faked his death and not only lied to her, but voluntarily spent the past two years away from her.”

He glared back. “There isn’t. But there is a code of conduct for staying alive. Move!”

“Right.” She lifted her chin and took off.

More gunshots. “What the hell are they doing, shooting randomly in the dark?” He cursed. “They’ll hit their own men with the ricocheting bullets. Stupid idiots.”

The blackness had become absolute. And he didn’t dare light a match. Hands out before him, he felt his way, concrete pillar by concrete pillar.

“I hope you’re right about this exit. If you’re wrong, we’re trapped here.”

“Satellite photos are pretty accurate. There should be another hallway here to the left.”

Bumping into something in the dark, she cursed. “I think I found it.”

“Take my hand.”

“What?”

“Team members.” Impatient, he held his arm out blindly. “Come on.”

A second later, her small hand slipped into his. They kept moving.

“Is it my imagination, or is it getting a bit lighter in here?”

“We must be getting close to the loading area. Keep going.”

More shots.

“Do those fools not realize bullets ricochet off concrete?” he said again.

“Apparently not,” Natalie answered, annoyance still evident in her voice.

“Why didn’t they move in before?”

She shook her head, making him realize he could see her. “I held them off. But you barely showed up in time—I was running out of ammo. Did you bring more?”

“You should always be prepared.”

She flipped him off. “That’s why you’re here. More ammo, another gun. The fact that you knew another way out is a bonus. Corbett did good, sending you.” Tossing her head, she gave him a narrow-eyed, go-to-hell look. “You do have more ammo, don’t you?”

He laughed, and saw her clench her teeth. A second later, he tossed her a couple of clips. Seething, she slammed one into her pistol. “Ready?”

He raised a brow. “For?”

“Moving out. Just in case the shooters have covered the back exit.”

“You plan on blasting your way out of here?”

“Yep.”

Once again she surprised him. The Natalie he’d known before would have wanted to stay hidden, hoping to pick them off one by one.

“Do you have any idea how many there are?” The cool, professional Sean was back. Astounded he might be, but he hadn’t survived this long in such a dangerous game by letting his personal feelings get in the way of his job.

She matched her tone to his. “There are at least two out front. One east, one west. Both armed with AK-47s.”

“Any idea who they are?”

“Does it matter? They want me dead. That’s all I need to know. Now, how much farther?”

They both heard the shouts and the sound of boots running on cement toward them.

“We’re over halfway there. Come on.” He took off. This time, rather than following, she kept pace with him. Side by side.

Another round of gunfire, closer. Chunks of concrete spewed from the wall to the left of them.

Close. Too close. They both knew it.

“Damn it.” Sean drew his weapon. “You go. I’ll hold them off.”

Ignoring him, she flicked off the safety and raised her gun. Leaning around the pillar, she aimed, waiting. An instant later, she squeezed off a shot.

Direct hit. The shooter’s body jerked, then nose-dived forward. “Got him. One down, a few more to go.”

He touched her arm. “They’re shooting blind. No way can they see us back here. Come on.” He took off.

She didn’t waste time arguing.

Left, then right, then right again. With each turn, the darkness lightened.

“Here we are.” Stopping, Sean pointed. “There’s the loading area. See how that one metal door moves in the breeze?”

“Listen. The shooting’s stopped. I wonder why?”

“Who cares?” He moved forward. “Let’s get out of here.”

She climbed onto the cement platform, staying close to the wall. Sean followed right behind her. When they reached the rusted metal door, she lifted one side and pointed toward a narrow alley between two tall brick buildings. “That looks like the only way out.”

“No. Too constricted.” Out of reflex, he grabbed her arm. “We’d be sitting ducks. There has to be another way.”

Again, she jerked away. “Don’t touch me.” Breathing hard, she glared at him, putting every ounce of loathing she could into her expression.

Grimly, he looked around. He lifted his hand to point and as he did, the remaining shooter fired off another round, narrowly missing him. “Damn it.”

“I don’t think we have a choice.” She jerked her head toward the opening. “Are you ready to make a run for it?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but a sound—metal striking concrete—grabbed his attention. For half a heartbeat, they both eyed the oblong metal object rolling across the floor toward them.

“Time-delay grenade!” he shouted, grabbing her and shoving her ahead of him. “Take cover!”

She needed no second urging. Sprinting for the nearest concrete divider, she dove behind the wall with him right on her heels.

The grenade exploded. Sean yanked Natalie into his chest, ducking his own head. Fire flashed and roared and the dilapidated building shook.

Dust and smoke and cement rained down on them.

Sean’s mouth moved, but she couldn’t hear for the ringing in her ears.

More gunfire. This, she could hear. The shooter—or shooters—were moving in, hoping the grenade had done the job.

Natalie looked at Sean. They didn’t need sound to know what the other was thinking.

“One, two, three … go.” Moving low and fast, they sprinted for the door. As they slipped through the unstable metal, bullets sliced into it where they’d been.

“Come on.” They took off running, guns at the ready.

“Something’s wrong.” Natalie didn’t like the way the pounding of their feet echoed off the alley walls.

“Too quiet.”

Then, into the silence, they heard another sound. The unmistakable click of the grenade launcher firing.

“Down,” Sean shouted, in the split second before the grenade hit to the left of them. It exploded on impact.

Natalie was thrown to the ground. Sean was lost somewhere in the smoke. Damn it, she thought as she struggled to stand up. It would be a crying shame for Sean to come back from the dead only to be killed on his first mission after. If anyone was going to kill him, it was going to be her.

At the exact instant she stood, squinting in the smoke and fire and dust, head pounding, ears ringing, looking for Sean, the concrete wall above her came tumbling down.

Chapter 2

“Natalie?” Sean couldn’t see. Couldn’t hear. Couldn’t breathe. He inhaled, struggling for air. Concrete dust filled his lungs, making him double over in a racking cough. He should be grateful—at least this proved he was still alive.

What about Natalie?

He called her again, his voice barely rising above a croak.

“Sean?”

Alive! Muttering a quick prayer to the powers that be, Sean attempted to push himself up. Though he tried to harness the energy of the relief that had flooded through him at the sound of her voice, he couldn’t move. Blinded, disoriented and confused, he wasn’t sure why.

“Sean?”

“Over here.”

A volley of gunshots erupted. Those damned AK-47s, blasting a path toward them. Evidently, their pursuers had garnered reinforcements and were on their way to finish off what the grenades hadn’t.

He cursed again, struggling to lift himself off the concrete.

“Sean, come on. We don’t have much time.” Natalie appeared out of the swirling cloud of dust, voice frantic. “Get up. We need to go. Now.”

“I know.” Struggling to push himself up, Sean frowned. He still couldn’t move. Rubbing his eyes, he tried once more. No luck.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t—” Heart pumping overtime, he cursed when he saw the problem. The concrete wall had come down on his left foot, pinning him beneath it.

Funny how wounds don’t hurt until you see them. True to form, the second he noticed, his foot began to throb.

“I’m trapped.”

“Oh, God.” Natalie’s eyes widened, but she didn’t waste time on small talk. “If I lift, can you try to wiggle out?”

He clenched his teeth. “No way you can lift this. Even if you could, my foot’s probably broken. I couldn’t go far.”

She shook her head. “No is not an option. I want you to try.”

Team-leader words. He pondered this for half a second before giving her a cursory nod. “Go for it. If you can manage to lift the pillar, I can certainly manage to move.”

Straining, she grabbed the concrete and gave it her best shot.

Nothing. Not even a minute bit of movement.

“Damn it all to hell.”

Natalie continued to strain, pushing at the concrete. “Stop,” he ordered. “You need to go. Save yourself.”

“I’m not leaving you.” Her fierceness surprised him. Where was the timid mouse he remembered?

“You have to. If you stay, they’ll kill us both.”

“If I go, they’ll kill you. That’s not acceptable.”

He put all his frustration into the look he gave her. “Listen to me—”

“No!” She threw herself against the concrete again. This time, he could swear the damn thing moved, even if only a fraction of an inch.

“Nat—”

“You’ve got to help me!” Eyes bright, she shoved again. Another infinitesimal movement.

Not enough.

“I can’t.”

“Do you want to die for real?” She shoved her face close to his, nose to nose. “Is that it?”

“No.” He ground out the word, surprised to realize he spoke the truth. Even the dark secret he’d been carrying since before he’d met her wasn’t enough to make him want to give up his life. Especially not since they were together again.

“Then help me!”

Pushing himself to a sitting position, he tried. Bracing his arms against the cement, he used every bit of his strength.

“Bingo.”

The gunfire came again, louder. Closer.

“One more time,” she urged. “You can do it.”

“Rah, rah, rah,” he muttered. Still, he was willing to try.

One more shove did the trick. Together, both their efforts succeeded in moving the concrete off his foot.

“Can you stand?”

“I don’t know.”

She held out her hand. “You have to. Come on.”

Grimacing, he ignored her outstretched fingers and tried to get up on his own.

Though already swollen, it seemed his foot would support him. For now.

Standing, he tried to flash a triumphant smile but ruined the effect the moment he attempted to put weight on his injured foot. Staggering, he nearly fell.

With a loud sigh, she grabbed him. “We don’t have time for this.” Arm around his waist, she half pushed, half lifted, and helped him back to his feet.

“Come on.” Heading toward what had been the back of the alley, she helped him over chunks of cement, twisted metal and smoldering hot spots.

Dust choked him—them—but still she pushed on. He found himself admiring her determination.

“The explosion blew a hole in the backs of both neighboring buildings. The whole area could tumble down like a stack of cards. I’m hoping they don’t know it yet.”

Jaw clenched, Sean nodded. Sweat ran down his face and his foot hurt so badly he was half-afraid he might pass out.

Couldn’t do that. Had to keep Natalie safe.

Or was it the other way around?

His field of vision narrowed, then went gray. Blinking furiously, he tried to keep his focus, fought to keep putting his uninjured foot in front of the other. He knew his wife’s slender shoulders couldn’t support his full weight.

The effort had him panting.

“Easy now.” Nothing but cool satisfaction rang in her voice as she helped him over a large piece of concrete. She didn’t, he noted sourly, even sound winded.

Away from the alley, the smoke-clouded air felt a fraction better. Cleaner. He tried to take a deep gulp and choked.

“Hurry,” she whispered, trying to pull him forward. “We’ve got to move faster or they’ll catch us.”

He was doing the best he could, but she didn’t need to know the extent of his weakness. Pushing himself, he struggled to lengthen his shaky stride and to keep from muttering curses each time he came down on his injured foot.

Natalie led him down a twisted alley, turning left then right and left again—so many different directions that he lost track of them. Finally, they arrived at the back of a pipe shop housed in an ancient stone building.

“In here. Auggie’s one of my contacts. He’s also a friend. He’ll help us.”

Her friend? Since when did contacts become friends? Allowing connections to become personal could be dangerous. That was one of the first things Corbett had taught Sean when he’d begun training many years ago. Natalie should know that—she’d had intensive training when she went to work with SIS.

Sean had actually opened his mouth to caution her when he realized he had no right. She didn’t even consider him her husband anymore. After all, as far as she knew, he’d been dead for the last two years. By choice.

The back door was unlocked. Moving carefully, Natalie let herself in.

Sweating profusely, Sean leaned against the wall, drawing ragged breaths, trying to stay conscious.

“Are you coming?” she asked. If he detected a trace of impatience in her voice, it vanished when he raised his head and she got a good look at his face.

He must look even worse than he felt.

“God, Sean. You need a doctor.” Slipping her arm around him once again, she helped him up the steps and into the back of the shop. Once he was inside, she closed and locked the door behind her.

“There. We should be safe for a bit.”

A moment later, a bearded giant of a man came around the corner. He lifted one bushy brow when he saw Sean.

“Auggie!” Smiling, Natalie hugged him, her arm barely able to circle his neck. “This is Sean. He, uh, does the same line of work I do.”

For some reason, the fact she didn’t name him as her husband rankled.

“I’m her husband,” he said, holding out his hand.

As Auggie’s huge paw engulfed Sean’s, Natalie crossed her arms. “He’s not my husband,” she told the giant man. Then, letting her gaze drift over to Sean, she gave him a hard look. “Not anymore, you’re not. You’re dead.”

“Come on, Nat. I’m not dead.” His protest sounded weak, he knew, but it was difficult to talk and still try to hold on to consciousness.

“You are to me,” she said, turning her back and walking away.

“Sorry, boyo.” Auggie clapped him on the back. Hard.

Sean winced. Looking about for a place to sit, he hobbled over to a large wooden crate. His vision grayed. Again, he clenched his teeth and rode out the pain and nausea.

With fumbling fingers, he managed to extract his cell phone from his pocket.

“No.” Auggie snatched it out of Sean’s hand. “Not unless Natalie says it’s okay.”

Dumbfounded, Sean could only stare.

“I heard my name.” Natalie reentered the room. “What’s up?”

“He was trying to call out.” Tossing her the cell phone, Auggie gave Sean another baleful glare.

“Who are you calling, Sean?”

He could barely answer. “Corbett.”

“Why?”

“I need to find a doctor.”

“I know a good one.” Natalie and Auggie exchanged a look. “Why bother Corbett? We don’t work for him.”

Vision wavering, Sean swallowed. At this point, if Auggie had announced he was a brain surgeon, Sean wouldn’t have cared. “But I do—er, did. Let me call him.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Auggie spoke to Natalie as if Sean wasn’t there.

“He hurt his foot. I don’t think it’s broken.”

“Give. Me. The. Phone.” Sean gritted out the words.

Without hesitation, Natalie tossed it to him. “Knock yourself out.”

He punched in the speed-dial code. A second later, Corbett answered.

“I need the name of a doctor.”

“What? Have you found Natalie?”

Sean answered in the affirmative, filling Corbett in on the details. He ended with his foot injury.

“Sean, ask Natalie. She’ll probably have the best name. SIS has their own people and she’s been working in that area the last two years.”

While he’d been sequestered up in the Highlands, playing dead.

“Point taken.” He sounded churlish, he knew. “At least give me a name.”

“Very well.” Corbett sighed. “Contact Dr. Pachla.”

“Thanks.” Sean ended the call and dropped the phone back into his pocket.

A half smile on her full lips, Natalie watched him. “Let me guess. He told you Dr. Pachla.”

Reluctantly, Sean nodded. Even that slight movement brought him pain. “Can you contact him? Now?”

She looked at Auggie.

Smiling, Auggie nodded. “He’s already on his way.”

Sean leaned his head back against the wall. He must have passed out, because the next thing he knew, he heard the sound of bells tinkling.

Natalie and the giant were standing close together, talking in voices too low for Sean to hear.

“Someone’s here,” Sean muttered. “Maybe the doctor.”

“Or a customer. Just one moment,” Auggie said, disappearing into the front of the shop.

When he returned a moment later, a tall, elegantly handsome blond man followed him. Something about him looked familiar, though Sean knew he hadn’t met the man before.

When the doctor saw Natalie, his aristocratic features lit up. “Nat!”

“Dennie!” Natalie ran to him and hugged him. An intimate body hug with full frontal contact, Sean noticed, his irritation mounting.

For his part, Dennie didn’t seem in any hurry to push her away.

“Ahem.” Sean cleared his throat. “Over here.”

Immediately, Natalie stepped away from the doctor. “Dennie,” she said. “This is Sean. Can you take a look at his foot?”

“Of course.” Kneeling beside Sean, Dennie held out his hand. “Dennie Pachla.”

Sean shook it with as much heartiness as he could muster. “Sean McGregor.”

Both of Dennie’s blond eyebrows rose. “The Sean McGregor?”

Sean gave a weary nod.

Obviously surprised, Dennie glanced at Natalie. “But that would mean—”

“We were married.” Natalie sounded grim. “Once.”

“I was going to say that would mean you’re not dead. But I guess ‘we were married’ works.” Dennie continued. “You’re not still?”

“Yes,” Sean said.

“No,” Natalie replied at the same time.

“We were never divorced.” He glared at her.

“I’d think your death would have dissolved the marriage, don’t you?” She glared back.

“Whoa.” Dennie held up his hands. “Time out. I’ll just be taking a look at this foot, and then I’ll be on my way.”

Auggie went up to Natalie and put his arm around her shoulders. “Why dinna you tell me he was back?”

She shrugged. “I just found out. You know I would have called you.”

Sean winced. Though he’d always secretly harbored the fear their marriage wouldn’t have survived his secret, watching her prove she’d made it without him hurt more than it should.

“We’ll need an X-ray,” Dennie said after a brief exam.

“No time,” Sean responded.

A quick look at Sean’s face showed Dennie he meant business.

“I’m thinking your fifth metatarsal might be broken. Depending on how bad the break is, surgery is sometimes necessary.”

“Not an option.”

“A cast?” Dennie offered.

Sean shook his head no.

“Very well. I’ll run back to my surgery and fetch a walking cast. It’s a heavy boot,” Dennie said as Sean started to protest. “You have to leave it on for six to eight weeks.”

“Perfect.” Sean held out his hand. “Thanks.”

After a brief shake, Dennie rose and headed toward the door. Auggie followed. Only Natalie remained.

“What are you going to do?” she asked quietly. “After he puts that boot on your foot?”

“I came to protect you,” he drawled. “So I’m thinking I’ll accompany you back to London.”

“London?” Though she never raised her voice, her anger simmered in her eyes. “I’m not going to London.”

“That’s the plan.”

“According to whom?”

“Corbett. No doubt he’s been talking to your father.”

Briefly she closed her eyes. When she opened them, he saw determination and resignation in their depths. “I’m not going to London.”

He sighed. “Fine. Then tell me, what are your plans?”

“You never answered.” She crossed her arms and stared at him. Daring him to contradict her. “You first.”

“I said I was going to protect you,” Sean growled. “I’m going after him.”

“Him?”

Though she shouldn’t have had to ask, in a perverse way he was glad she had. He wanted to say the name of his enemy out loud. “The Hungarian.”

“The crime lord?” She looked wary. “Why? Don’t tell me Corbett’s already given you a mission.”

Sean had to remind himself that he had deliberately protected her from the truth about the Hungarian and the evil he could do. She believed his entire family had died in the same fiery crash that had supposedly killed him. In reality, they’d been slaughtered by the Hungarian’s henchmen.

The man known as the Hungarian had completely destroyed both of their lives. The crime lord’s vendetta was the reason Sean had pretended to die, so that Natalie’s life might be spared.

And she knew none of this.

“No,” he said slowly. “No mission. I’m not working for Corbett at the moment.”

“Then why?”

“Because the Hungarian is after you.”

He could see the stubborn light in her eyes. “The code I was working on before all this started was believed to be his, but what does that have to do with you?”

“That code may be part of the reason your team is dead, but he’s after you because you’re mine.”

When she started to argue, he shushed her with a finger to her lips, oddly gratified when she didn’t immediately jerk her head away.

“Natalie, I need to explain—”

“No.” Violently shaking her head, she pushed herself away from him. “I’m not interested in your explanations. The past is over with. What’s done is done. Save your story for someone who cares.”

He ignored the stab of pain her sharp words brought, knowing that, at least in her mind, he deserved them. “What I have to tell you has a bearing on the situation now.”

“I don’t care. I’ll be fine.”

Exhaling, he dropped the subject, knowing he’d have to try again later. She had to know the facts so she’d know what kind of monster they were up against. “So will I.”

“Have you ever worn one of those walking casts? You can’t move the way you’re used to.”

“Concern? From Super-spy?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t like to be mocked.”

“I’m not mocking you. Isn’t that what you are now?”

“Look, you’re out of practice, injured and you probably have no idea what’s been going on in the underworld since you’ve been gone.”

“Your point?”

“The Hungarian has taken out several of SIS’s best agents. He may be responsible for what happened to my team. If you go after him alone, he’ll kill you.”

So much for faith in his abilities. If anyone needed protecting, it was she. Sean could take care of himself.

“I’m already dead, remember?” He gave her his best cold look. “If he kills me, I guarantee I’ll take him down with me. Anyway, I’m not your problem anymore, now am I?”

Waiting with bated breath for her answer, Sean knew he longed for her to say the impossible. Extremely foolish, considering she’d been absolutely correct. Unless he killed the Hungarian, he didn’t expect to come back except in a body bag.

Natalie opened her mouth to speak, then shook her head. “No.”

His stomach clenched.

“You’re absolutely right,” she said, turning her back to him. “What you do isn’t my concern. But I think you should know we’re bound to cross paths sooner or later.”

“What do you mean?”

One swift glance over her shoulder, the directness of her gaze taking his breath away. “If the Hungarian is trying to kill me, then I refuse to sit around and wait for him to come after me. I’m going to him.”

Stunned, he could only stare. She’d just outlined his worst nightmare. “Why?”

She lifted her chin. “Among other things, I’m an SIS agent. My mission is clear.”

Before he could comment, she spun on her heel and walked out of the room. A moment later, he could hear her laughter mingling with Auggie’s.

Her life no longer included him. He should be used to the pain by now, but he wasn’t. If anything, seeing her again, taking the brunt of her anger and knowing he deserved it had made him hurt even worse.

How the Hungarian would laugh if he knew. Despite Sean’s sacrifices, the Hungarian had won a different sort of victory. Ironically, he’d succeeded in robbing Sean of the one person he’d loved the most. Natalie.

A few minutes later, Auggie returned alone.

Sean glanced up, then down at his hands.

“I’m worried about her,” Auggie said, dropping onto the couch next to Sean.

“So am I.”

“Are you?” The skepticism in the giant’s voice had Sean raising his head. “You sure have a funny way of showing it.”

Saying nothing, Sean gave the other man a look that plainly said back off.

Auggie ignored him. “If you want to go with her, all you have to do is make like you’re weak, so she thinks you need her to protect you.”

“I don’t need anyone to protect me,” Sean snarled. “Go away.”

The other man didn’t budge. “Swallow your pride, man. Just because you’re a legend in the intelligence community doesn’t mean you can’t eat a little crow to protect the woman you love.”

Wincing, Sean lifted his head. “Am I so obvious?”

Auggie chuckled. “Maybe not to her, but the way you feel is plain to see. Every time you look at her, it’s like you found gold at the end of a rainbow. I can read you like a book.”

“Wonderful,” Sean groaned. “Her knowing how I feel is the last thing I need.”

“Why? You’re her husband.”

“I was. Now, she hates me.”

“Can you blame her?”

Silence was the only answer Sean needed to give.

“Look, if you faked your own death, it must have been for a good reason. I would think you can pretend to be an invalid to protect Natalie. What could it hurt, other than your pride?”

Reluctantly, Sean nodded. “Is she any good?”

Auggie’s bushy brows flew. “I wouldn’t know. You were the one married to her.”

He felt his face color. “No, I didn’t mean that. I meant is she any good as an agent?”

Chuckling at Sean’s discomfort, Auggie shrugged. “She must be. She just got promoted to team leader, right before the tragedy with her team. I imagine she’s finding that hard to live with.”

As would anyone. But team leader? Sean couldn’t wrap his mind around that. Though Natalie had changed, she’d always been more of a follower than a leader.

With a sigh, Auggie heaved his bulk to his feet. “Think about it, all right?”

“I will.” Clumsily Sean stood, too, holding out his hand. After they shook, he met the giant’s eyes. “Why are you doing this? You don’t even know me.”

“No, but I do know Natalie. I care about her. Nat needs all the help she can get. You know what the Hungarian is capable of.”

Sean gave the other man a sharp look. “But does Natalie?”

“She lost her entire team.”

Exhaling, Sean realized once again he’d need to swallow his pride and pretend to be something he was not.

But to save Natalie, he’d do anything. Even tell her the truth—that more of their marriage had been a lie than she knew.

Chapter 3

She’d forgotten his stubbornness. Sean was the only other person she knew who came close to being as obstinate as she.

In the past, they’d struck sparks off each other. Infuriating and exhilarating.

No longer.

Now, being around him made her insides knot.

The bright sunshine and cloudless autumn sky felt at odds with the turmoil inside her. If the weather were a reflection of her mood, there’d be booming cracks of thunder, lightning sparking among swirling clouds and rain pouring down in sideways sheets.

She refused to let the cheerful day pull her from her black mood.

Red wig and sunglasses firmly in place, Natalie power-walked down the boulevard. Past the bakery, where the mouthwatering scent of freshly made bread made her pause, and past the coffee shop, where strong coffee with a dollop of cream waited.

The October air felt brisk, which she welcomed. Cool air and exercise. Good for the body and the mind. Little by little, she felt her tension ease. She rolled her shoulders, stood in the warm sun and breathed deeply.

When she’d regained her calm detachment, she headed back, managing to smile and nod at other shoppers.

Entering Auggie’s store from the front, she greeted Auggie as though she was only a customer and didn’t know him. He responded in kind, asking her if there was anything he could help her find.

This oft-used code told her they were not alone. She couldn’t go into the back yet to say her goodbyes to Sean.

Goodbyes? She huffed, pretending to look at an assortment of candy. He didn’t deserve a goodbye, not really, not after what he’d done.

But this was Sean and she’d loved him for so long. She couldn’t help but feel as though the heavens had given her an added blessing, allowing her to hear his voice one more time.

If she were honest, something inside her, some small, foolish part, wanted to see his beautiful face one last time. To drown in the warmth of his eyes, touch his skin, breathe his scent. She craved this in much the same way she’d craved sex right after they’d married.

She’d given up sex. Certainly, she should be able to give up Sean. After all, she’d done so once already, two years ago. She’d gone on with her life and, while she couldn’t unequivocally say she was happy, she’d survived without him.

Sean. The love of her life. The one man she’d trusted. To learn he’d betrayed her hurt almost as much as his death.

Yet she couldn’t make herself walk away. Not without knowing why he’d done what he did. She should demand answers; hell, she deserved answers.

But did she really want to know? Could she really handle the truth, whatever that might be?

As she strolled nonchalantly around the small shop, she realized two things. One, though she’d never been a coward, she didn’t yet want to know the why of his defection. Someday, maybe. But not just yet.

And two, she couldn’t leave him. Not now, not until he was healed. And if some tiny, foolish part of her whispered never, she ignored it.

Finally, the other customer left. Auggie came to her and touched her arm. “Come on.”

Sean sat slumped over on the cot, his head down. He looked up when they entered, then looked away.

Natalie crossed the room silently and dropped down beside him. She motioned Auggie to leave, which he did.

Once the other man was gone, Sean raised his head, but still wouldn’t look at her. “You’re going,” he said. His voice sounded hollow.

Her throat ached. Wrapping her arms around herself, Natalie came to a decision. “No. I’m not leaving. I need your help,” she said softly. He met her gaze then, his own full of frustration and stubbornness and physical pain.

Swallowing, he dipped his chin. “I think maybe it’s the other way around.” He dragged a hand through his unruly hair. “I’m the one who needs help.” The soft gravel in his voice told her how much of an effort it cost him to say the words.

Despite herself, her heart melted. For sanity’s sake, she kept her expression stern. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“Help you go after the Hungarian? If so, I’m in. I want the bastard.” Now she had his attention. “I do think he’s responsible for what happened to my team. There are rumors that he’s running a major arms-smuggling operation. The code we were working on could be about that.”

He gave her a startled look. “Do you have any proof?”

“Not yet. But we figured out a rudimentary character-exchange system. Signal for phrases, that sort of thing. There was one section no one could crack. I’d planned to take a shot at it. Then my entire team was cut down in cold blood.”

“How?”

“Murdered at their desks.”

“At SIS? With full security on duty?”

“We worked a lot of nights on rotation. Someone disarmed the alarm and took out two of the guards. Everyone in the office that night died.”

“Except you?”

“I wasn’t there.”

“And the code?”

After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded. “All traces gone. Except for the copy I’d taken with me.”

“Do you still have it?”

“Yes.”

He swore. “I want that son of a—” Taking a deep breath, he met her gaze. “I want him, you want him and Corbett has offered to help. Don’t you think we have a better chance of taking him down if we work together than if we work separately?”

“Maybe.” She didn’t dare let her guarded hope show. “Are you proposing we work as a team? If so, then like I said a moment ago, I’m in.”

He looked down at his leg. “Are you sure?” he asked, quietly. “Before we do this, we both need to be one-hundred-percent certain.”

Even after two years apart, she realized he knew her too well, knew that she was offering this as a way to protect him.

“Please,” she added, because she didn’t know what else to say.

As he opened his mouth to speak, his cell phone rang.

Watching while he answered, again she was struck by his sheer masculine beauty. Her heart hurt.

How she’d missed him.

And, she thought bitterly, how she hated him for what he’d put her through.

“Here.” He handed her the phone. “It’s Corbett. He wants to talk with you.”

Gingerly, she took the phone and said hello.

“Your father’s worried about you,” Corbett said, by way of greeting. “Why haven’t you contacted him?”

Guilt made her wince. This was the first time in her entire career she’d had to ask her father, a former Lazlo operative, for help.

“You sent Sean,” she volleyed back. “You knew he wasn’t dead.” She couldn’t believe it. Corbett had known Sean was alive. As a family friend, Corbett had attended the funeral, offered his condolences, watched her suffer when with two simple words—he’s alive—he could have alleviated her agony.

But he’d never said them.

Then, when she’d been in the worst trouble of her career, she’d called her father and Corbett had sent Sean back to her. As if she wanted him back.

A horrible thought struck her. Had her father known, too? Had he withheld the truth, even as he comforted his grieving daughter?

The depths of such a betrayal would be impossible to fathom. Such a thing would rank right up there with her mother abandoning her when Natalie was six.

“I sent the best, per Phillip’s instructions.” Corbett’s clipped voice told her the subject wasn’t open for discussion. “Sean got you out, didn’t he?”

Clenching her teeth to keep from saying things she might regret later, she took a deep breath. “Is that all you wanted?”

Silence. Stalemate.

“I need your help,” Corbett finally said. “I’ve got a code for you to crack.” Since the Lazlo Group had their own team of code specialists, this request meant the situation was tense.

As if he sensed this, Sean made a restless movement, dragging his hand through his thick, dark hair.

Damn, she wanted him.

Tearing her gaze away from Sean, Natalie swallowed.

“Hello?” Corbett’s tone grew even grimmer. “Are you there?”

“Yes. Sorry.” Taking a deep breath, Natalie forced herself to loosen her death grip on the phone.

“Will you take a look at the code?”

She sighed. “I’ll try. But, I’ve got another code to figure out as well.”

“Another code?”

“Yes. My team and I were working on it when …” She choked, unable to finish the sentence. Clearing her throat, she continued. “I’m sure my father told you.”

“He did, but not that you still have any of it.”

“I do.”

“Excellent.” He sounded impressed. “I have a feeling you’ll see similarities with the one I’m sending.”

That got her attention. “Seriously? Where’d you get it and where was it going?”

“One of my operatives intercepted it from a dead man. We think the missive was headed to the Hungarian.”

What remained unspoken resonated over the line. This code might be the key to unlocking the secret of the Hungarian’s identity and location. She and her team had been so close. Too close. Instead of them bringing their enemy down, he’d attacked and eliminated them.

“How quickly can you get it to me?”

“I’m working on that as we speak. Once you have it, how quickly can you crack it?”

She eyed Sean, who’d crossed his arms and appeared to be trying to follow the one-sided conversation. “I don’t even have a computer.”

“I’ll get you a laptop.”

“Fantastic. But make it ultralight. The last thing I need to be dragging around is a seven-pound computer.”

“Of course. The Lazlo Group always uses the latest technology.” Corbett sounded distant. “I didn’t plan on sending you a dinosaur.”

“Good.” Distracted now, her fingers itched to get started. “It will be interesting to see if your code and the one I have are the same.”

“We have a short time frame.”

“You’re telling me. It’s difficult enough trying to stay alive and keep Sean from getting killed. Trying to crack a code takes intense concentration. I don’t have that luxury now.”

“Sean can help you with that. You can rely on him to get you the space and quiet you need.”

Rely on him? She almost laughed at the irony. “I’ll figure out something.”

There was a muffled sound, then her father’s voice came on the line. “Are you all right, baby girl?”

“Papa?” She rubbed her now-aching temple. “Corbett didn’t tell me you were in Paris.” Paris was the home base of the Lazlo Group.

His deep chuckle didn’t mask the concern in his voice. “I was worried.”

She had to ask, had to know the truth. “Did you know Sean wasn’t—”

“Not now.” The stern tone of her father’s voice was tempered by love. “We’ll talk about this later, once you and Sean have worked everything out.”

She bit her lip. “We won’t—”

“Natalie, you have no choice. Not now. Maybe once all this is over, but not until then.”

He was right, damn it. She sucked in her breath. “All right, I’ll do my best.”

“That’s my girl.” Her father chuckled again, making her wish she could hug him. “Now, here’s Corbett.”

“How soon can you be ready to do a pickup?”

“Of the code?”

“Of course.” Corbett didn’t even pause, and she realized he’d known immediately that she wouldn’t be able to resist such a challenge. Though he had his own code specialist, Natalie had gained a reputation as the best. For good reason. She used to brag there wasn’t a code she couldn’t crack.

Super-spy, Sean had called her. When it came to breaking tough codes, he hadn’t been too far off the mark.

“Where and how?”

“You’ll need to meet one of my agents.” Corbett named a location, an old abbey on the other side of Glasgow, maybe an hour away at the most. “Can you be there at 1600 hours?”

Auggie came back into the room, looking at Natalie for permission. She nodded and, returning her gaze to Sean, glanced at her watch. “That gives us two and a half hours. We have to rent a car and … yes. We’ll meet your man at 1600 hours.”

With that, she handed the phone back to Sean. She had nothing further to say to the man she’d once trusted. She’d decipher his code, because more than anything she wanted the Hungarian taken down. After that, they were through. As through as she was with her once-dead husband.

Understanding without her telling him anything, Auggie moved closer and squeezed her shoulder with his big hand. Grateful, she reached up and covered his hand with hers. Over the past year, they’d become good friends. Auggie, like Dr. Pachla, had hinted he was willing to become more, though she’d been careful not to encourage any closer relationship.

Sean had been the love of her life. Her marriage to him had ruined her for any other man.

As she closed his cell phone, Sean met her gaze, his own sable eyes clear. Though she knew he’d heard her tell Corbett about the stolen CD, he didn’t mention it. “We’ll need a car.”

Auggie removed his hand from Natalie’s shoulder. “There’s a car-rental agency a few miles from here. I can drive you,” Auggie offered.

“Excellent.” Sean nodded. “I have a new identity.” He gave Natalie another long look. “Corbett created it for me after I ‘died.’”

She kept her face expressionless. “What name?”

“Roark McKee.”

Another pang stabbed her heart. Roark had been the name they’d planned to call their son, whenever she conceived.

“Can you drive?” Natalie regarded his walking cast with skepticism.

“It’s my other foot, luv.” The familiar endearment seemed to slip casually from his lips. She stiffened, unwilling to comment, to let him know how much he had hurt her.

“Fine. You rent the car. No one is looking for you.”

When they reached the car-rental agency, Natalie waited in the car with Auggie while Sean went in.

“Take it easy, lass.” Auggie spoke in a soft voice, his burr becoming more pronounced. “You still love him, don’t you?”

Miserable, Natalie stared at the spot where Sean had disappeared inside the doors. “I don’t know how I feel anymore. Aug, I should just hate him for what he put me through.”

“But you can’t?”

Her halfhearted shrug was the best she could do. Her throat was too clogged with emotion to allow her to speak.

“You’re a damn fine operative, Natalie Major. You’ve moved on with your life. Don’t let this get you down.”

“You talk as if his returning from the dead is a small thing.”

“I’d say that depends on your perspective.”

She crossed her arms. “There’s no excuse for what he did.”

Auggie shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. You won’t know for sure until you talk to him and find out why.”

“I’d rather forget him.” Even as she said the words, she knew she was lying. Already, even when separated from Sean by a matter of minutes, she craved him.

A horn honked. “There he is.” Auggie pointed. “He’s gotten a nice Mini, now hasn’t he?”

Though she’d seen the tiny cars out and about, Natalie had never wanted to ride in one. They were too small, for one thing, and Natalie was a tall woman. She couldn’t imagine her six-foot-three inch husband crammed into one.

This would make the term close quarters no exaggeration.

Both Auggie and she exited his car at the same time, walking over to the Mini. Auggie circled the blue vehicle, a gleam of admiration in his eyes.

Sean rolled down the driver’s-side window. “Best I could do,” he said, before she could even comment. “We didn’t have reservations and they’re a bit low on cars.”

Auggie chuckled as he walked up beside her. “One thing about it, no one will suspect you’re a spy in this tin can.”

Natalie glared at him.

“You’d better get in,” Sean said, not smiling. “Before someone recognizes you.”

He was right, damn it. She gave Auggie a quick hug, then yanked open the passenger door and wedged herself into the seat.

“See, it’s not so bad.” Reassuring? Sean? She wondered what else had changed about him in the two years he’d been dead.

He handed her a well-creased map, then started to pull away from the curb. “I’ve marked the location of the abbey where we’re to meet Corbett’s man.”

Not sure how she felt about his automatic assumption that he would be leader, she opened her mouth to dispute him.

The back window shattered.

“What the—?”

“Get down,” Sean yanked the wheel to the right, heading into a narrow alley between buildings. “Someone’s shooting at us.”

She was already down, head on her knees, or as best as she could in the tiny car. “They must have identified me.”

“How?”

“I don’t know.”

He took another sharp turn and they shot out into the street. Horns blared and a lorry narrowly missed smashing into their side.

“We’re going to have to ditch this car.”

“Not now. We’ve got to meet our contact in—” she glanced at her watch “—forty-five minutes.”

“I don’t care. If they keep shooting, we’ll have no choice.”

“Yes, we will.” Natalie sat up straight, smoothing down her hair. “You’re not in charge here, you know.”

The narrow-eyed look he shot her would have lit a cigarette. “Don’t start this. Not now.”

After a moment of surprise, Natalie threw back her head and laughed. “We already sound like an old married couple, bickering.”

“We are an old married couple.” His expression softened. “Last month was our sixth anniversary.”

“Would have been,” she corrected, her chest aching. “If you hadn’t died.”

The tightening of his jaw was his only response.

As they entered downtown Glasgow, traffic increased.

They were sitting ducks at a complete stop, especially if a shooter had a high-powered rifle.

But no gunshots shattered any windows, and they reached the other side of town without incident.

“Too weird,” Natalie said.

“I agree. There’s no reason why they’d simply give up. Unless …”

“They knew where we’re going.”

“Impossible.”

Natalie shook her head. “Is it? You and I both know better.”

“So we’ll be extra careful.” The tight set of his mouth told her he wasn’t happy with the situation. “Get in, meet Corbett’s man, grab the code, and get out.”

When they arrived at the abbey, the parking lot was curiously devoid of the normal crowd of tourists’ vehicles. Only one other car had been parked in one of the marked spaces.

“They’re closed on Thursday,” Sean told her. He chose a spot on the other side of the lot, as far from the lone car as he could get.

Natalie understood his reasoning. One never knew where a car bomb might be planted.

Silent, they got out of the car.

The weather had changed and a light mist still fell, shrouding the air in a blanket of damp. The slate-colored sky exactly matched the weathered stone of the ancient building. As abbeys went, this particular one wasn’t much to look at. Part of the exterior had crumbled, and it was more of a ruin now than an actual building.

But the sense of age …

Natalie wasn’t a mystical-minded person, not in the slightest. But the energy of this place, the eerie invocation of timeless power, made her hesitate. She felt as though she were actually intruding, as though her very practical feet should not tread on this hallowed ground.

If Sean sensed the same, he gave no sign.

Keeping close to the crumbling wall, they moved toward the old cemetery on the hill. They were to meet their contact near an ancient crypt hidden behind several immense oaks.

A tingle on her left hand had her glancing down. The wedding ring Sean had given her—the woven band of silver she’d never taken off or switched to her right hand as widows were supposed to do—had grown hot. The ring was old; it had once belonged to Sean’s grandmother. Sean had always called the Celtic design “fairy metal.” He’d teased Natalie, telling her his grandmother claimed to have found the ring in an enchanted circle, left for her by her fey lover.

The way it responded to this place, Natalie could actually believe the story.

“You never took it off.” Sean’s quiet voice, raspy with pain, broke into her musings.

“No.” For a sharp instant, she was glad the sight of her wedding ring had hurt him. He had no idea how much she’d suffered, believing him dead. Or how much she continued to suffer, now that she knew the truth.

But then, he apparently had never realized how much she’d loved him.

He’d stopped moving forward. Though he still hugged the wall, he watched her, waiting for her to tell him more.

Instead of answering, she brushed past him, taking the lead.

The open space between the end of the building and the beginning of the cemetery would be where they were most exposed. Crouching low, Natalie ran. After a muffled curse, Sean followed, awkward in his heavy cast.

Several large trees by the wrought-iron gate provided a shelter of sorts. Natalie slipped behind one and Sean took another. Though there was no breeze, the gate was open, as if their contact had left it so when he’d passed there before them.

“Ready?” Low-voiced, Sean stood poised to move.

With a jerky nod, Natalie answered. She’d let him take the lead again—for now. At least this way she could cover his back if need be.

The old stone crypt was in the farthest corner of the ancient graveyard. They kept as close as they could to the larger monuments and statues, using them as granite shields.

When they were halfway across the cemetery, the crypt exploded.

Chapter 4

Natalie jumped on Sean, pushing him to the ground.

“Stay down,” she growled.

Though he narrowed his eyes, he did as she asked. In the past, he’d led and she’d always followed. No more. Still, with his muscular body pinned beneath her, she was suddenly hyperconscious of their positions.

Thoughts like that in times like this would get them both killed.

“Come on.” She yanked his arm. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

“Get off me so I can move.” His voice sounded strangled. Whether from arousal or from annoyance that she’d taken the lead, she couldn’t tell.

She scooted down the length of him, purely for revenge, then got to her knees. “We’d better stay low. Come on.”

Making sure he was following her, she crawled to the nearest section of iron fence. “Corbett’s man is dead.”

“We’ll mourn him later.” He paused, catching his breath. “I’m thinking he took the code with him.”

“Lost in the explosion, no doubt. But they’ll check to make sure.” She glanced over her shoulder. “We’re going to make a run for the car.”

“Right.” His tone was dry.

Too late, she remembered his walking cast. “Can you do it with that thing on?”

“Yes.” Again, her assuming the leadership position seemed to bother him. But, unlike the Sean she’d once known, this Sean clenched his jaw and said nothing else.

She didn’t have time to reflect on what that meant.

“You go first.”

He shot her a go-to-hell look. “Why?”

“In case you can’t get over the fence on your own. I can help you.”

Without another word he got to his feet and hobbled to the next statue. At this rate, they’d be there all day.

Somehow, Sean managed to climb over the fence unassisted and without getting shot. Natalie could only hope their luck would hold.

In the meantime, she needed to take steps to make sure she wasn’t recognized again.

When they reached the car, she went to the passenger side. She’d let him drive. She’d learned a long time ago how to pick her battles.

Natalie kept a sharp lookout for any hint they might be being followed, but not a single car made the same turns.

“Are they playing with us?” she wondered out loud.

“Could be. They have to know their rigged explosion was a failure. We’re not dead. Maybe they want us alive.”

“For what reason?”

“The code. Could it be possible that damn code is more important than any of us realizes?” Intent on the road, his expression gave away none of his thoughts.

“Surely they know their own code.” She heaved a sigh, wishing she could still rest her head on his shoulder as she’d done in the old days.

“Unless it’s not theirs.”

Natalie stared. “What do you mean?”

“Think about it. Why would the Hungarian be so eager to get some old, coded message away from you? Whatever information it contained, he could simply change.”

“But if it belonged to someone else—”

“Like one of his enemies.”

“Who would be foolish enough to go up against someone so powerful?”

Sean smiled wryly. “The Hungarian has a lot of enemies. Maybe a bunch of them got together to plan something.”

“Wouldn’t we know? I mean, both SIS and the Lazlo Group have undercover operatives in place. We would have heard something by now.”

But they both knew that wasn’t necessarily true. Huge secrets had been kept before, men killed, wars fought, with no one in the intelligence community the wiser until it was all over.

This time, when their gazes met, for the space of a heartbeat, she couldn’t look away.

Taking a deep breath, she bit back questions she didn’t want answers to and instead pointed out a sign on the corner ahead, advertising a discount drugstore.

“I need to stop at that store.”

Sean shot her a look that plainly said he thought she’d lost it. “I know you like to shop, but your timing sucks.”

She nearly smiled. Nearly. “Trust me, this is a necessity. But it doesn’t have to be that one,” she said as they drove past. “Any chemist’s shop will be fine.”

A quick stop at the first druggist on the way out of town, and she had what she needed. Climbing back into the midget-size car, she buckled up and dropped her small bag on the floor. “I’m good.”

The stark expression on Sean’s face made her catch her breath. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“I just got off the phone with Corbett. He already knew he’d lost a man.”

Natalie bowed her head. In the undercover community, the death of a fellow operative was treated the same way it was by firefighters and policemen when one of their own died—with respect and sorrow.

“Did you convey to him my condolences?”

“Yes. He was on his way to talk to the family.”

She winced. “That’s one duty I wouldn’t want.”

“No one would. But as head of the agency, Corbett takes his responsibilities seriously.”

As if she didn’t know. Her own father couldn’t speak highly enough of the man. When her father had lost his legs in an explosion while working undercover, Corbett had helped him find the best surgeons, paid for a wheelchair and paid to renovate his home, even knowing he’d have to retire. The two men still talked regularly. Their stories about the life of a secret agent were why she’d gotten into the business in the first place, though in her bid for some sort of independence, she’d chosen to work for the government rather than the Lazlo Group.

“I’m assuming Corbett had his own copy of the code.”

“Of course. He’s working on another way to get it to us, along with a computer.”

She nodded. “Perfect.”

“Yeah. But still, we need some help. What about your resources? Can you access any of them?”

She stared. “Resources? You mean like SIS?”

“Exactly.”

“No.” She hoped the single word would shut him down. “I’m on leave. Administrative, due to the trauma of losing my entire team. As far as they know, I’m recuperating on the French Riviera.”

She waited for his questions, but apparently he had none. The sky had grown darker and it wouldn’t be long before the inky night became complete. Suddenly exhausted, she yawned.

Noticing that in the dim light from the dashboard, Sean smiled. Again, she felt the beauty of that smile like a punch in the stomach. “Stop it,” she said crossly. “It’s been a long day.”

“We’ll find a place to stop for the night.”

“Great.”

Parking in the back drive of the first B and B they came to, Sean went inside and secured them a room. When he emerged, he looked grim.

“I rented one room.”

“Why?”

“Security reasons.”

Too tired to argue, Natalie simply nodded.

Opening her door for her, he helped her out. Natalie allowed this, telling herself his touch didn’t feel good, not at all. The shiver that ran down her spine was due to the chilly air, nothing more.

“Wait.” She dug into her knapsack and retrieved the bandana Auggie had given her. This she placed over her head, tying it under her chin. “Camouflage,” she said. “Best I can do at the moment.”

Sean raised a brow but didn’t comment.

They walked into the brightly lit sitting room, neither of them speaking, staring straight ahead. The tension between them seemed palpable—almost unbearable, like the electricity in the air right before a thunderstorm. Natalie had to grit her teeth to keep herself pleasantly smiling.

Their hostess, a plump, bespectacled woman with a shock of bright orange hair, led them to the rear of the house. “You two even have your own bath,” she exclaimed. “All of the rooms upstairs have to share the big one at the end of the hall.”

Once they reached the room, she handed them a folded paper listing breakfast options and left them alone.

Natalie eyed the double bed with dismay. “I’m guessing she didn’t have a room with a king? Or even a queen-size bed?”

“I’m sorry,” Sean said, sounding anything but. “I can sleep in the chair if you’d like.”

Eyeing his walking cast, Natalie tried not to think about how badly she wanted to touch him, to run her hands over his once-beloved skin while breathing in his never-forgotten scent, to feel him move inside her again. “I’ll sleep in the chair. Since you’re driving, you’ll need your rest more than I.”

He narrowed his eyes. Once, he’d been able to read her thoughts, her desires. Or at least it had seemed that way to her. Once. No longer.

They’d been so happy. Or, she amended, she had. Obviously, Sean had felt differently. She’d never understand how he could do such a thing to the woman he supposedly loved.

“I’ll sleep in the chair,” she repeated, in case he wanted to argue. “But first, I need your help with this.” Opening the paper bag from the drugstore, she removed her purchases. “I’m going to cut and color my hair.”

For a moment, he froze, reminding her how he loved her hair, short or long. After lovemaking he’d always run his fingers through it.

Ruthlessly, she shut down the memories. “I know it’s short, but I’ve got to make it shorter. I can’t be recognized again. It’s compromising our mission.”

A trained spy, Sean understood. She could tell from the set of his chin that he didn’t like it, but he knew the reasons why changing her appearance was necessary.

The way he studied her sent shivers down her spine. Finally, he nodded. “Unfortunately, you’re right. What do I need to do?”

“Let me wet my head in the lavatory sink.” As soon as she’d accomplished that, she combed through her already short locks and returned to the bedroom. “Now I’m ready.”

“I’m not.” He didn’t sound as if he were joking.

Ignoring him, she dug out her newly purchased scissors, holding them out, along with the comb. “Will you do the honors? I could do the sides, but I’m afraid I’d make a hopeless mess of the back.”

Accepting the scissors, he moved the desk chair over by the bed. “Sit here in front of me.”

One deep breath for strength, and she did as he asked. The mattress springs creaked as he took a seat on the bed directly behind her. “How short?”

Did his voice tremble?

“Chin length.” Her hair touched her collarbone now, which meant he’d be removing two to three inches.

As he combed through her hair, she sighed and closed her eyes. When they’d first met, he’d loved her long hair, insisting on brushing it every night. Sometimes those sessions had turned heated, and they’d made fierce and passionate love. Her entire body warmed just thinking of it.

She could tell from the catch in Sean’s breathing that he hadn’t forgotten either.

The first time he skimmed the comb through her hair, a chill skittered along her spine. How she wanted to turn her head and press a kiss into the palm of his hand, the way she used to. Instead she held herself perfectly still, trying to relax.

Impossible.

His breath tickled her ear, her throat. Any moment now … She braced herself for his whisper-soft kiss, so familiar she ached for it, so alien she dreaded it.

When it never came, she reminded herself to breathe. Too much time and deception had passed between them. They each had a job to do, for their country, their agencies and their own personal satisfaction.

Giving in to old memories, old lusts, would accomplish nothing.

“It’s done.” His voice sounded husky. When he ruffled her newly shorn locks, she couldn’t suppress a shiver.

To keep from doing something foolish, she jumped to her feet and went to the mirror over the desk.

She looked … different. The choppy haircut brought out the hollows of her high cheekbones, but it was more than that. Life had returned to her face. Her eyes were no longer a muddy brown, but the amber color they’d once been, the color Sean had always teased her about by saying they glowed with passion.

Passion. No matter how she might try to hide this, even from herself, passion burned in her and her body knew. Each moment she spent with Sean, hearing his voice, longing to feel his touch, marked her.

Natalie was no longer Natalie Major, the efficient Super-spy, the woman made of ice. Despite her best intentions, she resembled Natalie McGregor, the woman hopelessly in love with her mate.

From behind her, Sean made a strangled sound. In the mirror, she saw him standing on the other side of the bed. His dark eyes glowed, full of such heat she nearly gasped. Their gazes locked and held.

Slowly, she turned, her pulse beating erratically.

When he came to her, gathering her in his arms, the scent of him, the feel of his muscular body against her, was almost unbearably painful.

Still, she hungered.

His touch as intimate as the old days, he trailed his hands over her skin and caressed the small of her back.

Ah … this. Arching against him, she lifted her face for his kiss, starving. He met her halfway, crushing her mouth beneath his. His lips devoured hers, demanding, hard and punishing, making her whimper a weak protest at first. But as he deepened the kiss, she welcomed his mouth as though two years had been erased.

Finally, her world was … full.

Stupid. With a hiss, she jerked away. Though she immediately felt bereft, she hid it with a scowl. “Don’t do that.”

The lazy look he gave her had amusement mingled with the desire. “You’re mine,” he stated, with all the confidence of a lion surveying his pride.

“Not anymore.”

“Always.” His voice dared her to disagree.

Though she could have argued, Natalie chose not to dispute his words. He’d always been able to tell when she was lying.

Instead, she grabbed his head and pulled his mouth down for another kiss. Impatient now, anger blazing into desire and need, grief becoming longing and the shame of his betrayal subjugated into want, she used her tongue the way he’d always found unbearably arousing, stroking the inside of his mouth, suckling his tongue. Reckless, abandoned, she tore at his clothing, craving him naked, hard and deep inside her.

His breathing came harsh, unsteady.

“Natalie?”

“Don’t talk,” she growled. “Not now.”

Grabbing her hands to hold them still, he held her away. The question she saw in his eyes felt like a dash of ice water down her back.

What had she almost done?

“I—” Hand to mouth, she backed away, as far as the small room would allow. Still, her body throbbed, wanting him.

“Shhh,” he told her, not coming after her. Was that grief she saw flash across his rugged face, or merely thwarted desire? No matter.

He’d saved her. She owed him that. She’d nearly made another huge mistake to add to her already huge list of them.

Even now, trying to clear her head, one look at the front of him, at his blatant arousal, and she nearly said to hell with it and went to him.

Closing her eyes, she drew one ragged breath, then another. How well she remembered the fit of him, tightly sheathed inside her. Their lovemaking had been explosive, intense and fulfilling, something she’d known no other man could measure up to.

“I’m sorry,” she told him, absurdly on the verge of tears.

“I understand,” he said, though she knew he didn’t. Aching, she wanted to weep.

“I’m …” She couldn’t find the words, though she knew she should be asking questions. Ask, hell, anyone else would demand an explanation. As if anything he could say would explain his betrayal.

When her mother had left, Natalie was six, but she well remembered her questions, and the way her father had had no answers. Finally, he’d told her she was better off not knowing.

Now she understood what he’d meant. Sometimes knowing the truth could hurt more than whatever the mind could imagine. She’d been an adolescent when she’d finally figured out her mother hadn’t wanted her, didn’t love her, and had left of her own free will. Up until that point, Natalie had convinced herself the woman had been abducted, forcibly dragged away from the daughter she adored and the husband she loved.

No longer a child, nor a teen with easily bruised emotions, Natalie knew she should demand answers. Should, but wouldn’t. She didn’t really want to know.

Instead, she brushed past Sean, grabbed the box of hair coloring off the table and went into the toilet, closing and locking the door behind her. She needed to walk, needed it the way a smoker craves a cigarette. A breath of fresh air and a brisk, two- or three-mile walk would clear her head and help her regain her shredded composure.

The crack of gunfire woke him.

Sean jerked up, years of training enabling him to snap instantly awake. Since he was still fully clothed, including his damned uncomfortable cast, he shoved himself to his feet and did a quick survey of the room.

Natalie was missing.

Moving as fast as the boot would allow, he grabbed his gun and yanked open the door, then moved down the hall to the front door. He opened it and cautiously stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind him.

Another round of gunfire had him dropping to the ground.

Where the hell was Natalie? Combined with the streetlights, the full moon provided ample light, but he couldn’t see her anywhere. Maybe she’d taken cover. Maybe she wasn’t there. So where the hell was she?

He had to assume she was safe so he could concentrate on taking out the shooter.

Keeping close to the brick building, he moved in the direction of the gunshots. He heard sirens, which meant someone had called the police. This could be good—or bad. It might stop the shooter, but there was no way he or Natalie could talk to local law enforcement.

The shooting stopped—Sean could only guess the gunman had heard the sirens, too, and was calculating how long he had before he needed to escape.

More confident now, Sean moved closer. He’d fitted his Glock with a silencer, which would do the job nicely if he had to take out an enemy. Though he’d rather capture the guy and question him. With the police on their way, that might not be possible.

Right now what mattered was keeping Natalie safe.

Rounding the corner, Sean stopped. A long, open stretch lay between his building and the next. No way was he going out there blind, making himself a perfect target.

The wail of the sirens grew louder.

A shadow moved.

Sean raised his gun.

Natalie jumped up and began running toward him.

His heart stopped.

Then, knowing he had no choice, he jumped out into the open, both to cover her and, he hoped, distract the shooter.

When she reached him, she knocked him back around the side of the building. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Shhh.” Listening for more shots, he heard only the rapidly approaching sirens. “He’s gone. We’ve got to get back to our room.”

Though her gaze shot daggers, she didn’t argue. Together, they ran, keeping close to the wall.

Another shadow.

“Get down,” he shouted, just before the shooter again opened fire.

She dropped like a rock. Sean felt a searing heat right above his cast. “Damn it,” he cursed.

Rat-ta-tat-tat. And again. The sirens were closer still. Again the shooting stopped.

“What’s wrong?” Natalie asked, her eyes and gun trained in the direction of the gunman.

“I’m hit.”

“Where?”

“The leg.”

Natalie was beside him. “Cover me.” Then she was tearing her shirt to make a tourniquet on his leg. A rapidly spreading crimson stain showed the wound right above his walking cast, as he’d suspected.

“You’re determined to lose that leg, aren’t you?” she muttered. “Come on. We’ve got to get out of here.”

“Can’t.” Perspiration ran from his forehead into his eyes.

She muttered a string of curse words strong enough to make a sailor blush.

“What the hell were you doing out here anyway?” he asked.

“I needed a walk,” she growled, her expression daring him to say anything.

“A walk.” He stared, wondering if he’d ever really known her. The Natalie he’d known and loved wouldn’t have left him to go for a walk.

“We’ve got to go. Now.” She grabbed his arm.

“No.” He jerked away. “I’ll do it on my own. You’re not strong enough.”

“Been there, done that. I got you out from under a ton of concrete, didn’t I?”

“Blind luck.”

Another round of gunfire. More smoke. He swore.

Who was this psycho? They didn’t know and had no time to find out. Again he cursed his clumsiness.

“Blind luck, my ass. Try blind skill.” This time, when she grabbed him, he didn’t resist. Half tugging, half shoving, she got him moved to the limited shelter provided by a Dumpster trash bin. His eyes drifted closed. Shaking his head, he tried to keep them open. “Let’s go.”

“Stay conscious. Sean, you’ve got to stay with me.”

“Why?”

The question appeared to blindside her. “Because,” she told him fiercely. “This isn’t the way you want to go out.”

“True. But it’s taking all I have to stay conscious. So tell me, Super-spy. Now what?”

“Usually I have backup or radios or one of a hundred tricks a well-equipped spy has at her disposal.” She snorted. “I’m guessing there’s no use looking toward the sky for a James Bond-style helicopter to magically appear and rescue us, right?”

The fact that she could joke in such a tense situation made him attempt a smile. “Let’s move.”

They made it to the next building without incident, huddling under the small portico over a back door, protected a bit by metal trash cans.

“Listen,” Sean said. They both heard the sharp click as the shooter reloaded. Any second now, he’d squeeze off another volley of shots.

Heart in his throat, Sean tensed. He’d been away from this game far too long.

“Is he following us?” Natalie whispered.

“You broke protocol,” Sean suddenly told her, fiercely. “I thought you were a professional.”

“I am. I—”

“Professionals don’t leave without telling their partner. You could have gotten us both killed.”

“Stop, Sean.” She glared at him. “I screwed up, true. I’m sorry. But this shooter was obviously heading for our B and B. I surprised him out in the open, before he was ready. He could have cut us down in our sleep. So part of this worked out for the good.”

Attempting a nod, he sucked in his breath instead. He didn’t know how much farther he could go. His strength ebbed out of him with every breath.

“How—” He couldn’t finish.

“How did he find us? I don’t know. Maybe we need to do a sweep for bugs.”

Another series of shots. Several rounds cut a wide swath through the metal trash bins.

“Too close. Run,” he gasped. “Go. Save yourself.”

“No.” She prodded him forward.

Assess. The. Situation. She wouldn’t leave him. Nor he her, he knew. Never. His life wouldn’t be worth living if he lost her again. Result. He had to save himself, and, in doing so, save her.

The sirens were nearly upon them. Somehow, he had to get them to safety. No way could they attempt to explain to local authorities what had happened here.

“Come on.” He made his voice harsh. Strong. Commanding. “Let me lean on you.”

Without hesitation, she moved her shoulder under his arm. Taking a deep breath, he lurched forward.