Karen Whiddon - Mission - Marriage

“As have you.” The other man’s voice was serious and quiet. “Get a grip. I want the man responsible just as much as you do.”

Corbett sighed. “Someone is trying to undermine the Lazlo Group, Sean. I’ve got all kinds of operations going wrong and operatives going dead. Between the mole in the SIS and the mole at Lazlo everything is being disrupted. Maybe it’s the work of the Hungarian, maybe it’s not. But we won’t know that until we find him, and stop him.”

“Why?” Sean had been wanting to ask this question ever since he’d first come to work for the Lazlo Group. “What did you do to the Hungarian to make him hate you so much?”

“Natalie asked me the same thing.”

“Did you answer her?”

“No.”

“Are you going to answer me?”

“I doubt it. That’s a long story and things are too crazy here to go into it now. Remember, I’ve lost people too.” A hint of anger colored Corbett’s cultured voice.

Sean apologized. “I’m sorry. There’s a lot of tension between Natalie and me. This is hell for both of us. I don’t know why you thought we could work together.”

“She needed help and asked for the best. You’re the best.”

“Once, maybe. Not now.”

Corbett ignored him. “Plus I’ve gotten tired of you pining away for her up there in that godforsaken cottage you call home.”

Sean knew better than to argue. What Corbett said was the indisputable truth. “True, I missed her. But I didn’t realize she’d hate me when she saw me again.”

“Does she, Sean? There’s a fine line between love and hate.”

“Spare me the platitudes. I’ve seen how she is when she loves. Trust me, this is hate.”

“She’s hurting.”

Like they both weren’t? “Defending her?”

With a sigh, Corbett conceded the point. “You know Nat’s like a daughter to me.” Which was why Corbett had asked Sean to help protect her to begin with.

About to respond, Sean winced when the smoke alarm went off. The high-pitched wailing made hearing anything else impossible.

“I’ve got to go.” Sean disconnected the call. He didn’t smell smoke, but that didn’t mean a hell of a lot. With the constant attacks on them—and their enemies’ disconcerting way of tracking them down—he wouldn’t be surprised to learn the building was on fire.

The bathroom door opened. With no makeup on, Natalie looked impossibly young.

“What’s going on?” she yelled. “Where’s the fire?”

He could tell she’d changed hastily since her top was inside out. He grabbed the laptop then her arm and led the way to the door. “I don’t know, but we’d better get out.”

She balked. “What if it’s a trap?”

“What if it’s not?”

Outside, the air was bracingly chilly. The wind coming out of the north felt like ice. They kept close to the building, looking for smoke.

Other people poured from the building and stood around in clusters, some looking confused, others angry or bemused. All of them looked cold.

Fire engines pulled up in front of the inn.

“There’s no smoke,” someone said.

“I don’t see anything.” Sean squinted into the early-afternoon glare. The bright sunlight seemed at odds with the bitter cold. “No smoke. No fire.”

“False alarm.” One of the bellmen came outside and shouted. “Once the fire department gives the okay, everyone can return to their rooms. It should be just a few minutes.”

“Good.” Wrapping her arms around herself, Natalie shivered. “Damn. I wish I’d grabbed my coat.”

He pulled her into his arms. “Come here.” When she hesitated, he shook his head. “No funny business, Nat. Shared body heat is better. You’ll be warmer this way.”

She relaxed against him, but only slightly. “Have you checked out the parking lot?”

“We’re on the north side of the building. All the cars are parked on the south. Whoever pulled the fire alarm wanted us out of the building, but why?”

“The code!” The bellman indicated they could return to their rooms and she ran for the entrance. “Maybe they think I left it in the room.”

He limped after her, struggling to keep up. “Did you?”

“Of course not,” she scoffed. “It’s with me. I never let it out of my sight. And Corbett’s info is on the laptop.”

“How would they know you have either of them?”

“That’s what I’d like to know.” Shooting him an exasperated look, she yanked open the side door and quickly entered the registration area.

“Nat, wait for me. We’re a team, remember? For now, you’re supposed to work with me, to trust me.” The instant he spoke he knew he’d made a major mistake.

“Been there, done that. No thanks.” She stopped a moment and looked at him, her face unreadable, her mouth set in a grim line that was totally unlike the Natalie he knew and loved.

“Nat, wait …”

Ignoring him, she kept going.

Since he had no choice, he followed, grabbing her arm. “You can’t just walk away from me if we’re going to work together …”

“Work?” She spun to face him and he was startled to see tears in her caramel eyes. “This has nothing to do with work.”

Sean took a deep breath. “Look, Nat, I know you’ll never forgive me for what I did two years ago. I can explain my reasons until I’m blue in the face, and you won’t understand.”

“I swear if you say it’s time to put the past behind us and move forward, I’m going to puke all over you.”

Since that was exactly what he’d been planning to say, he said nothing. Instead, he kept his mouth shut and stared at her.

She stared back, the coldness of her expression at war with the pain in her eyes.

“You’ve gone on with your life, have you?” he finally asked.

“As best I could.”

“You’ve found someone else then?”

For the space of one heartbeat, two, she said nothing. Finally, she made an odd little sound and shook her head. “You don’t know how badly I’d like to lie and tell you yes, I’ve found someone else.”

“Like Dennie Pachla, the doctor?” he suggested, hating himself for asking but wanting, needing to know.

“He’s a friend.” Her voice was tired. “Like Auggie. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but there’s been no one else.”

Some devil urged him on. “Why not?” he pushed. “Two years is plenty of time for a griefstricken widow to move on with her life.”

She looked down, twisting her hands together. When she finally raised her head, the anguished look on her face made him feel as if he’d twisted the knife.

“Do you know what it’s like to love someone so much that every beat of your heart echoes theirs?” Her voice broke, but she didn’t cry.

Before he could answer, she continued.

“Do you have any idea, any idea at all, what it’s like to love someone that much and then have them ripped out of your arms?”

“Yes,” he said quietly. “I do.”

“I don’t think so.” She held up her hand when he would have argued. “Because honestly, Sean, if you had, you would have known I nearly followed you to the grave.”

Shocked, stunned, he shook his head. “You mean you …? Corbett never told me.”

“Corbett doesn’t know. Would it have made a difference, Sean? Would you have shown up at my funeral?”

“How can you ask such a thing?” Now, when he’d thought he had nothing left unbroken, the last bit of his heart shattered. “I can’t believe you tried to—”

She shrugged. “It wasn’t intentional, Sean. I was hurting and my doctor had prescribed pills. I suppose I knew I shouldn’t mix antidepressants and alcohol, but I only intended to have one drink.” She took a deep breath. “Next thing I knew, I woke up in a hospital.”