Lyn Stone - Mission - Marriage - Bulletproof Marriage

“Your turn,” she told him, toweling her hair. “All that warmth feels wonderful.”

He nodded. When he entered the lavatory, he left the door ajar. As soon as she heard the shower start up, she gently tugged it closed. She hated that she had to force herself not to glance inside, knowing that the sight of Sean’s naked, water-slicked body would be more than she could resist.

While Sean was in the shower, she called Auggie. He answered on the first ring, sounding unsurprised to hear from her. “I just got off the phone with Corbett,” he told her.

“He arranged a meeting for Sean and I with an informant who turned out be working for the other side,” she said to him, relaying the man’s supposed bomb and his demand for the code. “I don’t understand it, Aug. If they were going to go that far, why didn’t they just take me hostage?”

“Or take you out, entirely.”

“Exactly. All they would have needed was one man with a high-powered rifle.”

“Have you told Corbett?”

“Not yet. Sean will probably call him when he gets out of the shower.”

“Corbett’s worried.” Auggie coughed. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told him. Lass, you’re in grave danger.”

She laughed, she couldn’t help it. “No lie. Tell me something I don’t know, Aug. That’s part of the job. You know that.”

“But this is different,” he insisted. “It’s personal. You need to get out.”

“I can’t. They have my father. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t back down now.”

The silence on the other end of the phone stretched on so long she wondered if he’d hung up. “Are you still there?”

“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “I need to talk to you, then. Privately.”

“So talk.”

“Not on the phone. Not about this.”

It wasn’t like Auggie to be mysterious and secretive. “The line is secure.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. We need to talk in person,” he insisted. “Our old meeting place.”

Auggie had helped her keep her sanity after she’d lost Sean. They’d met weekly in an obscure little beer garden frequented mostly by students. As her sorrow grew unmanageable and SIS refused to let her return to work, Auggie had been the recipient of numerous late-night phone calls. He’d also been the shoulder she’d cried on during red-eyed coffee-shop meetings at the crack of dawn.

Literally, Auggie had become her best friend. She trusted him with her life. They’d continued their meetings, less frequently as time went on, but their beer garden had continued to be their favorite meeting place.

Until she’d quit drinking. Meeting in a beer garden wasn’t conducive to staying sober.

If he said they had to meet in person, then they had to meet in person. But the beer garden?

“Auggie, you know I don’t drink anymore.”

“You drink hot cider, right?”

Breathing a sigh of relief, she nodded. Then, realizing he couldn’t see her, she said yes.

“They serve that. No one knows about this place but us—no one. So we can’t be followed or overheard. Please, meet me there. This is important.”

“When?”

“Tonight. And come alone.”

“What time?”

“Normal time.”

He was being careful. Normal time for them had been ten o’clock at night, which might work to her advantage. If she was lucky, Sean would fall asleep early. If not, ditching Sean before then would be damn near impossible.

“How about an hour later?” she asked, to be on the safe side. “I’m not sure I can make it before then.”

After he agreed, she disconnected the call. Whatever Auggie had to tell her must be huge.

That night, after a big meal, Sean reclined in the overstuffed chair and turned on the television. “I don’t want to talk strategy or even think about anything pertaining to the mission tonight,” he warned her. “I need to relax if I’m to be on my game tomorrow.”

Since that fitted perfectly with her strategy, Natalie agreed.

He fell asleep before the early news. Watching him, she suppressed the urge to brush a wayward lock of hair from his forehead.

Praying he didn’t wake for a few hours, she slipped out the door to meet Auggie. Luckily, the inn was only a few blocks from the agreed-upon meeting place.

Once she reached the beer garden, she saw the proprietors had enclosed the garden for the winter, using clear plastic tarps over a huge, metal frame. Six-foot-tall patio heaters were situated all around the seating area, and several of the college students had removed their coats.

Taking a deep breath, Natalie stepped inside. The warmth was amazing. Heading across the concrete, she stopped in her tracks. Instead of Auggie, Dennie Pachla waited at the table she and Auggie had always snagged, two foaming mugs of beer in front of him.

Staring at the alcohol, Natalie nearly turned around and ran, but she trusted Auggie. If he wanted his friend the doctor here, then she would rely on his reasoning.

She continued forward, pasting a phony smile on her face while her stomach churned.

Standing as she approached, Dennie crushed her in a bear hug. “Ach, it’s so good to see you, lass.”

Natalie didn’t waste time on pleasantries. “Where’s Auggie?”

“He wasn’t feeling well.” He flashed a brilliant smile. “Must be a touch of the flu. He didn’t want to stand you up, so he asked me to meet you, instead.”

That didn’t sound like the Auggie she’d talked to on the telephone a few hours ago. He hadn’t been sick then. Nor had he acted as though he’d entrust whatever information he had to anyone else.

Something was up.

Yet Dennie was on their side.

Wasn’t he?

Realizing he’d asked her a question, Natalie nodded. She’d always liked the handsome doctor and he’d made no secret of his attraction to her. Once, she’d found this flattering. Now, with her father in harm’s way and the clock ticking, it was merely annoying.

“I don’t have a lot of time,” she warned, shifting from foot to foot, unable to hide her unease.

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