Was she treating him with extra care, or punishing him?
Ford sighed and grabbed the car key from the console in the hallway that served double duty as a foyer.Not wanting to leave her alone any longer than necessary, he hustled to the car, grabbed their bags, and parked it in a nearby lot where someone who worked for Lehmann would pick it up and return it to Marseille.
As directed, after locking the doors, he stuck the key in a magnetic lock box and surreptitiously placed the box inside the wheel well while pretending to tie his shoe.
Vieux Nice looked amazing this close to sunset, its vibrantly painted buildings glowing orange and red in the golden sunlight.Unfortunately, scanning for threats left him too busy to fully appreciate it.Natalie would though.Even on alert, she’d take a moment to enjoy the beauty.For him, watching her reaction might be better than the view.Everything looked better through her eyes.
He shook his head.Jesus, he’d turned into a goddamned sap.And he couldn’t afford the distraction.His fuckups weren’t her fault, but she was a common denominator in two of them.He didn’t want to examine why.
Focus outward.Shutting off the distracting thoughts, he tried to look nonchalant, like a tourist wandering the winding, narrow lanes looking for his rental.He wended his way through the tightly packed tables of people dining alfresco that clogged the old roads.Luckily, the apartment was on the outer edge of the maze, with easy access to the city’s main thoroughfare.
He forced himself to move at a sedate pace along the cobblestone streets, the walk back taking an excruciating ten minutes.Far too much time to ponder how everything could go wrong, how much he’d fucked up.
With relief, he reached the plaza with the now-closed produce market, vacated fish stall, and a convenience store that looked dark and disorganized through its small doorway.Back inside the small apartment a few minutes later, Blitz met him at the door, and his heart flipped over as he dropped the bags and crouched down to stroke her face.“Hey, girl.”Her reaction was still subdued, but she shuffled around, licking at his fingers and slowly wagging her bushy tail.
“She got up right after you left.”Natalie stood in the short hall next to the spiral staircase.
He blinked at the sight of her shorter, darker hair, having forgotten about the change for a moment.“Has she had anything to drink yet?”God, how inane.But at least Natalie was talking to him, looking at him.
“A little.”
Keeping his hand on Blitz’s head, he stood, the furry contact keeping his heart rate almost normal.“Okay, good.”For so many reasons, he should’ve left the dog with Katja, but right now he was glad to have her at his side.
Natalie walked slowly toward him.“She’s going to be alright.”
Ford just nodded.
She stopped less than a foot away and held his gaze.This close, he could see the streaks of gold that lent warmth to her blue eyes.He held his breath, not moving.Her proximity raised goosebumps on his skin, and radically diminished his mental capacity.
“Can I…” Her tongue darted out to slick her bottom lip.“Can I hug you?”
“I don’t need a hug,” he said, his gaze still caught on her mouth.“I’m fine.”And yet, almost of their own accord, his arms encircled her.
She relaxed into him with a soft sigh that heated his blood.Alarms clanged in his head but he ignored them, pressing his palms gently against her upper back, careful not to jar her injured shoulder or crush her sling-bound arm between them.The floral notes of her shampoo teased his senses, and her body turned warm and pliant in his arms.
“Maybe you don’t,” she said, her voice slightly muffled, “but I do.”
God help him, maybe he did too.He shouldn’twantto touch her, hold her, listen to her soft breath, but maybe a hug—from Natalie—was exactly what he needed.
Natalie relaxed into Ford’s hard, warm embrace.His strong arms around her soothed the restlessness that had been eating at her all day.Waiting for him, and for news of Henri and Blitz, had been excruciating.Keeping to herself during the drive too.Herculeanfeat, that.
She trusted very few men in this world.He belonged to that small club and she didn’t want to build more walls between them.
More like she wanted to scale himlikea wall, but that option was off the table.He’d made that more than clear.With a sigh, she slipped out of his arms.“We should eat.”
He let her go far too easily.
Twenty minutes later, they’d finished off their ham-and-butter sandwiches on baguettes—a popular French pairing that Henri had introduced her to—and she was back on her computer.She couldn’t stop a littlewhoopof joy when she spotted a post from Dallas Markham, the Night Herons’ tech genius.
The first was a legit response to someone’s question about how much sunlight cilantro needed.The team maintained semi-active profiles with genuine questions and responses to appear like normal, active forum members.
Soon after his first post, Dallas had responded to hers under his username.
TexasTom: Is this a joke?
“Good news?”Ford asked, drawing her gaze to where he sat on the couch reading a book with Blitz at his feet.If he was good looking in operator mode, he was even more painfully handsome like this, pretending to be relaxed, his hyper-vigilance dialed down to an eight.
She couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face, or the sense of relief that sifted through her like sand.“Yes.Dallas responded.”Even better, according to the green dot next to his handle, Dallas was currently logged into the forum.
