Scott grabbed on tightly and buried his nose in herhair, inhaling the scent of citrus and hay. The feeling of her warm and safe in his arms was overwhelming. He’d lost her once, and the thought of losing her a second time had cut him to the bone. The swell of emotion filled his chest and squeezed his throat. He’d forgotten how slight she was. How soft. How vulnerable. She melted into him, her body giving over in complete surrender and relief. In trust that made something deep inside him warm.
When he thought of what could have happened to her...
He actually shuddered. He couldn’t go there. Not again.
He might not have the answer, but he couldn’t deny this.
“I was so scared,” she said, sobbing into his chest. Her fingers were digging into his arms and shoulders like a terrified kitten who wasn’t going to let go. Which was fine by him.
“I know. I was, too,” he murmured soothingly, not sure whom he was trying to calm: her or himself. His heart was still pounding like a damned freight train. He was sweating, for Christ’s sake. The ice in his veins had clearly melted.
She pulled back and looked up at him. The look in her eyes... the emotion... the fear. He couldn’t have stopped himself if he wanted to, and he sure as hell didn’t want to. He needed this just as much as she did. Needed the connection. Needed to know she was all right.
He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. Gently. Tenderly. Telling her what he couldn’t put into words—even to himself.
• • •
Natalie felt as if her chest were going to burst. The sweet, tender poignancy of his kiss almost hurt. For the first time there was nothing between them. No lies,no pretense, only emotion. Raw emotion stripped of everything—even lust—by fear.
Those men had been moments away from killing her, and they both knew it. Her hiding place in the back of one of the stalls under a pile of hay wouldn’t have lasted long. If Scott hadn’t come when he did and delayed them...
She didn’t want to think about it. Not now. Not when he was holding her and kissing her like this. Telling her with each tender caress of his lips and tongue what she’d never dared hope. He still cared for her. He might not want to, but a man didn’t kiss a woman like this if he didn’t care about her. Gently. Reverently. As if she meant everything in the world to him.
It was the way he’d kissed her the last time she’d seen him. When he told her he had something important he wanted to talk to her about when he got back from his mission. She hadn’t let herself wonder about it, alternately fearing that it would be or wouldn’t be what she thought it was. Now, given what she’d done, the idea of a proposal was laughable, but his kiss still made her heart squeeze with longing and possibility.
Those men had done what she might never have been able to do: broken through the wall of distrust and lies that had separated them. The initial anger at his accusation that had sent her to the stables to work had turned to a feeling of defeat and hopelessness. She’d wondered whether she’d made a mistake in not escaping when she had the chance. But now she knew she’d been right to put her trust in him. He still cared for her. She could feel it in every brush, every stroke, every movement of his mouth over hers.
She wished she could hold on to the moment forever. But all too soon, he pulled back.
He stroked the side of her face with callused fingers,looking into her eyes with an expression that made her heart tighten all over again.
“I need to check and make sure they are gone.”
She nodded. He pulled back enough for her to notice the spots of blood on his T-shirt. “Wait, you’re hurt!”
He looked down, barely glancing at the blood. “It’s nothing.” He lifted his arms and flicked out a couple of pieces of glass. “But I’m afraid you’re going to have to replace your living room window.”
If the number of bullets she’d heard earlier was any indication, she suspected there was a lot more damage than one window. But he hadn’t been shot—again. That was what mattered.
Natalie thought about following Scott outside, but she took a few steps and froze. The black-clad, masked, prone figure of a man was partially blocking the doorway. She looked away, feeling suddenly queasy. Scott must have shot one of the hit men.
TheRussianhit men.
It wasn’t until that moment that she’d had a chance to think about it. What blood had returned to her body, promptly rushed back out. They’d found her. Dear God, they’d found her.
Her hand immediately went to her stomach as she sank onto the chair that held the boom box. She felt it pressing into her backside but didn’t care. Her legs had suddenly turned to jelly.
What was she going to do? Her baby? Her family? And now Scott?
She didn’t have time to think about it as Scott walked back into the barn; he wasn’t alone. Natalie had heard the siren, but she was still taken aback to see the sheriff with him. Her gaze shot to Scott’s with fresh worry, but he shook his head. She understood. At this point, there wasn’t anything they could do to avoid Brock’s inevitable questions.
“Are they gone?” she asked, standing up.
Both men’s expressions were grim as they nodded.
“I went after them on foot,” Brock said. “But I had to turn around when they reached their car. They parked just off the county road and came in from behind the tree line. I called in an APB on the car.”
Natalie could hear the “but” in his voice. “But you think they are already long gone?”
