“No, but one of my men’s soon-to-be father-in-law is the head of one of the biggest private security contractors in the US. He has the jets and the ability to mobilize an army in a couple hours. His men are mostly former Teamguys so they are used to operating on a short string.” She knew Scott had operated on a four-hour string, meaning he would be ready to go on a mission in four hours. His eyes held hers. “They’ll be safe, Nat. But you probably should give your parents a heads-up about what’s happening.” He nodded to the phone that he’d put in the tray between the two seats. “You can use it when you are ready.”
She swallowed, feeling the emotion catching in her throat again. “What do I say?”
He seemed to understand that she wasn’t just talking about the team who would be descending on her parents and sister. How did you tell the parents who’d loved you and welcomed you into their home that you’d betrayed them by spying on the country that had taken you in? She’d had a good reason and didn’t think she had a choice, but that didn’t prevent all the shame.
Her parents were as red, white, and blue, apple pie, proud Americans from the heartland as there came.
“Don’t worry about that right now,” Scott said. “You can explain everything later. Right now, I think they’ll just be happy to hear that you are alive.”
He was right.
Natalie’s hand shook as she picked up the phone and dialed the number. It rang five times before her mother picked up.
The burning in Natalie’s throat had built and built with every ring so that when she finally heard the familiar voice—her mother’s voice—she could barely get the words out before the sobs racked her. “Mom, it’s me. It’s Natalie. I’m okay.”
And strangely for the first time in a long time—since Mick had walked into that bar—she was.
She had Scott to thank for that. They might by speeding south down the interstate, fleeing the hit team that was after them, but by protecting her family, Scott had given her the sense of peace and security she’d never thought to have again.
She couldn’t help but wonder how long it would last.
• • •
If Natalie was still lying to him, it wasn’t about her family. The emotions Scott heard in her side of the conversation with her mother were too deep and raw to be feigned—Oscar-caliber acting or not.
But he was beginning to realize Natalie wasn’t much of an actor at all. Maybe that was what had made her so effective. Even behind the glossy mask that Mick had created, the genuine woman had shown through. That was why he’d trusted her and hadn’t guessed what she was up to.
It was also why he’d never been able to figure her out. She really was two sides of a coin, and that was what made her so fascinating. Confident and driven enough to leave the family that she loved to go to Washington to fight an injustice, strong enough to stand up to and defy the man who’d raped her, smart enough to become the right hand of one of the most powerful men in the US government, and yet not too sophisticated or glamorous to know her way around a kitchen, power tools, and a toilet valve or to start an artisanal cheese business to save the family farm and create a job for her special-needs sister.
Natalie might have tried, but she hadn’t been able to hide from him. Not completely. Especially when they were in bed or enjoying a leisurely Sunday morning withcoffee and a paper—a real paper—on the balcony of his loft. That was when he’d seen the soft, vulnerable side of her that had never made sense.
It made sense now.
He listened to her sobs of relief and joy as she gave a truncated, tearful explanation of how she’d been blackmailed into doing something horrible, how Jennifer had been caught in the cross fire, and how she thought the only way out was to let them think she was dead, but that now the men were after her again.
Scott didn’t need to hear the other side of the conversation to know that her mother was taking her to task for not telling them, but ultimately understanding and—as Scott had predicted—just beyond happy and grateful to know that her daughter was alive.
Natalie explained how there would be some men arriving to keep them safe until this was over. Apparently her mother tried to protest, but Natalie was insistent. “It is necessary. These men mean business, Mom. They killed Jen, and they sent five men with assault rifles to try to do the same to me. Dad’s shotgun isn’t going to be enough. And what about Lana?”
Scott sensed her mother’s capitulation. Apparently Natalie wasn’t the only one who was fiercely protective of her sister.
There was silence on the phone for a moment. Natalie’s gaze flickered to him uneasily. “Yes, he’s with me.” Another pause, where she seemed to be fighting a smile through the shimmer of tears. “Yes, he still knows how to handle a weapon, Mom. He doesn’t sit behind a desk all the time.”
Scott shot her a sharp frown. Not because she’d obviously told her mother that he was in the military and an officer but because she’d let her think he wasn’t a ground pounder. He sat behind a desk when rotations demandedthat he had to, but he was still operational, still deployed with his team, and still went on every op he could.
He wouldn’t be ready to sit behind a desk permanently for a long time.
Averylong time.
Natalie and her mother talked for a few more minutes, and although he got the feeling they were still talking about him, from Natalie’s “uh-huh’s” and “okay’s” he couldn’t figure out what they were saying.
Just before she hung up, Natalie said, “I’ll call Lana and Dad later, once you have a chance to prepare them, okay?” and then the tearful “I love you, too,” that made him grip the wheel tighter and put all his focus on the road ahead of him.
He didn’t trust himself to look at her. Hearing those words fall so easily from her mouth... it made his chest squeeze with a fierce sense of longing that he didn’t want to acknowledge.
Natalie was quiet for a while and found some tissues in her bag to wipe her red-rimmed, swollen eyes. She flipped down the mirror, presumably to repair her eye makeup, but it wasn’t necessary—the makeup or the repair job. She was beautiful no matter what she did. The soft skin, the pouty red lips, the long wavy hair, the big baby-doll Slavic eyes...
He cursed, feeling the heat stirring certain parts of his body—hard.
