Neither of them had said anything. There was nothing to say that hadn’t just been said.
She’d rested her cheek against his heated chest as she always did and listened as the heavy pounding of his heart as it slowed and the deep breaths turned softer and more even.
That was how she knew he’d fallen asleep.
Scott sleeping while she wasn’t was such a rarity, she unfurled herself a little so that she could just watch him.
Her heart tugged with love and longing. She missed her clean-cut, golden-haired naval officer, although she had to admit the dark, dangerous, stubbly Scott definitely had that sexy thing going. Either way he was one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen. He was almosttooperfect. She’d joked about it earlier, but it was true—and sometimes a little intimidating. But he seemed much less imposing and serious with his eyes closed and expression relaxed—younger and more boyish. It was as if only in sleep could the weight of his job—his duty—be lifted from his shoulders.
She admired what he’d accomplished and was fiercely proud of his role in Team Nine. But the constant pressure and responsibility took its toll. He might not be leading his platoon into missions right now, but trying to keep them alive while finding out what had happened to them was no less responsibility. Maybe it was more so. There wasn’t a chain of command to run up the flagpole for approval. Scott was the one calling all the shots. All of them.
She wished she could carry some of the load for him, but she couldn’t. All she could do was be there for him when he needed her.
She smiled, thinking if the kind of passion they’d justexperienced was the result, she wouldn’t mind him needing her a lot.
Suddenly she sobered as the truth hit. She wasn’t going to “be there” for long. That was the reality. It was the elephant in the room. It was also one of the reasons she wouldn’t let herself wonder what this meant. What could it mean?
Even if Scott forgave her, even if he could find a way to love her again, it wasn’t going to give them a future. It would probably actually be better for him if he kept his distance from her.
No matter what kind of pretty bow they put on the package, nothing could change the fact that she’d been a spy. Her future was probably in a cell somewhere facing charges of treason. The best she could hope for was that they could figure out who was trying to kill her before she went to prison.
Scott’s future—until he’d met her, at least—had been lots of stars and ribbons on his chest and probably a seat at a table in the Pentagon one day. She knew how much he loved being a SEAL and how important it was to him.
Could she really take any of that from him?
She watched the even fall of his breath and felt her own lungs tighten. The hope and happiness she’d felt a few minutes ago felt as if it had turned to ash in her chest.
She knew the answer.
Her life was ruined. She wasn’t going to ruin Scott’s as well. He’d stuck his neck out for her enough already by not taking her in right away and by helping her family. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—ask him to do more. She loved him too much to do that.
She probably should have let him drag her back to DC like he wanted to when he showed up at the farm. But she’d been so scared. She was still scared. But maybe there were worse things than being scared. Like seeing the man you loved destroyed for trying to help you.
But what about the baby?
She guessed that she did have to ask one more thing of him.
• • •
Scott woke with the kind of lazy grogginess that he hadn’t felt in a long time. His body and limbs were heavy, as if he were sinking into quicksand.
Instinctively, he reached for the warm, soft body next to him. When his hands met only air and cool sheets, however, his eyes snapped open with instant alertness. His pulse, which had jumped as well, stalled and then sank along with his heart.
Natalie wasn’t there.
He sat up and looked around the large bedroom that was pooled in the late-afternoon sunlight. His gaze immediately shot to the bathroom. But the door was open and the room empty.
Where the hell was she?
The speed with which he jumped out of bed and threw on his briefs—noticing the clothes he’d torn off her were gone—pointed in the direction where his mind was headed. He told himself she wouldn’t try to slip away again—notnow—but his heart was pounding and every nerve ending was buzzing.
He cursed and tore open the door to his adjoining room.
He stopped so suddenly that he almost stumbled. Natalie was sitting in one of the wingback leather reading chairs, with her bare feet tucked up under the missing T-shirt and underwear that he’d tossed on the floor earlier.
She was on the phone—his burner—and glanced up at him questioningly when he stormed in. Like an idiot. That’s how he felt when he realized his mistake. She hadn’t tried to flee; she was only making a call. A call to her family, he realized when she spoke.
“I can’t wait to see it, Lanie. I’m sorry I missed your birthday. But maybe you can show me the next time I see you.” Pause. She looked over at him where he’d taken a seat on the edge of the bed. “I’m not sure. I hope soon.” He could hear the false optimism in her voice, and it made something pinch between his ribs. “I miss you, too,” she finished quietly.
