Guess this is one of those potato, patahto situations.
Except the excuse she’d given Jagger as to why she couldn’t join him for lunch was a bit more than an issue of semantics. The claim of needing to rush back for a “meeting” was admittedly more than a little white lie.
It was a bit ridiculous, given the man’s knowledge of how ops like this worked. But even if she’d wanted to tell him the truth—and she absolutely didnot—Natalia hadn’t been givenpermission to read him in on anything beyond the scope of last night’s op.
As far as Homeland was concerned, Delta Team had fulfilled their contractual duty regarding this particular job. Natalia, however, was the leader of the agency’s secretive, off-the-books team that had been hunting Arlo Sanchez for quite some time.
Not only was she expected to be present when it came time to interrogate his men, she wanted to be there. To be the one in those small, windowless rooms as she asked all the right questions.
Most importantly, she needed to sit across from those men, look them square in the eyes, and explain the one and only way to help themselves was to give up what they knew about Sanchez.
Between that and wanting to see if Scarlett could get anything useful from the picture—or better yet, the hotel’s security footage—the urgency she felt to get back to D.C. was growing fiercer by the minute.
You do know Jagger and the guys could find the answers you’re looking for, right? All you’d have to do is ask.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t toyed with the idea of turning to Jagger for help. She had. Several times, as a matter of fact. But if Jagger and the others knew of the details surrounding her departure from the CIA, the trust she’d worked damn hard to earn could be irreparably broken.
They have to know I’m qualified to do this job. They need to know they can trust me to keep them safe.
Another passenger accidentally bumped into Natalia’s shoulder, sending her backpack and purse into a slide down the length of her arm.
“Sorry,” the middle-aged man mumbled low as he hurriedly brushed past.
The unexpected—and much needed—jostle snapped her back to the present. After repositioning the bags’ straps, she straightened her spine, pulled in a deep breath, and took a moment to regroup.
Standing here, staring up at a board that showed no signs of changing was getting her absolutely nowhere. Her mind raced to figure out the best next step.
New plan.
Natalia would see if another flight to D.C. was scheduled for today. If not, she’d have no other choice but to rent a car—again—and haul ass back to D.C. Not ideal, by any means, but the situation was out of her hands.
Decision made, she swung hastily around to begin squeezing her way out of the growing crowd. But with her focus split between her bags and the people around her, Natalia only made it half-a-step before slamming smack dab into a giant wall of muscle.
Hard. Sculpted. A spicy male scent that was shockingly familiar.
“Whoa.” Two strong, gentle hands held her shoulders steady to keep her from falling. “Easy there, darlin’.”
That voice. I know that voice.
Every muscle in Natalia’s body froze. She had to be wrong. It couldn’t possibly be him. But as she followed the row of small buttons running up the center of the man’s dark blue shirt, she realized?—
I definitely know that shirt.
She’d actually spent all morning pretending she didn’t love the way that exact shirt moved over the toned biceps and chest it covered and that she wasn’t wildly attracted to the man who’d been wearing it.
“Jagger?” Natalia finally forced herself to meet his dark, alluring eyes. “Wha…what are you doing here?”
That mouth of his curved in the way she was starting to like a little too much. “I came to offer you my services.”
“Services?” The clarifying question came out a bit high and squeaky. “What, uh…” She cleared her throat and tried again. “What type of services are you offering, exactly?”
I could think of a few, just off the top of my head.
Natalia cleared her throat again, along with the unexpected thought.
“I got an FCC alert about a cancelled flight from Chicago to D.C.” Jagger motioned to the electronic board behind her. “You said you needed to get back there ASAP. I tried calling, but it went straight to voicemail, so I headed straight here.”
He slid his hands into his pockets with that same, cocky grin that sent her heart fluttering and her lower belly tingling with need. Natalia blinked, still trying to process the fact that he was here, in the airport. And he was offering to…take her home?
