It was her friend’s obituary. She had one just like it stashed in a box at the shelf in her bedroom closet. Part of the memories she couldn’t bear to part with but that were too painful to have out in the open.
His death had been one of the hardest she’d ever endured. Julian shouldn’t have died that day in Afghanistan. He should have been able to live a long, happy, and fruitful life. That’s what he deserved.
Instead, he got blown up by a terrorist’s bomb, his body buried beneath literal tons of stone and other inescapable debris.
“Natalia.” Jagger’s stern tone broke through her racing thoughts.
She forced her gaze to lift up to his. With his dark stare locked onto hers, he held out his palm and waited. There was a slight trembling in hers as she gave him the emotional write-up, and it had nothing to do with the cold.
“Julian Miller.” He read her friend’s name. “I take it you know who this is?”
Natalia nodded. “I do. Or rather, I did. Julian was killed on the job three years ago.”
Jagger skimmed the obituary again. “Says here he died in a training accident.”
“It was no accident.” A hard, confident shake of her head. “Julian did on a CIA op. And this…” She held up the envelope. “This isn’t the first one of these I’ve found.”
As she’d feared, Scarlett had messaged earlier to let her know her efforts to retrieve any useable images from the hotel’s security feed had been futile. Whoever had broken in had done so with efficiency and the skills to avoid being caught.
They were still out there. Still messing with her. And Talia had the feeling they weren’t going to stop.
Thirty-five minutesand one freshly brewed pot of coffee later, Natalia was in her kitchen preparing two mugs while simmering with anger. The same asshole who’d left the picture in her hotel room had followed her here, but to what end?
Was it possible one of the hostage’s family members had come looking for revenge? Or were they merely trying to scare her, or make her feel guilty and ashamed for what happened to her friend?
Spoiler alert, asshole. Nothing you do can make me feel worse than I already do.
A splash of steaming hot coffee fell onto the top of Natalia’s hand. The momentary sting in her skin made her jump back into focus just in time to notice Jagger’s mug was overflowing.
“Shit,” she mumbled under her breath, setting the glass pot back onto the coffee maker before reaching for a nearby towel.
“You need any help in there?” Jagger’s deep voice called out to her from the living room.
“Thanks, but I’m good,” she hollered back, quickly taking care of the excess coffee. “You want any cream or sugar?”
“Black’s fine, thanks.”
She’d always preferred the bitter bite of a good cup of dark roast, as well. On a typical day, Natalia wouldn’t even consider drinking caffeine at such a late hour, but tonight was hell and away from normal.
Quit stalling.
Her inner voice was right. She was stalling and for good reason. If she’d gone the rest of her life without revisiting the moment that changed her life forever, it would have been perfectly fine with her.
But Jagger was waiting, and given how infuriated she’d been at him for having deceived her with the whole cancelled flight thing earlier, it would be pretty crappy of her to hold back from him now.
Especially after that kiss.
Natalia’s lower belly began to tingle as she carefully picked up the mugs.If she were being honest, she was equally as upset about her stalker’s untimely interruption as the sick game he was trying to play.
If there’d been no envelope on her car, she and Jagger would most likely be naked by now. In bed—in her bed—having hot, wild, amazing sex. And it would be amazing with him. Of that, she had no doubt. Instead, she was bringing him coffee as he sat fully dressed on her sectional.
Unfortunately for them both, their night of fun had come to an abrupt and unpleasant ending. For Natalia, it was most assuredly about to get worse.
“Careful with this.” She made her way down the short flight of stairs to the townhome’s lower level. “It’s really hot…and full.”
Jagger stood from his spot near the corner of the L-shaped couch and walked over to meet her halfway. “Thanks.” He took one of the steaming mugs from her hand.
Natalia barely controlled her reaction when the tips of their fingers touched. The electrical shock was there, just as it had been before. Only now, since that kiss, it had somehow become exponentially stronger.
