Chapter 28
Natalie swallowed past the nervousness the next morning as she stared in the mirror. She had done no more than doze the entire night, thinking about confronting Irina Matveev—and Owen’s presence.
She was conflicted. She wanted to hate him for what he’d done. Time had dulled the heartache so that she had to keep reminding herself how badly she’d been hurt.
Could she really hold a man accountable for his actions as a teenager?
There was no doubt she wanted to, but it wasn’t as easy as that. Sleeping with Owen had only complicated things to the extreme. She’d told him they were consenting adults, but the reality was that she’d wanted him.
After their kiss, she knew she was going to give in to the passion between them. When it came to Owen, she had never been able to resist his enticing kisses or his touch.
He’d had power over her body that seemed almost otherworldly from the very beginning. And nothing had changed that.
If she hadn’t been staring at his ass, she never would’ve tripped and wound up in his arms again. All she’d wanted to do was remain there. But no good could come of them together again.
She’d managed to walk away, but it had been close. With him so near, it was all she’d been able to think about.
His hands, his mouth. His thick cock filling her.
She closed her eyes and fisted her hands, trying to bring her body under control. Her sex throbbed, eager to have Owen inside her again, thrusting hard and fast.
Natalie shook her head to clear it of such thoughts—or at least push them aside for the moment. She opened her eyes, looking over herself in the mirror.
The tan corduroy jacket fit as if it had been custom-made, and it was one of her favorite pieces. She paired it with a cream shirt, jeans, and brown boots—without a heel. She was going to be prepared if she had to run.
Satisfied, she walked from the bathroom to find Owen double-checking her pistol in her purse.
“Ready?” he asked.
“As I’ll ever be.”
“You have the knife in your boot?”
She bent and pulled out the knife far enough so he could see the handle before shoving it back down.
He gave a nod. “Don’t reach for your gun unless you have to.”
“We’ve been over this.”
“And we’re going over it again. I’ll have you covered. The gun is there for an emergency.”
She shot him a wry look. “If you have to open fire, I’d say it’s an emergency.”
His gave her an equally droll look. “You’re supposed to run, remember?”
“I will. Don’t worry about that.”
Pleased with her answer, Owen checked the monitors one more time. “Let’s go.”
They left in the dark once more. She longed for the days she could walk out of her house and get into her car without having to hike for an hour first.
She was glad they didn’t talk on the way to the truck. Silence allowed both of them to hear everything, but she also didn’t have to worry about keeping up with the conversation.
After she climbed into the truck, her hands shook as she fastened the seatbelt. When she lifted her gaze, Owen was staring at her.
“You’ll be fine,” he said. “I’ll have you covered.”
“I know.”
He started the truck and put it in drive. She looked behind them as they rolled away.
“Tell me the exits, starting at A,” Owen said.
She took a deep breath, grateful to have something for her mind to focus on. One by one, she went through the exit strategies and where she would wait for him.
Anticipating his next question, she went through each scenario if she got trapped from one exit and how to escape if it happened. By the time she’d finished, the Dallas skyline was in sight.
“If anything happens, you won’t have time to think,” he said. “It’s why I wanted you to memorize all of that. You’ll have to trust yourself to know where to go.”
“And if I forget.”
He took the exit toward downtown Dallas. “Get to the truck. Wait there for an hour. If I’ve not made it back, drive away and call Wyatt.”
“You’ll make it back.”
Owen glanced at her and pulled off the highway. “Of course, I will.”
He was just saying that to appease her. She suddenly wanted to turn the truck around and head back. This was a stupid idea. One or both of them could get killed.
“Let’s forget this and return to the ranch,” she said.
Owen reached over and grasped her hand, squeezing it. “We’ve come this far. Besides, you were right, we need information.”
They turned sharply and slowed before turning again to pull into the parking garage. Owen steered the truck to a ground floor spot near the exit and shut off the engine. They would leave the truck there and make their way, separately, to their places.
He pulled the keys out and sighed. Then he turned his head to her. “If you want to go back because you’re scared for me, then I’ll sit here and talk you out of it. If you want to return because you’re afraid for your life, then I’ll start the truck and we’ll get back on the freeway.”
She opened her mouth to answer, then hesitated. Her father had died of a heart attack when she was five. She hadn’t grown up with a father figure around, but that didn’t mean she didn’t understand the connection.
She thought about how she might feel if it was her dad who had gotten kidnapped. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to find him, and she didn’t have the skillset that Owen did.
Her initial reaction to find Irina Matveev and speak with her was because they had to know who controlled the assassins. Leaving now would mean they still had nothing.
In answer, she reached for the door. Owen’s hand stopped her before she could open it. She looked at him, brow raised in question.
“Here,” he said and handed her the earpiece.
She had completely forgotten about that little piece of tech. She took it and stuck it in her ear.
“Testing,” Owen said after he put his in.
She gave him a thumbs up and smiled. “Loud and clear.”
Owen’s chuckle helped her to relax. She blew out a breath and pulled down the visor to check her hair. When she’d finished and pushed up the visor, she clasped her hands in her lap and looked at him.
With a nod, Owen climbed out of the vehicle. The plan was for him to get in place first and check everything before she walked to her designated position.
She watched him leave, suddenly feeling more apprehensive than ever. Natalie closed her eyes after he’d turned the corner and took deep, even breaths to stay calm.
It was going to take him about forty-five minutes to get all the guns in place. He carried the black duffle bag casually, as if he’d done this kind of thing a million times.
Natalie drummed her fingers, she played I Spy With My Little Eye (which was hard to do with just one person), and she sang Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen twice.
Then she leaned her head back and went through each of their escape routes one by one as she had on the way to Dallas. There was no room for screw-ups, no chance for her to make the wrong decision.
Finally, Owen’s voice came through her ear. “I’m in place.”
Now it was her turn. She sat up, her stomach pitching violently. She was going to be sick. Adventure wasn’t her cup of tea. She liked sedate and cautious.
This was the opposite in every way.
“Nat?”
“I’m here,” she hurried to reply.
There was a pause. Then he asked, “You about to be sick?”
“How did you know?”
“This is serious shit. I’d be worried if you weren’t.”
That made her smile. Owen would be in her ear the entire time, looking at her through a scope. If there was one person she trusted above all others—it was Owen.
No matter what, when he gave his word, he didn’t go back on it. And he’d promised he would keep her safe.
“Do you want to leave?” he asked.
She grabbed the keys and opened the door. “Absolutely not.”
“Good.”
She slung her purse strap over her shoulder and shut the door before hiding the keys behind the back driver’s side tire. Then she straightened and began her long walk to her spot.
The sun was up in the clear, blue sky. The nip in the air would last until about noon when the Texas heat would push it back until nightfall.
Her strides were long and sure as she crossed street after street, winding her way to downtown. Just as planned, she got on the Dallas Area Rapid Transit or DART train and rode for a small ways.
Once she exited, she walked another four blocks before she was in the downtown area. She saw her designated location ahead and slowed.
She veered off to get a coffee at a stand outside some office buildings. She ordered a latte and took a seat at one of the tables, giving her a view of the area.
It was still a long time before Irina was due to make an appearance. Natalie settled in and took a sip of her coffee.
“Got you in my sights,” Owen’s voice said in her ear. “Pretty sure getting a latte wasn’t in the plan.”
She kept the cup by her lips and grinned. “I wasn’t going to stand around doing nothing. Everyone gets coffee.”
“Point taken.”
She glanced at her watch. Forty minutes until Irina would make an appearance. The gorgeous day, cool temperatures, and sunshine all had Natalie wanting to relax. But it was the farthest thing from her mind.
The assassins could be lurking behind any building. They could be watching her now. Any of the people around her could be after her.
It set her nerves on edge. How in the hell did spies do this for a living? Every sound made her jump. She watched everyone around her, waiting for them to make a wrong move or look as if they were coming toward her.
“Easy, Nat. You’re safe.”
She snorted. “Don’t lie to me. I’m far from safe.”
“No one will get within ten yards of you if I think for one instant they mean you harm.”
The cold tone in his voice told her he meant every word. “I wish you were beside me.”
And she meant it. She realized she’d taken his presence the last few days for granted. He might be watching her, but she still felt utterly alone.
“I’m beside you. And above you. I see everything. You’re my focus.”
She fisted her hand, wishing his fingers were threaded through hers. Damn it! Was Owen somehow worming his way back into her heart?
No. That wasn’t possible. She was frightened. And when she got scared, she clung to what she knew was safe—Owen.
He was the only man who’d ever made her feel completely secure. With him, she knew he would guard her, protect her with his very life. He’d always made her feel as if she could conquer the world as long as he was with her.
She tried to think of all the exit strategies once more, but her mind kept returning to the night she’d spent in Owen’s arms.
It had been heavenly. Blissful.
Amazing.
But she didn’t need him—or any man for that matter. She was in a good place.
Why did she keep telling herself that? Was she stating a fact, or trying to convince herself?
That was the question, and she couldn’t seem to find an answer.