Chapter 35
Natalie’s phone buzzed insistently in her bag as she stepped out of her client’s house, but the sound was drowned out by the scene unfolding on the sidewalk.
Her guards, Ben and John, moved with crisp, practiced precision—Ben wrenching something from Henry’s hand, John driving him to the pavement with a controlled, punishing grip.
The filthy concrete scraped across Henry’s tailored suit as he thrashed, spitting curses. The sight jolted her forward, her pulse spiking.
“Stop it—what are you doing?!” Her voice cut through the air, but neither guard so much as glanced her way.
Her steps faltered when she caught sight of what Ben carried—Henry’s pistol, pinched between two fingers as though it were something distasteful. He turned, walking it toward the SUV with deliberate care. Her gaze swung back to John, who was snapping plastic cuffs tight around Henry’s wrists.
The weapon made her stomach drop. This wasn’t a misunderstanding. Henry had come armed.
“What’s going on?” she demanded, fighting to keep her tone even as icy dread crept up her spine. The wail of sirens swelled in the distance, the edges of her vision narrowing as her mind pieced together what she’d refused to see before.
The crash. The figure walking away. That stiff, deliberate gait.
And now—Henry.
Her voice lowered to a razor’s edge. “It was him, wasn’t it? He’s the one who hit me with the car.”
John hesitated, just long enough to confirm it. “Yes, ma’am. We have traffic cam footage. He tried to mask it, but…” He let the rest hang in the air as Ben returned to stand sentinel by the SUV.
Henry jerked against their hold, his face flushed with fury. “You have nothing!” His eyes were wild, locking on Natalie with venom.
Natalie took a step closer, fingers tightening around her bag strap as though it could anchor her. “Why, Henry?” she asked quietly, the control in her voice at odds with the storm inside her. “Why would you want me dead?”
He hesitated for a moment, then his expression twisted. “Because everyone wanted you!” he spat. “Every client, every call—your name was all I heard!”
The words hit her like a body blow. “That’s good for you, Henry. You own the agency. You take a cut of everything I do. Why would you—”
“For now!” His voice cracked, desperation bleeding through the rage. He strained against the guards’ grip. “How long before you start your own firm? How long before you steal my clients and leave me with nothing?”
Natalie stared at him, stunned. “That never even crossed my mind.” She shook her head, disbelief hardening into anger. “I’m a designer, Henry—not a business owner. I don’t want to deal with payroll or taxes or managing egos. I want to create. That’s what I love. That’s why I work for you.”
For the briefest moment, something uncertain flickered in his eyes.
“If I’d ever considered leaving,” she continued, voice rising, “you could have offered me a partnership. Instead, you tried to kill me. Twice.” She jabbed a finger at him, her tone cutting. “Did you honestly think you’d get away with it?”
Henry’s mouth twisted into a bitter sneer. “I didn’t break into your house, Natalie,” he snapped. “And the glitter bomb wasn’t me.” He jerked his chin toward Ben. “But yeah, I tried to kill you. And I would’ve gotten away with it too if it hadn’t been for your damn boyfriend!”
The absurdity of his confession struck her, and despite the knot of rage and fear in her chest, an image of those old Saturday morning cartoons with the meddling kids and their talking dog flashed in her mind. She almost laughed. Almost.
Instead, her teeth ground together. Her hands curled into fists. Her body trembled—not from fear, but fury.
“You’re insane,” she hissed, stepping back as the wail of police sirens swelled. Blue and red lights flashed across the neighborhood.
The guards handed Henry over to the approaching officers. He twisted in their grip just long enough to hurl one last glare at her. “You ruined me, Natalie! And that asshole boyfriend of yours was going to make things worse! You—”
“You ruined yourself,” she cut in coldly. “You tried to kill me because of your insecurities. That’s on you.”
His shouts echoed as the officers muscled him toward a cruiser, his humiliation as loud as his rage. Natalie stood rooted to the spot, her breath shallow, her pulse pounding in her ears.
Her phone buzzed again in her bag. This time, she pulled it free, shaking her head at the madness of it all. Under her breath, she muttered, “I’m sorry I fell in love with a wonderful man, Henry,” then thumbed the button to answer.
“Hey,” she said, her voice trembling but steady enough to pass muster.
“I saw everything on the monitor,” Rylan said without preamble, his tone sharp with concern. “Are you okay?”
She glanced toward the police cruiser just as Henry ducked into the back seat, his head bowed in defeat. Her reply came quieter, weighted. “I will be.”
“You love me?” he demanded.
The question jolted her. She looked instinctively at Tom and John—both casually raising their arms to show the microphones tucked under their sleeves.
Heat rushed to her face. She turned away, bowing her head so her voice carried only into the phone.
“Rylan, it didn’t mean anything,” she said quickly, knowing that the smallest show of vulnerability could send him retreating.
“It means everything,” he growled, the words low and rough. A taut silence stretched between them before he added, “I love you too, Natalie. Get back here and let me prove it to you.”
For several seconds she couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. His words seemed to echo in her bones.
“Natalie?” he prompted.
The sound of his voice pulled her back. She blinked hard, her fingers tightening around the phone. “Rylan, you don’t have to say that. It’s okay.”
She heard a low string of words in his native language—none of them sounded polite. When he switched back to English, his tone was softer, coaxing. “Honey, I don’t want to have this conversation over the phone. Will you come back to me?”
“Yes,” she said, this time without hesitation.
She turned to find John already in the driver’s seat, and Tom holding the back door open with a knowing smile. “I’m getting in the car now.” She paused, glancing toward the police cruiser as it rolled away, lights still flashing. “Do we need to go give a statement?” she asked Tom.
“Get in the car!” Rylan snarled through the phone.
“We’ll give statements later. Tom’s already sent the video evidence to the police—he’s been coordinating with them the whole time.
” There was a sigh, and she pictured him dragging a hand over his face.
“Just…I need to see you, Natalie. I need to know you’re safe. ”
She slid into the back seat. As soon as Tom closed his door, John pulled away, the SUV eating up the streets back to Rylan’s home.
Ten minutes later, they rolled into the drive. Rylan was already there, striding toward them. Before the SUV had fully stopped, he yanked the door open and pulled her into his arms.
She yelped in surprise, but melted against him instantly.
“Say it again,” he ordered, pressing her back against the side of the vehicle before his mouth claimed hers.
Normally, Natalie would be self-conscious about others seeing her kissing anyone, but when Rylan kissed her, she tended to forget there was anything or anyone else in the world besides him. He overwhelmed her. Thankfully, John and Tom stepped away, giving them privacy for this conversation.
When Rylan finally lifted his mouth, they were both panting. He pressed his forehead against hers, his hands inching their way under the silk blouse she wore.
“Say it,” he urged.
“I love you,” she whispered, a bit shy now. But then his hands cupped her breasts and she groaned.
“I love you so damn much!” he replied back. “Tell me you’ll marry me.”
That wasn’t what she’d been expecting. “Let’s go upstairs”, or “damn that sounds nice” were two phrases she’d hoped would come next. But marriage?
“Rylan,” she huffed, grabbing his wrists and looking up at him. She suddenly realized that her legs were wrapped around his waist and he had her pinned against the SUV. Laughing, she pushed against his shoulders and he carefully lowered her to the ground.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, leaning in to kiss her again.
“Stop!” she laughed, turning her head. But the dratted man was undeterred. Instead of kissing her lips, he found the spot right under her ear. He’d discovered that spot the second time they’d made love and had perfected his technique almost immediately. “Rylan! We need to talk.”
“Go ahead. Talk about anything you want to discuss,” he urged, pinching her nipple through the lace of her white bra.
She hissed, her back arching and there were no more words.
A moment later, he lifted her into his arms, carrying her up the stairs.
For a moment, Natalie was a bit self-conscious of the fact that there were about ten people somewhere in his home.
But then he slammed the door to his bedroom behind them and kissed her deeply.
While stripping off her clothes.
The man was extremely efficient.
Once he had her on her back and was looming over her, only then did he continue the subject. “So, when are we getting married?” he asked, taking her nipple in his mouth. And sucking! Hard!
Natalie couldn’t concentrate. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him as close as she could. She didn’t want to discuss marriage or anything else just now. She wanted him inside her, thrusting and filling her up.
“Whenever,” she hissed, pulling his head away.
He allowed that, but only so that he could move to the other one.
He nibbled on that one first, then sucked on the tip while one hand moved lower, sliding between her legs.
One finger moved inside of her and Natalie almost shrieked with frustration.
His thumb flicked against that nub and she nearly climaxed right then and there.