“It wasn’t your fault, Nate,” she said, holding his hand as they sat opposite each other on the end of the bed.
“It was, Emma. I was supposed to be there.” He dropped her hand and got up, pacing. “It was our engagement party, dammit. A family event. Our daughter, Charlie, was with us. She was only a year old,” he said, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. There, tucked safely inside one of the leather folds was a picture of a blue-eyed baby girl with dark gold curls. The last picture taken of Nate’s daughter. He looked at it as he had hundreds of times since that night. With care, he showed Emma. “Jessica and I named her Charlotte after her grandmother and Marie after mine. I called her Charlie,” he smiled. “But then my pager went off and I had to leave. You know, we can’t just ignore it. As a Green Beret, I’m on call 24/7 and I can’t stop and offer explanations. What we do is top secret.”
“I understand,” said Emma.
“Do you?” Nate’s voice was tortured. “Because I don’t think Jessica ever really did. How could she? It took a year after Charlie’s birth just to have enough time to get engaged, to plan the party. I had to leave before we even cut the cake. She said she would call a cab and be okay, but that’s not what happened. Instead, she decided to walk the ten blocks home. I don’t know why the hell she did that! And with Charlie?” Anger poured out of him as his hands flexed. “The last we knew of her whereabouts was a security camera two blocks from our apartment in Fort Carson. She stopped in to the convenience store on the corner and when she came out, a man followed her. He’d been standing outside near the gas pumps. That’s how he was caught. Got his face clear as day on video. He was an illegal from Mexico. Been deported twice and was still back in the country. He had a rap sheet a mile long. Robbery, possession, assault, known links to MS13. Jessica tried to defend herself. I don’t even know how she survived, but Charlie…” his voice trailed off.
Emma went to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face into his chest. “I’m so sorry, Nate.”
His arms went around her automatically, seeking the comfort he’d denied himself for so long. Nate leaned into her hair, inhaling the floral scent. “It wasn’t the same afterwards. She couldn’t forgive me. I couldn’t forgive myself. In the end, she left, moving back to Texas.”
Emma didn’t know what else to say. Nate had lost everything doing his duty. It wasn’t fair. His job was to protect people and yet because of that job, he felt he’d failed to protect the two most important people in his life. She felt his pain keenly and wanted only to take it away.
“I’m sure Jessica doesn’t blame you, Nate. Did she ever say that she did?” she looked up at him.
His blue eyes were haunted with old ghosts. “Not in so many words.”
“There. See? She never said it. She was hurting too. That’s all. Nate,” she said, reaching up, touching his face, “forgive yourself.”
“I can’t,” he whispered. “Charlie…”
“She would want you to forgive yourself too.”
“How do you know that?” he said, raw with emotion.
“Because, she was your daughter. And if the situation was reversed somehow, you wouldn’t want her blaming herself, being so unhappy. It’s what you would tell her…so follow your own advice. It will bring you both peace.”
Nate knew she was right but letting go after holding on to the pain for so long wasn’t easy. It was part of him, and he felt like letting it go would be like losing Charlie all over again.
“I don’t know if I can, Emma.”
She held his head, caressing his hair. “You can, Nate. She’ll always be with you,” she said, reaching out a hand to touch his chest, “right here, safe in your heart, forever.”
Nate leaned into her hand and lowered his forehead until it touched hers. Slowly, their breathing synced as they stood holding each other.
“I’m sorry.” His softly spoken words felt like a balm on Emma’s heart.
“Me too.”
“What are you sorry about?” His eyes searched hers.
“Whatever it is I did to make you not want to be around me anymore.” She swallowed, her gaze falling away and fixating on his shirt.
Nate groaned, pulling her closer. “Emma, you didn’t do a thing. It’s all on me. I’ve been a dick and you didn’t deserve it. Any of it.”
“But you’ve been avoiding me since we got back to London. I know I messed up leaving your room and going off in a strange place on my own, and then when you said it’s because I made myself a target with the articles I’ve written…”
Nate placed a finger over her lips. “Stop. Look at me.” He slid the finger under her chin tilting her face up to his. “It was me. When I found out you were E.J. Lewis, the same writer whose articles I’d been reading, it threw me, okay? I’ve had to reconcile the journalist to the woman I got to know. And you didn’t do anything wrong. Terrorists are sick assholes who fixate on crazy shit. You can’t go around walking on eggshells trying not to set one off. You’d be crazy. Also, your articles, while perhaps naïve where terrorists are concerned, are well-written and intelligent. Maybe a little too ‘pie in the sky’ sometimes for my tastes, but then, I’m jaded. Hard not to be doing what I do, but you have heart, Emma. I know that now. You care about people. It’s a special quality. You’re a special woman. You don’t have a damn thing to apologize for.”
Emma was floored. Her mouth had fallen open somewhere around his admission that he read her articles and despite not liking hearing she was naïve about anything, he’d said she was a good writer, intelligent, and…special.
Nate noticed her shocked expression and lack of response to his words. “What?”
“You read my articles,” she said, smiling, and then leaned up on tip-toes kissing him.
Stunned for a moment, Nate kissed her back. It began in sweet exploration but quickly escalated into blazing passion.
He pulled away, panting. “Are you sure?” he asked.
“Oh yes. I’m sure,” she grinned.
“Thank God,” he growled.
In no time, he’d stripped her naked and laid her upon the bed where he proceeded to show her just how special she’d become to him in such a short time. This time, it wasn’t just a joining of bodies. It was a joining of hearts.
In the wee hours of the morning, they lay entwined, skin against skin, sated.
“Nate?” she whispered.
“Mmn-hmn?” he murmured, eyes closed, his arms holding her close.
“You really read my articles?”
He chuckled. “Yes, Emma. I really do.”
“But you think I’m naïve…” she shifted away and he pulled her back to him.
“I didn’t mean it like that. It was more about not knowing the uglier side of what you write about where terrorists are concerned. Honestly, honey, that’s a good thing. But now,” he paused, raising a hand to tuck a stray strand behind her ear, “now you’ve seen some of it. You’ve been in a terrifying situation. I wish I could turn back the clock and prevent that from ever happening.”
“But you can’t,” she said. Snuggling closer, she added, “still, the fact that you wish you could means everything to me. One good thing, at least…” she teased.
Nate waited, and when she didn’t answer, he asked, “What?”
“Any future articles I write won’t have that same naivete anymore. That should help keep your blood pressure down.”
“There’s always that,” Nate agreed.
Emma gasped, slapping his shoulder. “Nate!”
He laughed, grabbing her hand and carrying it to his lips. He dropped light kisses on her fingers. “I was only kidding. Truth is, I’ll miss that.” He rolled, pulling her atop his body. “I kind-of liked naïve Emma.” He gazed at her face taking in her tumbled hair and kiss-swollen lips. “She’s a treasure. A woman of heart and fiery passion.”
Smiling, Emma squirmed atop him, wrapping her legs around his waist as she drew a line over the stubble on his chee
k. “So you don’t like me now?”
Nate groaned, grinning at the wanton woman growing bolder and more confident with every passing minute. He glanced down at her breasts pressed against his chest and with wicked intent, rolled his hips, thrusting his rising desire into her sensitive core. She sucked in a sharp breath, biting her lip.
“I like you more than I should,” he whispered, watching the sexy expression on her sweet face as he rolled his hips again. “Maybe I need to show you again because I think you forgot about earlier already and repetition, as I’m sure you know, helps memory, Miss Lewis.”
Nate quickly reversed their positions and in one smooth motion, slid deep inside her warmth.
“Oh my gosh, yes,” she groaned. “Show me.”
“Hang on, baby.” Nate swiveled and then thrust deep, increasing the pace, all the while watching Emma lose herself in the pleasure.
They made love, each giving, each taking, until the world exploded in a million pieces. As they lay catching their breath, Nate leaned up on his elbow staring into Emma’s eyes. He smiled slowly.
“What? she asked. “What are you smiling about?”
He shook his head and touched her hair, winding a strand around his finger. “When this is over, I want to take you out on a proper date. Anywhere you want.”
Emma grinned. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” he answered softly.
“Okay. It’s a date.”
Nate gathered her close, settling them both in as he pulled the covers up around her shoulders. Content and exhausted, they finally slept.
When Emma woke the next morning, Nate was gone.
Chapter 14
Even though she was disappointed to find him already up and out the door, Emma was happy. The world was a rosier place, except for the fact that a brutal terrorist was after her. But besides that, she couldn’t stop smiling. Nate was the reason. His touch thrilled her. His kisses melted her bones and the things he did to her body should probably be illegal, but it was the way he made her feel that was the cherry on top of her sundae. He liked her. A lot, he’d said, and he’d shown her several times over. Not just in bed, but with his actions. He’d risked his life to save hers. He was, even now, putting himself between her and a killer. And then when she’d stepped out of the shower, there were packages of new clothes sitting on the bed.
Hollywood said they been delivered by a State Department flunkie, but that Nate had ordered the items himself.
For Emma, it was like receiving a bunch of birthday presents from her boyfriend. Her boyfriend. She loved the way that sounded in her head. She loved that he was so thoughtful in picking out clothing for her. There were three pairs of jeans, four sweaters in colors that complemented her hair and eyes, a pair of athletic shoes and one pair of dark brown leather hiking boots. In another bag was socks and hair products, and a makeup kit for brunettes, but it was the last bag that sent a flush to her cheeks. It was filled with the laciest, prettiest matching sets of bras and panties. Emma didn’t own such finery. She usually wore cotton bikinis and sports bras and was lucky if the colors matched. Even so, they were all so pretty and all of this must’ve cost a fortune. At the bottom of the lingerie bag was a small box wrapped in light blue paper tied with silky white ribbon. A card attached read, “Happy birthday, Emma. Yours, Nate.”
Her Nate. Grinning like an idiot, she held the card to her heart.
She tore into the box, unable to quell her excitement. Inside was a heart-shaped locket in white gold. It was engraved with intricate filigree and hung on a delicate chain. She couldn’t suppress the smile that planted itself on her face if she tried.
After choosing a red, sweetheart neckline sweater and a pair of jeans, she slid on the brown leather boots. How he knew she’d prefer hiking boots over the fashionable variety, she didn’t know, but it pleased her. Everything fit perfectly. Looking in the mirror, she put the necklace on and admired the completed ensemble. She was dressed head to toe in gifts from Nate. Her skin glowed with happiness and a giggle burst from her lips. She was looking forward to later. She was sure he’d picked out the lacy lingerie more as a gift to himself, and that thought caused warmth to spread throughout her body and settle low.
With one last glance in the mirror, she left the bedroom and found Eastwood and Skyscraper in the living room playing cards.
They looked up when she walked in.
“Good morning, Emma,” Eastwood said, noticing her outfit. “I see you got your goodies.”
“I did,” she grinned. “How do I look?” She struck a pose.
Skyscraper chuckled. “Girl, you know you look good.”
“Well, I had a little help. Can’t believe Nate knows so much about women’s clothes. And he picked out my kind of footwear.” She looked down at her boots.
“Yeah, but I’m sure he was thinking more about undressing you,” Eastwood smirked, tossing a card down onto the table. “One, dealer.”
“Why you gotta be so crass, man?” said Skyscraper, dealing out a card and sliding it across the table. “Ignore him, Emma. He doesn’t get to be around ladies often, doesn’t know how to act.”
“Aw, I didn’t mean anything. Emma knows that. Look at her,” he said, glancing her way. “She’s a smitten kitten, aren’t ya?”
Emma laughed. “I think Marcus is right. Maybe we can work on your social graces later. Who’s up for a short walk?”
The guys looked at her. “In the middle of the game? I’m up by ten dollars here? Plus, until Nate gets back, we need to stay inside. We haven’t reconned the neighborhood yet this morning. Until we know it’s safe, no going out for you.”
Emma’s mood sank a little. She looked out the window, sighing. “Okay.”
The men resumed their game, oblivious of her presence. Emma went to the kitchen for coffee and breakfast. As she stared out the window above the sink, a low ‘mew’ interrupted her thoughts. She leaned over the sink, scanning the side yard. On the ledge outside was a tiny orange kitten.
“Oh my goodness, where’d you come from?”
“Mew. Mew,” it answered, pawing the window.
“Oh, sweet baby.” She walked to the sliding glass door and paused. She knew she shouldn’t go out alone. Emma leaned back and looked into the living room. The guys were dealing out a new hand and she didn’t want to disturb them. It was just the side yard. No reason why she couldn’t take five steps out, pick up the kitten, and be right back before they even knew it. She slid the door open and poked her head out. Looking left and right to check and make sure the coast was clear, she dashed out to get the kitty.
Nate was in a foul mood. His meeting with the general and State Department officials had not gone well. He’d made an assumption based on very little information and he’d been wrong.
“We identified all the deceased in the pictures your team provided from the mission in Prague,” said the woman to his left.
Natalie Greenblatt was an ex-Marine intelligence officer now working for the SD. Her specialty was identifying and cataloging terrorists. Her work helped thwart many terrorist attacks before they had a chance to get off the ground.
The general glared at her. “Get on with it, Natalie.”
She pursed her lips, but continued, looking at Nate. “One of the men you killed was Tariq al-Waleed,” Nate tensed, waiting for her to finish, “Mohammed al-Waleed’s younger brother.”
He sat back in his chair regarding the three people in the room. Next to Natalie was the aid to the Secretary of State, Adam Jones, an aspiring prick with a stick up his ass. Nate could smell the ambition rolling off him in nauseating waves. He and Jones had butted heads several times before. Why would now be any different, he thought.
“So?”
“Goddammit, Captain!” the general bellowed. “Don’t you get it yet? Waleed isn’t after the journalist, he’s after you! She’s just in the way and as far as he’s concerned, an expendable knife to drive into your gut. Now how the hell did this bastard manage to track you to Lon
don, that’s what I want to know because you assured me you were not followed?”
Jones smirked, watching Nate. “Yes, Captain, just what protocol did you break to lead a terrorist to a private American citizen?”
Nate bit his tongue. More than anything, he wanted to reach across the table and punch Jones in his smug face, but he couldn’t. In the presence of General Davis, he had to control himself. Plus, there was a lady present. As he pondered just how al-Waleed could’ve possibly tracked them, Natalie’s cell phone rang. She glanced at the screen, prepared to hit IGNORE, but the number displayed stopped her.
“Sorry, sir,” she looked at the general, “but I should answer this.” She got up and walked to the corner. “Greenblatt here. What’ve you got?”
The general grunted. “Someone’s head’s gonna roll for this one, Captain. I’m not taking this beating alone. We have a goddamn terrorist hunting an American citizen, damned near had her, all because someone blew your cover. We were able to keep it quiet, but he’s not finished, and I guaran-damn-tee you when he strikes again, I will be kicking ass and taking names!”
“General, you need to hear this,’ Natalie interrupted. She put her phone on speaker, setting it down on the table. “Go ahead. We can all hear you now.”
“General Davis, I bet you’re fit to be tied but I have some news that will make it a bit better.”
Recognizing the voice, the general barked, “Tex, you sonofabitch. You damn-well better have found that scumbag because that’s the only thing that’s going to make this right.”
“Nate? You there?” Tex asked.
“I’m here, buddy.”
“Good, because it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t fuck up.”
“Say again?” the General demanded.
“It wasn’t Nate or his men. There’s a mole, sir. A traitorous little fuck who happened to know about the snatch-and-grab in Prague. His name is Jamal Almasi and he’s an asset for the French government. Someone in their own camp allowed Almasi too much access to information. He’s their contact within Black Jihad. I’d say either al-Waleed found out Almasi’s a double agent or the little shit has been playing both sides against the middle the entire time. Either way, it wasn’t Nate or his team. They were given up by insider French intelligence—”
Rescuing Emma (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) Page 9