by Donna Grant
“Our way into the gala is confirmed, as is our hotel room.” He checked another email to find that Callie had sent over the hotel floor plans.
Natalie leaned over and saw them. She sat back with a laugh. “This should keep you entertained for hours.”
“I can’t help it. I love figuring this stuff out.” Not to mention, it was keeping Natalie safe.
Six hours later, they were headed back to Dallas. Though it was hastily planned, everything was in order. But he knew better than most that things could go sideways at any second.
He and Natalie kept an easy conversation on the ride to the city while occasionally going over details of the night. The closer they got to Dallas, the more nervous she appeared. And she had every right to be.
When they pulled up at the Hilton, he walked her to their room and then left her to get ready. Since the Russians were everywhere, and Natalie couldn’t leave to shop, he had the shopping come to her.
All the while, Owen was going to scope out the Ritz for himself. Besides, he needed to see what security was like before they arrived.
* * *
There was no time to think over her emotions about Owen now that she was in Dallas. And a part of Natalie was thankful for that. It was too much to take in when she’d fought so hard to keep him away.
He’d been gone hours, but she’d expected that. She stared at herself in the full-length mirror and smoothed her hands down the black dress that fit to perfection.
The sleeveless gown hit her mid-thigh with a small two-inch slit showing more of her left leg. The dress plunged low, but delicate black lace covered her chest and rose up to her neck.
Her long hair was pulled back in an array of twists with just enough wisps of hair about her neck to look messy. She was finishing off her look with a pair of diamond stud earrings when the hotel door opened and Owen strode in.
He came to an immediate halt, his gaze traveling up and down her twice. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life.”
“Thank you.” She couldn’t have been more pleased by his reaction. She may have had to dress for the gala, but she wanted to impress him.
“The security is as tight as expected. It’s going to be dangerous,” he warned.
“You’ll be beside me this time, right? Not just in my ear?”
He came to stand before her and pulled her against him. “Beside you.”
“Then we can do this. You’d better get dressed,” she said and nodded to where his tux hung, waiting.
With a wink, he walked away. She followed him to the bedroom and stood in the doorway.
“I found a place we can stash Dvorak as we have our little chat,” Owen said.
She raised her brows. “Really? That’s good. Have you figured out how we’ll get him there?”
He paused, looking up at her from buttoning his shirt. “I’m loath to say it, but you.”
“He does want me dead. But why wouldn’t he just send his men?”
“You’ll promise to give him something he wants.”
She chuckled as she realized the plan. “The bioweapon.”
“Exactly. Once we’re alone with him, we’ll do what we must to get information.”
She grabbed his tux jacket and held it out for him to slip his arms into the sleeves. Then she smoothed her hands along his shoulders once the jacket was in place. “Ready?”
“Are you?”
“I wish I had a weapon.”
He nodded in understanding. “They’ll be checking.”
She glanced at the clock. It was time. Owen thought it wise for them to arrive well before Dvorak to get the lay of the land—and hope no one spotted either of them.
Owen threaded his fingers with hers. Then they walked from the room. In two blocks, they arrived at the Ritz. Owen handed the security guards their invitations.
With a nod, another guard motioned them through metal detectors. And then they were inside the gala with the upper crust of Dallas society in attendance.
She grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter while they walked the perimeter, pretending to look at the exhibits for the next twenty minutes.
“I’ve counted six guards in tuxes while the others are in the customary black suits,” Owen said.
She nodded to passing couples. “I spotted one holding some kind of device in his hand.”
“A jammer. There won’t be any cell phones working.”
Which meant there was no calling for help. She and Owen really were on their own. She searched for anyone she might know from the embassy. So far, luck was on her side.
Owen led her up the stairs. She was grateful to have a hold of his arm, because with every Russian guard they passed, she expected one to reach out and grab her. It was Owen’s reassuring strength beneath her hand that kept her steady.
They halted near the railing at a semi-secluded spot overlooking the floor below. She leaned close to Owen, a smile in place.
“So far, so good,” he murmured.
“Have you been in situations like this?”
He glanced at her, a wealth of meaning in his chocolate gaze. “Something similar, but I didn’t have such precious cargo to look after.”
Two days ago, she would’ve waved away his words. Now, she couldn’t. She ran her fingers through his deep brown locks at his temple. Just as she started to speak, there was a murmur that went through the continually growing crowd.
“I think Dvorak has arrived,” Owen said.
She briefly closed her eyes. This was it. The time of no return had arrived. This was for Owen, Orrin, and the others.
Not just because they’d saved her from the killers. But because they were family.
People milled around them, wanting to get a look at Dvorak as he strolled into the gala with a gorgeous woman on each arm. He smiled and waved, enjoying the attention.
Someone bumped into Natalie in an attempt to get to the railing. Instantly, Owen navigated them out of the crowd. She drained the champagne to help steady her nerves.
Owen took the empty glass without a word and handed it to a waiter. His hand remained on her back, comforting and warm. He leaned in close, his mouth near her ear. “Dance with me.”
His words were so unexpected that she swung her head to him. It was that crooked smile of his, the one that always made her heart skip a beat that said her reaction was just what he wanted.
“Yes,” she replied breathlessly.
The lights were dimmed except for the spotlights on the exhibits, as the music grew louder. Together, they strolled down the stairs to where other couples already danced.
Owen led her to the floor. And then she was in his arms, moving slowly with the music.
“My God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered.
He gave James Bond a run for his money in a tux. And out of it. She had never felt so special as she did in that moment, in his arms. “I’ve never seen you look more handsome.”
“I want you.”
She let her lids fall shut as her blood heated. “Don’t tempt me.”
He leaned close so his lips brushed her ear. “Why not? There are plenty of dark corners.”
It was difficult for her to remember where they were as she imagined what he would do to her in those dark corners.
“I can hear your breathing,” he said huskily. “My God, what you do to me.”
She gasped when he brought her close and she could feel his arousal.
“Yes,” he said. “I’m hard for you.”
How was she supposed to think with him saying such things? He was seducing her. She’d known it last night. And she hadn’t fought it. Perhaps she was tired of fighting it. Why not give in? Why not allow herself to let someone close again?
He pulled her closer so that their cheeks were pressed together. He then whispered, “You sparkle even in the dark.”
She savored the moment. The seductive music, their bodies swaying, Owen’s arms holding her firmly, and his nearness. It was enchantin
g, entrancing.
It was perfection.
“In my worst moments,” he said, “when I was pinned down in some Godforsaken country with all the odds stacked against me coming out alive, I always thought of you. No matter what you might believe, know that you were always on my mind.”
Her heart warmed at his words. It gave her the courage to do the same. “I compared every man to you. Even in my marriage. No one has ever come close to rivaling you. Ever.”
He pulled back so she had no choice but to meet his dark gaze. The dimmed room made it difficult for her to see him clearly. He moved their joined hands between them and touched her cheek with a finger.
“I haven’t had a relationship since you.”
Her eyes widened in shock. “Why?”
“Because no one was you.”
The song came to an end, but they didn’t stop moving. Soon another song began to play.
“I want you. Not just tonight or while I’m here. I want you forever.”
Forever. How long had she dreamed of hearing those words from him? At one time, she would’ve moved Heaven and Earth to hear them.
And now? She wasn’t sure what to think or feel. She wasn’t nearly as confused about Owen as she had been before.
“Don’t say anything,” Owen urged. “I want you to be happy. But know this. I don’t give up when I want something.”
And he wanted her. A thrill went through her.
She looked down at his lips, a mouth that she wanted to lean up to and kiss. Everything she ever wanted was being offered.
His hand splayed on her back, pulling her hips against him. “You were made for me,” he said. “You were always meant to be mine.”
Second chances. People rarely got them, and it had practically fallen in her lap. Ignoring it would be foolish, but she was scared. Her heart had been trampled enough.
“You said you didn’t want me in the military life,” she said.
Owen gave a shake of his head. “I said a lot of stupid things in an effort to keep you out of this very situation. It’s made me realize what an idiot I’ve been. I want to spend my days with you.”
“Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because you can’t run away.”
Did he really think she would? She placed a soft kiss on his lips. “We need to talk about this—”
“But not here,” Owen finished, his voice shifting deeper. “We’ve been spotted.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Owen didn’t take his eyes off the two Russian guards who were eyeing them. It was time for them to put their plan into action.
“Our fun is up, Nat.”
She released a small sigh. “Let’s get this over with.”
He turned them until he spotted their target. “Dvorak is to your right and surrounded by women doing very outrageous things to get his attention.”
“Stupid women,” she grumbled.
He hid his smile. “Get him out to the hallway, and I’ll do the rest.”
Natalie gave him another kiss before they walked from the dance floor. He led her directly in front of Dvorak, who frowned as they passed.
Owen situated them behind a large group of people to hide them from the guards. “It’s all up to you.”
“We’re here. We’re going to do this.” Natalie squared her shoulders before walking away.
He wanted to call her back, to toss her over his shoulder and leave. So much could go wrong, and they had no backup. He’d never second-guessed himself before. Frankly, he didn’t like it.
But that’s what Natalie did to him.
He moved to watch his woman. Men ogled her. And why wouldn’t they? The sleeveless black dress that clung to her exceptional curves made his mouth water. The dress dipped low enough to teasingly show off her breasts that were covered with black lace, which rose to encase the slim column of her neck. The short skirt showed off her gorgeous legs. She was a sight to behold.
Luck was on their side when the two guards who had been watching them had their attentions diverted by someone else. Natalie saw it as well and made her move.
Owen shifted closer to her because Dvorak had two bodyguards standing just feet away. The two straightened when Natalie stopped in front of Dvorak.
The consulate halted talking and simply stared at her. She moved closer to whisper in his ear. At that moment, Owen shoved a man into one of the bodyguards. The second one he kicked in the side of the knee, taking him down.
In all the commotion, no one saw Dvorak leave with Natalie but him. He kept his eyes on the other guards and managed to slip out after Natalie.
“Where is it?” Dvorak demanded.
She motioned with her hand, leading him. “This way.”
Owen came up behind Dvorak and knocked him on the back of the head so he was out cold. Then he hurriedly threw Dvorak over his shoulder as Natalie took off her heels and ran down the hall to the room.
As soon as he was inside, Natalie shut and locked the door. Owen dumped Dvorak in the chair and tied his wrists behind the backrest.
“Stay behind him. I don’t want him to know you’re here,” Owen told her.
Natalie did as he requested, setting her shoes down beside her. “Do you think he’ll talk?”
“We’ve got to make him. We don’t have much time either. His guards will be looking for him.”
“Perhaps you shouldn’t have knocked him out,” she said with a grin.
He slapped Dvorak twice—hard. Dvorak gave a shake of his head and blinked open his eyes. The consulate glared at Owen before he smirked.
“For a man held captive, you’re awfully confident,” Owen said.
“You will pay for this,” Dvorak stated testily.
“I honestly don’t care.”
“Do you know who I am? I am an ambassador from Russia!”
He studied Dvorak as he spoke. “We know exactly who you are. Despite retiring from the Russian military, you still seem to have quite a hand in maneuvering men—especially here in the States.”
“I know nothing of what you speak,” Egor replied. His disdain faded to that of tediousness. “My men will be looking for me.”
“They won’t find you until I want them to.” Owen pulled up another chair before Dvorak. He sat, and then said, “Where is Orrin Loughman?”
“I do not know that name.” It was the subtle tightening of Dvorak’s mouth that gave away the lie.
Owen nodded as he leaned forward and placed his forearms on his knees. “You have to say that, but I know you’re lying. You can leave here just as you are, or you can hold out and get the beating of your life.”
Dvorak began to laugh, his cocky smile large. “I have diplomatic immunity. You cannot touch me.”
“I know just where to hit that will leave no evidence. I was trained to bring the hardiest to their knees, Ambassador. And I’ve got all the time in the world.”
“You will get nothing from me.” Dvorak spat after delivering that statement. “The ranch will be gone when you return.”
Owen stood slowly and shoved back the chair with his foot. “You just confirmed you’re commanding the Russians in Texas.”
“In the entire US,” Dvorak declared triumphantly. “If something happens to me, there is another ready to take my place. The instant I go missing, he steps in.”
“Then they won’t care if you’re dead.”
That caused Dvorak to pause, the truth sinking in. “They will come for me.”
Owen chuckled. “You don’t sound quite so confident. Tell me, Ambassador, did you get a thrill out of killing my aunt and uncle?”
Dvorak lifted his chin, his smile cold. “Yes.”
Owen relished the sound of Dvorak’s grunt of pain when he landed the first hit.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Sklad
Orrin woke on a soft bed, but kept his eyes closed. Something wasn’t right. The last thing he remembered was … Melanie. His stomach clutched painfully. Melanie. His Melanie had be
en there, in his arms.
Angel or ghost, he’d spoken to her. It made his eyes burn with unshed tears, but that was a weakness he could ill afford others to see.
“Will he live?”
Anger swarmed him at the sound of Yuri’s voice.
There was movement next to him, and then a feminine voice with an American accent said, “He should. His fever is gone. I set his shoulder back in place, but I left the break in his wrist, per your instructions.”
“Good,” Yuri said. “You may go.”
The sound of quick footsteps soon faded. Orrin remained still. He didn’t want Yuri to know he was awake. Not yet, at least.
“You thought you could escape the torture I have.” Yuri laughed. “I will not let that happen. I have so much more planned, stariy droog.”
Yuri’s large hand rested upon his broken wrist. Orrin knew what was coming. It was years of training that kept his breathing even and his face impassive—even when Yuri squeezed.
He thought of Melanie, he thought of his sons. He imagined what his boys were doing to keep the bioweapon safe and out of everyone’s hands.
“So you are still asleep,” Yuri said and released his grip. “Too bad.”
He counted to a hundred after Yuri left to allow the pain to subside. Only then did he crack open an eye. He was no longer in the tiny, damp cell. He was still in the same compound if the peeling paint and yellow lights were any indication.
He held on to the pain of his arm. It was all he had. If it would keep him conscious and prepared for whatever Yuri had in store for him next, then he welcomed it.
Slowly, he moved the fingers on his good arm before attempting it with his broken one.
“You’re going to cause yourself more pain.”
His gaze jerked to the doorway where he found a woman. Her dark red hair was parted to one side and fell straight to brush the tops of her shoulders.
She glanced at the floor before entering the room and checking the IV in his arm. “You nearly died,” she stated in a clipped tone.
“You should’ve let me.”
Her eyes swung to him. They were a soft gray, but held all the wariness of someone being forced.
She returned to examining the IV. After a minute she said, “I didn’t have a choice.”