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by HelenKay Dimon


  “And you would.” Her hand dipped into his hair and she nuzzled his chin with her nose. “Go after Rick, I mean.”

  “No one hurts Brandon.” That was a fucking vow.

  She lowered her head until it fit in the crook of his neck. “No wonder the idea of Rick sending someone here made you hostile.”

  “Understatement.”

  “Why would he get involved in this?” She touched his knuckles to her lips.

  “I know you’re thinking sabotage, but no.” His lips brushed over her hair. He took a second to inhale, breathing in that scent he now associated with her. The one that stomped all over his self-control. “More than likely he thinks he’s helping. He does this work and is trying to put the power of his business between us and the person at the CIA who is determined to cause trouble for you.”

  She groaned. “Please don’t try to make your brother out to be the good guy after telling me what he did to you.”

  The automatic acceptance. He wondered if she even knew she did it. She liked to fight with him about details, but they generally agreed with each other on most things. And her trust in him after such a short time, knowing her past and who she was, humbled him.

  “That’s just the thing, he was. For a long time.” Rick had helped Gabe raise Brandon. Stepped in when work intruded for Gabe or Army travel pulled them apart. That’s what made the breach of loyalty such a deathblow. “He got this idea in his head, and now he’s pushing it. I blame the injury. It’s as if it turned him around and has him going back over every mistake in his life and trying to set them right.”

  She rubbed her fingers over his chin. Back and forth over the stubble and through his beard. “Don’t get pissed off here, but is there a chance he is Brandon’s dad?”

  He sensed the question before she asked it. He would have been disappointed if she didn’t raise the issue, not with her curiosity and tendency to solve problems. “They were having sex back then, so yes. Biologically.”

  “Okay, God. This just gets worse.”

  Gabe shifted, because suddenly just lying there made him twitchy. He needed her to know how strongly he felt about this issue.

  He lifted his shoulders off the floor, and she inched up just far enough that her face hovered in front of his. “He’s my son, Natalie. I don’t give a shit who provided the sperm.”

  She didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Just stared at him, as if waiting for him to say something else, but he’d made his declaration. His point was that simple. Brandon was his son. Period.

  A sexy smile broke across her mouth. “You know, you may act like an asshole sometimes, but you’re actually a very good guy.”

  With that, the tension building inside him and the charged energy zipping through the room changed into something very hot and, if he was lucky, a little naughty. “Don’t tell people that. I’ll never get a protection job again.”

  She lowered her head and put her mouth by his ear. Licked the outer rim as she talked. “How about if I just whisper it?”

  She crashed through his defenses. Made him want things he hadn’t wanted in so long. He’d closed some parts of himself off. Enjoyed sex and moved on. Concentrated on Brandon and work and keeping them all moving forward. Then she walked into his life. At first all haughty and demanding, cool in a blue business suit as she fought off any hint of vulnerability underneath. Now, tough and sure, even as her world collapsed and her future darkened. She was the most competent woman he’d ever met . . . and the sexiest.

  “That works, but I bet I’d hear it better if you got on your hands and knees.” He drew his finger down her neck and under the band of her sweater collar. “Without the shirt.”

  She flattened a palm on either side of his head. Straddled his hips with her knees. “Yes, sir.”

  So fucking hot. “You’re going to say that a lot before we’re done.”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  THIRTEEN

  The next morning Natalie stood sipping her coffee while Gabe banged together the two pots they had as he made breakfast after a long night of bedroom activities. She gave him credit for trying. Gave him credit for a lot of things.

  She couldn’t imagine raising a child, only to have a sibling threaten to take it all away. It seemed incomprehensible. Also made her rethink her theory about Gabe abandoning his son. A guy who begged a woman to keep his baby, who worried about protecting him and keeping him close, would not just throw him away when he became inconvenient.

  And that reimagining scared her. The son piece provided her with a protection against him. It was the one fact that made Gabe less appealing. The one part that reminded her to keep vigilant and not be thrown off by his smooth words and those hands that drove her wild. If he truly was exactly who he seemed to be, the last of her shields would fall.

  She’d already shared parts of her past with him that she kept buried from everyone else. Those horrible moments she tried to forget and, in her most desperate times, pretended didn’t happen.

  Joining the CIA she’d been subjected to all kinds of questions and daylong lie detector testing. All those questions. The insinuations that she was holding back. She knew the game but did fear her inner thoughts gave her away. The CIA needed to know about her past and if she could be trusted. They did not need to know she was the one who used the knife that night. She repeated that refrain every time her name got chosen for random testing.

  The facts she’d hidden for so long were now out there. Gabe could turn around and use every sentence as a weapon, but she knew deep in her soul he wouldn’t. There was no escaping the truth. Something about him pulled at her and quietly shifted every rule she’d made for her life.

  Stay detached and tamp down her emotions. A good plan. One she followed for years only to have Gabe blow it apart in a matter of weeks.

  “Oatmeal?” Gabe’s deep voice cut through the cabin.

  She glanced over her shoulder and saw him shake a packet of instant chalky-tasting food at her. She had no idea how he managed to stand there in a thermal Henley and jeans and look so adorable. He could shoot, stalk, hide, cook and make her body tremble from the inside out. His skills crossed the spectrum, and as someone who benefitted she appreciated them all.

  “Sounds delicious.” She totally didn’t mean that but didn’t want to see his smile fall. But, really, the thrill of oatmeal had worn off on day two of being on the run.

  He winked at her. “Liar.”

  She glanced out the cabin’s front window then did a double take. There, at the edge of the trees, right before the open area of packed snow, stood a man. She could only tell that much from his build. Broad through the shoulders with a hood pulled tight against his face. High boots and a gun in his hand.

  He stared at the cabin and didn’t move. His presence could be random or just a matter of a local passing through. Then her gaze went back to the weapon. No, this wasn’t someone stopping by to say hello—at least she hoped they and this guy were not that unlucky.

  Shock grabbed her. Her body went numb, and the mug slipped from her hand. The metal clanged against the hard floor and hot coffee splashed up her leg.

  Before she could blink Gabe was at her side, guiding her away from the spill. He stepped in front of her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Someone breached the perimeter.” The alarms didn’t ring, which only highlighted the danger.

  Her mind blinked in and out. This couldn’t be the guy who watched before. That man would not be so stupid as to take the risk of closing in a second time. And to stand there? No, this person wanted to be noticed. Probably welcomed a fight.

  “Impossible.” Gabe stepped in front of her. A gun appeared out of nowhere. That lazy satisfied-from-sex expression disappeared, and he switched to protector mode.

  Not one to wait behind she grabbed her gun off the table and joined him by the window. “How did it happen?”

  “Fuck me.”

  That struck her as the right reaction. She just wasn’t sure wha
t it meant. “What?”

  “He’s not inside the perimeter.”

  She looked again. Maybe her eyes played tricks on her, but he seemed to have cleared the trees.

  “I can’t see . . .” Her voice trailed off as she took a good look at Gabe. Watched every muscle stiffen. He knew something, and it was not good. She’d bet money on that. “What is it?”

  “Rick.”

  That guy was a pain in the ass on every level. “Another one of his men?”

  “No, I mean actually Rick. He’s here.”

  The words rang in her head. She tried to make sense of why that would happen or how Gabe could know. She’d seen his brother’s photo. Finding intel on him proved tougher thanks to his black-ops work. He knew people who could bury his information and keep him off the grid to aid in his work. But she’d seen early ID photos.

  That’s what confused her now. With the hood and jacket she couldn’t even tell what color this guy’s hair was. “Do you recognize the coat or something?”

  Gabe checked his gun as he grumbled under his breath. “The cocky way he’s standing there.”

  “That’s not enough.” When Gabe didn’t answer, she tried again. “Right?”

  Could it be? She tended to study people, looking for identifying traits. With all her training even she couldn’t see through inches of down and make out a face intentionally covered. Certainly not from a distance of fifty plus feet away.

  “For better or worse, he’s my brother. I can pick him out of a crowd.” Gabe didn’t stick around and debate the point. Didn’t even put on a coat. He unlocked the door and opened it.

  A rush of cold air blew over her. White flakes danced on the air as a new round of flurries swirled. She reached out to grab his arm but missed. He moved fast and sure. Lunging steps took him to the small porch then down two steps. The cold didn’t affect him at all. He tightened the hold on his gun and fended off the wind with a shirt meant to layer under things.

  She started after him then stopped. Scrambled to find her boots. Shoving her feet in them, half turning her ankle as she tried to stomp her right foot in over the stiff material. Then she was off, trying to keep up.

  Gabe might be sure about their newest watcher’s identity but she wasn’t. Not yet. Until a lightbulb turned on for her, she planned to keep her gun close and be prepared to fire. If that guy—whoever he was—lifted his weapon, she would blow a hole through his hand. That would teach him to sneak up on people.

  She hit the snow and her boots sank up past her calves. She immediately regretted not grabbing her coat and thicker socks. The delay would have limited her time refereeing this showdown.

  Not that Gabe acted as if he needed any help. “Hey, wait.”

  He didn’t even spare her a glance. “Get back in the cabin.”

  No way was that happening.

  She kept making her way, ignoring the burning cold assailing her limbs. With each step the walking got harder, but she pushed on. Catching up proved tough, but that ceased being a problem when Gabe stopped ten feet away from their unwanted visitor and aimed a gun at the figure bundled in a jacket.

  This close she could see the man stood right on the edge of the safe side of the perimeter. She had no idea how Gabe had spied that from the distance to the cabin. Eyesight issues aside, she did understand how the protection barrier worked. Gabe said he’d set traps and warning sensors a certain number of feet apart, all around the cabin right where the wooded area broke open. The guy’s foot had to be near the line. Natalie half wished he’d touch it.

  “Gabe, no.” The man didn’t put the gun away, but he did reach for the string keeping his hood tight against his head and shoved it back on his shoulders. “It’s me.”

  Gabe didn’t lower his weapon. Kept it leveled right at his brother’s head. “I know.”

  So much for the concept of brotherly love. Not that she could blame Gabe. Not after what he’d shared.

  The informal ID proved correct. Natalie really didn’t need an updated photo to confirm this one. Rick and Gabe looked alike. Rick was a bit slimmer with more of a lean runner’s body. A narrower face and lighter hair, but the same stern expression and a familiar way of standing.

  She decided to try to slice through the suffocating tension. “Why are you here?”

  Rick finally looked at her. His gaze traveled over her then over Gabe. “We should go inside before you two freeze.”

  Not a bad suggestion, but she didn’t want him inside or anywhere near the place where she’d been staying with Gabe. Welcoming Rick felt like a betrayal even as her toes began to tingle.

  She tried a more tactful approach, though she had no idea why she bothered. If these two planned to kill each other, she’d stand back and watch . . . then jump in to save Gabe. They had reached that point. The one where she couldn’t stand to think of anything happening to him. Damn him.

  “If you step across that line you run the risk of—”

  Rick cut her off while his gaze traveled back to Gabe. “It’s a warning perimeter. You have weapons set up to fire at other spots, but not here.” The man had the nerve to smile. “I’d say someone taught you well, but since most of that came from me, I’ll refrain.”

  She made a mental note not to call Gabe a dick again. This guy was a dick. “How subtle of you.”

  “I have never been accused of that, sweetheart.”

  Make that a sexist dick. She started to wonder how Rick and Gabe came out of the same household. “Well, sweetheart, even without traps, Gabe and I still have guns.”

  “Gabe might be pissed, but he won’t kill me.”

  “I will.” She didn’t regret the comment. She meant it, and when she saw Gabe smile out of the corner of her eye, just for a second, there and then gone again, she relaxed. Rick might think he controlled the situation but he was dead wrong.

  With a heavy exhale, Rick tucked his gun behind him. “I came to check on the two of you.”

  For some reason that annoyed her. Everything this guy said had her wanting to punch something. “We’re fine. Now, leave.”

  Rick’s eyebrow lifted. “I see why you like her.”

  No, he didn’t get to engage in light banter. Didn’t get to joke with Gabe. Not on this topic or any other. Not while she was around. “You want to date me, too? Or maybe hitting on Gabe’s woman once was enough.”

  Gabe nodded. “Yeah, she knows.”

  Rage pulsed off Rick. His mouth fell into a flat line and tension almost had him puffing up. “What the fuck, Gabe? You won’t tell Brandon but you tell her. You sure work fast. Screw a woman for a few weeks and she comes running to your side.”

  Gabe took a warning step in Rick’s direction. “Her name is Natalie, and she is under my protection. One more wrong word and I will give in to the clawing inside me and wipe you off the earth.”

  The man just got more and more attractive. She decided to thank him for that later. After she let Rick know how little she thought of him. “But, really, keep being a condescending ass.”

  “It’s too cold to stand out here without the proper weather gear.” Rick kept falling back on that argument.

  The guy wasn’t wrong. Not about this. The cold seeped through her sweater and into her bones. Much more time out here and her teeth would start chattering. Her words would slur. With a lower than normal body temperature she’d always been susceptible to cold, and today she could not afford that weakness. “We can go back inside.”

  “I’m going to follow.”

  Maybe it would be faster to shoot him. She was starting to wonder. “You are such—”

  “Enough.” Gabe finally lowered his gun. He nodded toward the ground in front of Rick. “Take a giant step, about three feet and slightly to your left.”

  Rick scoffed. “That’s a bit dramatic.”

  “Teacher or not, you missed a trap.” Gabe swept an arm out to the side. “If you don’t believe me, step wherever you want.”

  Score one for the middle brother. “You
shouldn’t have told him.”

  Gabe kept talking. “We go inside and you have ten minutes to tell me why you’ve been sending men after us and what the CIA hopes to accomplish with this bullshit.”

  Before he finished Rick started shaking his head. “You know I can’t—”

  “That’s the only deal to make here, Rick.” Gabe shrugged. “My terms or you crawl home.”

  Rick looked from Gabe to her and back again. “Fine.”

  Part of her thought Gabe had let his brother off too easy. The other part understood the garbled it’s-confidential talk. She’d been trained in CIA-speak for years. Punishment for divulging details came swiftly and hard.

  Since Rick worked outside of the CIA, had his own company, the rules might be less strict, but he had to sign an oath. Had to make promises. Had to have a special clearance and pass through a bunch of crap before he could look at one file. His livelihood and those of the people who worked for him depended on him never showing his hand. On him being willing to take a bullet if that’s what it took.

  She tried to drum up some sympathy for the position Gabe put him in now. Tried and failed.

  She glanced at the cabin, and when she looked back again Rick had crossed the danger line. They all took off for cover. No one talked. The only sounds came from the sway of the trees and crunch of the ice on top of the snow. The thumps of their footsteps echoed around them. Their strides outpaced hers so she hurried to keep up. No way was she getting left behind by these two. By the time she got the door open she’d likely have a bloodbath on her hands.

  After making the trek and pounding their boots on the porch to knock off as much of the snow as possible, they walked inside. Gabe slammed the door behind them and turned on his brother. “Talk.”

  Rick’s gaze went to the coffeepot sitting on the burner then to Gabe’s hand. “Maybe you can lower your weapon.”

 

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