shaking, she got up and walked away, to the only place she could go, the small lavatory, leaving the rest of what he had to tell her trapped on his tongue.
Staring after her, he wondered if she’d ever understand. Or if she’d ever forgive.
And she didn’t even know the worst of it.
It took half an hour, but Natalie was reasonably certain she’d managed to hide all signs of her bout of weeping. Except for the red eyes, and she was banking on the dim lighting to hide that.
She’d halfheartedly hoped Sean had fallen asleep while she’d hidden in the bathroom, but when she opened the door he still waited, sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands.
Despite herself, her best intentions flew out the window. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” Straightening, he looked away. “Remember, there’s more I’ve got to tell you.”
The bed dipped as she sat down beside him. “You can do that later. I think I’ve had enough for one day.”
“But—”
“Seriously. Unless what you want to tell me will endanger my life if I don’t learn it, let it be for one more day. I can’t take any more today, okay?”
Finally, he nodded. The stark relief that flashed across his handsome face was painful to see. Especially since she felt the same—as if she’d dodged a bullet.
“Then let’s talk about something else.”
“What?”
“Anything,” she said. “You choose.”
“Tell me why you’re here, hiding from your own agency. Why you called Corbett and not SIS for help.”
“My entire team was slaughtered in SIS headquarters. Cut down in cold blood, without warning. Since SIS was breached once, I have no doubt it could be breached again. I don’t trust anyone there at the moment.”
“Breached?”
“We had a mole. Roland Millaflora. You might have heard of him.”
“But he was captured, right?”
“Yes. But I don’t know who he was working for, or worse, if he had help inside. So I’ve cut myself off from headquarters. As far as they know, I’m on the French Riviera.”
She yawned, then stood up and started to move away. “Let’s get some sleep. I have a feeling we’re going to need it.”
“Not yet.” His gaze darkened. “Come here, Nat.”
She opened her mouth and closed it. “Why?”
“Just come here.”
Suspicion had her frozen before she remembered he was a wounded man. Moving to his side, she reached for the water glass to refill it. “Do you want more water?”
He grabbed her arm, tugging her toward the bed. “No. I want you.”
Shocked, she stumbled and nearly fell. Righting herself, she perched on the edge of the bed, empty water glass still in hand. “You’re … you’re hurt, in pain.”
“So distract me.” Waiting, he watched her. “Come here.”
Trying to pretend the husky timbre of his voice didn’t affect her, she shook her head. If she moved, even one-tenth of an inch, she’d be all over him. Devouring him, as she’d wanted to do ever since he’d come back from the dead.
Not good.
Mouth dry, she tried to concentrate on something else. Like how badly she needed to file her nails. Or brush her hair. Except she couldn’t. Such a routine grooming shouldn’t become sensual, but with Sean in the room, even breathing aroused her.
So she kept still, unwilling to move and let him know how he affected her.
“Stop.” Pleased with her brisk tone, she shook her finger at him. “It’s almost morning. You need to try to rest. Thinking about sex won’t help you go to sleep.”
“I haven’t been with anyone else.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Why he felt compelled to share this information, she didn’t know. Unless he thought telling her would make her give in. She was glad he didn’t know how badly she wanted to give in. She supposed she ought to consider herself lucky he was injured.
“Your faithfulness—or lack of—doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does.” He sounded firm. “I took a vow, in a church. I swore before God and this green earth that there’d be only you.”
Impatient now, afraid to think about what his confession meant, she shifted on the bed. “You don’t have to lie. I know you. You’re a very sensual man. There’s no way you went so long without any … feminine attention.”
He didn’t answer, drawing her gaze to him as he’d no doubt known his silence would.
Despite the hell he’d just gone through, he looked damn good. The devil himself couldn’t have looked better. His rugged features had gone serious, watching her in that intense way he had, his eyes dark and full of secrets. His black hair gleamed in the artificial light, one lock falling forward onto his brow. In times past, she’d always brushed that wayward strand back, and he’d grabbed her wrist and kissed her hand.
She shivered, telling herself to look away yet totally unable to.
Sean.
He waited, powerful arms relaxed, his hands dark against the pale blanket, and let her look at him. No doubt, she thought with irritation, he wanted her to remember the sensual pleasures they’d once shared. He wanted to tempt her with more than an apple, even knowing that if she touched him now, she’d be giving up what was left of her soul.
She couldn’t, wouldn’t let that happen. No matter how badly she wanted him, this dark, fallen angel who’d once belonged to her.
The woman who’d loved him had died when she’d thought he’d died. Just because he’d come back to life didn’t mean she could.
“Two years, Sean. It’s been two years. You pretended to be dead, for heaven’s sake! Don’t you dare try to seduce me now.”
“Natalie, I—”
“No.” She shifted uncomfortably. “And you shouldn’t even be thinking that way. You’re wounded.”
“Only my leg and foot. The rest of me is fine.”
His quip elicited no smile from her. “Stop.”
“Please,” he said. That one word nearly undid her, because the Sean McGregor she’d known had never had to ask her for anything. She’d given of herself
