could barely believe her luck. It was perfect. Wide seats in groups of four—two each facing each other—with a table in the middle. They would be much more comfortable than the cramped constraints of a bus. Plus large windows where she’d be able to see as they crossed the country. There were three groups of seats, and Natalie’s ticket was for one of the empty groups. Even better. Maybe no one else would get on.
There were only three other passengers. Across the aisle was an older woman reading a book and a younger man in a hoodie with headphones on sitting across from her. Natalie shifted so she could see the seats behind her.
Her breath caught in her throat at the man sitting in the seat. He looked up from the papers and computer on the table in front of him to glance out the window as a whistle blew, giving Natalie a view of his carved jaw and strong chin. His brown hair was thick and full, a little messy like he’d been running his fingers through it.
She knew she was staring but couldn’t quite help herself. There was a ruggedness about his face that drew her. He looked away from the window, catching her ogling, his green eyes pinning hers. Before she could look away with embarrassment, he nodded slightly, then resumed the reading of his papers.
At that moment the train gave a little jerk as it started forward. Natalie took her seat and watched out the window as she left Santa Barbara behind.
No one knew she was here. No one knew where she was going.
Then why did she feel like she was in more danger than ever?
Lillian Muir deserved an Oscar. Ren had watched as the woman quite deftly handled George even though Natalie had beat her to the bus station by a couple of minutes. If Lillian hadn’t been able to get George out of the office she would’ve never been able to lie to Natalie about all the buses and get her on this train.
Score one for Omega Sector. And given how Lillian Muir didn’t usually do undercover—she was a kick-ass SWAT team member who could kill any given person a dozen different ways with her tiny bare hands—she truly had been amazing. The perfect blend of friendly and business that had sold Natalie on this venture.
A venture that wouldn’t have even been an option without the funding of Joe Matarazzo, another member of Omega Sector who also happened to be a multimillionaire. Joe wanted Freihof caught and behind bars so he and his pregnant wife could live in peace without worrying that they were next in line for a madman to attack. Funding this little field trip had been a no-brainer for Joe.
They’d been on the train nearly thirty-six hours. Natalie had kept to herself all of that time, mostly just staring out the window. The other two people in the car were both Omega personnel. The older woman, Madeline, was a retired agent who now worked as an analyst. The younger guy was Philip Carnell, not Ren’s first choice, but he was someone who wanted Freihof off the streets pretty badly after getting stabbed a few weeks ago by one of the villain’s cronies.
Natalie hadn’t spoken to either of them. And, after looking at Ren that one time as the train left Santa Barbara, hadn’t interacted with him, either. Not that he’d expected her to be the life of the party.
The train had stopped once at its scheduled point, east of Las Vegas. Everyone had gotten out and bought food and any supplies they needed. Agents had been following Natalie discreetly in case she bolted, but she’d actually been the first one back on the train.
They hadn’t gotten very far before Philip, still dressed in a hoodie, swung casually across the aisle and sat right next to Natalie. Ren leaned a little toward them so he could see what was happening more clearly. She had already stiffened and was leaning away from Philip, not looking at him at all.
Exactly what they had been hoping for when they’d come up with the plan of Philip turning on the obnoxious.
“Hey, you want some of my sandwich?” He was barely understandable over his chewing.
“No, thank you.” Natalie didn’t look away from the window. “I bought food at the stop.”
Philip just leaned in closer and waved the sub sandwich in front of her face. “Are you sure? It’s really good.”
“No, I just want to be left alone.”
“Aw, c’mon,” Philip whined, slurring his words a little as though he’d been drinking. “It’s getting dark. There’s nothing to look at out the window. Why don’t you talk to me instead? I’m tired of sitting by that old lady. Tell me a little about yourself.”
Ren could see Natalie growing stiffer with every word. She didn’t respond to Philip, just kept staring out the window.
“All I want to do is chat,” he continued. “We’ve got a long way to Saint Louis. Just talk to me.”
She finally glanced at him before immediately moving her gaze back to the window. “I’m not interested in talking. I just want to be left alone.”
“Really?” Philip sneered. “You think you’re too good to talk to me, is that it? Well, that’s okay, I can just stay here and get close to you. How about that?”
Natalie’s spine was ramrod straight as Philip drew closer. She was all but pressed up against the window, but Ren caught a glimpse of one little fist tightening into a ball. He wondered what she would do if he wasn’t about to intervene for the sake of the mission. He almost wanted to find out.
“Just leave me alone.”
“I’m not talking about anything crazy, baby, unless you’re interested in a little alone time in the bathroom or something like that.” Philip leaned even closer.
That was Ren’s cue.
He stood and crossed over to their seats. “Look, I think the lady has made it pretty clear that she doesn’t want to talk to you.”
Natalie peeked up at him, concern flashing in her blue eyes. Philip just kept staring at her. “Step back, man. This has nothing to do with you.”
“Considering how small this train car is and that you’re a little drunk and pretty loud, I think it does have to do with me.”
Philip snickered. “Fine. We’ll be quiet. Won’t we, sweetheart?”
He reached toward Natalie and she flinched. Ren found it took much less acting than he’d thought to reach over and grab Philip’s wrist and yank it backward away from her.
“Dude!”
Without effort, Ren bent Philip’s arm into a position that wouldn’t take more than a flick of his wrist to break it. “I’m pretty sure the lady doesn’t want you to touch her.” Color had leached from her face. “Is that right, ma’am?”
She nodded.
Ren released Philip’s arm, and slapped him on the shoulder almost good-naturedly. “Why don’t we just get one of the train officials to come back here and sort out the seating arrangement?”
If possible, Natalie’s face lost even more color. “No, that’s not necessary. I’m just not interested in talking to anyone.”
