the intelligence community the wiser until it was all over.
This time, when their gazes met, for the space of a heartbeat, she couldn’t look away.
Taking a deep breath, she bit back questions she didn’t want answers to and instead pointed out a sign on the corner ahead, advertising a discount drugstore.
“I need to stop at that store.”
Sean shot her a look that plainly said he thought she’d lost it. “I know you like to shop, but your timing sucks.”
She nearly smiled. Nearly. “Trust me, this is a necessity. But it doesn’t have to be that one,” she said as they drove past. “Any chemist’s shop will be fine.”
A quick stop at the first druggist on the way out of town, and she had what she needed. Climbing back into the midget-size car, she buckled up and dropped her small bag on the floor. “I’m good.”
The stark expression on Sean’s face made her catch her breath. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“I just got off the phone with Corbett. He already knew he’d lost a man.”
Natalie bowed her head. In the undercover community, the death of a fellow operative was treated the same way it was by firefighters and policemen when one of their own died—with respect and sorrow.
“Did you convey to him my condolences?”
“Yes. He was on his way to talk to the family.”
She winced. “That’s one duty I wouldn’t want.”
“No one would. But as head of the agency, Corbett takes his responsibilities seriously.”
As if she didn’t know. Her own father couldn’t speak highly enough of the man. When her father had lost his legs in an explosion while working undercover, Corbett had helped him find the best surgeons, paid for a wheelchair and paid to renovate his home, even knowing he’d have to retire. The two men still talked regularly. Their stories about the life of a secret agent were why she’d gotten into the business in the first place, though in her bid for some sort of independence, she’d chosen to work for the government rather than the Lazlo Group.
“I’m assuming Corbett had his own copy of the code.”
“Of course. He’s working on another way to get it to us, along with a computer.”
She nodded. “Perfect.”
“Yeah. But still, we need some help. What about your resources? Can you access any of them?”
She stared. “Resources? You mean like SIS?”
“Exactly.”
“No.” She hoped the single word would shut him down. “I’m on leave. Administrative, due to the trauma of losing my entire team. As far as they know, I’m recuperating on the French Riviera.”
She waited for his questions, but apparently he had none. The sky had grown darker and it wouldn’t be long before the inky night became complete. Suddenly exhausted, she yawned.
Noticing that in the dim light from the dashboard, Sean smiled. Again, she felt the beauty of that smile like a punch in the stomach. “Stop it,” she said crossly. “It’s been a long day.”
“We’ll find a place to stop for the night.”
“Great.”
Parking in the back drive of the first B and B they came to, Sean went inside and secured them a room. When he emerged, he looked grim.
“I rented one room.”
“Why?”
“Security reasons.”
Too tired to argue, Natalie simply nodded.
Opening her door for her, he helped her out. Natalie allowed this, telling herself his touch didn’t feel good, not at all. The shiver that ran down her spine was due to the chilly air, nothing more.
“Wait.” She dug into her knapsack and retrieved the bandana Auggie had given her. This she placed over her head, tying it under her chin. “Camouflage,” she said. “Best I can do at the moment.”
Sean raised a brow but didn’t comment.
They walked into the brightly lit sitting room, neither of them speaking, staring straight ahead. The tension between them seemed palpable—almost unbearable, like the electricity in the air right before a thunderstorm. Natalie had to grit her teeth to keep herself pleasantly smiling.
Their hostess, a plump, bespectacled woman with a shock of bright orange hair, led them to the rear of the house. “You two even have your own bath,” she exclaimed. “All of the rooms upstairs have to share the big one at the end of the hall.”
Once they reached the room, she handed them a folded paper listing breakfast options and left them alone.
Natalie eyed the double bed with dismay. “I’m guessing she didn’t have a room with a king? Or even a queen-size bed?”
“I’m sorry,” Sean said, sounding anything but. “I can sleep in the chair if you’d like.”
Eyeing his walking cast, Natalie tried not to think about how badly she wanted to touch him, to run her hands over his once-beloved skin while breathing in his never-forgotten scent, to feel him move inside her again. “I’ll sleep in the chair. Since you’re driving, you’ll need your rest more than I.”
He narrowed his eyes. Once, he’d been able to read her thoughts, her desires. Or at least it had seemed that way to her. Once. No longer.
They’d been so happy. Or, she amended, she had. Obviously, Sean had felt differently. She’d never understand how he could do such a thing to the woman he supposedly loved.
“I’ll sleep in the chair,” she repeated, in case he wanted to argue. “But first, I need your help with this.” Opening the paper bag from the drugstore, she removed her purchases. “I’m going to cut and color my hair.”
For a moment, he froze, reminding her how he loved her hair, short or long. After lovemaking he’d always run his fingers through it.
Ruthlessly, she shut down the memories. “I know it’s short, but I’ve got to make it shorter. I can’t be recognized again. It’s compromising our mission.”
A trained spy, Sean understood. She could tell from the set of his chin that he didn’t like it, but he knew the reasons why changing her appearance was necessary.
The way he studied her sent shivers down her spine. Finally, he nodded. “Unfortunately, you’re right. What do I need to do?”
“Let me wet my head in the lavatory sink.” As soon as she’d accomplished that, she combed through her already short locks and returned to the bedroom. “Now I’m ready.”
“I’m not.” He didn’t sound as if he were joking.
Ignoring
