Mission: Marriage. Karen Whiddon

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shook his head, as though he didn’t completely agree. “What a frigging mess.”

      The room looked like a jacked-up demon on meth had torn through it. Natalie couldn’t even begin to envision explaining this to the inn management. Hopefully, they would just assume it was a break-in and since their room was near the exit, it had been the easiest to target.

      “I know.” Pacing from one end of the room to the other, Natalie looked for any sign to indicate who the culprit was. “They must have been pretty pissed off when they didn’t find it.”

      “Obviously.”

      She fingered the tiny flash drive. “Of course they didn’t realize this baby stays with me everywhere I go.”

      The next morning, Natalie tried to avoid looking at Sean, as though he could read in her eyes the dreams that had tormented her in the darkest part of the night. Pleasant dreams, indeed.

      She’d known she wanted him, of course. But she wasn’t in the habit of lying to herself, and what she hadn’t realized was exactly how much she wanted him. Like a craving, an addiction, her desire for him never left her.

      Worse, she knew why. Making love was exactly that to her—two people, madly in love, celebrating with their bodies. Sean had been her one and only and she’d come to him untouched, a virgin.

      She was still untouched, by choice. If she couldn’t love someone else as much as she’d loved Sean, she didn’t think she would ever know another’s body either.

      Sex to her was not a recreational pastime, a fleeting pleasure. Sex to her was akin to the deepest baring of the soul.

      In the harsh light of the morning, she had to look herself in the mirror and ask herself a question. Did she want to go the rest of her life knowing Sean was alive, out there in the world without her, and imagine him wrapped in another woman’s arms?

      She’d been given a second chance, another opportunity to be with the only man she had ever loved.

      But could she ever forget and forgive him for what he’d done?

      She didn’t think she could.

      Waking up and seeing Natalie in the morning was another form of torture for Sean. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from her. With her short, tousled hair and heavy-lidded eyes, she looked as though her dreams had been similar to his.

      Sex and more sex.

      Shaking his head, he flipped open his cell phone.

      “Who are you calling?” her sleep-groggy voice asked.

      “Corbett. I want to get some answers. We need to find out where that leak is. Find out if someone knows about your bootlegged code and how they’re keeping tabs on us.”

      Four rings, five, then the call went to voice mail. Sean hung up without leaving a message.

      Natalie grimaced, got out of bed and took out her own cell phone. “I’m going to make a few calls of my own. I’m just as tired of this as you are.”

      But she had no better luck. Sean listened as she left two separate messages. “Who’d you call?”

      “Auggie and Dennie. Auggie’s one of the best undercover ops SIS has.”

      He’d suspected as much. But the handsome doctor? “What about Dennie?” He tried to keep the jealousy from his voice.

      “He does occasional work for us. For the Lazlo Group, too.” She shot him a wry look. “You’d know that if you hadn’t been gone so long.”

      Sean bit back a retort. “How close are the two of you?”

      Shaking her head, Natalie walked to the window. “You don’t have a right to ask that question.”

      “Maybe not, but I’m asking anyway.”

      She sighed. “Drop it, okay?”

      Her nonanswer told him she had something to hide.

      “Have you and the doctor …?” Swallowing, he tried to find the right words without being crude.

      “Sean, I said drop it.” Her cutting tone told him she was furious. “My private life is none of your business. You died, remember?”

      He swallowed his own anger, not wanting the conversation to degenerate into an out-and-out fight.

      His hopes and dreams—all but vanished—came back to him in startling clarity. He’d had a future, once. He’d envisioned bright-haired children, laughing and playing. A white picket fence. The way Natalie’s eyes glowed amber when she was happy. Laughter instead of tears. Joy instead of grief. Love instead of pain.

      So much had been lost, taken from him because of a youthful error in judgment.

      How did one right such a wrong? Could he even go back, make another grab for that elusive brass ring?

      Did they even have a chance?

      “Fine. My apologies.” He dipped his chin. “We’ll keep it strictly business. Tell me what you think Auggie and Dennie can find out that we or Corbett can’t?”

      “You never know.” A tinge of relief colored her voice, which only irritated him further as she continued. “Auggie’s good—he keeps his ear to the ground. And Dennie—he’s everywhere. He’s one of the few doctors still willing to do house calls.”

      “Is he part of your intelligence network?”

      “No, though he’s a trusted contact. And,” she shot him a meaningful look, “a good friend. I’ve even heard it rumored he’s getting set up to do some doctoring among the Hungarian’s people.”

      Despite himself, Sean was impressed. “That would be quite a coup for your intelligence network.”

      “Yeah, it would.” Her smile looked tentative, but at least it was a smile. “Auggie and I are both very proud of him.”

      Auggie and Nat. Geez, he had it bad. Just thinking about the two of them together rankled. Oblivious, Natalie continued. “Once Auggie calls back, we might have a bit more information to go on. I’m getting tired of running around in circles.”

      She had a point. “True,” he conceded as he got out of bed and gathered his clothes. “Let’s see what they are able to find out. But for now, I’m going to grab a shower. Then we should get some breakfast and you can keep working on those codes.”

      “Sounds like a plan,” she said and smiled at him a bit sadly, as she lightly touched the antique armoire and ran her fingers along the curved wooden back of a Queen Anne replica chair.

      He instantly thought of the home they’d once shared, and how she’d loved to antique-shop, filling their rooms with cherished finds. He’d come to appreciate the eclectic mix as well, loving the variety, seeing it as an extension of her complex personality.

      How much he’d loved her. How much they’d loved each other. Did she really believe such a love

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