Mission: Marriage: Bulletproof Marriage

Though already swollen, it seemed his foot would support him. For now.

Standing, he tried to flash a triumphant smile but ruined the effect the moment he attempted to put weight on his injured foot. Staggering, he nearly fell.

With a loud sigh, she grabbed him. “We don’t have time for this.” Arm around his waist, she half pushed, half lifted, and helped him back to his feet.

“Come on.” Heading toward what had been the back of the alley, she helped him over chunks of cement, twisted metal and smoldering hot spots.

Dust choked him—them—but still she pushed on. He found himself admiring her determination.

“The explosion blew a hole in the backs of both neighboring buildings. The whole area could tumble down like a stack of cards. I’m hoping they don’t know it yet.”

Jaw clenched, Sean nodded. Sweat ran down his face and his foot hurt so badly he was half-afraid he might pass out.

Couldn’t do that. Had to keep Natalie safe.

Or was it the other way around?

His field of vision narrowed, then went gray. Blinking furiously, he tried to keep his focus, fought to keep putting his uninjured foot in front of the other. He knew his wife’s slender shoulders couldn’t support his full weight.

The effort had him panting.

“Easy now.” Nothing but cool satisfaction rang in her voice as she helped him over a large piece of concrete. She didn’t, he noted sourly, even sound winded.

Away from the alley, the smoke-clouded air felt a fraction better. Cleaner. He tried to take a deep gulp and choked.

“Hurry,” she whispered, trying to pull him forward. “We’ve got to move faster or they’ll catch us.”

He was doing the best he could, but she didn’t need to know the extent of his weakness. Pushing himself, he struggled to lengthen his shaky stride and to keep from muttering curses each time he came down on his injured foot.

Natalie led him down a twisted alley, turning left then right and left again—so many different directions that he lost track of them. Finally, they arrived at the back of a pipe shop housed in an ancient stone building.

“In here. Auggie’s one of my contacts. He’s also a friend. He’ll help us.”

Her friend? Since when did contacts become friends? Allowing connections to become personal could be dangerous. That was one of the first things Corbett had taught Sean when he’d begun training many years ago. Natalie should know that—she’d had intensive training when she went to work with SIS.

Sean had actually opened his mouth to caution her when he realized he had no right. She didn’t even consider him her husband anymore. After all, as far as she knew, he’d been dead for the last two years. By choice.

The back door was unlocked. Moving carefully, Natalie let herself in.

Sweating profusely, Sean leaned against the wall, drawing ragged breaths, trying to stay conscious.

“Are you coming?” she asked. If he detected a trace of impatience in her voice, it vanished when he raised his head and she got a good look at his face.

He must look even worse than he felt.

“God, Sean. You need a doctor.” Slipping her arm around him once again, she helped him up the steps and into the back of the shop. Once he was inside, she closed and locked the door behind her.

“There. We should be safe for a bit.”

A moment later, a bearded giant of a man came around the corner. He lifted one bushy brow when he saw Sean.

“Auggie!” Smiling, Natalie hugged him, her arm barely able to circle his neck. “This is Sean. He, uh, does the same line of work I do.”

For some reason, the fact she didn’t name him as her husband rankled.

“I’m her husband,” he said, holding out his hand.

As Auggie’s huge paw engulfed Sean’s, Natalie crossed her arms. “He’s not my husband,” she told the giant man. Then, letting her gaze drift over to Sean, she gave him a hard look. “Not anymore, you’re not. You’re dead.”

“Come on, Nat. I’m not dead.” His protest sounded weak, he knew, but it was difficult to talk and still try to hold on to consciousness.

“You are to me,” she said, turning her back and walking away.

“Sorry, boyo.” Auggie clapped him on the back. Hard.

Sean winced. Looking about for a place to sit, he hobbled over to a large wooden crate. His vision grayed. Again, he clenched his teeth and rode out the pain and nausea.

With fumbling fingers, he managed to extract his cell phone from his pocket.

“No.” Auggie snatched it out of Sean’s hand. “Not unless Natalie says it’s okay.”

Dumbfounded, Sean could only stare.

“I heard my name.” Natalie reentered the room. “What’s up?”

“He was trying to call out.” Tossing her the cell phone, Auggie gave Sean another baleful glare.

“Who are you calling, Sean?”

He could barely answer. “Corbett.”

“Why?”

“I need to find a doctor.”

“I know a good one.” Natalie and Auggie exchanged a look. “Why bother Corbett? We don’t work for him.”

Vision wavering, Sean swallowed. At this point, if Auggie had announced he was a brain surgeon, Sean wouldn’t have cared. “But I do—er, did. Let me call him.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Auggie spoke to Natalie as if Sean wasn’t there.

“He hurt his foot. I don’t think it’s broken.”

“Give. Me. The. Phone.” Sean gritted out the words.

Without hesitation, Natalie tossed it to him. “Knock yourself out.”

He punched in the speed-dial code. A second later, Corbett answered.

“I need the name of a doctor.”

“What? Have you found Natalie?”

Sean answered in the affirmative, filling Corbett in on the details. He ended with his foot injury.

“Sean, ask Natalie. She’ll probably have the best name. SIS has their own people and she’s been working in that area the last two years.”

While he’d been sequestered up in the Highlands, playing dead.

“Point taken.” He sounded churlish, he knew. “At least give me a name.”

“Very well.” Corbett sighed. “Contact Dr. Pachla.”

“Thanks.” Sean ended the call and dropped the phone back into his pocket.

A half smile on her full lips, Natalie watched him. “Let me guess. He told you Dr. Pachla.”

Reluctantly, Sean nodded. Even that slight movement brought him pain. “Can you contact him? Now?”

She looked at Auggie.

Smiling, Auggie nodded. “He’s already on his way.”

Sean leaned his head back against the wall. He must have passed out, because the next thing he knew, he heard the sound of bells tinkling.

Natalie and the giant were standing close together, talking in voices too low for Sean to hear.

“Someone’s here,” Sean muttered. “Maybe the doctor.”

“Or a customer. Just one moment,” Auggie said, disappearing into the front of the shop.

When he returned a moment later, a tall, elegantly handsome blond man followed him. Something about him looked familiar, though Sean knew he hadn’t met the man before.

When the doctor saw Natalie, his aristocratic features lit up. “Nat!”

“Dennie!” Natalie ran to him and hugged him. An intimate body hug with full frontal contact, Sean noticed, his irritation mounting.

For his part, Dennie didn’t seem in any hurry to push her away.

“Ahem.” Sean cleared his throat. “Over here.”

Immediately, Natalie stepped away from the doctor. “Dennie,” she said. “This is Sean. Can you take a look at his foot?”

“Of course.” Kneeling beside Sean, Dennie held out his hand. “Dennie Pachla.”

Sean shook it with as much heartiness as he could muster. “Sean McGregor.”

Both of Dennie’s blond eyebrows rose. “The Sean McGregor?”

Sean gave a weary nod.

Obviously surprised, Dennie glanced at Natalie. “But that would mean—”

“We were married.” Natalie sounded grim. “Once.”

“I was going to say that would mean you’re not dead. But I guess ‘we were married’ works.” Dennie continued. “You’re not still?”

“Yes,” Sean said.

“No,” Natalie replied at the same time.

“We were never divorced.” He glared at her.

“I’d think your death would have dissolved the marriage, don’t you?” She glared back.

“Whoa.” Dennie held up his hands. “Time out. I’ll just be taking a look at this foot, and then I’ll be on my way.”

Auggie went up to Natalie and put his arm around her shoulders. “Why dinna you tell me he was back?”

She shrugged. “I just found out. You know I would have called you.”

Sean winced. Though he’d always secretly harbored the fear their marriage wouldn’t have survived his secret, watching her prove she’d made it without him hurt more than it should.

“We’ll need an X-ray,” Dennie said after a brief exam.

“No time,” Sean responded.

A quick look at Sean’s face showed Dennie he meant business.

“I’m thinking your fifth metatarsal might be broken. Depending on how bad the break is, surgery is sometimes necessary.”

“Not an option.”

“A cast?” Dennie offered.

Sean shook his head no.

“Very well. I’ll run back to my surgery and fetch a walking cast. It’s a heavy boot,” Dennie said as Sean started to protest. “You have to leave it on for six to eight weeks.”

“Perfect.” Sean held out his hand. “Thanks.”

After a brief shake, Dennie rose and headed toward the door. Auggie followed. Only Natalie remained.

“What are you going to do?” she asked quietly. “After he puts that boot on your foot?”

“I came to protect you,” he drawled. “So I’m thinking I’ll accompany you back to London.”

“London?” Though she never raised her voice, her anger simmered in her eyes. “I’m not going to London.”

“That’s the plan.”

“According to whom?”

“Corbett. No doubt he’s been talking to your father.”

Briefly she closed her eyes. When she opened them, he saw determination and resignation in their depths. “I’m not going to London.”

He sighed. “Fine. Then tell me, what are your plans?”

“You never answered.” She crossed her arms and stared at him. Daring him to contradict her. “You first.”

“I said I was going to protect you,” Sean growled. “I’m going after him.”

“Him?”

Though she shouldn’t have had to ask, in a perverse way he was glad she had. He wanted to say the name of his enemy out loud. “The Hungarian.”

“The crime lord?” She looked wary. “Why? Don’t tell me Corbett’s already given you a mission.”

Sean had to remind himself that he had deliberately protected her from the truth about the Hungarian and the evil he could do. She believed his entire family had died in the same fiery crash that had supposedly killed him. In reality, they’d been slaughtered by the Hungarian’s henchmen.

The man known as the Hungarian had completely destroyed both of their lives. The crime lord’s vendetta was the reason Sean had pretended to die, so that Natalie’s life might be spared.

And she knew none of this.

“No,” he said slowly. “No mission. I’m not working for Corbett at the moment.”

“Then why?”

“Because the Hungarian is after you.”

He could see the stubborn light in her eyes. “The code I was working on before all this started was believed to be his, but what does that have to do with you?”

“That code may be part of the reason your team is dead, but he’s after you because you’re mine.”

When she started to argue, he shushed her with a finger to her lips, oddly gratified when she didn’t immediately jerk her head away.

“Natalie, I need to explain—”

“No.” Violently shaking her head, she pushed herself away from him. “I’m not interested in your explanations. The past is over with. What’s done is done. Save your story for someone who cares.”

He ignored the stab of pain her sharp words brought, knowing that, at least in her mind, he deserved them. “What I have to tell you has a bearing on the situation now.”

“I don’t care. I’ll be fine.”

Exhaling, he dropped the subject, knowing he’d have to try again later. She had to know the facts so she’d know what kind of monster they were up against. “So will I.”

“Have you ever worn one of those walking casts? You can’t move the way you’re used to.”

“Concern? From Super-spy?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t like to be mocked.”

“I’m not mocking you. Isn’t that what you are now?”

“Look, you’re out of practice, injured and you probably have no idea what’s been going on in the underworld since you’ve been gone.”

“Your point?”

“The Hungarian has taken out several of SIS’s best agents. He may be responsible for what happened to my team. If you go after him alone, he’ll kill you.”

So much for faith in his abilities. If anyone needed protecting, it was she. Sean could take care of himself.

“I’m already dead, remember?” He gave her his best cold look. “If he kills me, I guarantee I’ll take him down with me. Anyway, I’m not your problem anymore, now am I?”

Waiting with bated breath for her answer, Sean knew he longed for her to say the impossible. Extremely foolish, considering she’d been absolutely correct. Unless he killed the Hungarian, he didn’t expect to come back except in a body bag.

Natalie opened her mouth to speak, then shook her head. “No.”

His stomach clenched.

“You’re absolutely right,” she said, turning her back to him. “What you do isn’t my concern. But I think you should know we’re bound to cross paths sooner or later.”

“What do you mean?”

One swift glance over her shoulder, the directness of her gaze taking his breath away. “If the Hungarian is trying to kill me, then I refuse to sit around and wait for him to come after me. I’m going to him.”

Stunned, he could only stare. She’d just outlined his worst nightmare. “Why?”

She lifted her chin. “Among other things, I’m an SIS agent. My mission is clear.”

Before he could comment, she spun on her heel and walked out of the room. A moment later, he could hear her laughter mingling with Auggie’s.

Her life no longer included him. He should be used to the pain by now, but he wasn’t. If anything, seeing her again, taking the brunt of her anger and knowing he deserved it had made him hurt even worse.

How the Hungarian would laugh if he knew. Despite Sean’s sacrifices, the Hungarian had won a different sort of victory. Ironically, he’d succeeded in robbing Sean of the one person he’d loved the most. Natalie.

A few minutes later, Auggie returned alone.

Sean glanced up, then down at his hands.

“I’m worried about her,” Auggie said, dropping onto the couch next to Sean.

“So am I.”

“Are you?” The skepticism in the giant’s voice had Sean raising his head. “You sure have a funny way of showing it.”

Saying nothing, Sean gave the other man a look that plainly said back off.

Auggie ignored him. “If you want to go with her, all you have to do is make like you’re weak, so she thinks you need her to protect you.”

“I don’t need anyone to protect me,” Sean snarled. “Go away.”

The other man didn’t budge. “Swallow your pride, man. Just because you’re a legend in the intelligence community doesn’t mean you can’t eat a little crow to protect the woman you love.”

Wincing, Sean lifted his head. “Am I so obvious?”

Auggie chuckled. “Maybe not to her, but the way you feel is plain to see. Every time you look at her, it’s like you found gold at the end of a rainbow. I can read you like a book.”

“Wonderful,” Sean groaned. “Her knowing how I feel is the last thing I need.”

“Why? You’re her husband.”

“I was. Now, she hates me.”

“Can you blame her?”

Silence was the only answer Sean needed to give.

“Look, if you faked your own death, it must have been for a good reason. I would think you can pretend to be an invalid to protect Natalie. What could it hurt, other than your pride?”

Reluctantly, Sean nodded. “Is she any good?”

Auggie’s bushy brows flew. “I wouldn’t know. You were the one married to her.”

He felt his face color. “No, I didn’t mean that. I meant is she any good as an agent?”

Chuckling at Sean’s discomfort, Auggie shrugged. “She must be. She just got promoted to team leader, right before the tragedy with her team. I imagine she’s finding that hard to live with.”

As would anyone. But team leader? Sean couldn’t wrap his mind around that. Though Natalie had changed, she’d always been more of a follower than a leader.

With a sigh, Auggie heaved his bulk to his feet. “Think about it, all right?”

“I will.” Clumsily Sean stood, too, holding out his hand. After they shook, he met the giant’s eyes. “Why are you doing this? You don’t even know me.”

“No, but I do know Natalie. I care about her. Nat needs all the help she can get. You know what the Hungarian is capable of.”

Sean gave the other man a sharp look. “But does Natalie?”

“She lost her entire team.”

Exhaling, Sean realized once again he’d need to swallow his pride and pretend to be something he was not.

But to save Natalie, he’d do anything. Even tell her the truth—that more of their marriage had been a lie than she knew.

Chapter 3

She’d forgotten his stubbornness. Sean was the only other person she knew who came close to being as obstinate as she.

In the past, they’d struck sparks off each other. Infuriating and exhilarating.

No longer.

Now, being around him made her insides knot.

The bright sunshine and cloudless autumn sky felt at odds with the turmoil inside her. If the weather were a reflection of her mood, there’d be booming cracks of thunder, lightning sparking among swirling clouds and rain pouring down in sideways sheets.

She refused to let the cheerful day pull her from her black mood.

Red wig and sunglasses firmly in place, Natalie power-walked down the boulevard. Past the bakery, where the mouthwatering scent of freshly made bread made her pause, and past the coffee shop, where strong coffee with a dollop of cream waited.

The October air felt brisk, which she welcomed. Cool air and exercise. Good for the body and the mind. Little by little, she felt her tension ease. She rolled her shoulders, stood in the warm sun and breathed deeply.

When she’d regained her calm detachment, she headed back, managing to smile and nod at other shoppers.

Entering Auggie’s store from the front, she greeted Auggie as though she was only a customer and didn’t know him. He responded in kind, asking her if there was anything he could help her find.

This oft-used code told her they were not alone. She couldn’t go into the back yet to say her goodbyes to Sean.

Goodbyes? She huffed, pretending to look at an assortment of candy. He didn’t deserve a goodbye, not really, not after what he’d done.

But this was Sean and she’d loved him for so long. She couldn’t help but feel as though the heavens had given her an added blessing, allowing her to hear his voice one more time.

If she were honest, something inside her, some small, foolish part, wanted to see his beautiful face one last time. To drown in the warmth of his eyes, touch his skin, breathe his scent. She craved this in much the same way she’d craved sex right after they’d married.

She’d given up sex. Certainly, she should be able to give up Sean. After all, she’d done so once already, two years ago. She’d gone on with her life and, while she couldn’t unequivocally say she was happy, she’d survived without him.

Sean. The love of her life. The one man she’d trusted. To learn he’d betrayed her hurt almost as much as his death.

Yet she couldn’t make herself walk away. Not without knowing why he’d done what he did. She should demand answers; hell, she deserved answers.

But did she really want to know? Could she really handle the truth, whatever that might be?

As she strolled nonchalantly around the small shop, she realized two things. One, though she’d never been a coward, she didn’t yet want to know the why of his defection. Someday, maybe. But not just yet.

And two, she couldn’t leave him. Not now, not until he was healed. And if some tiny, foolish part of her whispered never, she ignored it.

Finally, the other customer left. Auggie came to her and touched her arm. “Come on.”

Sean sat slumped over on the cot, his head down. He looked up when they entered, then looked away.

Natalie crossed the room silently and dropped down beside him. She motioned Auggie to leave, which he did.

Once the other man was gone, Sean raised his head, but still wouldn’t look at her. “You’re going,” he said. His voice sounded hollow.

Her throat ached. Wrapping her arms around herself, Natalie came to a decision. “No. I’m not leaving. I need your help,” she said softly. He met her gaze then, his own full of frustration and stubbornness and physical pain.

Swallowing, he dipped his chin. “I think maybe it’s the other way around.” He dragged a hand through his unruly hair. “I’m the one who needs help.” The soft gravel in his voice told her how much of an effort it cost him to say the words.

Despite herself, her heart melted. For sanity’s sake, she kept her expression stern. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“Help you go after the Hungarian? If so, I’m in. I want the bastard.” Now she had his attention. “I do think he’s responsible for what happened to my team. There are rumors that he’s running a major arms-smuggling operation. The code we were working on could be about that.”

He gave her a startled look. “Do you have any proof?”

“Not yet. But we figured out a rudimentary character-exchange system. Signal for phrases, that sort of thing. There was one section no one could crack. I’d planned to take a shot at it. Then my entire team was cut down in cold blood.”

“How?”

“Murdered at their desks.”

“At SIS? With full security on duty?”

“We worked a lot of nights on rotation. Someone disarmed the alarm and took out two of the guards. Everyone in the office that night died.”

“Except you?”

“I wasn’t there.”

“And the code?”

After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded. “All traces gone. Except for the copy I’d taken with me.”

“Do you still have it?”

“Yes.”

He swore. “I want that son of a—” Taking a deep breath, he met her gaze. “I want him, you want him and Corbett has offered to help. Don’t you think we have a better chance of taking him down if we work together than if we work separately?”

“Maybe.” She didn’t dare let her guarded hope show. “Are you proposing we work as a team? If so, then like I said a moment ago, I’m in.”

He looked down at his leg. “Are you sure?” he asked, quietly. “Before we do this, we both need to be one-hundred-percent certain.”

Even after two years apart, she realized he knew her too well, knew that she was offering this as a way to protect him.

“Please,” she added, because she didn’t know what else to say.

As he opened his mouth to speak, his cell phone rang.

Watching while he answered, again she was struck by his sheer masculine beauty. Her heart hurt.

How she’d missed him.

And, she thought bitterly, how she hated him for what he’d put her through.

“Here.” He handed her the phone. “It’s Corbett. He wants to talk with you.”

Gingerly, she took the phone and said hello.

“Your father’s worried about you,” Corbett said, by way of greeting. “Why haven’t you contacted him?”

Guilt made her wince. This was the first time in her entire career she’d had to ask her father, a former Lazlo operative, for help.

“You sent Sean,” she volleyed back. “You knew he wasn’t dead.” She couldn’t believe it. Corbett had known Sean was alive. As a family friend, Corbett had attended the funeral, offered his condolences, watched her suffer when with two simple words—he’s alive—he could have alleviated her agony.