She shot him in the head and he slumped over the controls. Then she jumped into the helicopter and shoved him out the door.
Ian swore as he sprinted toward the helo.
But he wasn’t fast enough.
Their eyes met—and then Natasha grinned. She pulled the collective control up and the helicopter lifted off. Ian stood beneath it and watched in frustration as it flew higher, eventually disappearing into the pitch black of night.
He waited for a long moment, heart in his throat as he listened for an explosion. It was tricky flying this territory at night and he didn’t know if she was capable of it. Hell, he hadn’t even known she could fly.
He kept expecting her to crash into a mountainside, but nothing happened. No explosion came.
Ian strode over to where Roberto Broussard lay. His eyes were open wide and there was a neat hole in the center of his forehead. It took Ian a moment to notice that the doctor had also been shot in the crotch. Right in his balls.
“Fuck,” Ian whispered.
Another helicopter sounded in the distance, only this one was bigger and filled with commandos.
Ian didn’t want to be here when they arrived. He didn’t want to explain the dead men, and he didn’t want to spend hours giving statements. He damned sure didn’t want to explain himself to Phoenix, his handler in the CIA.
No, it was time get the hell out of here. There was nothing more he could do.
Ian sprinted for the tunnel.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Tallie sat with her legs curled beneath her, sipping hot tea to warm her frozen bones. She was tucked into a plush seat on the private airplane that belonged to Black Defense International. The journey home was going much better than the journey over had.
For one thing, she wasn’t bound or gagged, and five big strapping men tiptoed around her as if she were made of glass.
She wasn’t, but she didn’t tell them that. She was tired and cold and enjoying that they were concerned with her comfort. It was a nice change from the past day.
It had been a hard trip down the mountain. After negotiating the tunnel beneath the monastery, they’d emerged into a wooded area and then had to hike through the forest for a couple of miles. When they came to a clearing, a big black helicopter dropped out of the sky and picked them up.
Ian Black caught up to them just in time to jump onto the helicopter too—but Natasha wasn’t with him. Tallie hadn’t really expected that she would be, but she’d hoped.
“She commandeered a helicopter and flew away,” Ian had said in explanation.
The man Tallie now knew was called Jace had looked as if he’d been thumped between the eyes with a two-by-four. “She can fly?”
“Apparently.”
After a quick trip to the airport, they’d boarded the BDI jet and taken off. Tallie’s head was still spinning at the speed with which everything had happened.
Brett sat down beside her and Tallie’s entire body heated at his nearness. Emotions she’d been holding in check wanted to spill from her lips, but she didn’t let them. He’d come for her, but that didn’t mean anything by itself. It just meant that he was one of the good guys.
He took her hand and pulled it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. A lump formed in her throat. She deliberately didn’t look at him so she didn’t lose control.
“I’m sorry, Tallie,” he said. “So fucking sorry I wasn’t there to stop him.”
She turned. He’d washed off the greasepaint and was once again the handsome, sexy man she loved. The look on his face was tinged with so much anger and sorrow that she nearly cried out. Instead, she lifted a shaky hand and caressed his stubbled jaw. His green eyes blazed at her touch, and an answering fire began to pulse inside her.
“I don’t understand any of this, Brett—but I know for a fact you couldn’t have known what was going to happen. Robert—Roberto—used Sharon to get to me. How could you have known he’d do that?”
“I should have anticipated it.”
He would insist on blaming himself, but she knew it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault except Roberto’s. He was the sick fucker who’d orchestrated everything. She’d told Brett what Roberto had said to her, what he’d intended. But he hadn’t actually hurt her, other than the small hurts when he’d abducted her.
“How is Sharon?” She knew that her friend was safe, but she didn’t know her mental state—and she’d been afraid to ask.
“Angry. Confused. Feeling guilty. She’s at home now, resting. I texted her to let her know you were safe. She knows about the auction, Tallie. I had to tell her.”
Tallie nodded. It was actually a relief that her best friend knew what had happened. Because she was going to need someone to talk to about it all.
“It’s okay. But what happened with Roberto is not your fault and it’s not hers either.” She pulled in a breath. Let it out. “You’re both stubborn. So stubborn.”
“She loves you.”
Do you? She wouldn’t ask it, though. She sniffed and pushed away thoughts of unrequited love.
“Who is Roberto Broussard really? He told Sharon his name was Robert Cortes.”
“Dr. Roberto Cortes Broussard. A prominent plastic surgeon who was at the auction that night I rescued you. He bid on you, and he lost.”
“He’s not really trying to pioneer any vision technology for blind people, is he?”
Brett shook his head. “No. He lied to Sharon about that. About everything other than the fact he’s a doctor. He is rich, but his fortune comes from an inheritance and from being a criminal as well as from his practice.”
Tallie shuddered. “What will happen to him now? Will the Spaniards arrest him?”
Brett frowned. She could tell he was thinking about what to say.
“Tell me,” she said. “I think I deserve to know.”
He nodded. “Broussard is dead.”
She blinked. Was it awful to feel relief over a man’s death?
“I can’t say that bothers me even a little bit.” She snorted softly. “Is this what happens? You just get used to death and violence and then you start feeling like it’s justified?”
“Sometimes. It’s okay to be glad he’s dead, Tallie. Broussard was a monster. The world hasn’t lost much now that he’s gone.”
Tallie shivered. “Do you think Natasha was right?”
Brett frowned. “About what?”
“When she said I wouldn’t be in danger again. Do you think she was right?”
He stared at her for a long moment. “Yeah,” he said. “I think she was.”
She nodded and closed her eyes. But she wasn’t sure she was ready to believe it.
Once they landed in DC, Brett took Tallie to his place on the Eastern Shore because it was much closer. Ian probably would have given them a helicopter to return to Williamsburg, but Brett hadn’t asked. Because he was selfish enough to want Tallie to himself for a while, which he would not get if he took her home.
Things weren’t settled between them, and he wanted them to be. He just didn’t know how to go about telling her what he felt. It hadn’t seemed right to tell her while they were running from the monastery, or when they were on the plane and everyone else was there too.
But he needed to tell her, and soon. Maybe she didn’t feel the same way he did. That was something he dreaded knowing, but also something he needed to know. Because he couldn’t move forward until he did.
It terrified him to say the words to her. For now, he could at least pretend they were on the same page.
He drove them over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge and to the small town where he’d bought a house on a creek that spilled into the bay. It was peaceful and quiet and he hoped she would appreciate it like he did.
They didn’t say a lot during the trip. He pointed out the sights and they discussed superficial topics. He felt like one of those water bugs, skating along on the surface of something that was much deeper and more treacherous than he kn
ew.
Brett was uncharacteristically nervous when he finally pulled into the driveway of his little white house with the timeworn wood siding. What if she didn’t like it? What if she hated everything about it?
She was a decorator. A woman with impeccable taste who lived in a home that looked like it fell out of a magazine.
“What a beautiful setting,” Tallie said when the house came into view. He drove around to the side-entry garage, but didn’t enter it.
Tallie was gazing at the yard where it sloped down to the water. The creek was small but pretty and there was a short dock that Brett liked to sit on sometimes. He’d take a couple of beers, sit in one of the Adirondack chairs, and just watch the birds flying and the fish jumping. It was relaxing.
“I think it is,” he told her, wishing it was a sunny day instead of a gray one. “Wait there.”
He got out and went around to her side of the vehicle to open the door. She smiled as she put her hand in his, and his heart flipped in his chest. It was chilly, but nowhere near as chilly as Spain had been. She was wearing a new quilted jacket and fresh clothing because BDI kept entire wardrobes of clothes on hand for various purposes.
He’d planned to take her inside and show her the house first, but that wasn’t what he did. He led her down the sloping green grass to the wooden dock. They stepped onto it and ambled to the end where the chairs sat. A blue heron stood on the opposite bank, in the marsh grass, one foot up as it waited for an opportunity to strike.
The air was fresh and cold and the setting was beautiful. It was as if they were the only two people in the world right now.
Brett turned to face Tallie, his heart ready to beat right out of his chest. She smiled up at him. She looked happy, and for that he was thankful. She’d been through so much. Too much.
If he had his way, she’d never experience another moment of fear so long as she lived. Probably a tall order, but it was what he wanted for her.
He didn’t let go of her hand, and she didn’t pull it away.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” Tallie said, breaking the silence. “I wasn’t ready to go home.”
He squeezed her hand. “Are you afraid to go home again?”
She drew in a breath. Then she shook her head. “No, I’m not. No one broke into my house. A man who pretended to be interested in my best friend used that relationship to get to me. It happens to women all the time, in some form or another. Stalkers, abusive husbands, jealous lovers. I refuse to let it change me, Brett. I don’t want to be scared all the time.”
She was strong. Brave. “I’ll protect you, Tallie. I swear it.”
“You won’t always be there though, will you? Which means I need to learn to protect myself. I’m going to take some self-defense classes. Apply for my pistol permit. I should have done that long ago. Because the world is a dangerous place, especially for women.”
He hated that she felt that way but he knew she was right. He’d seen firsthand, at a young age, just how dangerous it was for women who were alone. He’d feel better if Tallie knew how to protect herself when he wasn’t around.
“I need to tell you something,” he said.
A little line formed on her forehead. “Okay.”
“I told you my mother died when I was eight. But I didn’t tell you that she was murdered, or that I was the one who found her.”
Tallie gasped, her fingers curling harder into his. “Oh, Brett. I’m so sorry. That had to be terrifying for you. You were just a little boy.”
“It was. I didn’t realize she was dead at first. She’d been strangled. It was cold and dark because we didn’t have any electricity. I heard her bring the man home, but he didn’t know I was there. I was hiding beneath blankets in the living room, trying to stay warm. He—”
His throat closed up as he remembered. Tallie slipped her arms around him and held him tight, her head tilted back to look up at him.
“It’s okay,” she said. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“I need to,” he forced out. “I’ve never told anyone. The police knew. It’s in my record so I’m sure the fosters knew whenever they got me. But I’ve never told anyone, never said the words myself. My mother was murdered and I found her. And I swore I’d do everything I could to keep it from happening to anyone else.”
“Oh, Brett. You’re one man. You can’t stop all the evil in the world—but you’ve made a difference. You made a huge difference for me. Without you…”
Her eyes were shining. She dropped her chin, hiding those beautiful eyes from him. He put his finger beneath her chin and tipped it up again. A tear broke free, slid down her cheek.
“I love you, Tallulah Margaret Grant,” he said, the words spilling from him even though he didn’t want them to. Because he was afraid. Afraid of her reaction. Afraid it would change everything between them and they’d never get it back again.
“You do?” Her voice sounded full of wonder.
His heart had stopped after he’d said the words, but now it started beating with renewed hope. “Yes. I didn’t think there was such a thing as destiny and finding the one. Knowing in your soul that you’ve found her. But there is, and I have. I’ve been waiting for you, Tallie. All my life, I’ve been waiting.”
Her jaw had dropped during his little speech. She laughed, a watery, sobby laugh that caught at his soul.
“I love you too, Brett Stone Wheeler. Like for realz and forever and all that stuff. But I’m not strong or brave like you. Or like Natasha—she’s so magnificent and tough, and I’m not.”
He put his fingers over her lips, softly hushing her. “You’re one of the strongest people I know, Tallie. There are men who wouldn’t survive what you’ve survived this past month. Natasha is a fighter—but so are you. You may not wear guns and fight battles, but you’re strong. Never doubt it.”
“Wow,” she said. “You really mean it.”
“Hell yeah, I mean it.” He put his arms around her, tugged her close. “You’re soft where you need to be soft, and strong where it counts, and I think you’re perfect.”
“I’m not perfect. You’ll see.”
“Whatever you say, baby. You can spend a lifetime trying to prove me wrong, but you aren’t going to. I’m stubborn like that.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, laughing. “Fine, be stubborn. I can be stubborn too. Right now, for instance, I stubbornly want you to kiss me. Then I want you to take me inside and undress me and make love to me. I am feeling very stubborn about it.”
Brett laughed. “If that’s your definition of stubborn, then I’m all over it, honey.”
“So long as you’re all over me, we’re good.”
Tallie grinned up at him. Brett grinned back. Then he kissed her, his heart full of love and his soul feeling free for the first time in twenty years. He’d finally found the key that clicked into place and said, Home.
The key was Tallie. He was hers forever.
He picked her up and took her inside where he undressed her tenderly, then pushed his way into her body while she begged him to go faster. But he didn’t want to. He wanted to enjoy every moment, every stroke, every single sizzle of sensation as he built the pleasure to a peak.
He built it until Tallie was practically sobbing with need. Until his balls ached and his throat was tight and his love for her threatened to burn him alive. Then he let her fly free, and he flew with her until they were both spent, until they came back down, entwined together, blissfully happy in the knowledge that all their lonely yesterdays were gone.
Epilogue
Christmas Eve…
* * *
Brett walked from his kitchen to his living room and stopped, as stunned as he’d been the first several times at the transformation Tallie had wrought in his home. She looked up from where she sat on the couch in front of the fireplace and smiled at him.
She was still dressed in the deep berry-colored gown she’d worn to the gala tonight and he was still in his tuxedo. He’d had t
o restrain himself from ripping her clothes off and making love to her the minute they walked in the door, but he’d wanted to spend time in the living room, staring at the Christmas tree and all the beauty that Tallie had created for him.
He carried a bottle of wine and two glasses and he set the glasses on the table so he could pour. Then he handed Tallie her glass and clinked it with his before he sat back and lifted his arm so she could snuggle in beside him.
The Christmas tree twinkled with white lights and the fire blazed merrily while carols played in the background. It felt like the kind of Christmas he’d always longed for. He never decorated, but Tallie had insisted. She knew what he’d gone through as a child and she’d said that he needed to experience the magic of the season in his own home, with the woman who loved him.
“You were right,” he told her as he sipped the wine.
“Of course I was. What was I right about?”
He snorted. “Christmas decorations. They’re gorgeous and so are you. I’m happy.”
She squeezed him. “I’m happy too.”
“I’m grateful to you for this, Tallie. But I want you to understand that I don’t expect you to move to Maryland. I can move to Williamsburg just as easily.”
They’d told her mother they were dating, and she seemed to like him. They were going to her house for Christmas dinner tomorrow.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Tallie said in that tone that told him she was planning something. “I’ve been exploring the local area and I think maybe they might need a Tallie Grant Interiors and Antique Tours.”
He blinked. Then he turned to stare down at her. She grinned up at him. “Are you serious?” he asked.
“Why not? I’ll never open my own place in Williamsburg. I can’t compete with my mother. I don’t want to, either. Besides, I like it here. I love the view and I can envision so many projects to make this house really shine. The bones are here—it just needs the vision.”
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