“I thought I’d take you back to my hotel room.” He placed an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.
She smiled up at him, “Then what?”
“I’ll order up some champagne.”
“Go on,” she prompted.
“Then I plan to spend the entire night reexploring every centimeter of your delicious body.” He stopped and kissed her in the middle of the full parking lot. “With my hands and mouth.”
“Oh, yes. I like the way you think.” She groaned at the blatant desire written in his eyes.
He traced her lips with his tongue, “So are you game for some one-on-one action with me?”
“Oh, baby, you know I am,” she promised and they laughingly ran toward the car.
* * *
Nathan quietly walked over to where Marcy lay curled up on his side of the bed—where he had lain only minutes earlier.
She stirred sleepily and half opened her eyes when he bent down to kiss her tenderly. “Go back to sleep, baby,” he whispered.
“Nathan...love you,” she whispered, eyes closing heavily.
“I love you, too, Marcy, very much. Remember that,” he whispered, kissing her forehead softly before straightening.
“Come back to bed,” she invited in hushed tones, her eyes still closed.
“I will in a minute. I have to make a phone call.” The words almost choked him because they were a lie. He gently pushed her hair away from her beautiful face, and she smiled slightly before drifting back off into sleep.
He felt as if his heart was literally being ripped from his body and even though he had come to a long overdue decision to leave Black Ops after this mission, even though he knew this was the last time he would ever have to leave her like this, it was still killing him. But for now—right now—he had to disappear from her life. There was no other choice possible.
The hardest thing he ever did was turn away from her and walk out the door knowing when she woke the knowledge that he was gone would destroy her—knowing there was absolutely nothing he could do except keep right on walking away from her.
* * *
Several hours later, Marcy stretched luxuriously and wondered why she didn’t encounter Nathan’s solid form. Opening drowsy eyes and squinting against the bright morning sun, she turned in Nathan’s direction, but he wasn’t there.
“Nathan?” She sat up in bed. Where was he? “Nathan?”
She vaguely remembered waking up in the middle of the night to find him standing over her. Had he been dressed? She couldn’t remember. Maybe he had gone downstairs for something. Her hand reached across on the pillow and encountered her phone sitting on top of a crisp piece of paper on which was written, Play me.
What was that man up to? Chuckling, she turned on her phone and saw she had a new voice recording. Pressing Play, she waited for it to begin.
“Hi, baby.” She smiled as Nathan’s voice filtered across the speaker, but that smile quickly faded as the message continued. “I’m so sorry, but I had to leave like this because if I didn’t you would have asked questions I couldn’t answer, and I didn’t want to leave with angry words between us. I have to leave because of my job, but I can’t tell you why or where I have to go. Just know that I’ll take you with me in my heart. When I’m able, I’ll come back to you, and I’ll explain everything. I promise. I love you, baby.”
Her mouth dropped open in shock, and she replayed the message again and again and again. Nathan was gone? This couldn’t be happening. Last night, he had told her he loved her—had meant it with everything he was. They had shared a beautiful, wonderful time together. Only now did she realize he had been saying goodbye to her.
“Nathan!” She jumped out of bed and ran through the entire suite looking for him but to no avail.
A few minutes later, she sank back down onto the bed after finding his clothes and other possessions gone. What the hell was going on? Nathan had loved her, had made her feel as if she was his life, and now he was gone. He had left her without paying her the courtesy of saying goodbye to her face-to-face, without letting her know where he was going or for how long, without a thought for the pain his leaving would cause her? How could he do this to her? How could he?
Her hand crumpled the paper until it was a small wad and flung her phone across the room sending it crashing into a wall with a loud crack before it splintered like her broken heart. Despite promising herself she wouldn’t, tears of anger and pain began falling heedlessly down her face.
She fell back against the pillows on which Nathan had lain with her a short while ago, curled against it and wept bitterly.
* * *
She didn’t go into work that day; she didn’t know how she made it home. She had spent the entire day where she was now, sitting on her sofa, staring unseeingly out of the living room window, trying to comprehend what had happened and why Nathan had willfully broken her heart.
She had forgotten she and Nathan’s dinner plans with Damien and Natasha until Natasha had called to remind her a little while ago. She’d told her she couldn’t make it and had hung up before Natasha could say anything else or before she could place Dami on the phone. She didn’t want to face anyone yet. She needed some time for her heart to assimilate what her mind already had—that Nathan was gone and he had taken her heart with him.
She sat on her sofa in the dark, knees curled up to her chest, feeling completely empty; she supposed it was better than the pain that had threatened to consume her all day long. The doorbell rang several times before she registered the sound, which was quickly followed by Damien beating on the door and yelling her name. Oh, God. How long had he been here?
“I’m coming,” she yelled, knowing he wouldn’t go away until she answered. She switched on a light on the way to open the door, partially illuminating the dark room.
One look at her sad features and Damien took her into his arms. “What’s wrong?”
“Nathan is gone,” she whispered.
She had promised herself she wasn’t going to cry again, but it was a hard vow to keep feeling her brother’s comforting arms go around her and hearing his softly sworn curse at her news.
“What do you mean he’s gone?” He pulled her into her apartment with one arm around her shoulders; his other hand grasped Natasha’s, who followed him inside.
She shrugged miserably. “He left without a word last night.”
“What?” The single word was spoken with quiet fury.
“Why would he do that?” Natasha grabbed Marcy’s free hand.
“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” Marcy harshly responded and then could have kicked herself as she noticed the sadness that crossed Natasha’s face at her words.
“When I find him, I’m going to beat him to a pulp,” Damien quietly promised before he could stop himself.
“Dami.” Marcy shook her head slightly before glancing toward Natasha.
He swore softly. “I’m sorry, Tasha,” he pulled Natasha close and kissed her hair.
“No, you don’t have to apologize.” Natasha’s arm went around his waist. Then to Marcy she said, “I don’t understand why Nathan would do this.”
“I don’t care what his reasons are. He’s not going to get away with this!” The outburst came out before Damien could stop it.
“Dami, I want you to promise me you will stay out of this,” Marcy pleaded. “If anyone is going to do physical harm to Nathan when he returns, it’s going to be me,” she promised in dead earnest.
“Marcy—”
“No. I mean it. Promise you won’t interfere.”
“I don’t know why I worry about you,” he joked, hoping she wouldn’t notice he wasn’t promising her any such thing.
“You can worry about me all you want, but I don’t need you to fight my battles.” She gave hi
m a tearful smile. “It is nice to know you’re in my corner, though.”
“Always.” He hugged her close. Despite her brave words, he felt his sister’s arm tighten around him, and his tightened in response. She was in pain, but she didn’t want to let it show. When he saw Nathan Carter again, he was going to slowly, methodically kill him!
* * *
Dressed in tan fatigues, Nathan made his way through the treacherous mountains of Yemen. His mind should have been on detecting booby traps, running into enemy interference or a host of other possible threats to him and his men, but instead it was filled with thoughts of Marcy.
He had been gone two weeks—two miserably long weeks that had seemed like years. He wondered what she was doing. Was she sitting in her office pretending to work, trying to hide the pain he had inflicted upon her? Was she wishing him dead or damning him to hell? Whatever she thought and felt about him he knew was justified.
He prayed she would forgive him, prayed this mission would be over with soon so that he could return to her; he was doing everything in his power to make that happen quickly. Without trying, he could see her beautiful face smiling at him. He could hear her infectious laughter and smell her exotic perfume mixing lethally with her own unique scent. He felt her...
“Sir? Sir!” A voice forcefully yet quietly brought him out of his revelry.
“What?” he quietly snapped, turning cold eyes on the younger man.
“I know you’re in charge, but all of our lives are in your hands,” a man bluntly replied. Nathan bristled at the polite rebuke.
“I’m aware of that!” he snapped.
“You’ve been distracted for quite a while, sir.” The other man forced himself to continue. He knew he was bordering on insubordination, but all of their lives were in Carter’s hands; he had to be focused, something he hadn’t been since beginning this deployment.
“If I want your opinion, Smith, I’ll give it to you,” Nathan angrily rebuked. “Now cut the chatter. We’re almost there,” he ordered and then sent hand signals to the members of his squadron.
Smith was right. His mind wasn’t on his job, and that could lead to deaths. He instinctively knew this was how it would be every time he left Marcy if he stayed with the unit, and sooner or later, he would be responsible for someone dying; he wouldn’t let that happen.
His decision to leave the unit was the right one for everyone concerned, but for now he had to concentrate on getting the hostages, his men and himself out of this hellhole in one piece. Then he was going home to his life—to Marcy.
Chapter 13
February was drawing to a close. Marcy sat behind her desk at work staring hollowly out of the windows that made up her back wall. A month—a whole month—had passed and she hadn’t received a single word from Nathan—not a text, a phone message or a hurriedly scribbled note. Nothing! The State Department refused to give her any information when she had called simply saying he was out of the country on business and couldn’t be reached, as if she didn’t know that already!
With each day that passed, her anger had increased to the point of pure rage. When she saw him again, it would not be a pretty reunion. There was no excuse for his behavior, and she would tell him that along with a few other choice truths if he bothered to show his face.
The buzzer sounded on her desk; she swiveled in her chair and punched a button before snapping, “What is it?”
“Ms. Johnson, there’s a man here to see... Sir, excuse me you can’t go in there!”
“Marie?” Marcy spoke into the phone before getting up and walking determinedly to the door seconds before it burst open admitting Nathan.
“I can handle this annoyance, Marie. Thank you. She dismissed her assistant, who was covering for Peggy at the front desk, without taking her angry eyes from Nathan’s determined face. Dressed all in black, he looked dangerous and so handsome. She was torn between giving him the tongue lashing he richly deserved and kissing him madly. She wanted to rush into his arms, feel him holding her close and press her starving lips to his, but her feet remained rooted in place. Despite the agony he had put her through, she was ecstatic to see him, but she wouldn’t tell him that!
“Marcy.” He walked toward her, stopping when her eyebrow rose angrily.
“Nathan,” she frigidly rejoined, “what brings you here?”
“Come on, Marcy.” He sighed at her flippant tone. “Let me explain.”
“Don’t you think the time for explanations was a month ago before you left me sleeping snug in your bed and snuck out of town like a coward?” she coldly asked.
“I know you’re angry...” he began, rubbing his chin. Another time she would have laughed at the gesture, but not now.
“Angry? Honey, there’s not a word for what I am,” she assured, placing her hands on her slender hips.
“Come with me so we can talk privately.” He reached for her hand, and she wasn’t quick enough to avoid him.
“Let go!” she snapped, angrier at herself than him for the elevation of her pulse at his touch.
“Not until you listen to me,” he refused, grip tightening on her fingers.
“If you don’t unhand me and get out of my office, I’m going to call security,” she seriously warned.
His mouth set into unbending lines. They stared each other long and hard, each intent on having their way. He gave in first, expression softening while he gazed lovingly into her turbulent eyes.
“Marcy.” He sighed and loosened his hold on her hand. “I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be.”
“Gee, thanks for your permission to be upset!” Taking advantage of his relaxed grip, she yanked her fingers from his and brushed past him, out of her office. “Marie, call security,” she ordered.
“I wouldn’t,” Nathan quietly suggested to Marie as he followed Marcy into the lobby before refocusing his attention on the woman he loved. “I’m not leaving until we talk.”
“Listen you.” Marcy poked his muscled chest with her finger. “The time for talking was a month ago. I don’t have anything to say to you now!”
“Fine.” He took hold of her hand again. “You can listen then because I have plenty to say to you.”
“I don’t want to hear it, Nathan!” She pulled against his grip. “Too little, too late!”
All he wanted was to pull her into his arms and kiss her endlessly, but he knew that wasn’t a good idea at the moment. He had to explain himself, and he was determined to persuade her to give him the chance to.
“I’m not going anywhere until we talk, Marcy.” He purposefully kept his voice calm; there was no sense in both of them shouting.
“You had your chance to talk before you left,” she angrily reminded. “Oh, that’s right,” she sarcastically said and smiled. “You were too busy sneaking out of town while I slept in your bed to even say goodbye in person!”
“I left you a note,” he quietly reminded her.
“Yes, you did leave me a nice little antiseptic, uninformative message, didn’t you?” Her voice rose perceptibly. His touch burned, and her insane need to forget her anger and fall into his arms only incensed her further. “Let go of my hand, Nathan!”
“No,” he stubbornly refused.
“Nathan—”
“What’s going on out here?” Michael demanded, exiting his office to see what was wrong with his visibly upset daughter.
“Daddy, tell him to let me go,” Marcy pleaded.
“Listen here, young man...” Michael’s voice faded away when Nathan turned to face him. “Oh, Nathan, it’s you.”
“Yes, sir.” Nathan offered his free hand.
“Well, you have a lot of explaining to do, son,” Michael sternly replied after shaking his hand.
“Yes, sir. I realize that,” Nathan agreed. “That’
s what I’m trying to do now, but your daughter’s not making it easy.” He smiled at Marcy’s angry glance. “Has she always been so stubborn?”
“Always.” Michael chuckled. “I could tell you stories...”
“Daddy, don’t you dare tell him anything!” Marcy placed her free hand on her hip indignantly.
“Give him a chance to explain, baby,” Michael suggested. “You know you missed him.”
“Oh, Daddy,” Marcy groaned in mortification.
“See what he has to say for himself.” Michael patted her cheek and then winked at Nathan. “You’d better make it good, son.”
“I’ll try, sir.” Nathan smiled as Michael turned and walked back to his office.
At the door, he turned and smiled. “Nice to have you home, son.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Nathan, let go of my hand,” Marcy demanded, quietly this time, now aware of Marie doing her best not to stare at them.
“If I do, will you promise to listen to me?”
“Yes,” she said and sighed. “I promise.”
He eyed her suspiciously. “Cross your heart?”
Despite her anger, she fought a smile. “Cross my heart.”
“All right.” He released her, half expecting her to bolt, but she didn’t.
“I’m listening. Go ahead and talk.” She brushed a strand of hair away from her angry but no longer livid face.
“Not here.” He glanced at the curious Marie and her father’s closed door before taking her hand in his again and guiding her toward the elevator. “Let’s get out of here.”
She pulled against his hand. “What’s wrong with my office?”
“We need to talk privately without interruptions.” He punched the button to summon the elevator, and when it arrived, he beckoned her inside.
“Maybe I don’t want to go anywhere with you.” She stood her ground. “Did you ever think of that?”
“Baby.” He stood half in, half out of the elevator bracing the doors open with his shoulder. “I know I hurt you by disappearing the way I did, but I did leave you a message and told you I’d be back,” he reminded. “Now I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I promise. Just give me a chance to explain, Marcy.” He touched her cheek gently. “That’s all I’m asking.” At her continued silence, he added for good measure, “Please.”
Our First Kiss Page 17
