Breaking Point (28 page)

He has a point, man.

Hunter put a restraining hand on Joaquin’s shoulder. “No need to worry on that account, McBride. I’m not even going to tell my wife, because if I do . . . Well, let’s just say that the I-Team women have a way of sharing one another’s secrets.”

Rossiter cleared his throat. “Kat knows, but she’ll keep it to herself. She’s that way.”

Zach met each man’s gaze in turn. “Thanks. I care about Natalie more than you know.”

Then, feeling hollow, he turned and walked away.

CHAPTER 20

FRESH FROM A long, hot shower, Natalie finished drying her hair then slipped into the nightgown Zach had bought for her.

She hadn’t known he’d packed her clothes until she’d come back to her room and found them sitting on her bed, a bit wrinkled but otherwise brand-new. To think that he had carried these things all the way from Altar . . .

At least she would have this reminder of him.

Fighting a looming sense of depression, she brushed her teeth, then drew down the covers. Emotionally exhausted but not sleepy, she was about to switch on the television, when someone knocked on the door. She stood, stared at the door, afraid to open it, afraid he’d come to say good-bye.

You can’t just leave him standing there.

Pulse tripping, she crossed the room and opened the door. “Kat!”

“I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“Don’t be silly. It’s so good to see you!” And it was.

They drew together in a tight hug, then sat on the bed like girls at a high school slumber party, Natalie in her nightgown, Kat in a red broomstick skirt and a white blouse, her long, dark hair pulled back in a silver barrette. But the topic of their conversation was much more sinister than anything Natalie could have imagined as a teenager.

She told Kat what had happened from the moment the bus was attacked to the arrival of the Shadow Wolves, leaving out only the intimate details of her relationship with Zach. But sharing her story with Kat was different than sharing it with Agent Chiago. Giving a deposition was all about facts. This was about feelings, too.

By the time she finished, they were both in tears, a box of tissues sitting on the bed between them.

“When Julian told us that we probably wouldn’t see you again, I thought I was going to throw up.” Kat wiped tears from her cheeks. “I’m ashamed to say it, but I tried not to think about what they might be doing to you because I couldn’t stand it. I prayed for you every day. We held a special sweat lodge to pray for you.”

“Thank you.” Natalie gave Kat’s hand a squeeze, more touched than she could convey. “And thank you for cracking Zach’s code. I had no idea what I was saying when I read that over the phone.”

“Zach must be a very special man to do all that he did for you. Gabe tells me he’s a former Navy SEAL, a Medal of Honor recipient, and a deputy U.S. marshal.”

Natalie couldn’t help but smile, a bittersweet ache in her chest. “He’s . . . incredible. The pain he endured, the way he watched out for me, his ability to strategize, even the way he moves—I’ve never seen anyone who can do what he does. He put his life on the line for me.”

“You did the same for him.” Kat gave her hand a squeeze. “Breaking out of that filthy, infested cell, beating the heck out of that Zeta guard, setting Zach free when you could have left him behind—that was incredibly brave, too, you know.”

Coming from Kat, this felt to Natalie like a great compliment.

“Zach is the brave one. What they put him through . . . If you had heard his screams . . .” She shuddered. “I only met him five days ago, but it feels like so much longer than that. Now he’s going back to his life, and I’m going back to mine. And I’m going to miss him.”

“You care about him. I can tell.”

And then Natalie could keep it to herself no longer. “I . . . I had sex with him.”

Strangely, Kat didn’t seem surprised by this revelation. Maybe it was obvious. Then again, Kat was very good at reading people.

Natalie went on. “Being with him is . . . amazing. But now he’s leaving. And that really stinks because I didn’t think I could even have feelings for a man.”

Kat looked at her, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“I was engaged once.”

Telling Zach about Beau must have opened up something inside her. She found herself telling Kat about her life before the storm and how Beau and her parents had died and why, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“I loved Beau so much, Kat. For six years, I’ve spent every moment of my life missing him. And some part of me feels guilty not because I had sex with Zach, but because it didn’t make me think of Beau. I want to move on with my life. I want to have love again. But I don’t want to forget Beau.”

For a moment, Kat said nothing.

“The Lakota have a special way of dealing with mourning. They spend a year acknowledging their grief, and then they hold a Wiping of the Tears Ceremony so that they can move beyond sadness. You haven’t yet wiped away your tears.” She picked up a tissue and with great tenderness dabbed Natalie’s cheeks. “Moving on and finding love again doesn’t mean you have to forget Beau. He will always be there, inside you, in your memories. Moving on only means that you wipe your tears away—and let yourself live and love again.”

Natalie had never thought of it quite like that before. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad you finally told me what it was that had broken your heart. I knew there was something, but you never talked about it. You’re like a sister to me, Natalie. I’m happy I could be here for you.” Then she put her hand on her belly and rubbed, and Natalie noticed something she hadn’t before.

“Are you . . . Are you pregnant again?”

Kat smiled, nodding. “Thirteen weeks. I haven’t said anything. With Tessa having problems, it doesn’t seem right.”

“Did you plan to have another baby so soon?”

Alissa was only nine months old.

“Gabe and I agreed to go the first ten years of our marriage without using contraception.”

“No contraception at all? You could end up with . . .
ten
kids.”

“Big families are common among traditional Navajo.” Kat smiled, clearly amused by Natalie’s surprise. “My grandmother gave birth to twelve children. My mother had eleven. I look at Alissa, and I see both Gabe and myself in her. It’s hard to explain, but it feels to me that Gabe and I are truly joined together in her. How could I not want to have lots of children with him when I love him so much?”

“That’s a beautiful way of looking at it, though I don’t know that I would want to have ten babies even if . . .” And then she remembered.

The condom.

She’d completely forgotten about that the moment the Shadow Wolves had arrived. What if she got pregnant as a result? She started doing mental math, trying to figure out where she was in her cycle.

“What is it? Is something wrong?”

“No. I . . . Well, it’s just that—”

There was another knock at the door.

Kat stood, tossing the tissue in the trash. “It’s probably Gabe. I told him to come get me when Alissa woke up. She wakes up to nurse at night.”

Remembering what she was wearing, Natalie walked to the door and opened it discreetly so that only her head was showing. But it wasn’t Gabe who’d knocked.

It was Zach.

Clean-shaven, his hair still wet, he leaned against the doorjamb wearing a pair of jeans and a black shirt with its sleeves rolled up. He looked in, saw Kat. “Oh. You’ve got company. I don’t want to bother you. I can come back.”

He turned to go.

“No, no, it’s fine. I was just leaving.” Kat held out her hand. “I’m Kat James, Gabe’s wife.
Ahéhee’
. Thank you for helping Natalie get home to us. You were the answer to many prayers.”

Zach took her hand, looking almost embarrassed by her praise. “Yeah, well, I guess I was in the wrong place at the right time. Thanks for decoding that message. Was it difficult?”

“It was harder than I thought it would be, but I was happy to help. It made me feel like I was doing something. Good night, Natalie. I’m so grateful you’re safe.” Then Kat gave Natalie another hug and disappeared down the hallway.

His gaze met Natalie’s. “Can I come in?”

 

ZACH COULD SEE she’d been crying. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

Liar.

“I’m sorry I slapped you.”

“I probably deserved it.” He ran a thumb down one tearstained cheek, his gaze taking in every feature on her sweet face. She looked up at him, both longing and fear in her eyes. The longing he understood. But the fear?

I’m so afraid I’ll never see you again after tonight. Don’t you dare leave without saying good-bye, Zach McBride.

He’d come to say good-bye—and to give her his contact information at the El Paso Intelligence Center so she could reach him if it turned out he’d gotten her pregnant. But now that he was here, now that he was with her, the words wouldn’t come.

This is it, McBride. Say good-bye.

Fuck that.

He still had tonight.

He lifted her into his arms, some primitive part of him gratified by her surprised little gasp, then carried her the few short feet to the bed, lowered her onto the sheets, and stretched himself out above her. He claimed her mouth with his, kissing her with a desperation he’d never felt before, just being close to her dissolving the blackness that had gathered in his chest.

She came alive beneath him, sliding one hand into his hair, melting into him, her tongue carrying the minty taste of toothpaste into his mouth. And, oh, the girl could kiss. Whether it was her Cajun blood, something she’d learned from Beau, or her own special sensuality, she put her whole body into it, her breasts pressing against his chest, her hips undulating beneath him, her lips, her tongue, her teeth teasing him, defying him, forcing him to take control back from her again and again.

He dragged his mouth off hers, out of breath, his body shaking with the urgent need to be inside her. He took off his shirt, felt Natalie’s hands slide over his bare chest. Then she reached for his zipper. But this was moving too fast. Too fast.

If all he had was tonight, then he was going to make it last.

He caught her wrists, brought her hands to his lips. “Slow down.”

She gave a frustrated, breathless whimper, her lips swollen and wet, her pupils dilated, her hands clenched into fists.

Slowly, his eyes on hers, he drew her arms over her head and pinned them there, the little tremor that ran through her proof that she could handle a little gentle domination—and might even enjoy it.

Just one of the many parts of her you’ll never get to explore, McBride.

He forced her onto her belly, then slid down the bed until his knees were on the floor and her feet were before him. He kissed her toes, pressed his lips to her soles, nibbled his way over her slender ankles. Then, pushing the nightgown up to her hips, he moved on to the silk of her newly shaved legs, kissing and nipping her firm calves, the sensitive skin at the back of her knees, her thighs.

He glanced up, saw that her arms were bent at the elbow and tucked in against her sides, her fingers clenching the sheets.

Just wait, angel.

With both hands, he pushed the nightgown up to her waist, the sweet, clean scent of her skin enticing him. He cupped her bare ass, squeezed, his gaze taking everything in. A man could see a lot from behind—the dimples just above her rounded buttocks, the dark cleft between her bare labia, her rosy inner lips just nudging out, begging him to taste her there. And he would.

But not yet.

Natalie shivered, undone by Zach’s sensual assault, his lips hot against her derriere, her skin unbelievably sensitive as he kissed, nibbled, nipped, and licked her bottom. He bared her body as he went, his hands sliding over her skin, crumpling the soft silk. Goose bumps rose on her skin, spreading as he worked his way up, kissing and tasting her lower back, the curves of her hips, her rib cage, the length of her spine, her nape, the whorls of her ears.

He drew the nightgown over her head, kissing her shoulders, her temples, her hair. Then she felt his fingers begin a long, slow glide back down her spine, finding their way between her buttocks to stroke her labia from behind.

A muscular leg encased in blue jeans nudged its way between her knees, forcing them apart. “I need room to work, angel.”

She felt his gaze on her there, heard him groan, and knew he was aroused by what he saw. And
that
aroused her even more. He parted her, one hand caressing her bare bottom, the fingers of the other busy between her thighs, stroking her clitoris, playing with her inner lips, teasing her entrance until she was drenched and aching to be filled. But he seemed to be in no hurry to take the ache away.

She bit the sheets, her lower back arching of its own accord, raising her bottom to give him better access, her body begging him to enter. And then, when she thought she could take it no more, he slid two fingers deep inside her, stroking her, driving her out of her mind.

“You’re so tight and wet.” He whispered to her, his words heightening her arousal. “Your scent—it’s like an aphrodisiac.”

But just as the pleasure inside her began to crest, he stopped, forced her onto her back, and started all over again, kissing his way up her body, tasting, nipping, licking her scorched skin, suckling her nipples, the ache inside her unbearable. She trembled, her body tensing with each new kiss, her nerve endings overwhelmed by sensation.

Then he rose and stood at the foot of the bed, leaving her naked and burning, his gray eyes gone dark. His gaze on hers, he grabbed her ankles and dragged her toward him, pulling her to the edge of the bed. Her heart began to pound, the need to have him buried inside her overriding all else.

But rather than unzipping his pants, he knelt down, draped her calves over his shoulders, and buried his head between her thighs. Then he ran his tongue over her in one long lick. “You taste like heaven.”