Mission: Marriage: Bulletproof Marriage

“That’s what I thought. Especially when you said he might be after me because of you. Why?”

When he looked away, the stab of grief felt fierce.

“It’s a long story,” he said. “And while you might be ready to hear it, I’m not sure I can tell it.”

“Don’t you think it’s time I knew the truth?”

Dragging a hand through his hair, he looked down, up, anywhere but directly at her. “Yes. But you deserve to know everything, all at once, and what I’ve done might make you hate me even worse.”

About to tell him she could never hate him, she bit back the words. Her chest ached. “After all this, you’re still hiding something from me?”

“No more than you’re hiding from me.”

“Quit trying to change the subject.” She shook her head. “I’m not hiding anything. This isn’t about me, it’s about you.”

His smile mocked her. “See? You can’t go on feeling responsible and guilty.”

“Easy for you to say. My entire team died. I didn’t. I’ve got to figure out what the hell I know that the Hungarian wants to keep silent or that he wants to discover.”

“Natalie, listen to me. You need to stop feeling responsible and trying to fix this. It might not all be you.”

She stared at him, heart in her throat.

“Some of what’s happened—hell, most of what’s happened—might be because of me.”

“You keep saying that. But I don’t understand. Tell me.”

Though he looked reluctant, this time he held her gaze. That was Sean, never one to back down from bad news. “They might have gotten word that I wasn’t really dead. The Hungarian knows if that were true, you would be the one person who could bring me back to life.”

“The Hungarian used me to get to you? That makes no sense.”

“You asked about my accident, my family’s accident? There was no car crash, no accident.”

Bewildered, she put her hand to her throat. “If you’re telling the truth, there was one hell of a massive cover-up. Even SIS has the car crash in their files.”

“No car. No crash.”

Briefly, she closed her eyes. “Why? Why would anyone go to such lengths?”

“To protect you from the Hungarian. He’s sworn a vendetta on me.”

The old-fashioned word seemed out of place, wrong. “A vendetta?”

“Blood feud. That’s why he slaughtered my family.”

“Slaughtered?” Closing her mouth, she squared her shoulders. “Is that what really happened, Sean? Your mother, father, sister—he killed them? All of them?”

“Yes.” He inhaled, the sound loud in the quiet room. “He murdered my entire family for revenge.”

“Why? Because of Kitya Renkiewicz, his mistress?”

He shook his head. “I killed Kitya, but I had no choice. If I hadn’t shot her when I did, she would have killed me. But the Hungarian didn’t give a rat’s ass about her. My problems with him started long before Kitya.”

“That doesn’t explain why you faked your own death.”

“You were next. The only way I could stop him from coming after you was for him to believe I was dead.”

“You couldn’t come to me, tell me what was going on? Instead, you engineered a massive cover-up and faked your own death?”

He nodded.

In disbelief, she stared. Her pain felt ten times stronger faced with the unbelievable extent of his lies.

“This is all you can come up with?” She wanted to hit him. “I was your wife, the one person you could trust. You let me believe you were dead, ripped my heart out, and this is your explanation? Sean, I grieved for two years. Your death,” she spat the word, “changed my life.”

“It changed mine, too.”

She wanted to weep. “It’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever—”

“It worked.”

“No. It didn’t. You’re here now. I’m getting shot at. Nothing worked.” Raising her gaze to his, she let him see the depths of her bitterness.

“Nat, I—”

“No.” She lifted her hand, managed a careless wave. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Ah, but I do.” The rancor seeped through to her voice, and she let it. “That’s why you need to drop it, Sean.”

“But—”

“If you want to work with me, don’t say another word.”

Turning her back, she blinked back tears. Their marriage had seemed so different, so real. Based on mutual respect and trust and love, or so she’d believed.

That only proved what a gullible fool she’d been.

No more.

“Go to sleep, Sean.” Without waiting for an answer, she got up, turned off the light and sat in the chair by the window.

“What about you?” His voice, combined with the room’s darkness, made her ache again.

“I’m going to sit here awhile.” She kept her tone curt. “I’ve got a lot to think about.”

Sean dreamed. For the past two years, he’d been unable to forget Natalie’s kiss. Or the feel of her body, supple and welcoming, wrapped around him while they made love.