Her brows settled into a delicate frown. “I know I’m not a geography whiz, but my recollection is that Iraq and Afghanistan lie somewhat to the east, while the desert we intend to cross is in a more northerly direction.”
Why did her accent have to make every damned thing she said seem charming, even when she was being a smartass?
It was time to get to the point.
He looked her straight in the eyes. “I know how to survive in the wild, Natalie. I can get you safely through the desert. I can protect you from Cárdenas and his men. But I can’t protect you from the consequences of your mistrust or your stubbornness or your curiosity. If you do anything reckless or desperate or stupid, we willbothpay.”
She opened her mouth as if to object, but he pressed a finger to her lips.
“Listen to me. There are things you can’t know about me, things I can’t tell you foryoursake. But I promised you I’d do everything I could to get you home safely, and I will. Please quit asking so damned many questions and trust me.”
He held her gaze, hoping she understood.
She studied him, as if she were measuring him against his words. “Okay, Zach Black, I’ll trust you. I’ll quit asking questions—or at least I’ll try.”
He couldn’t help but grin at that last bit. “Thank you.”
She looked down, a troubled expression darkening her face. “After all you saw in the war, you must really think I’m a wimp to freak out like that.”
He reached out and ran a knuckle over the curve of her cheek. “After all I saw in war, Natalie, I understand.” He understood more than she would ever know. “You arenota wimp. There are people who have claustrophobia for no reason. After all you’ve been through . . .”
She met his gaze again. “Please don’t let me down, Zach. I donotwant to die out there in the desert.”
He drew her into his arms and held her close, partly to reassure her and partly because he couldn’t help himself. “Ifyoudie, angel, it means I’m already dead.”
NATALIE CLOSED THE bathroom door behind her, then turned and met her own gaze in the mirror, exhaling in a long, slow sigh of relief.
What Zach had told her was the truth. She’d seen it in his eyes.
He was ex-military, a war veteran who’d been badly wounded in combat and then honorably discharged. Even if he was somehow mixed up in drug trafficking now, he’d once served his country and had almost lost his life. That didn’t absolve him of any wrongdoing in the present, but it helped her understand why he was willing to put his life on the line for hers—and why she could count on him to keep his word.
Deep inside, he had a strong sense of duty.
But what had brought him to the life he led now? How could a man go from serving his country to breaking its laws? And what exactly did he do? She couldn’t imagine him participating in human trafficking. The men who stole, bought, and sold people had no respect for human life. But drugs, guns . . . She could imagine him being involved in either. Or did he work as a hired gun for someone else?
She might have agreed to quit asking him questions, but that couldn’t keep them from popping into her mind.
She set her toiletries down on the counter, hung the white silk nightgown he’d bought for her on the hook on the back of the door, then undressed and stepped into the shower, wanting to rinse the sweat from her skin.
It all made sense now. Zach’s super-fit physique. His knowledge of first aid. His skill with weapons. His talent for strategy and staying one step ahead of the Zetas. His tendency to bark at her as if giving orders. His resilience in resisting torture. His ability to kill—precisely, cleanly, without hesitation.
Yes, I’ve killed, but only when I had no choice. It’s never easy taking another person’s life, but sometimes it’s necessary.
Now she knew what he’d meant by that.
She’d be lying if she denied that what he’d told her had made her feel safer. A short trek across the desert into the U.S. was surely a cakewalk for a man who’d fought in the deserts of Iraq and the mountains of Afghanistan. He’d probably had lots of outdoor survival training. He would know what supplies to bring. He would know how to navigate with GPS so they wouldn’t get lost. And if they ran into armed traffickers in the middle of nowhere, he would know how to deal with them, too.
She finished rinsing her skin, then stepped out and patted herself dry with a fluffy white towel, her gaze fixing on her reflection. The bruises on her cheek and temple were now a dull color of purple. She ran her fingers over them—proof of how close she’d come to dying. If it hadn’t been for Zach . . .
He’d already done so much for her. More than once he’d put himself between her and danger, even shielding her with his own body.
If you die, angel, it means I’m already dead.
He’d spoken those words to reassure her, but they struck her differently now, stirring something uneasy inside her. She clutched the towel to her chest, dread gathering cold behind her breastbone.
Oh, God, she didn’t want that. No, she didn’t want that.
She’d already lost her parents, already lost Beau. They’d been trying to help her, too. She didn’t want anyone else to die.