You haven’t exactly caught me at my best.
He’d been wrong about that. The contrast between his appearance then and now might be sharp, but it was only skin-deep. What she’d seen in Mexico was a deputy U.S. marshal who’d withstood torture and deprivation doing everything he could against terrible odds to safeguard his mission and save her life.
If that wasn’t a man at his best, what was?
He was doing the same thing now—except now the odds were stacked in his favor. This was Colorado, not Mexico. He had the resources of the U.S. Marshal Service behind him, with all the tech and weaponry he needed. And he had help.
Everything is going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.
Whether it was the drone of the rotors, the motion of the helicopter, or the lingering effects of her concussion, she was soon fast asleep.
NATALIE AWOKE WHEN Zach unbuckled her from the gurney. “Have we landed?”
“Yeah. Right on time.” He helped her sit up. “Easy now.”
Then he turned the thick handle on the door and opened it. Hot air rolled in, the tarmac heated by the summer sun. The mountains had disappeared, which meant they must have brought her to the far eastern part of the state. Other than that, she had no idea where she was.
It was a good four feet to the ground, but before Natalie could move, Marc and Gabe were there, both armed and wearing Kevlar beneath ordinary street clothes. They reached for her and lifted her to the ground.
“Can you walk?” Marc looked like he was about to pick her up.
Natalie held up a hand to stop him. “I’m fine.”
The two hurried her across the tarmac to an unmarked police car that was idling nearby, holding her between them. She glanced over her shoulder, and caught a glimpse of Zach removing the flight nurse jumpsuit.
“Don’t worry. He’s coming.” Marc gave her a wink.
Then Marc opened the back door of the car, put a hand on top of her head, and guided her inside, Gabe sliding in beside her.
“Buckle up.” Gabe gave her a warm smile, his seat belt fastening with aclick.
A second later, the doors were all shut and locked, Marc in the driver’s seat and Zach in the passenger seat.
And Natalie’s sense of dread returned.
For the first time since she’d known them, the guys weren’t bickering. They weren’t joking. They weren’t insulting one another. Other than the occasional reassuring word to her, they were absolutely silent.
You’re in trouble deep, girl.
“WE’RE BACK IN Denver.”
Zach glanced over his shoulder, saw the confusion on Natalie’s face as she realized where she was. She’d fallen asleep again, proof that she was suffering the effects of the concussion perhaps more than he’d realized. “We’re not trying to sneak you off to Timbuktu, but to get you someplace secret and secure.”
They had worked around the clock since Rowan’s visit to the hospital yesterday to arrange things—transportation, housing, security. Zach had been pleasantly surprised by the skill of his new special deputies. The three of them were pros, and they worked like a team, united by friendship, their concern for Natalie, and perhaps even their loathing for him. But that was okay with Zach.
They didn’t have to like him to do their jobs.
Though he had no military training, Darcangelo had more years in federal law enforcement than Zach and was every bit his equal when it came to organizing security. Of the three of them, he seemed to dislike Zach the least.
Probably because he didn’t catch you having sex with his wife’s friend when you were supposed to be watching over her.
Hunter’s Special Forces and SWAT experience had proved valuable. The man had gone so far as to scope out from a sniper’s perspective the possible lofts where Natalie might stay, making sure that no one would be able to take a shot at her from anywhere in the city. That’s how they’d ended up in the penthouse and not at the first two lofts Zach had considered.
And Rossiter’s . . .uniquetalents had come in handy, too. He was a solid law enforcement officer, but he had a special skill for defying gravity. When Zach had wanted to check the roof of the penthouse for possible places to install a private satellite dish, Rossiter had simply climbed the flagstone wall as if he were Spider-Man, eliminating the need to find a ladder. Zach had been astonished when he’d seen that the man had a prosthetic leg.
“Don’t be impressed,” Hunter had muttered. “It’ll give him a big head.”
With the help of some of Rowan’s men and resources, the four of them had pulled things together in record time. Because Natalie wasn’t eligible for enrollment in WITSEC, there were a lot of steps they’d been able to skip. No need to establish an identity, find her a new town, or launch her into a new career. She wasn’t leaving her life behind for good. Once Cárdenas was in custody or dead—and Zach now had a strong preference for the latter—she would be able to go home again.