stiffly. “You
were gone. He said he checked to see if you were on a mission and you weren’t.”
Lying bastard. Natches grunted at that. “DHS ordered the mission. They had a line on
Nassar Mallah. I went out after him. When I finished and returned, you were gone.”
Chaya bit her lip as she moved across the room and lifted herself heavily onto one of the
stools that sat at the counter. She looked tired; she looked hopeless. And that look tore at
his heart.
“Sounds like Timothy.” Her voice was nearly toneless. “But it didn’t matter, not really. I
couldn’t function then, Natches. Not for either of us.”
God he wanted to hold her now. What the hell was it about this woman? She was inside
him, and five years of fighting it hadn’t managed to push her out of his soul.
Was it love? Hell if it felt like anything he had seen out of Dawg and Rowdy. He didn’t
feel gentle. He felt like he wanted to devour her from head to toe. He wanted to roll
around in oil with her. He wanted to lift her to that counter and spend hours eating the
tastiest flesh he’d ever found between a woman’s thighs.
She was hurting, enmeshed in memories that he knew had to be ripping her guts to
shreds. The sight of it made him crazy. He would do anything, say anything, to ease her
pain, but by God she wasn’t hiding from him anymore.
She held that past between them like a spiked shield, and he’d had enough of it. Five
years. He’d let her torment him through endless, aching nights. He’d suffered every
nightmare he knew she suffered, and his pain for her sliced through his soul with each
memory.
“You’ve had long enough to begin functioning then.” He had to force himself to stand
back from her, to not touch her.
She looked lost, lost and lonely, almost as broken as she had looked the day they told her
her husband was the traitor who revealed her to the terrorists who had kidnapped her.
He watched as her shoulders straightened then, her chin lifted. He didn’t know what the
hell she had in her mind now, but he knew exactly what she intended to do, and he’d be
damned if he would let her.
She was not walking out on him again. Not like this. This was the closest he’d managed
to get to her since the night her daughter had died. And then, it had been comfort, not
need, not hunger. She had needed someone to hold on to. Someone to take her away from
reality while she found a way to handle the coming grief.
He’d given her that. He wasn’t willing to be that someone to her again though. He wasn’t
a warm body to hold back the pain, and damn her to hell, he was sick and damned tired of
being relegated to her past. A part of a memory she desperately wanted to forget.
“I would have divorced him for one night with you.” And all the need, the hunger, the
driving, aching desperation he felt himself was echoed in her voice.
Her declaration surprised him though. And he could tell by the tone of her voice that it
filled her with guilt.
She turned to him then, her gaze haunted. “Using the excuse that our marriage had been
lost before then doesn’t help. I took vows, and I meant them. But I was going to leave
him, even before I knew he had betrayed me. I was going to leave him, Natches, and I
made that decision because of you.”
He could feel the “but” coming, and he knew it was going to piss him off. He could feel it
in the tension gathering in the air around them.
“He was a bastard,” he snarled before she could say anything more. “You knew it, even if
you didn’t have proof of it.”
He had known it. Any man who allowed his wife to face danger alone deserved to lose
her to another man. Women were precious. Women who loved, who honored their vows,
were more precious than the finest gems. And Chaya would have honored those vows
until the ink dried on the divorce papers. He knew it. And sometimes he wondered if he
hadn’t hated that part of her.
“That doesn’t excuse
were gone. He said he checked to see if you were on a mission and you weren’t.”
Lying bastard. Natches grunted at that. “DHS ordered the mission. They had a line on
Nassar Mallah. I went out after him. When I finished and returned, you were gone.”
Chaya bit her lip as she moved across the room and lifted herself heavily onto one of the
stools that sat at the counter. She looked tired; she looked hopeless. And that look tore at
his heart.
“Sounds like Timothy.” Her voice was nearly toneless. “But it didn’t matter, not really. I
couldn’t function then, Natches. Not for either of us.”
God he wanted to hold her now. What the hell was it about this woman? She was inside
him, and five years of fighting it hadn’t managed to push her out of his soul.
Was it love? Hell if it felt like anything he had seen out of Dawg and Rowdy. He didn’t
feel gentle. He felt like he wanted to devour her from head to toe. He wanted to roll
around in oil with her. He wanted to lift her to that counter and spend hours eating the
tastiest flesh he’d ever found between a woman’s thighs.
She was hurting, enmeshed in memories that he knew had to be ripping her guts to
shreds. The sight of it made him crazy. He would do anything, say anything, to ease her
pain, but by God she wasn’t hiding from him anymore.
She held that past between them like a spiked shield, and he’d had enough of it. Five
years. He’d let her torment him through endless, aching nights. He’d suffered every
nightmare he knew she suffered, and his pain for her sliced through his soul with each
memory.
“You’ve had long enough to begin functioning then.” He had to force himself to stand
back from her, to not touch her.
She looked lost, lost and lonely, almost as broken as she had looked the day they told her
her husband was the traitor who revealed her to the terrorists who had kidnapped her.
He watched as her shoulders straightened then, her chin lifted. He didn’t know what the
hell she had in her mind now, but he knew exactly what she intended to do, and he’d be
damned if he would let her.
She was not walking out on him again. Not like this. This was the closest he’d managed
to get to her since the night her daughter had died. And then, it had been comfort, not
need, not hunger. She had needed someone to hold on to. Someone to take her away from
reality while she found a way to handle the coming grief.
He’d given her that. He wasn’t willing to be that someone to her again though. He wasn’t
a warm body to hold back the pain, and damn her to hell, he was sick and damned tired of
being relegated to her past. A part of a memory she desperately wanted to forget.
“I would have divorced him for one night with you.” And all the need, the hunger, the
driving, aching desperation he felt himself was echoed in her voice.
Her declaration surprised him though. And he could tell by the tone of her voice that it
filled her with guilt.
She turned to him then, her gaze haunted. “Using the excuse that our marriage had been
lost before then doesn’t help. I took vows, and I meant them. But I was going to leave
him, even before I knew he had betrayed me. I was going to leave him, Natches, and I
made that decision because of you.”
He could feel the “but” coming, and he knew it was going to piss him off. He could feel it
in the tension gathering in the air around them.
“He was a bastard,” he snarled before she could say anything more. “You knew it, even if
you didn’t have proof of it.”
He had known it. Any man who allowed his wife to face danger alone deserved to lose
her to another man. Women were precious. Women who loved, who honored their vows,
were more precious than the finest gems. And Chaya would have honored those vows
until the ink dried on the divorce papers. He knew it. And sometimes he wondered if he
hadn’t hated that part of her.
“That doesn’t excuse
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