It was a manuscript Natalie had written. Whatever her role in this, she had answers the rest of them lacked. It had to be why she’d run, gone with no forwarding address before they’d even put Nick in the ground. And it was why Scotty and his teammateswouldfind her, no matter what it took.
A stiff breeze ruffled his longer-than-usual blond hair, carrying with it the scent of the sea. This place was closer to the coastline than he would’ve expected, especially if Natalie had shared this home with her husband. Nick had never been fond of the smell of salt and dead fish that permeated the air around here. But maybe this hadn’t been a house for the two of them but instead Natalie’s, alone. Maybe it had been another secret. Natalie seemed full of those.
Scotty sighed and headed up a set of rickety wooden steps that creaked beneath his bulk, then reached out to knock on the door—only to discover it was already partially open, the doorframe around the lock splintered and gouged with the telltale signs of a break-in.
He drew his Glock from the holster at his waist and flicked off the safety. With his free hand, he eased the front door open wider and moved cautiously inside. Light filtered through the gauzy curtains and cast long shadows through the surprisingly tidy living room. Weapon at the ready, he surveyed the space, then inched toward what appeared to be a dining room. Everything was beige and bland, with no sign of Nick or Natalie—or, for that matter, anyone else living here. There were no family pictures on the walls, no mementos of any kind. It looked like a staged model house rather than an actual home.
Odd.
Something squeaked from down the hall, and Scotty stilled, his SEAL instincts blazing to the forefront.Discover. Assess. Neutralize.His specialty was hand-to-hand combat and direct assault, but nothing beat a 9mm and a full clip at the ready.
He took a deep breath, centered his body and his mind, then charged through an arched doorway and into a small kitchen. “Hands up!”
He processed several facts at once.
First, his target was a woman. Second, she was cute. Really cute. Third, her weapon of choice appeared to be a spatula.Death by batter?
Scotty frowned and lowered his gun slightly, squinting at the woman. “What are you going to do? Frost me to death?”
Her stern expression fractured as she flushed in embarrassment, but then she seemed to collect herself and her pretty green eyes narrowed. “I’m a black belt in judo. I can make anything into a lethal weapon.”
“Really?” He raised an eyebrow and relaxed a bit. Her rigid, downright silly pose told him she didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. No, the only thing lethal about her were those curves. With her fiery red hair glinting in the sunshine and her creamy cheeks stained with dots of pink, she looked like a 1940s pinup girl come to life. Hot damn, but she was a fine little thing.
He considered himself something of a connoisseur of women—short, tall, skinny, curvy, all ages and races and sizes, Scotty Devonshire loved them. Especially redheads. He lowered his Glock and stepped closer. She held her spatula higher and didn’t retreat. She stood the better part of a foot shorter than his own six three, putting her nose about even with his upper chest, which was where she kept her focus.
For some reason, he wanted her to look at him directly again, wanted to see the spark of indignation in her emerald eyes. Then he shook his head and scowled. He was here on a mission, here for Nick, here to find files he and his teammates could only hope were hidden somewhere in another one of Natalie’s novels. He wasnothere to hook up.
He clicked his weapon’s safety on once more and holstered it with one hand while snatching the cooking utensil away from the mystery woman with the other. His fingertips brushed her soft skin, and for a moment he had the wild urge to find out whether she felt that soft all over. Snapping his brain back to reality, Scotty tossed the spatula into the nearby sink, then widened his stance and crossed his arms. “Who are you?”
“Who areyou?” she countered.
The woman had cojones, he’d give her that. He wasn’t used to anyone being willing to go toe-to-toe with him like that. Not even professional operatives. Hell, there’d been times when he’d been training servicemen for special forces engagements and one lethal glare from him had the rookies practically soiling themselves. But not her. No, sir. This one stood her ground. Scotty found that turned him on all the more.
He didn’t answer, just watched her. Interrogation had been part of his military training, and he’d used those skills time and again. The best tactic was usually to wait it out, let stress and adrenaline work their magic. Eventually the target would talk.
Seconds ticked by with agonizing slowness as a whole host of emotions flickered across the woman’s delicate features: fear, anger, determination…and, finally, resignation. At last, she met his gaze, and a tingle of awareness shimmered though his bloodstream at the renewed eye contact.
Spring.That’s what the color of her irises reminded him of. The fresh promise of new beginnings.
Scotty forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand. Find the e-reader, download the files, report back. Hewould notlet this woman distract him from his mission. Still, it had been nearly two weeks since he’d gotten laid. Maybe that was the reason he was waxing poetic over some chick’s eyes. Jesus.
Thank God the rest of his team wasn’t here to see this. They’d never let him live it down. Frustration made his voice harsher than he’d intended. “Name. Now.”
She winced, her full lips thinning into a hard white line. “Hayley. Hayley Stevens.”
“What are you doing here, Hayley Stevens?”
“I should ask you the same thing.”
He inched closer, hoping to use his size to intimidate her into answering. So much of interrogation was letting the subject do your job for you—you didn’t have to make threats, you just had to stand there and let them imagine what youmightdo. He would never intentionally hurt any woman, but she didn’t need to know that. “Tell me.”
“I’m Natalie Matthews’s niece.”
That took him back a step. He’d planned to use being Natalie’s nephew as his cover. Frowning, he scrambled for a new, plausible story. But on the other hand, how sure was he that she was even telling the truth? Maybe he wasn’t the only one who had latched on to it as a convenient lie.
“Niece, huh?” He eyed Hayley with skepticism. “Funny how Nat never mentioned having a niece.”
His statement seemed to fluster her. She bit her lower lip, and he couldn’t help staring at the tiny movement. “We, uh, hadn’t seen each other in a while. That’s probably why she didn’t mention me.”