After a few seconds, the surveillance paid off. An arm shifted and the guy’s weight moved forward. He stayed on his stomach, but he’d switched to alert. That could only mean one thing: Natalie.

Gabe didn’t wait. He took off at a flat-out run, ignoring the way his boots slipped against the snow. The depth of the pile slowed his movements, but he stepped as lightly as possible, careful not to sink.

By the time he hit the clearing where the open area met the edge of the trees, the guy was already climbing down. Gabe jumped over the trap he knew lay right there and jumped deeper into the thick woods. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Natalie running toward him.

“Match my steps.” It was all the warning he could get out before he picked up the pace. All of his attention stayed on the guy bounding down the tree with an ease that almost suggested he’d been raised in one.

The guy let go of the last branch and Gabe leapt. Hit him square in the side and knocked them both off balance. They flew, falling to the ground. Rough rocks and broken tree limbs poked into Gabe as they rolled. The other man, younger and lighter, used his legs and hands. He was fast, but Gabe had the weight edge and a load of fury fueling his movements.

They ended their sparring with the guy’s back on the ground and Gabe straddling his hips. The guy kept moving. Reached for a knife in a holder by his waist. Might have gotten off a swipe if Natalie hadn’t picked that moment to step up.

She aimed her gun at the stranger’s head. “I’d stop moving unless you want us both to shoot you.”

While she covered him, Gabe sat back and caught his breath. A second later he searched the guy for weapons. Slid his hands into pockets and conducted a pat down. Unpacked two knives and two guns and figured he’d missed a few before getting up to stand next to Natalie.

Out of patience and pissed off at being in wet clothes again, Gabe launched right into threats. “You have ten seconds to tell me who you are and why you’re here before she uses you for target practice.”

The guy kept the back of his hands flat against the ground by his head. Smartly did not move even as his gaze went back and forth, and fear showed in his eyes. “Just scouting out the area.”

That just made Gabe ache to shoot. “Eight seconds.”

Something in his tone or about the situation must have broken through, because the guy dropped the scared innocent look. A calm washed over him as his gaze bounced to Natalie then back to Gabe. “This isn’t about you.”

“Six.” Gabe took off an extra second just because the guy looked at her.

She sighed, clearly done with the testosterone show. “Just tell him.”

“Can I sit up?” the guy asked.

Gabe wanted to say no but Natalie beat him to the answer. “I’d do it slow and keep your hands up.”

The guy obeyed but once his ass hit the cold ground he winced. “I was sent to watch over you both.”

“Watch over?” Natalie repeated the words slowly, drawing out the last syllable.

The guy’s gaze flicked to Gabe. “By someone concerned with your continued safety. Someone in the business who’s worried you’re in trouble.”

The motion was enough to clue him in. He didn’t lower the gun because the news didn’t do anything to lessen his shoot-first instincts. “Ah, fuck. Rick sent you.”

“Rick, as in your black-ops brother Rick?” She shrugged when Gabe stared at her. “What? I told you I read your file.”

The guy on the ground cleared his voice. “Can I get up?”

Since he delivered shitty news, Gabe thought no. “Is Rick in Montana?”

For a second the guy didn’t say anything. Then Natalie gave his upper thigh a kick with the snow-covered toe of her boot. “I’d answer if I were you.”

“No.”

She frowned at the guy. “You don’t sound convincing.”

“My orders were to watch and report back. Not make contact.” Rick’s man dropped his hands to the ground but didn’t make a move toward any part of him that could hide a weapon.

“You failed on that score,” she mumbled.

They needed to collect as much information as possible, so Gabe focused on that rather than Rick. “Where’s the plane?”

“Belongs to a local.”

She blew out a long dramatic breath. “A well-paid one, I’m assuming.”

That explained the informal checking and how he got in so close despite there not being a single cabin nearby. The closest one sat miles away, which in this weather and on foot could amount to a ten-day trek.

Not that the guy was staying.

Now that Gabe knew he couldn’t, or shouldn’t, kill the guy, he went with the next best thing. Made him a messenger. “Your job is to go back to D.C. and tell my big brother to fuck himself.”

Natalie smiled then. “Probably won’t do much for this poor schmuck’s job security.”

“As if I give a shit.” Gabe didn’t. That would teach this guy to throw in with Rick.

“Report back that we’re living in a cabin,” Natalie said as she took over. “Not in contact with anyone. Not hurting anyone. Because all of that is true.”

The guy started shaking his head before she got all the words out. “Can’t.”

Now that was irritating. Gabe tightened his grip on the weapon. “I’m still holding a gun.”

“You’re not going to shoot him,” she said.

“I never promised that.”

The guy must have sensed his death sentence had been commuted because he stumbled to his feet. “I sit here and do my job and we all get to go home faster. Easy.”

“Your job is to contact Rick. Tell him I spotted you and that everything is clear here.” Gabe refused to budge from that position. “Then tell him to fuck himself. Don’t forget that part. It’s important.”

“Gabe—”

“That’s as nice as I can be.” He slid a hand under her elbow and started to walk away. He turned back and glanced around the ground by the guy’s feet. “And I’d be careful where you step. It would suck for you to step in the wrong place and die for Rick and one of his operations. He’s not worth it.”

ELEVEN

Natalie knew her skill set. Handling touchy males about even touchier subjects with any degree of tact was not one of them. Still, Gabe needed something, and for whatever reason she wanted to help. Blame the close quarters, or maybe the waning resistance to him the more time they spent together.

He stormed around the cabin and had been doing so ever since sending their watcher away. First Gabe washed the dishes. Actually, that came second. He had to create dirty dishes first and accomplished that by making coffee and oatmeal and not touching either.

The answer probably went something like: gently nudge him into conversation and, once he relaxed, circle around and ask him the more direct questions. Screw that.

She sat down on the couch’s armrest. “So, I guess Rick is a dick.”

Other than the brief stiffening of his shoulders, Gabe didn’t show much of a reaction to the comment. “Understatement.”

Since that didn’t work, she circled around and tried again. “You seem close to Andy.”

“I am.”

At this rate she’d run out of questions in about two seconds and he would not yet have said ten words. Men at work used to whine about difficult women all the time. Talk about a pot-kettle situation.

She sighed because it was either that or yell, and she guessed that wouldn’t help the situation one bit. “Talk to me.”

He turned around and faced her then. “About what?”

Yeah, no question about it. He was in full-on showdown mode. She hated the curt answers, the barely talking thing he did in general. The scruffiness, the rough hotness—forget all of that. Right at this moment his mood struck her as especially annoying. “Don’t be an asshole.”

He didn’t even blink. “It was a legitimate question.”

Right. “You and your brother Rick work in the same field and—”