Chapter 20

Paolo kissed his way down Natalie's throat and between her pert breasts. She writhed beneath him as her head rolled from side to side. "You're killing me here, Paolo," she panted.

He chuckled and slid one hand over a breast and squeezed. "That's the idea."

"Oh yes, yes!"

His mouth closed over the other nipple. She ran her hands into his hair to hold him there. After a few moments, he worked his way down her flat abdomen and lower, pushing her legs apart and teasing her with light kisses.

"Hurry, Paolo!"

His head came up, a wicked grin on his face. "Not yet, cara." He kissed and licked his way back up to her mouth. He grabbed her hands and pinned them on either side of her head. Then his mouth crashed down on hers. His tongue plunged in and mated with hers. Natalie's back arched and she wrapped her legs around his waist in an attempt to get closer. Her taut nipples rubbed against his broad chest.

Paolo broke the kiss briefly. Natalie wriggled one hand free, reached down and boldly wrapped it around Paolo's rock-hard penis. He moaned and his eyes closed in a moment of ecstasy.

"Ah, Natalie . . . "

"You like that?"

He was speechless as she massaged him. Then she pushed at his shoulders and forced him to roll onto his back. She straddled him and bestowed hot kisses all over his abdomen and chest. He reached up and palmed her breasts. She threw her head back and sighed.

While he was riveted by her flushed expression, she opened her eyes and smiled.

"Now!"

Again, she grabbed him and began to guide him into her feminine depths. Paolo seized her around the waist, flipped her over, and plunged in all the way as Natalie's eyes widened in surprise.

In and out, in and out, slowly at first, he set the pace. "Paolo. . . oh, Paolo!" Then he increased the speed until she cried out his name. A split-second later, he reached the pinnacle and with one final thrust, collapsed on Natalie.

For several minutes, neither spoke. Their sweat-slicked bodies lay joined amid the tangle of sheets and pillows as they tried to slow their breathing.

Finally, Paolo raised his head and trailed his finger gently over Natalie's face. "Il mio amore," he whispered as he kissed her softly.

Natalie sighed and closed her eyes. Paolo turned her on her side and slid his arms around her. Her last sensation was of her back pressing against Paolo's chest.

Natalie sank into a deep sleep immediately, but Paolo lay awake for some time. He listened to her slow, even breathing and idly caressed her arms. Even after this mind-blowing experience, his brain would not turn off.

All manner of complications would probabloy ensue because of this. His job was important to him, but he had no regrets. Jernigan did not deserve Natalie and now Paolo had claimed her for himself. To hell with complications; he would face whatever happened head-on.

He dropped a kiss on Natalie's shoulder and closed his eyes.

**

Hours later, a faint buzzing sound penetrated Paolo's consciousness. He ease his arms from around Natalie and sat up. She sighed softly and rolled onto her stomach.

Cell phone. Paolo glanced around the dimly-lit room and saw his pants at the foot of the bed. He retrieved the offending device and went into the living room.

"Sabbatini."

He listened for a couple minutes. "You can't be serious." The person on the other end was quite adamant and Paolo had to hold the phone away from his ear.

"Understood," he finally said and closed the phone.

"Is something wrong?" He turned and saw Natalie in the doorway, naked and leaning against the jamb."I heard voices."

He longed to take her back to bed and repeat the magic they had experienced earlier. The complications were here sooner than he'd expected.

"Jernigan escaped."

Natalie gasped in shock. "What? How? He was in shackles!"

"When they let him go to the bathroom, he grabbed the guard's weapon and overpowered him. Then he used him as a human shield and got out. Shot the guy in the leg."

"Oh my God."

"Get dressed. We're outta here."

Chapter 19



Paolo propelled Natalie toward the bedroom to the left of the sitting area. "Go. I'll be ready in ten minutes."


"Lucky you," she answered over her shoulder. She shuffled into the bedroom and dropped her purse on the bed. The wide bed and the fluffy pillows looked so inviting, but she knew if she sat down for five seconds it would be lights out. She sighed heavily and stumbled into the bathroom.


She turned the hot water in the shower to full-blast and dropped her clothes in a heap on the cool tile floor. She stepped in and let the water pound her tired muscles. This was the absolute worst day of her life.


Maybe if I stand here long enough the water will wash every thought from my mind.


She rested her forehead against the tile and closed her eyes.


**


Twelve minutes later, Paolo was showered and dressed. From the sitting area he could hear the shower running in Natalie's room. There was no rush really. Restaurants were open late and he didn't begrudge Natalie some time to unwind. It had been a stressful day for both of them. He opened his laptop and decided to check e-mail.


Twenty-five minutes later Natalie had yet to appear. No water was running and he didn't hear her moving around the bedroom. He stepped to the door and knocked lightly. There was no answer. "Natalie?" Still nothing. He went to the bathroom and pushed the door open. Steam rushed out at him.


"Not good," he mumbled and shook his head. Clad in only a pale blue bra and panty set, Natalie had her head down on the vanity and was sound asleep, her right hand clutching a comb. While her lingerie was less revealing than many swimsuits he'd seen, he was nevertheless assaulted by a wave of lust. No doubt about it, she was beautiful! His primal instinct urged him to scoop her up, throw her down on the nearest bed and devour her.


"Shit." He blew out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. He approached and gently shook her shoulder. "Natalie."

Her head snapped up. "What? Where am . . . oh. Guess I dropped off for a minute. Sorry."

"It's okay. If you'd rather stay in, I can call room service."

"No, no. Five minutes. I promise I'll be ready."

"Take your time," Paolo said. Reluctantly, he removed his hand, but couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from all that smooth, tanned skin. Her chest rose, drawing his attention to her pert breasts. Suddenly, he wanted to rip off that little bit of satin and touch her.

Finally, he turned to leave before he said or did something impulsive. "I'll be out here when you're ready."

He returned to the sitting room and mentally cursed himself for not insisting on separate rooms. Having her this close was almost more temptation than a man could bear. On the other hand, she was a federal witness and his responsibility until they were back in the states. He sat down at the table and looked at his e-mail again. Nothing jumped out at him so he closed the laptop. As if on cue, his stomach rumbled. He'd had nothing to eat except a less-than-appetizing airline meal all day.

Food. That's what we need. Even as the thought formed, he wasn't sure that would cure all his hunger.

**
What just happened? Natalie wondered. The way Paolo had looked at her was both scary and thrilling at the same time. He kept staring at her, assessing her. She massaged her forehead as if to banish the disturbing thoughts. Gotta get a move on.

She hurried into the bedroom, pulled out a pair of black slacks and a purple top, threw them on, and ran the comb through her still wet hair.

**

Five minutes later, they were in the lobby. "The concierge recommended a place about a ten-minute walk from here. Are you up for that?"

"Sure. I feel like I could eat a horse right now," sighed Natalie.

Paolo chuckled. "I'm glad you're not one of those women who picks at a salad."

"Never. I love to eat."

"Then let's go."

The lobby doors whooshed open and they stepped into the warm Prague evening. The sidewalks were crowded with people looking for just the right café or bar in which to have a good time. Natalie was aware of Paolo's hand at the small of her back, guiding her along. She noticed several other women casting flirtatious looks at Paolo, but he ignored them. Before long, they turned down a side street and found the restaurant, Chez Franz.

It was a small, but lively family-run place and in a matter of minutes they were seated at a booth near the back. Paolo took the side facing the front door, as his FBI training dictated.

"You want to see them coming?" asked Natalie.

"Who?"

"You don't fool me. Any bad guys who might be following us."

Paolo gave a small smile. "Something like that." He leaned forward, elbows on the table. "Are you afraid?"

"Not at all. In fact, I feel very, what can I say, liberated after unloading on Jeff the jackass today." She frowned slightly. "But I don't want to talk about Jeff or think about Jeff or even hear his name. It's over."

Around them, couples and families laughed and talked. Someone began singing "Happy Birthday" at a table on the other side of the restaurant. But in their secluded booth, Paolo felt like he and Natalie were the only ones present. "Fair enough. You've been through a hell of a lot. Why don't we concentrate on this menu instead?"

"Great idea. How about some wine?" asked Natalie.

Paolo summoned the waiter and gave their orders. In a moment, he returned with a bottle of red wine and filled their glasses. Natalie took a huge swallow, then another. Paolo touched her hand. "Pace yourself. The food's not even here yet."

Natalie smirked. "I'm fine. Just thirsty." She set the glass down. "Since you know all about me and my troubles, let's talk about you for a change. Back in high school, everyone said your family was in the Mafia."

"Everyone? Is that what you thought?"

"I'm the one asking the questions now," scolded Natalie.

Paolo feigned surrender. "As you wish. No, my family was not involved with the Mafia. But that was a constant threat to our businesses. I was a wild kid, always in trouble. Oh, my brothers weren't angels either, but they didn't seem to get caught as much. That's why my father decided to send me abroad for a while. After I settled down and applied myself, the family came over for an extended visit. They liked it here and saw there were opportunities for growth so they packed up and moved. We haven't looked back."

"And the FBI?"

"They approached me and it sounded better than being holed up in some law office."

"No regrets?"

"None professionally."

The waiter arrived with their food and Natalie's questioning ceased for a time. They focused on the excellent food in front of them. But then Natalie piped up again. "Any personal regrets?"

Paolo studied the wine in his glass, then he met her eyes. "Yes. And that's all I'm going to say about that."

Natalie touched her glass to his. "Touché." After an awkward silence, the talk turned to other subjects. Eventually, they realized they were the last patrons in the restaurant. "We should go back," said Paolo. He called the waiter and settled the bill.

The crowds in the street had thinned and the air was cooler. When they reached the hotel, Natalie was giggling about something and twisted her ankle as they walked toward the elevator. Paolo caught her before she fell. "Are you okay?"

"I'm wonderful," she announced.

"You're drunk."

"So what? I feel better than I've felt in a long time."

Paolo bundled her into the elevator and pressed the button for their floor. "At least you're not a mean drunk."

"Mean? No, I'm very nice," she giggled.

Paolo swiped the key card and opened the door. One of Natalie's heels snapped, throwing her off balance and straight into Paolo's arms. "Eeoww!"

"Did you have to wear these shoes? The heel is as high as the Eiffel Tower."

"They're cute and sexy," protested Natalie. She looped her arms around Paolo's neck.

He backed her against the door and stared down at her. "That's not the only thing that's cute and sexy," he said in a low voice.

"Shut up and kiss me!"

Paolo didn't wait for a second invitation. He leaned down and covered her mouth with his own. Natalie moaned and pressed her body closer.

After what seemed like an eternity, Paolo broke the kiss. "We shouldn't do this."

"Why not?" asked Natalie. "You don't want me?"

"Oh, I want you, all right. But I'm responsible for you until we get home."

Natalie clutched the lapels of his jacket and pouted. "I don't want you to be responstible for me. I want you to make love to me!"

Paolo closed his eyes. Common sense versus lust. The age-old battle. Why did the right thing have to be so different from what he really wanted? He should simply march her into her room, lock the door, and then take a cold shower. But he knew that would never happen. He opened his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Are you sure? Because if we do this, there's no going back. You're mine. I won't share you with another man, even if he is your husband."

Even in her state of inebriation, Natalie recognized that Paolo was giving her an out. He was being a gentleman. It seemed like a quaint, old-fashioned term and one she would never have applied to the man standing in front of her. But somehow it made her want him that much more.

She began pushing his jacket off his shoulders. "I'm positive. Now are we going to stand around all night?"

Before things got too out of control, Paolo reached behind Natalie to lock the door. His jacket fell to the floor. He grabbed the hem of Natalie's top and whisked it over her head. Shoes and belts landed on the floor as they stumbled and kissed their way toward Paolo's room. He shed his shoulder rig on the couch before sweeping Natalie up and carrying her to his bed.

They fell down together. Natalie fumbled with his shirt buttons while he released the front clasp of her bra. Her breasts tumbled out. "Ah, cara. You are beautiful."

In seconds, the rest of their clothes were stripped away and they were naked in each other's arms. Everything beyond that room - every lie, every disappointment, every betrayal - was forgotten.

Chapter 18


Natalie awoke from her nap, cold and disoriented. The airline blanket had slipped off her shoulders and bunched in her lap. The gunshot wound on her left arm throbbed. She rubbed it absently while studying the man beside her. The laptop was closed, as were his eyes. She assumed he was asleep.

His square jaw was darkened by stubble, giving him a slightly dangerous air. Who am I kidding? He is a dangerous man. He boarded an international flight with two weapons on his person. That air marshal barely glanced when he declared them at the gate. Who knows what he has in his carry-on.

Natalie shuddered. Paolo had turned out to be a more complex man than she would ever have imagined. He was honest, hardworking and dedicated to his career and close to his family. Certainly more than she could say of her fugitive husband.

Paolo exuded confidence and charm, not to mention sensuality. He was the kind of man women wanted to know better and other men could never hope to equal.

She leaned over to retrieve the antibiotic ointment from her purse. It was hours before they would reach Prague. Might as well try to get comfortable and go back to sleep.

She was fumbling with the cap when a hand reached across her and took the tube. "Let me help you." Paolo squirted some ointment on her arm. Natalie winced as he slowly massaged it in.

"It'll get better."

"I thought you were asleep," she mumbled. She was fascinated by his long fingers working on her arm.

He gave a little smirk. "I always keep one eye open."

She looked up and was held captive by hi's hypnotic blue eyes. Her mouth went dry as she forgot about the stinging in her arm. Paolo trailed his fingers down her bare arm, raising more goosebumps. He picked up her left hand and rubbed the tan line where her wedding rings were noticeably absent.

"Where's your rock?"

"I was cleaning the bathroom when you barged in. Then you hustled me out before I remembered my rings. Why would you notice that?"

"It's my job. Watch people, observe behavior, catalogue details. However small."

Natalie regarded him for a moment. "Is that what I am? A job?"

Paolo didn't respond, but kept holding her hand.

"What else do you observe about me?" She wasn't sure she wanted to know. He might say she had bad judgment, that she'd made a huge mistake in marrying Jeff or that she was stubborn and opinionated. She reached up with her other hand to stifle a yawn.

"You need to rest. We hit the ground running when we land." He lifted the armrest between them. "You can stretch out here and I'll move over there." He indicated the empty seats across the aisle.

Natalie did as he suggested and he tucked the blanket around her. She glanced up at him, her eyelids heavy. "Don't go too far."

"Never, cara." He pressed a light kiss to her forehead.

Paolo moved across the aisle with his laptop. He watched Natalie for several minutes. Finally, he opened the computer to check for updates from Miami. Sure enough, one was there. He opened it and a picture popped up.

From your description, we believe the man is Mtumbo Sobanji, forty-seven-year-old Nigerian national who's lived in the US for the past twenty years. Came over on a student visa and never left. Runs a construction business and a couple of restaurants in Miami with his brother and cousin. Had some tax problems five years ago. Appears clean on the surface, but the cousin was involved in an identity theft ring at one point. Eight months ago Sobanji took out a business loan from Jeffrey Jernigan's bank.

Paolo skimmed over the rest. No doubt Sobanji was the mastermind of the identity theft ring. Jernigan was supplying him with info and when he didn't deliver, Sobanji arranged the break-in at Natalie's to try and retrieve it. Somehow Sobanji had followed them to the airport and managed to get on the same flight.

Paolo thought back over their arrival at the airport. It was so crowded there was no way he could do a thorough surveillance. His goal had been to make this flight. Sobanji probably had lookouts at the airport who alerted him when he and Natalie arrived.

He replied to Miami:

Distraction needed to get Mrs. Jernigan away from airport.

He watched Natalie until a soft ding announced a new message fifteen minutes later.

Czech Secret Service will escort you to Interpol office. Sobanji will be detained at Customs. Some passport and/or visa problems will be uncovered.

Paolo breathed a sigh of relief and forwarded the info to Chuck He knew the marshal would check his e-mail before the flight landed.

**
Prague-Ruzyne Airport

The long flight landed without incident. Paolo glanced toward the front of the plane. "This'll take awhile." People leapt up from their seats and opened the overhead bins. Cell phones were pressed to ears and the noise level increased. Chuck caught his eye and nodded as he retrieved his bag. Sobanji was already on his cell and took on notice.

Finally, passengers began moving toward the front of the jet. Paolo and Natalie hung back until only the flight crew remained. Chuck was waiting for them in the forward galley and the three of them entered the jetway. When they reached Customs, they saw Sobanji waving his arms wildly. Two Customs officials pulled him from line and escorted him down a short hallway. Paolo and Chuck exchanged a satisfied smile.

"What was that for?" asked Natalie. "Are you guys happy to be in the Czech Republic?"

"Someone's cranky this morning," said Paolo. "Are you like this every morning?"

"You're not going to tell me, are you?"

"A problem was averted."

Natalie frowned. "Hmm . . . sounds like government double-speak."

"You'll feel like yourself once you get some caffeine in your system."

"Whatever. Can we just get on with this shit?"

An intimidating man with a "Chief Inspector" name tag steered them down a long corridor and into an elevator marked "Private." "This opens into the underground garage. Interpol and the Czech Secret Service are waiting for you."

A chill ran up Natalie's spine. The man's tone made it sound like she was the suspect. She blew out a sigh. Nausea and dizziness threatened to swamp her. She clutched at Paolo's arm. "I'm scared," she whispered.

"Don't lose it now. In a few hours this will be over." Paolo had received an e-mail confirming that tonight, or tomorrow at the latest, Jeff was being extradited to Berlin. German justice was swifter than the American legal system. The evidence against him was irrefutable and Jeffrey Jernigan might never set foot in the United States again. Paolo thought it best not to reveal that to Natalie. She was an emotional basket-case.

**

Interpol office, Prague

"What are we waiting for?" asked Natalie. She wrapped her hands around a large cup of coffee that an efficient secretary had placed on the table in front of her.

"They're bringing him up now," said Paolo.

The door on the other side of the one-way mirror opened and Jeffrey Jernigan shuffled in, accompanied by an armed guard. He was clad in a blue jumpsuit and his hands and feet were shackled. The guard pulled out the chair and motioned for him to sit at the table.

"Jeff!" gasped Natalie. She stared sadly and shook her head. "I can't believe it's come to this."

Two large, hairy agents who resembled gorillas came in and sat down. They began asking questions, but Jeff either said nothing or gave some sarcastic answer. He even laughed a couple of times.

Natalie's expression changed from sadness to utter disbelief. "This is not the man I married. This is a total stranger."

Eventually, the agents gave up and left the room. Jeff turned toward the window and smirked.

"I am NOT believing this. I'd like to shake some sense into that man!"

"Don't worry. You're up next," said Paolo. He had already coached Natalie on possible ways to approach Jeff that might elicit information.

Natalie stared coldly at Paolo. "Bring it on."

**

A second armed guard opened the door and followed Natalie into the room. He took up a position behind her while the other guard stood by the door.

"Natalie!" Clearly, Jernigan was surprised by this tactic. He tried to stand up.

"SIT DOWN!" barked the guards and drew their weapons. "You are not to approach her."

"She's my wife!" protested Jeff.

SMACK! Natalie slapped Jeff across the face. Jeff was stunned and so was Paolo in the other room. "I did not tell her to do that," he told the officials.

"What the hell have you done? Have you lost your mind? You're sitting here being a smart ass when you're being charged with murder! Oh, and let's not forget the identity theft and all your other sins. Do you understand the trouble you're in here and at home? Well, do you?" she demanded.

Adrenaline and far too much caffeine had Natalie wound to a fever pitch. "Don't you have anything to say for yourself? You had a good job. We had a good life. But you threw it all away! I guess being a bank vice-president wasn't enough for you."

Natalie paused, but Jeff said nothing. He hung his head and actually appeared contrite. Frustrated, Natalie slammed her fist on the table. "ANSWER ME!"

Jeff looked up and noticed the bandage on her arm. "Oh yeah, let me tell you about my arm. Thugs broke into our house looking for something YOU stole and I got shot in the process. That's been a real picnic. And I had to take a leave-of-absence from work to try to help the FBI figure out what the hell you're doing."

"It wasn't supposed to be like this. Things, well, things got out of control. I did this for us, Natalie. So we could retire early and travel, do all the things you wanted to do."

"LIES, ALL LIES! You did this for YOU. You are a greedy, selfish, arrogant bastard!"

Natalie waited to see if, or how, Jeff might respond. She glared angrily at him. "Oh, Mr. Big Talker has nothing to say? Well, I have this to say. You are a sorry excuse for a husband. Thank God I didn't have kids with you. I would hate for my child to have a murderer and a cheat for a father!"

**

The interrogations went on for hours. In the end, Jeff gave up some details, but overall showed little remorse for his crime spree.

"Could I see my wife again?" he asked.

The agent got up and left the room. He came to where Natalie and Paolo were and looked to Natalie for her answer.

"There's nothing left to say."

"Mrs. Jernigan, please understand that he's being flown to Berlin tonight. It might be a long time before you could see him again."

"I understand. I never want to see him again. He deserves everything coming to him."

When the agent told Jeff, he looked at the window, but his expression was blank.

**

Marriott Hotel, Prague

"I'm sorry, sir. Two single rooms were not available, so we upgraded you to a suite on the tenth floor. Here are your key cards. Elevators are to your left."

"Thank you. What are the restaurants in this area?"

The smiling clerk reached under the counter for a pamphlet. Paolo glanced to the lobby where Natalie sat immobile in an overstuffed chair. It had been a hell of a day for her.

Paolo thanked the clerk and went over to Natalie. "Come on. Let's go upstairs." Natalie stood and numbly followed him to the elevators. When they exited on the tenth floor she asked, "Which one am I in?"

Paolo hesitated. "We're together."

Natalie gave him a surprised look. "What?"

"It's a suite. Two bedrooms, sitting area in between."

"Oh."

"Here it is." Paolo opened the door and stood aside for her to enter.

"I'm so tired I can't think straight," said Natalie.

"You need food. All you've had today is about ten cups of coffee and a couple of sodas."

"Gee, thanks for reminding me. Now I need to pee again."

"Why don't we shower, change clothes, and then find something to eat?"

"Fine. If I'm not out in twenty minutes, I may be asleep."

Chapter 17



"We're going where?" Natalie stood in her open front door, a stunned look on her face.

"Prague. And we don't have much time. If you don't believe me, you can call my boss," said Paolo. He held out his cell phone. "But that would royally piss him off."

"No, I believe you. It's just . . I don't know. I'm shocked. Is Jeff okay?"

Mentally, Paolo cringed. "Fine. But he's not talking."

She looked so confused and vulnerable. Paolo wanted to draw her into his arms and comfort her.

"Come on. We're on a tight schedule." Paolo pushed past Natalie and closed the door. She seemed rooted to her spot in the foyer, staring at the tile.

Paolo grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look up at him. "Natalie! Get a grip. We'll get
through this together, okay?"

"Yeah."

He took her hand and pulled her down the hall toward the bedroom. "Do you have a small carry-on?"

"In the guest room closet."

"Bring enough clothes for several days."

** Miami International Airport

"This is the final boarding call for Lufthansa flight 4253, nonstop service to Prague, at Gate 32. Please have your ticket and boarding pass out and ready for the gate attendant."

Paolo and Natalie sprinted to the gate, the last passengers to arrive. A guy resembling a pro football player paced back and forth. He had a cell phone to his ear and repeatedly looked at his watch . When he saw Paolo and Natalie, he snapped the phone shut and scowled.

"Sabbatini?"

Paolo handed the air marshal their passports. "Sorry. There was a big wreck on the expressway."

"Chuck Coleman." The marshal examined the passports, nodded, and returned them to Paolo. "Shake a leg. The pilot's busting my balls to close the door."

They hustled down the jetway and onto the plane. Chuck took a seat in the middle of the plane and Paolo and Natalie made their way to seats near the back. Natalie took the window seat and Paolo dropped into the aisle seat after stowing their carry-ons in the overhead bin.

"Will it ever end?" sighed Natalie. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Paolo glanced at her. Thank goodness she'd changed from her tank top and shorts into jeans and a blouse. He would have hated to be distracted by all that smooth, exposed skin on this ten-hour overnight flight.

In the galley behind them, a tray crashed to the floor. Natalie's eyes flew open and held his gaze.

"I have to be honest. It's going to be a long, painful process. As much as the FBI wants to get their hands on him, murder charges take precedence over identity theft and embezzlement. Once the Germans have him, they won't let go."

"He really killed those people? They have proof?"

Even now, Paolo realized she was trying to find something redeeming in this whole sad affair. Maybe that was how it was when you loved someone. The thought disturbed him on some level he couldn't explain at the moment.

"He tried to cover his tracks, but one print was lifted from the inside of Monika Sterne's purse. It was Jeff's."

Natalie turned to look out the window, but not before a single tear escaped from the corner of her eye.

** Two hours later

Dinner was over and the cabin lights had been dimmed. Some passengers were engrossed in the movie while others tried to get comfortable enough to sleep. Natalie was turned toward the window, apparently not wanting to talk anymore. Paolo checked e-mail on his laptop. Chuck had been by once on his way to the bathroom. The two men nodded slightly at each other.

Now another passenger moved down the aisle. A large black man in a business suit. This was the third time he'd been to the back of the plane. Each time he made eye contact with Paolo.

Something was not right. Paolo thought about the Ten Most Wanted list, but this guy was not on it.

Natalie stirred. "I need to go to the bathroom."

"Now?"

She frowned. "Yes, now. Is that a problem?"

"No problem." Paolo closed his laptop and stood to let her out. He rolled his shoulders to relieve the tension and kept his eyes toward the bathrooms.

A door opened and the mystery man exited. Paolo pretended to need an item from the overhead bin as the man returned to his seat. He noted where he was sitting - right across from the air marshal. There was no way he could talk to Chuck without arousing the man's suspicion. He would have to e-mail Miami with a description to see if anything turned up on him.

Another five minutes passed and Natalie was still in the bathroom. Paolo went and tapped lightly on the door.

A flight attendant approached him. "Is your girlfriend ill? She looked rather pale."

"She's not - the words my girlfriend almost slipped out - a good flier. Bad stomach."

The flight attendant smiled. "My husband has the same problem. Perhaps some ginger ale would help." She opened a drawer and pulled out a cold can.

"Thank you." Then Paolo had an idea. "Could you do me a favor?"

**

"Here's your Diet Coke, sir," said the flight attendant.

Chuck Coleman looked up from his hunting and fishing magazine. "But I didn't order . . ."

The flight attendant leaned down and whispered, "From the gentleman in seat 65."

Chuck saw a piece of paper sticking out of the napkin and nodded. "Thanks. I was getting kinda thirsty."

Chapter 16 - Prague, Czech Republic

"May I help you, sir?"

"Checking in. Name's Gary Franklin."

"One moment, please." The clerk, a middle-aged man in a conservative black suit, consulted his computer screen. Jeff tried nonchalantly to scan the guests moving through the chrome-and-glass lobby of the upscale hotel that catered to business travelers.

A slight frown marred the clerk's face. Was there a problem with the name he'd given? He was using the fake passport he'd lifted off Monika Sterne.

"Ah, yes. Here we go." The clerk ripped a form from the printer underneath the desk and slid it toward Jeff. "If you would just sign here, Mr. Franklin. Your room is ready."

With great concentration, Jeff signed the registration form, attempting to disguise his handwriting.

"Very good, sir. Here is your key card. Is there anything else I can do for you?" The clerk smiled warmly.

"Uh, yes. Has a Mr. Kurt Adamson checked in yet? He's a business associate."

The clerk again consulted the computer. "I'm afraid not, sir. Would you care to leave a message for Mr. Adamson?"

"No . . . thanks. I'll catch up with him later." Jeff picked up his bag and moved toward the bank of elevators. He entered the elevator and noted that the man continued to stare at him. A sudden wave of apprehension washed over him. In his gut he knew something was wrong. Either Kurt was detained - his mind flashed back to the accident scene - or he'd reneged on their plan.

Jeff ran the back of his hand over his perspiring forehead. Startled, he saw that the cheap black dye job he'd done on his hair was rubbing off. Fifty kilometers outside Prague, he'd abandoned his rental car at a Eurail station. He found a pharmacy in the village and bought a package of women's hair dye. The teenage girl working the counter sported purple hair so she didn't seem to find his purchase unusual. He walked back to the train station, applied the dye in the bathroom, and took the train into Prague.

The elevator opened on the tenth floor. An elderly couple waiting to get on gave him a wary glance. The woman mumbled something to the man who looked more sharply at him.

Once inside the room, Jeff pulled out his cell phone and tried Kurt's number. It rang and rang and rang. Finally, someone answered. "Hello."

Jeff froze in shock. It was not Kurt, but a man with a gruff American accent.

"Jeffrey Jernigan?"

Jeff dropped the phone on the carpet and stomped on it. "Shit!" He went to the tall windows beside the bed and pushed aside the drapes. The room overlooked a verdant city park. People lounged on benches or strolled among the well-tended flower beds. There was no obvious signs of police presence, but someone was onto him.

The room suddenly felt too small and too hot despite the air conditioning. Jeff found a cap in his bag touting the Czech national soccer team and slapped it on his head. He picked up the ruined phone and slipped it in his pocket. He would dispose of it somewhere outside. Right now he had to get out of this room and think.

** Miami

"Sabbatini, talk to me."

Paolo's boss, Cyril Greene, motioned him into his cluttered office. He rubbed his upper chest. "Claudia, where are my damn heart pills?" he bellowed at his executive assistant through the open door.

"Top right-hand drawer."

Greene yanked it open, rummaged around until he located the pills, then popped two in his mouth.

"You're only supposed to take one at a time, chided Claudia as she handed him a cup of water.

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one having this infernal pain."

She exchanged a look with Paolo as she walked out. "Let me know if I need to call 911."

Paolo opened a folder and placed it in front of Greene. "You sure you're okay, sir?"

"I will be as soon as those pills kick in. Now, what's all this?"

"Info downloaded from the flash drive recovered at the Jernigan residence. Bank and investment records, family info, even some medical records with some rather sensitive details of prominent Miami citizens. They are all clients of Jeffrey Jernigan's bank."

"Excellent. Now if we could only get our hands on that snake. I swear, if it's the last thing I do I'm gonna nail that son-of-a-bitch. He's the reason my second wife divorced me."

Claudia stuck her head in the door. "Excuse me, there's a call on line one from the Interpol office in Prague."

Greene grabbed the phone and barked, "Cyril Greene."

Paolo stood up to leave, but Greene waved him down. After five minutes, Greene ended the call. "Well, I'll be damned. Jernigan was apprehended at an ATM in Prague shortly after checking into a hotel under an assumed name. And he was carrying the gun believed to have killed the Sterne woman."

Paolo shook his head. "It's about time."

Greene slapped the top of his desk. "Damn straight! But there's a problem. He'll be extraditied to Germany in a few days to be questioned in the Sterne case. So far, he's said nothing. Clammed up tighter than Fort Knox. The only way we'll get any answers is to have a face-to-face with the slippery Mr. Jeffrey Jernigan. Your passport current, Sabbatini?"

Greene knew damn well it was. It was a requirement for federal agents. "It's locked in my desk."

"Good, good. You'll take the wife with you. Let her have a go at him, you know, the 'wrath of a woman scorned.' Hell, I should know. Now let me make some arrangements." He picked up the phone and punched in a number.

Paolo schooled his face not to show the shock he felt. Take Natalie to Prague? This could be a huge mess.

"I need to get a man and a woman on a plane to Prague tonight." There was a pause. "No, they're not in body bags, you moron! One of my high-profile fugitives was nabbed and they're going to question him." Greene grabbed a pen and scribbled info on a post-it note. "That's more like it. Right. Got it."

He handed it to Paolo. "Confirmation numbers. Be at the Lufthansa counter at Miami International in ninety minutes. An air marshal will meet you there."

"I want answers from that piece-of-shit Jernigan."

Chapter 15

The elevator doors dinged open and Paolo and Natalie stepped into a dimly lit hallway. It was eerily quiet. Like a tomb. Natalie felt like she was being buried alive under a mountain of threats, suspicions, and innuendo.

She swallowed nervously and wiped her sweaty palms against her shorts. They walked to the end of the hall and turned left. Paolo stopped in front of room fifteen. He produced a set of keys and opened the door.

"You have fifteen of these rooms?" asked Natalie, her eyes darting around.

"We have a total of twenty. Sometimes we have a lot of bad people on hand."

The room was as dimly lit as the hallway. But through the one-way glass Natalie saw a prisoner in a fluorescent orange jumpsuit. He lay on a hard concrete bench built into the wall.

Paolo activated the microphone. "Adamson, stand up and face the window."

The prisoner swung his legs off the bench and stood. He slowly stretched and yawned as if waking up from a siesta on a tropical island.

"What is it? Feeding time at the zoo?" he sneered.

Natalie stared, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. "Oh . . . my . . . God. He looke just like Jeff. Maybe a bit taller." She continued to stare in disbelief.

"Kurt Adamson. Extradited yesterday, courtesy of the German Federal Police. Those cuts on his face and arms are from a car crash near the Czech border. He had no ID on him and was transported unconscious to a local hospital and fingerprinted. Imagine the authorities' surprise when he popped up on Interpol's list."

"And they thought it was Jeff," said Natalie.

"Correct. It was about the same time our people uncovered the existence of Jeff's twin brother."

Natalie sank dejected into a nearby chair. "But why didn't Jeff ever tell me about his brother?"

"There's no evidence to suggest that Jeff's adoptive parents even knew about the sibling. According to the court records, the birth mother was an alcoholic, in and out of rehab. She gave up Adamson in a private adoption. Apparently, she thought she could care for one baby, but not two. When that didn't work out, she went to another adoption agency and arranged another private adoption, hoping for more money than she received in the first one."

"How sad," said Natalie.

"It appears the adoptive parents in both cases were so eager for a baby that they didn't ask a lot of questions. Unfortunately, it happens in a lot of situations. We surmise that sometime in the last two to three years the brothers somehow found each other. Whether by design or accident, we don't know. But they soon discovered their mutual love of crime."

He paused and looked at Natalie. She was still watching as the man in the other room paced around. "I'm sorry. I know this is a lot to take in."

"HEY! When am I getting out of this shithole?" Adamson bellowed and slammed his fist against the glass.

Natalie flinched. "Please get me out of here."

Wordlessly, they left the room and Paolo locked up.

**

After Jeff calmed down, he pulled back onto the road. But fifteen minutes later he came upon a tow truck at an accident scene. Two burly guys who looked like lumberjacks were securing the remains of a demolished BMW. It was black - the same color Kurt said he would be driving.

Relax. This is Germany. There are thousands of black BMWs around here.

Jeff slowed and rubbernecked as much as he could without causing a wreck himself. There was no sign of the driver. Probably at the hospital . . . or morgue, he thought in alarm. He had no way of finding out. Besides, imagine the confusion and questions if he showed up at some emergency room looking for his twin brother.

**

It was early afternoon when Paolo returned Natalie to her house. The neighborhood was quiet. Husbands and fathers were at work and moms took tennis lessons while the kids were in school. The retirees huddled in their air-conditioned dens watching soap operas. Even the local dogs were snoozing in patches of shade.

"Where are they?" asked Natalie.

"Who?"

"My surveillance team."

"Around, but invisible."

"I guess that's comforting," she sighed. "So what now? Has this Adamson guy told you anything? I can't think of him as a brother-in-law."

"Not yet, but we'll lean on him until he spills." An ice cream truck drove slowly down the street playing a tinkling melody, but no one emerged from their cool homes to buy anything. "Come on, I'll do a walk-through, to be on the safe side."

They exited the car and trudged up the driveway. Whey they reached the garage, Natalie frowned. "I'm so tired of all this. Of hoodlums disrupting my life. I don't know how much more I can take." Then a tear escaped and rolled down her flushed cheek.

Oh man, I hate when women cry, thought Paolo. Without hesitation, he drew her into his arms and held her tightly.

"Come on, it'll be okay. Don't cry." His right hand stroked her short hair while he tried to ignore how good her slim body felt nestled against his.

When her sobs subsided, she pulled back and looked up into his face. Paolo was lost and he knew it.

"Natalie, cara," he sighed as his lips found hers. It was as good as Paolo had imagined and he'd imagined it every day since she'd come back into his life. He tried to pull her even closer, to absorb her into his soul. When he finally broke the kiss, he braced for a hard slap to the face.

"I'm sorry, Natalie. That was . . . "

"That was amazing!" She was as breathless as he was.

He smiled, slow and sexy. "Yes, it was." He bent his head for another kiss, forgetting for a moment his duty.

A rustling sound came from the corner of the garage. Paolo released Natalie as his right hand reached for his Glock.

"MEE-owww."

Natalie clapped a hand over her thudding heart. "Big Tom." The large feline strutted over and rubbed against Natalie's bare legs. "You naughty cat. You scared us," she chided.

She motioned to Paolo's gun. "I think you can put that away."

Paolo re-holstered the weapon. "I should thank him."

"Thank him?" Natalie bent over to scratch Big Tom's head.

"The brute saved me from going too far." He held Natalie's gaze for a long moment. "Natalie, you are a beautiful and intelligent woman. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't attracted to you."

Natalie turned away as more heat flooded her face. She concentrated on the cat. "I feel it, too. But I'm . . . married." She said the last word as if it was a distasteful thing.

Neither spoke. Then something caught Natalie's attention. "Hey, what's this?" She retrieved a small object from the mouth of an open bag of potting soil.

A flash drive. She held it up. "You think this is what those sleaze-bags were after?"

Paolo's eyebrows shot up. "I'd bet good money on it."

Chapter 14

Natalie heard kids running and a dog barking. Must be a dream. I don't have kids or a dog.She struggled to open her eyes. Pale yellow walls greeted her. Where am I? My bedroom's blue.

She sat straight up in bed, her head reeling. Paolo's sister's house. Then the memory of last night and the ugly accusations about Jeff crowded into her memory.

I have to get out of here.

**

Paolo strode to the coffee maker for a much-needed shot of caffeine. Sofia and Serena sat at the kitchen table slurping up spoonfuls of cereal. He did a double-take. They were wearing swimsuits, flip-flops, and their birthday jewelry. "You guys going to school today?"

"No," they giggled. "Teacher work day."

"Good thing. I didn't think that matched the dress code."

There was more giggling, then their eyes grew wide. "Look, it's Natalie!" said Serena.

"Are you on a date?" asked Sofia, glancing from Natalie to Paolo.

"Uh . . ." began Natalie.

"Some men were working at her house. It was too noisy," answered Paolo smoothly. He pushed Natalie down into a chair and placed a cup of strong coffee in her hands.

"Oh. Okay. Wanna go shopping and swimming with us today?" they asked eagerly.

Angela entered the kitchen with a basket of folded laundry. "Natalie probably wants to go check on her house."

"Bummer," said Sofia.

"Sounds like fun, but I really need to go home," said Natalie. "Maybe another time."

"Girls, go put on your shorts and take Roscoe out. We need to get moving," said Angela. They jumped up from the table and ran down the hall.

"We'll be out of your hair in a sec," said Angela, looking at Paolo. He nodded absently as he took in Natalie's rumpled appearance. It was obvious she'd slept in her clothes and her wound appeared to be bleeding again.

There was a knock at the back door and Paolo's grandmother entered.

"Nonna, this is Natalie."

The elderly woman's gaze swept over Natalie and she slowly smiled. "Ah, Nat-a-lie," she said, emphasizing each syllable. "Buon giorno."

"Buon giorno, Signora," answered Natalie.

Paolo had a rushed conversation with his grandmother in Italian. "Nonna says she is very sorry for your troubles and that you should eat a good breakfast."

"Uh, coffee's enough. But I should get a shower. Then can you take me home?" Natalie pushed back her chair, but wobbled as she stood up.

Paolo reached out and grabbed her shoulders. "Come on. We need to change that dressing." He propelled her back to the guest room and into the bathroom.

"I'm fine. Really," Natalie protested. "I'll only be a couple of minutes."

Paolo rummaged in the closet and found a pair of shorts and a tee shirt. "Here, these are Angela's, but she won't mind."

"Thanks."

"If you're not out in five minutes, I'm coming in," Paolo threatened.

"That's government harrassment." But as she closed the door, Natalie found that thought strangely appealing.

**

"Apply this antibiotic twice a day. It should do the trick," said the ER nurse.

After showering and dressing, Paolo had inspected her wound and pronounced it infected. He'd whisked her back to the hospital, but not before his grandmother stuffed her with Italian sausage, scrambled eggs, and toast.

They left the ER and Paolo drove Natalie home. They were silent for a while, then Natalie spoke up. "You grandmother was very nice."

"She lives with my parents, literally around the corner from Ange. She always feels the need to feed everyone in sight."

"What's this?" asked Natalie as they pulled into her driveway. A van sat at the end of the street and an SUV was parked in front of the house. "I watch TV. I know surveillance when I see it."

Paolo gave her an amused look. "Maybe we should hire you."

"No, seriously. Am I under house arrest?"

"Of course not. It's protection. Those punks may come back. It's standard operating procedure in high-profile cases."

Natalie shook her head in disgust. "Great. So I'm high profile."

"Your husband. Not you. It's either these guys or go into protective custody."

"Why didn't you put me in a safe house last night?"

"Both safe houses were filled with, shall we say, less-than-model citizens waiting to testify in drug and money laundering cases. Would you have prefered that?"

Natalie blew out a sigh. "Hardly."

There was a rap on Paolo's window. A tall, striking brunette in a black pantsuit stood there. He lowered the window. "Hey, Kelsey Any problems?"

She was all business. "Is your phone on? Greene's been trying to reach you." Paolo checked. "Dead battery."

"Go back to headquarters. We'll watch Mrs. Jernigan."

"Fine. Give me a minute." Kelsey regarded them for a moment, then returned to the SUV.

Paolo turned to face Natalie. "Don't leave the house and do whatever they say. It's for your own good."

"My own good. You sound like my father," said Natalie as she got out of the car.

**
The Next Day

"Why didn't you tell us about your brother-in-law?" asked Paolo.

Natalie was back in the FBI conference room. The ultra-efficient Kelsey had deposited her there twenty minutes ago. She was so familiar with it now that she could point out various stains on the carpet.

"Kevin? What about him?"

"Not your sister's husband. Jeff's brother. His twin."

Natalie stared at Paolo in disbelief. "What are you talking about? Jeff doesn't have a brother. Well, not anymore. He had an older brother, Eric. But Eric drowned when he was three."

"Did you know your husband was adopted?"

"Of course. It was no secret. After Eric died, his mother couldn't have any more kids, so they adopted. Are you going to tell me what this is about?"

"Seeing is believing," said Paolo. "Come on."

He took her to the elevator at the end of the hall and punched the button for the sub-basement.

"Where are we going?"

"Holding cells."

Natalie began to shake. "Why?"

Paolo gripped her painfully by the upper arms. "You're not in trouble, but you do need to prepare yourself."