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you’ve hurt yourself,” he cried. “What happened?”
    Ethan’s mouth moved and words came out, but they sounded garbled, even to his own ears. Was he making sense? Somehow that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that Bart had come to take care of him.
    Just like always.
    Â 
    The sun was up when Nate pulled into Rachel’s driveway. Her house sat on a cliff overlooking the ocean a little south of Los Angeles. With one whole side made of glass, it was different—far more modern than the home of any other woman he knew. But Rachel was different, too. She tried to be so damn tough. In ways, she was tough. She could fight. She could play whatever part she needed to play. She’d gravitated tothe polar opposite of her sheltered upbringing and wielded a gun instead of the Good Book. But for all that, she didn’t have the ability to protect her heart. He’d never forget the night he’d come home to find her waiting in his bed.
    Working this closely together wasn’t a smart idea. He saw how she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention, could tell how she felt about him. Hell, she’d said as much when they were making love. What she wanted from him reminded him too much of Susan. He still heard from her on occasion and he knew that, in some ways, he’d never really be free of her or the memory of rushing to the hospital that cold January night….
    But Milt was adamant he take this assignment, so Nate would have to protect Rachel—not only from the Covenanters but from himself.
    â€œJust do it,” he said, and shoved the gearshift into Park.
    He was getting out to ring the bell when she appeared, wearing a simple peach-colored sundress beneath a cardigan sweater and carrying a small suitcase.
    â€œYou can’t take that case to Portal,” he said without a greeting. He didn’t recognize the label, but he didn’t need to know the designer to realize it had cost a bundle. “That’s a dead giveaway. You’re the wife of a cement contractor, not Paris Hilton.”
    â€œI’m aware of that. But I tossed my crappy luggage after the last job. It was completely shot. We’ll have to stop at a secondhand store along the way.”
    â€œWhat will you do with this one?”
    â€œShip it home,” she said with a shrug. “The clothes I wear when I’m not working are too sophisticated, too‘single woman supporting herself.’ The ones I wear on other jobs are too ‘I’ll do anything for my next fix.’ I need something in between if I’m going to build the illusion of a sweet wife who recently got married and is trying to eke out a productive life with her husband. So we would’ve had to do some shopping, anyway.”
    Maybe she needed additional clothes, but the dress she was wearing right now worked, he admitted grudgingly. The color brought out the golden tones in her hair and skin and contrasted nicely with the ice blue of her eyes. But he didn’t tell her that. He knew better than to lead her on and still kicked himself for not sending her home when she’d let herself into his condo six months ago.
    â€œThis is all, then?” he asked.
    â€œExcept for my computer.” She reached in to get the satchel she carried almost everywhere, but he stopped her.
    â€œLeave it behind.”
    â€œThat’s like asking me to leave my gun!”
    â€œNo, it’s not. Where we’re going, there probably won’t be Internet service. And when we need a computer, we can use mine.”
    â€œWhat about other gear?”
    He motioned toward the truck. “I’ve got everything we might need.”
    â€œFine,” she muttered, and he put her bag in the truck while she locked the house.
    Rachel was seven years his junior, but today she looked even younger. With her hair pulled into a messy bun and minimal makeup, she could pass for twenty.