2 Chapter 2: Oliver Barton

Natalie's head spun. She'd met him at a Chateau in the South of France. The evening had been an elegant party to commemorate the unveiling of a magnificent bronze owned by her cousin, The Honorable Bradley Gilford. The work had been commissioned to immortalize his champion show jumper. When she'd laid eyes on the tall, powerfully built, dark-haired, brown-eyed stranger, she'd insisted Bradley introduce her.

"That's Oliver Barton. He's a rolling stone," Bradley had warned. "A dashing one, I'll admit, but he's still a rolling stone."

"I just want to meet him, not marry him," she'd quipped. "Besides, I like living dangerously."

"Yes, I know, and I have to assume that's why you shunned your family's connections and became an insurance investigator."

"I find the work fun. Now please tell me about him."

"As I said, his name is Oliver Barton, and he's government connected, though God only knows what he does for them. A diplomat maybe, possibly Special Branch. I really have no idea."

But Natalie had no interest Oliver's job. She just wanted to meet the man who epitomized the phrase, tall, dark and handsome.

After a lengthy conversation that she never wanted to end, Oliver had guided her on the terrace, and under the stars he'd clutched her hair and devoured her mouth in an all-consuming kiss. From that moment her body belonged to him. A short time later so did her heart. In the weeks that followed he had taken her on a journey of sexual awakening. Fur-lined cuffs, blindfolds, ropes, and other decadent tools of his tantalizing torment had made her gasp, whimper, beg and bleat, and cry out in euphoric ecstasy.

"There's living dangerously, then there's living dangerously," she panted as they reached the edge of the woods.

"Excuse me?"

"The night Bradley introduced us he scolded me for becoming an insurance investigator. I told him liked living dangerously. I had no clue."

"Do you hear that?"

"The last time you made a comment along those lines bullets started flying through the -"

"Look," he said, cutting her off and pointing at the sky. "Come on."

He raced into the clearing to make his presence known, and as the helicopter began to descend, she hurried through the snow to join him.

"I'm sorry about all this," he said regretfully. "Truly, I am."

"Finally, the Oliver I know and love," she replied, surprised by his sudden change in attitude.

"I didn't mean to be brusque but I had to get us out of there. And I am sorry. I thought I'd left the drama behind me."

"What drama?"

"An operation."

"Are you a detective?"

"Not exactly -"

"Oh, my God," she gasped. "You're a spook. You're a bloody spook."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Several hours later in a magnificent country home behind tall walls and even taller gates, Natalie waited for Oliver.

When she'd arrived, she'd been shown into a bathroom and given fresh clothes by a kindly woman named Violet. The same woman then led her down the stairs and into an elegant living room. She'd left, closed the door behind her, and a few minutes later Oliver walked in with Violet behind him carrying a tray of tea, finger sandwiches, and scones.

"How are you?" Oliver asked as Violet left. "I meant what I said. I really am dreadfully sorry."

"I understand you couldn't say anything once we were picked up, but now that we're alone-Oliver, am I right? You have to tell me. Are you a spy?"

"It doesn't matter what I do," he said solemnly, a heavy frown crossing his brow, "what matters is I need to keep you safe. Until this blows over, you'll be in danger if you're with me. Natalie, you need to leave England for a while."

"What about my job and my flat?"

"All that will be taken care of. I know you've spent a great deal of time in the States. I'll arrange a job for you until this blows over. New York, L.A. Anywhere that appeals to you."

"How long will I have to be gone?"

"I hope only a few weeks, but I promise I'll be in touch the minute this situation is resolved."

"I can't believe this is happening."

"When the time is right, you'll be meeting me at an airport to fly off to a tropical island for a romantic reunion."

"Please don't say that if this is goodbye. Don't make a promise just because you think you need to."

"I never make a promise I don't fully intend to keep."

"Sorry," she said with a sigh, "I do know that. I'm flustered."

"Natalie, I'm not supposed to become emotionally entangled, but I am."

"Oliver..." she breathed, fighting the hot tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "I, uh, me too."

"I need a promise from you."

"Anything."

"Be wary. Don't connect yourself to anyone suspect."

"What do you mean?"

"If someone offers you an opportunity you think might not be legit, walk away."

"I would never accept a dodgy job."

"Sometimes offers can be cloaked in respectability. Be careful. Promise me."

"I promise, Oliver, but don't keep me waiting too long. I might get bored and do something reckless."

"You'd better not. You know what will happen if you do."

"Promise?"

"Most definitely," he breathed, sliding his fingers into her hair, "and if you ever find yourself doubting me, remember this."

Tugging back her head, he pressed his lips against hers, and pouring out all the love he held in his heart he consumed her mouth, kissing her with a fervent passion that turned her knees weak and set her heart pounding...then he turned sharply and disappeared.