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“You aren’t,” Luna assured her. “Today’s activity is about group bonding. Everyone needs to feel safe and comfortable. You can manage that even if your estranged husband mysteriously fails to show up.” Luna grinned at her. “Besides, I want you to meet my chef. Eduardo is adorable and I think he’s perfect for you.”
Sophie stopped on the path. “How would that look? I’m pretending to be married. I can’t be seen flirting with your chef.”
Luna kept her smile in place. “Your marriage is on the rocks, remember?Andit’s fake. Come on, it’s not like your pretend husband is going to show up and catch you flirting with another guy.”
Point taken, so Sophie switched tactics. “Thanks, but I didn’t come here for romance.” Romance was not a thing she spent time contemplating. She definitely didn’t have headspace for it when she was chasing the biggest story of her career, so far. “Relationships take too much effort.” For the past five years, she’d kept her focus on her professional ambitions. Her love life was limited to the occasional casual fling.
“Tsk, tsk…all work and no play,” Luna said as she opened the door to the main building. It was a beautiful, timber-framed structure reminiscent of lodges in the national parks, but on a smaller scale. The cabins were miniature versions of it. The entire retreat had a rustic feel despite the luxurious amenities designed to make couples relax and enjoy. It really was brilliant planning on Luna’s part.
“Luna and Sophie. Good morning.” A woman in her mid-thirties rushed toward them. Her husband was right on her heels. Georgia and Max Tauck. They were one of the couples that Sophie had met the evening before.
“Good morning,” Luna returned and gave Sophie a subtle nudge.
“Yes, Hello again,” Sophie said with a pasted-on smile.
“A man arrived a few minutes ago, and he’s looking for you,” Georgia said to Sophie. “He’s in the dining room.”
Sophie experienced one horrible second of terror, assuming the worst—that Wilson had somehow found her and sent one of his henchmen to deal with her. The museum director wasn’t likely to come after her himself. He moved in high society and kept his hands clean, hobnobbing regularly with the mayor and the police chief. It was why her story had to be unimpeachable before it could go to print. The man had buckets of connections in high places, and none of them would be easy to convince that he was behind the latest designer street drug for sale all over town. And Wilson also had the resources to hire henchmen to go after anyone putting his operation at risk—like her, Julia, and Helen. Could she outrun or outsmart whoever was in the dining room?
She was considering trying the first when she spotted Owen McCormick striding toward her. His sandy blond hair flopped over his forehead and his short, neatly trimmed beard looked the same as always. The expression on his handsome face, though, was totally different from what she’d normally expect. She’d never seen him look so serious—focused even—not once in the years she’d known him. She was processing what that might mean when his expression suddenly altered, becoming the cocky grin she associated with him.
“Hey, honey,” he said as he reached her and brushed her cheek with a kiss. “I made it after all.” He was close, close enough that she could smell the fresh, spicy scent of his cologne. It was his usual scent, and every time she smelled it, she wondered how the former SEAL could afford something that smelled so expensive.
“Owen.” She kept her voice carefully neutral since they had an audience who were leaning in to catch every word. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
He took her hand, lacing their fingers together, and turned to Luna and the other couple. He was all casual nonchalance and good humor as she introduced him to the others. But what was he doing there? Had something happened to Helen and Julia? Had he been sent to tell her?
“Let me show you our cabin, sweetheart,” she said when there was a gap in the conversation. “And get you settled.” She needed a moment alone with him to ask the questions pinging around in her head. Without giving him a chance to respond, she tugged on his arm to get him moving.
To an observer, it might look like she was anxious to give him a private welcome. Her mind went in that direction for a half-second, too. He was attractive, no doubt about it. But, nope. She would not think about kissing Owen. Been there, done that. Remembering their one and only kiss made her increase her pace like she could outrun the memory and the fear that was welling up inside her about why he was at the retreat. Seeming to understand what she was feeling, Owen lengthened his stride and squeezed her hand.
The second they reached the cabin and were inside, she rounded on him. “What the hell are you doing here?”
TWO
His eyes took in the cabin’s interior before answering. Queen-sized bed, loveseat situated in front of a wood-burning fireplace, tasteful art on the walls, lots of natural light. Laidback luxury. And shit for security purposes.
“Are Julia and Helen okay?” Sophie demanded, staring him in the eyes. Her hands were planted on her hips, accentuating her curvy figure. Her ponytail was still swinging from her movements but worry formed a crease across her lovely brow.
“They’re fine. Worried about you,” he said.
“Thank goodness.” Her posture relaxed slightly.
“You missed your morning check-in,” he reminded her. He’d gotten a call from Ethan within fifteen minutes of the missed communication and had been on the road ten minutes later to Sophie’s location. Worry had churned in his gut for the entire drive, imagining all the things that might have happened to her. He was plenty familiar with her intrepid nature. She was fearless, but smart, too. If she didn’t check in, there must be a reason. His mind had naturally gone to the worst-case scenario. Seeing her alive and well had been a huge relief.
“My phone’s dead. I think it’s the charger.” She waved to where the phone sat on the nightstand.
“I’ll let them know.” He pulled out his burner and sent off a text to Ethan, Helen, and Julia assuring them that Sophie was safe and well. His phone pinged with immediate responses. Now that that was taken care of, he had to get Sophie to a more secure location. “Suitcase in here?” he asked as he opened the closet door. Sure enough, a purple bag sat on the floor. He grabbed the handle and pulled it out.
“What are you doing?” She strode across the space.
“You need to pack. You’re not staying here.” Predictably, her mouth opened to argue. He continued talking before she could say anything. “This place isn’t secure. I strolled into the lodge, and no one asked me who I was, but they were all happy to point me toward where you were going to be.” Ethan had briefed him on the retreat and Sophie’s cover story there. All Owen had had to do was introduce himself as her husband and no one questioned his presence.
“This is the perfect place for me to be.” She gestured around her.
“This cabin doesn’t even have a lock on the door,” he pointed out. No way was he letting her stay.
“We’re in an isolated location. Seriously, hardly anyone even knows this place exists.”
