he clenched his teeth and rode out the pain and nausea.
With fumbling fingers, he managed to extract his cell phone from his pocket.
“No.” Auggie snatched it out of Sean’s hand. “Not unless Natalie says it’s okay.”
Dumbfounded, Sean could only stare.
“I heard my name.” Natalie reentered the room. “What’s up?”
“He was trying to call out.” Tossing her the cell phone, Auggie gave Sean another baleful glare.
“Who are you calling, Sean?”
He could barely answer. “Corbett.”
“Why?”
“I need to find a doctor.”
“I know a good one.” Natalie and Auggie exchanged a look. “Why bother Corbett? We don’t work for him.”
Vision wavering, Sean swallowed. At this point, if Auggie had announced he was a brain surgeon, Sean wouldn’t have cared. “But I do—er, did. Let me call him.”
“What’s wrong with him?” Auggie spoke to Natalie as if Sean wasn’t there.
“He hurt his foot. I don’t think it’s broken.”
“Give. Me. The. Phone.” Sean gritted out the words.
Without hesitation, Natalie tossed it to him. “Knock yourself out.”
He punched in the speed-dial code. A second later, Corbett answered.
“I need the name of a doctor.”
“What? Have you found Natalie?”
Sean answered in the affirmative, filling Corbett in on the details. He ended with his foot injury.
“Sean, ask Natalie. She’ll probably have the best name. SIS has their own people and she’s been working in that area the last two years.”
While he’d been sequestered up in the Highlands, playing dead.
“Point taken.” He sounded churlish, he knew. “At least give me a name.”
“Very well.” Corbett sighed. “Contact Dr. Pachla.”
“Thanks.” Sean ended the call and dropped the phone back into his pocket.
A half smile on her full lips, Natalie watched him. “Let me guess. He told you Dr. Pachla.”
Reluctantly, Sean nodded. Even that slight movement brought him pain. “Can you contact him? Now?”
She looked at Auggie.
Smiling, Auggie nodded. “He’s already on his way.”
Sean leaned his head back against the wall. He must have passed out, because the next thing he knew, he heard the sound of bells tinkling.
Natalie and the giant were standing close together, talking in voices too low for Sean to hear.
“Someone’s here,” Sean muttered. “Maybe the doctor.”
“Or a customer. Just one moment,” Auggie said, disappearing into the front of the shop.
When he returned a moment later, a tall, elegantly handsome blond man followed him. Something about him looked familiar, though Sean knew he hadn’t met the man before.
When the doctor saw Natalie, his aristocratic features lit up. “Nat!”
“Dennie!” Natalie ran to him and hugged him. An intimate body hug with full frontal contact, Sean noticed, his irritation mounting.
For his part, Dennie didn’t seem in any hurry to push her away.
“Ahem.” Sean cleared his throat. “Over here.”
Immediately, Natalie stepped away from the doctor. “Dennie,” she said. “This is Sean. Can you take a look at his foot?”
“Of course.” Kneeling beside Sean, Dennie held out his hand. “Dennie Pachla.”
Sean shook it with as much heartiness as he could muster. “Sean McGregor.”
Both of Dennie’s blond eyebrows rose. “The Sean McGregor?”
Sean gave a weary nod.
Obviously surprised, Dennie glanced at Natalie. “But that would mean—”
“We were married.” Natalie sounded grim. “Once.”
“I was going to say that would mean you’re not dead. But I guess ‘we were married’ works.” Dennie continued. “You’re not still?”
“Yes,” Sean said.
“No,” Natalie replied at the same time.
“We were never divorced.” He glared at her.
“I’d think your death would have dissolved the marriage, don’t you?” She glared back.
“Whoa.” Dennie held up his hands. “Time out. I’ll just be taking a look at this foot, and then I’ll be on my way.”
Auggie went up to Natalie and put his arm around her shoulders. “Why dinna you tell me he was back?”
She shrugged. “I just found out. You know I would have called you.”
Sean winced. Though he’d always secretly harbored the fear their marriage wouldn’t have survived his secret, watching her prove she’d made it without him hurt more than it should.
“We’ll need an X-ray,” Dennie said after a brief exam.
“No time,” Sean responded.
A quick look at Sean’s face showed Dennie he meant business.
“I’m thinking your fifth metatarsal might be broken. Depending on how bad the break is, surgery is sometimes necessary.”
“Not an option.”
“A cast?” Dennie offered.
Sean shook his head no.
“Very well. I’ll run back to my surgery and fetch a walking cast. It’s a heavy boot,” Dennie said as Sean started to protest. “You have to leave it on for six to eight weeks.”
“Perfect.” Sean held out his hand. “Thanks.”
After a brief shake, Dennie rose and headed toward the door. Auggie followed. Only Natalie remained.
“What are you going to do?” she asked quietly. “After he puts that boot on your foot?”
“I came to protect you,” he drawled. “So I’m thinking I’ll accompany you back to London.”
“London?” Though she never raised her voice, her anger simmered in her eyes. “I’m not going to London.”
“That’s the plan.”
“According to whom?”
“Corbett. No doubt he’s been talking to your father.”
Briefly she closed her eyes. When she opened them, he saw determination and resignation in their depths. “I’m not going to London.”
He sighed. “Fine. Then tell me, what are your plans?”
“You never answered.” She crossed her arms and stared at him. Daring him to contradict her. “You first.”
“I said I was going to protect you,” Sean growled. “I’m going after him.”
“Him?”
Though she shouldn’t have had to ask, in a perverse way he was glad she had. He wanted to say the name of his enemy out loud. “The Hungarian.”
“The crime lord?” She looked wary. “Why?