Page 56 of Afraid to Hope

“Do I want to hear it?”

“Probably not, but since we’re working together—”

“Fine. Offer away.”

“Natasha is a fine woman. Sometimes your teasing is a little blue.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Off-color.” When Bane continued to look confused, Simon searched for other words. “Insensitive.”

“I’m only going to say this once, Simon. What’s between Nat and me is private. She’s okay with me until she isn’t. Our communication style works, and trust me, she communicates clearly.”

“Right. If you say so.”

“I do. Drop it.”

A few minutes later, Natasha stumbled back to the kitchen, sounding slightly winded. “Oh my god, Bane. Come with me.”

He followed her into the office and closed the door. “What’s going on?”

“Sit. You’re not going to believe this!”

Bane regarded her intently and dropped into a chair, elbows on knees, leaning toward her, a furrow evident between his heavy brows. Interest filled his hazel eyes. “Enlighten me.”

“That was Clara and Oliver at the door, on their way to the market, asking if we’d come for dinner. I said yes by the way. After they left, I unscrewed the door knocker, and I found this!” she said excitedly, pulling a tightly folded paper from the pocket of her skirt. “Look! It was inside the Fatima.” Natasha bent over in front of him and spread the note out in front of him. She drummed her finger on its surface. “Read it!”

“I like it when you’re all animated.” He grinned, pulling her down into his lap and nuzzling her neck. “You smell so good.”

She arched away and pointed to the paper again. “Focus.”

“Damn it, woman,” he growled good-naturedly and then surrendered, picking up the paper, its musky scent an indication of age. “This is from?”

“My grandfather.”

Ma chérie, je me repentis profondément de mes péchés car ils sont grands. J’espère qu’Elle pourra me guider. Je t’implore de me pardonner, lorsque tout sera dévoilé. Ton Pépé qui t’aime.

“Dear One,” he translated as he read.

“That’s me.”

“I deeply repent my sins, for they are great. I hope She can guide me. Please forgive me when all is revealed. Your loving Pépé.Short and sweet,” Bane mused, cocking his head, his eyes holding hers. “Any ideas?”

“Maybe.” Natasha held her forefinger up in the air. “Hold on a minute. I need to check something.” She left the office at a jog.

Bane watched her disappear and shook his head; she certainly was excited about something. He went to the kitchen where Simon was writing on one of the notepads and returned with a beer. Bane was taking a second drink and reflecting on the fact that beer might be hard to come by once they were out on assignment when Natasha came back in, out of breath, her eyes shining. She all but skidded to a stop in front of him and bounced up and down on her toes like an eager kid.

“Okay. Tell me. You look like you’re gonna bust.”

“Open your hand!”

Bane extended his left hand. Something cool, large, and heavy dropped into his palm. A large iron Fatima with a small key attached sat there. His brows rose with his question. “This is from?”

“From the courier packet I received in Cape Town.”

“I’m not following you. Why are you giving it to me?”

“Look at it, the key.”

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