Emma awoke with a start as a car door closed, looking around in confusion in the dark. She blinked and sat up straighter, rubbing her stiff neck as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Her mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton, and her stomach rumbled in hunger. How many hours had passed since they’d left London?

She shifted in her seat, her feet bumping into her backpack. Her eyes followed the movement outside, and she watched as Hunter crossed in front of the bonnet of the car, his profile showing in the lights from a cottage he’d stopped at.

Unwelcome memories of the past few hours came quickly flooding back.

Running down the stairs in the hotel.

Stealing a car.

Falling asleep as the American Navy SEAL she’d met hurriedly drove them out of London.

She glanced down at the oversized shirt she had on, remembering her own soggy sweater stashed in her backpack. Let out a sigh as she leaned back against the seat once more.

Hunter pulled open the door to her side of the car, the interior dome illuminating his muscled forearm. His thick fingers wrapped around hers as he helped her stand, and he reached in and grabbed her backpack, clutching it with his own in one large hand.

His spicy, clean scent washed over her, and she resisted the urge to lean closer. To let his strength and warmth surround her.

She didn’t even know this man, yet she felt safe with him. Which was utterly ridiculous because he was one man against an entire group that appeared to be chasing after her. If they wanted her badly enough, they’d find a way. He’d be powerless to stop them, and she’d be powerless to avoid being kidnapped. She didn’t need to get out of London, she needed to get out of the damn country.

“How long was I asleep?” she asked as he released her hand.

“A couple of hours,” he said, quietly shutting the door. He looked down, meeting her gaze. Somehow he looked even more dangerous in the dark—the scruff of his beard. His chiseled features. The broad muscles across his torso and arms. His muscled chest filled out his tee-shirt in a way that was positively drool-worthy. And for some reason this man had assumed the role as her protector. That was fine for the evening, but what exactly was she supposed to do the next day? The next week?

Literally her entire life was in shambles.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” she said, brushing some of her hair back from her face. His eyes followed her movements, and she felt herself inexplicably feeling calmer as he watched her. He was attentive and aware. Concerned. Maybe she was nothing more than his latest mission, but at the moment, she could use any and all help she could get.

“Nothing like sightseeing in Europe while on the run from a terrorist cell,” he muttered. “This must be the worst R&R in history.”

Her stomach dropped.

Of course he’d be resentful that he’d gotten mixed up in this mess. He’d already said he was on his way back from some sort of operation. That he was just meant to be listening in on a conversation. She didn’t know much about SEALs, but she knew the military deployed all over the world. Same as the British forces. He was probably tired and ready for a vacation of sorts, and now he was stuck here babysitting her.

“Where are we?” she asked, gazing around the small lot. The small cottage. There were two other cars, but the place was otherwise deserted.

“Bed and breakfast. Not exactly my thing, but if anyone asks, we’re together. There’s just one bed in the room I got us, but don’t worry, I can crash on the floor. I’ve slept in a hell of a lot of worse places than this.”

“Wonderful,” she murmured. “I always hoped to have a brash, bossy, pretend American boyfriend.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers, princess. Would you rather I left you alone in the pub back in London?”

“Bloody hell, of course not,” she said, walking across the gravel lot toward the building.

“Aren’t you in a good mood.”

“I’m exhausted. I’m scared. And you’ve just pointed out that you were supposed to be here on a holiday, not running around with the likes of me.”

“A holiday,” he muttered. “Of course you’re my priority now,” he said with a scowl. “You were my responsibility the second you walked into that pub. I certainly would have preferred that we met under different circumstances, but there it is. I’m not going to complain about helping a beautiful woman. Let’s go to our room and send those files. Get the rest of the military in on this. I don’t think anyone followed us here, because I drove around in circles for over an hour. I’ll have to ditch the car once I get you safely inside. We passed some large fields with clusters of trees in the countryside. I’ll leave it there and hike back.”

“Right now?”

“Can’t have it here in the morning. The owner has likely filed a police report. Which means we’ll have to find a new ride back to London to catch our flight.”

“So we’re stranded here.”

“Momentarily. We’ll get a ride back. Hell, Mason can come pick us up if need be, but he’s supposed to be flying out in the morning. And I don’t want anyone following him here to us. That kind of defeats the purpose of leaving the city.”

“What about your flight?”

“I’m changing it. And taking you with me.”

“How lovely. Do you usually go around stealing cars back in the States?”

“No, this is my first grand larceny,” he quipped.

She looked at him in disbelief as he winked at her. Produced a key from the pocket of his pants as they made their way to the room. Hunter slid the key into the lock and pushed open the door, and she wanted to cringe at the sight—wrought-iron bed, handmade quilts, framed needlepoint on the walls. It was about as old-fashioned and unromantic as one could imagine. Not that she and Hunter were here on some sort of romantic getaway—far from it. But why anyone would think that stealing their lover away to a bed and breakfast for a romantic weekend was a wonderful notion, she hadn’t a clue.

“Looks like it could’ve been decorated by my grandma,” Hunter muttered, setting both backpacks on the bed.

“It’s a far cry from my flat in London. Of course, my flat was apparently torn apart, so this will have to do.”

She dug through her backpack, pulling out her mobile. Her heart dropped as she saw a text from her neighbor.

The police are back. Some strange guy was here looking for you.

“Bloody hell,” she said.

Hunter’s blue gaze shifted to her. “What’s wrong?”

“Someone was looking for me at my flat earlier.”

“What time?”

“The text from my neighbor says 2100. What’s so funny?” she asked as she saw Hunter’s lips quirk.

“Nothing—I just always forget that Brits use military time. Civilians never understand me back home.”

“How lovely. I guess you missed the part that some strange man was looking for me back at my flat. That’s twice in one day that I know of.”

“Nope, didn’t miss that at all, princess,” he said, walking over and taking her phone. “Has this thing been on?”

“No, actually I turned it off earlier. What are you doing?”

He pulled the back of her phone cover off and popped out the SIM card, then dropped it to the ground and smashed it with his foot.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, irritation rising through her.

“If they could find your home, they can track you on your phone. Do you have any other electronic devices?”

“My laptop is in my backpack—I thought I already mentioned that.”

“Don’t turn it on either. We’ll use mine to send the documents.”

Hunter sank onto the bed, rummaging around in his own backpack. He pulled a small laptop out and turned it on, entering in a string of numbers. “Let me see the thumb drive you have. We’ll upload the files right now.”

“I need your knife.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“I sewed it into the lining of my backpack—I don’t want to ruin the entire thing to get it back out. I’m just going to slice the seam.”

He pulled up a pants leg and pulled out an incredibly sharp knife. She took it from him in disbelief and carefully sliced open a few inches of the lining, retrieving the thumb drive. “This has what you need. I almost wish I’d never taken them in the first place.”

“Almost?” he asked, sticking the device into a port on his computer and rapidly firing off an email.

“Well, if it stops a terror attack, then it was worth all the trouble. I’m not sure that my own life is safe anymore, but good heavens. I don’t think so highly of myself that I’d put my own safety above that of others. Hundreds of people were injured and many killed during the bombings in London on 7/7. On 9/11, there were thousands killed in the U.S.”

“That’s what solidified my career in the Navy.”

“And many others, I’d imagine. In the U.K., as well. It certainly changed the world, didn’t it?”

“All set,” he said, pulling the thumb drive out of the port. “You want to hold onto this?”

“It’s all yours. Give it to your military or turn it over to the authorities here if you prefer. I’m done carrying it around.”

Hunter turned the small thumb drive over in his hand then slid it into the pocket of his cargo pants. “I’ll keep it on my person. I need to get rid of the car though. Will you be okay here? I’ll come back as quickly as possible. I made sure we weren’t followed.”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “If anyone comes in, I’ll just scream for help.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“Well, you’ve destroyed my phone.”

“Wasn’t safe, princess.”

She blew out a breath. “I know. Just go—ditch the car or do whatever you need to do. Set it up in flames for all I care. I’m exhausted.”

Hunter rose and crossed the room to the door. “I’ll be back soon. Don’t open the door for anyone.”

“Of course. It’s not like I’d think you’d go to all this trouble to rescue me than abandon me at a bed and breakfast.”

His lips quirked up. “I’m sure it’s been done before—this place could scare off many a guy.”

She laughed despite herself. “I’d say that it would take more than a little needlepoint to keep you away. You’ve already assured me that you’re not a typical man.”

“Far from it,” he said gruffly. His gaze met hers briefly, and a moment later, he was gone.

***

Hunter walked back into the room an hour later, pocketing the key, not surprised to see that Emma had fallen asleep on the bed. She’d looked exhausted earlier, with dark circles under her eyes, highlighted even more due to her fair skin.

It had been all he could do not to pull her close for a moment. Promise he’d keep her safe. She’d been through a hell of a lot more than most civilians and was holding up better than he’d expected. Aside from the tears in the elevator earlier, she’d been calm and collected ever since.

No telling how she’d be feeling tomorrow once reality set in. It was unsettling to have someone break into your home, to go through all of your belongings, and to know that she’d been followed? Chased? Shot at?

He shook his head.

Emma was beneath the quilt on the bed, the bulkiness of it covering her slender frame, her red hair fanned about around her. The other pillow was untouched beside her, looking absolutely inviting. Wouldn’t he fucking love to climb in bed beside her and pull her body close to his, but he wasn’t about to sneak up on a sleeping woman.

He wasn’t a saint, but even he had boundaries he wouldn’t cross. Not that he expected an engraved invitation, but a woman certainly had to be awake before he’d make the first move. And this was hardly the appropriate time to be trying moves of any sort.

He grabbed an extra blanket and the pillow, tossing them onto an armchair in the corner. Soon as he was done in the bathroom, he was crashing as well. There was no telling what they’d need to do tomorrow, and he wanted to be ready and alert first thing.

Same as always when he was on an op.

He turned and strode into the bathroom, doing a double-take. Emma’s cashmere sweater was lying across a fluffy white towel on the claw foot bath tub, but that wasn’t had him coming to a halt. What made his groin tighten. The palest pink lace bra hung from a fancy hook on the back of the door, along with a skimpy pair of lacy thong panties.

Knowing he shouldn’t, he reached out and touched the lace cup of her bra.

Groaned.

The entire bathroom smelled of the rose-scented soap the bed and breakfast had provided, and he saw drops of water in the bathtub. She’d bathed there, the water and soap sliding over her bare skin. No doubt he would’ve been happy to assist, had he been around, but he had a feeling she’d have politely declined.

Hell.

If she’d left some of her clothes in here, that meant she was asleep in his tee-shirt. Naked.

He’d take a quick shower himself before he crashed for the night.

Tried to ignore the beautiful woman sleeping mere feet away.

Grumbling at the flimsy shower curtain he had to pull all the way around the old-fashioned tub, he grabbed the handheld sprayer and lifted it above his head. The entire set-up wasn’t exactly suited to a man who was 6’2,” but at least it was a shower.

He toweled off, heading back into the room wearing only his boxer briefs. No sense in freaking Emma out if she awoke to find him sleeping buck naked. Nothing like a little morning wood to scare off a woman who barely knew him.

He pulled his cell phone from the pocket of his discarded cargo pants, seeing the latest message from his CO.

Change of plans. You leave in 48 hours. Flight’s on Wed at 2300.

Damn it. What the hell was he supposed to do for two days with Emma?

He quickly thumbed a response.

You get the intel I sent?

His CO’s reply came immediately.

Affirmative. Already shared it with the Brits and the Pentagon. Lie low for a few days until some of these guys are rounded up.

Hunter clenched his fist, grabbing his adapter and charger from his backpack. Lie low? He was a goddamn Navy SEAL. He was used to being in the center of the action, deploying on ops, focusing on his training. He certainly wasn’t used to hiding out with a woman for a couple of days while he let others handle the situation.

He crossed the room, irritated, and grabbed his pillow and blanket, tossing them onto the floor. His blood boiled as he stared up at the ceiling, his thoughts on everything that had happened. The idea that someone else was going to move in and handle this.

Men like him didn’t sit around doing nothing. The next forty-eight hours were going to be brutal.