Jennifer tilted the brim of the ball cap down over her face and walked swiftly away from Marcy’s car. She peeked over her shoulder to see Marcy wiping her eyes as she climbed out of the passenger seat and rounded the car to climb in behind the wheel. Marcy was worried for Jennifer and regretted that phone call. It was there in Marcy’s anxious eyes when she looked at Jennifer one last time as she drove past and pulled into the North Vegas traffic.

Jennifer missed having a car. She hadn’t had one since she left her parents’ home. Her father wouldn’t allow her to take the vehicle he’d bought Jennifer for her sixteenth birthday when she left to follow her dream of a career as a professional dancer. Jennifer sighed. She would be long gone from Vegas by now if she had a car. She would have risked using her bankcard to fill the tank so she could drive until the gas ran out. It was a nice fantasy but she didn’t have a car. She hadn’t seen her purse since Evan took her and her bank account was bone dry by now anyway.

The wad of cash Marcy gave Jennifer was burning a hole in her pocket. Not with the urge to spend it frivolously, though. It was burning with guilt. Jennifer hated to accept the money from Marcy. Lord only knew how long it had taken Marcy to save the little nest egg. Marcy was also a dancer. They made just enough to survive, so Marcy must have cut some serious corners to be saving money. It was nearly impossible unless you wanted to become a different kind of dancer. Jennifer couldn’t blame the girls who went that route. She’d struggle to survive for months on the tips from waiting tables until she finally landed a real gig. There were days when even Jennifer had considered trying it.

Giving that money to Jennifer was a selfless thing to do, and it made Jennifer feel like a jerk for not taking the time to get to know Marcy better when she’d had the chance. That money combined with the few hundred Jennifer had risked her life to retrieve from her apartment would have to last. Somehow, Jennifer would find a way to pay Marcy back with interest. She had to. It was a matter of honor. She didn’t like owing anyone. In the meantime, Jennifer would put the money to good use. She’d spend it wisely and only when she really needed something. Like right now, when Jennifer desperately needed clothing.

The strip mall where Jennifer climbed out of Marcy’s car was a short distance from the church. It wasn’t obvious that the church was her destination and it wasn’t too far to walk without being noticed. Her apartment was miles away but still close enough that she worried about being spotted.

The shopping center was bustling with people between the fast food restaurant, a grocery store, and a discount retail shop. The latter was her goal. It was a general store. Jennifer would find some cheap and hopefully sturdy clothes to travel in and a backpack that didn’t make her stand out. Then, all she needed was a bus ticket out of town.

Her brush with Evan’s men had been way too close for comfort. Mere seconds had passed between the time she entered that humid laundry room and when she heard her apartment door being kicked in. Jennifer could still hear the pounding footsteps racing up the flight of stairs below her as she ran for her life in her head. She was sure at the time that she’d never make it without the thugs catching her. A sweat broke out over Jennifer’s skin. She took a few deep breaths and tried to focus on her goal. She didn’t have time to panic.

Thanks to Marcy’s innocent and well-meaning phone call, Evan knew Jennifer was still in Vegas. They’d be combing the streets for her now. Things had become too dangerous for her to continue living at the church.

Jennifer planned to write a note of thanks to the pastor and his wife. She believed they had indeed saved her life when they took her in. They fed Jennifer and gave her a safe place to sleep when she was starving and exhausted, and sure Evan was hiding around every corner. She couldn’t risk being found under their protection. If anything happened to them . . . Jennifer couldn’t bear the idea.

The sight of the two men dead from bullets to their heads flashed through Jennifer’s mind. She shivered. Evan was a monster. What would Evan, a man without a conscience do to the kind older couple for interfering with his business, even if they had no idea who he was or that Jennifer was running from him? She didn’t know. So she wouldn’t take the chance.

The threat of Evan’s shadow constantly over her shoulder solidified Jennifer’s plan. She grabbed a shopping cart and entered the store with her head down. It was no surprise when Jennifer noticed the store employee shadowing her up and down the aisles.  She must look like she was up to no good in her baggy men’s clothing with the brim of her cap hiding her eyes and her face down as she pursued the aisles. It didn’t bother Jennifer. She planned to pay for her selections. The manager could watch all he liked.

In a few short minutes, she had granola bars and a few bottles of water to keep her going on the bus. She put two pairs of jeans, two shirts, and underwear in her cart. Then she wandered over and selected a plain dark blue backpack to put it all in for the trip.

She had one change of clothes. That was more than she started the day with and it was sufficient to get her through for a while. The less she had to carry the better. The items she selected were good enough for now.

In no time, Jennifer was in line and itching to leave before the nosy store manager got a better look at her face. She had the cashier stuff her purchases into the backpack instead giving her plastic bags. Jennifer was out of there and walking toward the church unhurriedly. She didn’t want to draw any attention at all.

When she made it church, Jennifer breathed a sigh of relief and hurried past the community garden with the creepy gnomes. She could swear the where watching her as she crossed the parking lot to the kitchen entrance. It wouldn’t take her long to change and pack her few belongings. Jennifer planned to leave the dresses and shoes she hated behind in the donation bin when she returned the borrowed men’s clothes.

She wanted to be gone within the hour. The key the pastor gave her turned in the lock, but the door stuck, as usual. Jennifer shouldered the door that always stuck. It took a few tries, but the door finally gave, and she entered, preoccupied with thoughts of what exactly she should say in her thank you letter to Pastor Davis.

Jennifer had one foot through the soup kitchen door when the barrel of a pistol emerged from the darkness to be pointed at her face. Frozen with fear and defeat, she tried to breathe, but the air was trapped in her lungs. Evan’s men had found her. She wondered if he would kill her right there in the church or take her back to Evan. Would Evan kill her right away or make her suffer. Her worst fear was what he might do to her before she died. If he could murder in cold blood, what else would he do? Letting her live might be the cruelest thing he could do. She would rather die than marry Evan.

“Drop the bag,” the demand was snarled from somewhere behind the steady barrel of the gun.

Jennifer did as she was told, letting the backpack slide off her shoulder. With the streetlight filling the doorway behind her, she couldn’t see a thing in the darkened room.

“Lock your fingers behind your head and get on your knees.” The gunman growled.

Jennifer locked her fingers behind her head, but she hesitated to get on her knees. Her legs trembled. Would he shoot her right there in the church, execution style on her knees, just like the men she’d seen dead in Evan’s warehouse? She debated the idea of running. Could she get away before he put a bullet in her back? Probably not.

“Do it! On your knees or I’ll put a hole in them so you can’t stand!”

The threat worked. Jennifer dropped to her knees, the solid tile floor sent pain shooting up her legs. Tears pooled in her eyes. What was a little pain? At least, she was still alive, but for how long?

“Face down on the ground, you little thug. Do it now.” Disgust filled the voice in the darkness.

With her hands behind her head, it wasn’t easy to get down and lay face down. She sat back on her heels and bent forward until her elbow were on the ground. Then she just stretched out until she was flat on her face pressed against the cold tile. Her assailant put a foot between her shoulder blades. The air rushed out of Jennifer’s lungs. It was a big fucking foot.

“Don’t move while I pat you down, or the police will find you with a hole in your worthless body. What the fuck is wrong with you? Who robs a fucking church?”

Large hands ran over her body. Jennifer coughed and tried to catch her breath so she could explain that she wasn’t robbing the church. She lived in the damn church. At least, she did until tonight. The man rolled her slightly to check her front pockets and came back with a hand full of cash. It was her nest egg from Marcy.

“You little fucker! Where did this come from? Who else did you rob tonight?” He dropped the money on the ground. “We’ll let the cops sort that out, won’t we?”

When the man moved to kick the door shut and lock it, Jennifer saw his shoes. The haze of fear was dissipating from her brain, and things were beginning to fall into place. That deep voice. The soup kitchen. Combat boots. The church. The gun. He thought she was robbing the church.

“I think I’ll kick your ass while we wait for the police to arrive. Maybe it will knock some sense into you, you little fucking punk! How dare you steal from a church?”

Jennifer tried to speak but had the air knocked out of her air when she was hoisted from the ground by the back of her shirt and the waistband of the saggy jeans she wore to hide her identity. She was slammed into the cinderblock wall hard and bounced off it. She hit her ass and rolled away as a big boot came down next to her as if he would stomp on her. She rolled again. That knocked the hat off her head. The braid she had twisted into a bun came loose and fell down her back. The overhead fluorescent light came to life above her, and Jennifer was blinded. She sprawled on her side again trying to catch her breath.

“What the fuck? You’re a fucking girl?” he cursed.

Jennifer was sure then. She wasn’t going to die. Not tonight anyway. This wasn’t one of Evan’s men come to drag her back to him.

“Rourke, it’s me.” Jennifer rolled to her back and looked up at the angry Navy SEAL, who thought he was protecting his church from a thief.

Jennifer didn’t believe she’d ever see Rourke again. His handsomely rugged face was a beautiful sight, even if it came with a few bruises. She could apologize to him now and maybe steal one last kiss before she made her escape.

Rourke’s fierce expression drained away to be replaced with shock. He dropped to his knees next to Jennifer and lifted her into his lap. He wrapped those muscled arms around her and nearly squeezed the air out of her again.

“I’m so sorry. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Fuck! I hurt you!” Rourke cursed and stood with her in his arms. He placed her on one of the long serving tables with care and began to look her over, checking her limbs and face.

“I'm all right. Just a little shaken,” she told him.

“Good, because I’m going to put you over my knee and spank your ass red. Where the fuck have you been? Pastor Davis wouldn’t tell me anything. I’ve been losing my mind! I can’t believe you did that to me, again! Fuck!”

Rourke had a mouth like a sailor when he was angry.

Jennifer’s heart skipped. Rourke had been searching for her, even after she ran out on him a second time? She was sure he would give up. Cut his losses and find a woman who didn’t run every time he used the restroom. Her whole body warmed. Rourke did care about her. She hadn’t been alone in the intense attraction she’d felt for him. Rourke was drawn to her too. After the second time they were together, Jennifer was sure her heart was lost forever.

“And why are you dressed like a man, again? Why are you breaking into the church?”

She smiled. “I’m not breaking in. I have a key. It’s still in the door.” She pointed to the keychain on the ground by the door.

“You were shouldering the door like you were breaking in,” he argued.

“The door sticks. I always have to do that. Well, at least, I have the few times I’ve actually left the building. I’ve been here the whole time. I live here, Rourke, but I’m going tonight.” She tried to explain, but she knew her answers would bring more questions. This was the one reason she didn’t want to see Rourke again. Rourke didn’t need to get involved in her mess. She feared if she explained it all to him that he would insist on protecting her. After what she’d been through earlier that night, Jennifer was sure the danger to herself and anyone around was still very real. It was almost comforting to know she wasn’t totally paranoid and crazy.

“You live here? But you’re wealthy. Why would you be residing in a soup kitchen? There isn’t a shelter here. You can’t live in the kitchen,” he argued. She could hear the wheels turning in his mind while he tried to make sense of what she was saying.

“Do you know many wealthy women who dress like men, carry backpacks, and take the bus?” Jennifer hoped off the table, and Rourke backed up to give her room. “Come with me, and I’ll explain while I pack.”

“Pack for what?” he asked.

Jennifer didn’t answer. She just walked through the dining area and across the kitchen to the storeroom. The door to her hiding place was concealed in the back by a support beam. The section of wall where the door was located in the corner looked just like the rest of the paneled wall. You had to step around the beam and stand directly in front of the door to see the handle. The door opened with its usual creaking protest. Jennifer kept meaning to ask the pastor if he had an oil can so she could grease the hinges. It was too late to worry about it now that she would be leaving. Jennifer stepped into the small area she called her home, and Rourke followed.

Jennifer turned on the lamp and faced the man she wished with all of her being she didn’t have to leave tonight. Even if their time together only lasted until he returned to duty, Jennifer could feed on those memories for the rest of her life. When she first met Rourke, Jennifer couldn’t imagine being with a man she knew would be leaving her at any time. Now she would give anything for just a little more night with him, because Rourke wasn’t just any man. No matter how wrong she may be, Jennifer would always think of him as her man.

Rourke took up so much space. He made the area seem even smaller than usual. Her cozy little alcove became a closet with Rourke in it. He was taking in the area wide-eyed with big hands on his lean hips. He took in her three expensive dresses hang under the shelf that held an array of romance novels and the two pairs of heels on the floor. He then looked past Jennifer to the neatly made bed and the lamp in the corner. That was all there was to her temporary home, and she’d been so grateful to have it.

Jennifer noticed what Rourke was wearing while he looked her up and down. Her outfit was ridiculous, but it had done its job, so well in fact, that not even Rourke had recognized her. The darkness of the kitchen when she entered didn’t hurt either. She’d also been able to escape capture by walking right out of her apartment building in full view of one of Evan’s men, with some help from Marcy. Rourke looked mouthwatering in dark jeans and a crisp, cream-colored button-up shirt open at the throat. His feet were still encased in combat boots under the jeans. The man was mouthwateringly handsome in his rough way.

“What the fuck is going on here, Jennifer?”

“I’ve been hiding,” she told the truth. It was somewhat plain to see anyway.

“Are you married? Are you hiding from your husband?” he snarled the question, and his eyes burned into her.

“No! I’ve never been married. I’ve never really even had a really serious relationship. I told you that. I’ve always been too busy. I was career-minded, so I didn’t get too close to anyone if you must know.” She was insulted. They’d had sex twice, and he thought she might be married?

“Fuck!” Rourke ran a hand through his cropped, wheat colored hair. “I’m sorry, alright. I’ve been racking my brains for a week trying to figure out why you’d just walk away like that, a-fucking-gain. A husband was a damn good reason.” He was right, that would be a good reason for the way she’d fled.

“I want the whole story, Jennifer. Every bit of it, but first I need you.” Rourke erased the space between them and took Jennifer into his arms.

He kissed her with abandon. Not holding anything back. He told Jennifer he needed her, and he’d meant it. She could feel every ounce of worry and frustration he’d been experiencing since she walked away from him a week ago.

Had it only been a week? It felt like it had been years since she tasted his hot mouth and melted into his strong arms. She wished she could stay right there with him in her private sanctuary forever. She couldn’t do that, but she could make one more memory with her sexy SEAL.

 

*   *   *

 

Rourke’s mind was spinning like a fucking roulette wheel. One moment he was teaching a little thug a lesson about respecting the church, and the next he was reeling from the surprise that the thug was a girl. Everything in him recoiled from the idea of striking a female, and he’d just slammed her around as if they were in a training ring.

His surprise turned to horror when he realized the intruder was his very own Jennifer. The woman he’d been ripping apart Vegas looking for over the past weeks. Rourke went back to Luc and enlisted him to help turn over every rock in town. Pride be damned. Rourke would beg for assistance and take advantage of every resource available to Luc through his more nefarious connections.

Someone had to know something about Jennifer, and Rourke was determined to find her. He’d spent hours riding around town on his bike looking for her. If Rourke wasn’t spending time with his mom and enjoying home cooked meals, he was searching for Jennifer. He wasn’t sleeping well and he was going a little nuts. He’d come to the church to hound the pastor for information again when he saw a shady looking character creeping around the back from an upper window. Just like that, he had Jennifer back in his sights.

Rourke’s heart settled into a steady gallop. His skin tightened with anticipation. He wouldn’t be turning his back on the evasive woman until he had some real answers. Maybe not even then. After only a minute of conversation, Rourke’s self-control was frayed. He wanted to shake the woman, but more than that, he wanted to hold her and ensure himself that she was real. He’d actually found her in the church’s soup kitchen.

After ensuring he hadn’t seriously hurt Jennifer, Rourke followed her into the storage room behind the kitchen. The hidden room he’d never noticed in spite of having grown up in the church distracted him momentarily while he looked around the sparse space. This was where she’d been hiding? No wonder Pastor Davis ejected him from the church. Jennifer was hiding under Rourke’s nose in the church.

From the beginning, Rourke had pegged Jennifer as a very wealthy but bored socialite. It was laughable now. Rourke didn’t know yet who she really was, but he knew he had to have her. Nothing short of learning Jennifer was an Al-Qaeda operative would stop him from trying to win her heart. She wasn’t married, and that made her fair game.

Rourke finished his quick perusal of her tiny room. When his eyes rested on Jennifer again, she was watching him with sadness and longing in her ocean eyes. Jennifer looked so small in her too large men’s clothing. She looked so sad and nervous. Maybe even embarrassed by her dilemma.

She kept running from him, but Jennifer wanted Rourke as badly as he wanted her. The energy scorching the air between them was alive, just as it had been from the moment they met. Rourke needed to get to the bottom of her predicament quickly if he was going to help her, therein helping himself, but first, he needed Jennifer in his arms.

“I need you now,” he heard himself say in explanation or maybe apology when he lunged at her, erasing the space between them to claim her lips. Once Rourke saw Jennifer standing there looking so fragile with that little bed behind her, the only coherent thought in his head was to get them both naked and on it as soon as possible.

Jennifer kissed Rourke back eagerly. Their kiss was nothing short of incendiary. Rourke had seen missiles strike with less explosivity than what ignited between him and his little runaway. The primitive urge to a lay claim to Jennifer in some way was undeniable.

Jennifer’s hands roamed over his shoulders and down his chest. She hastily unbuttoned his shirt. When her hands met his bare skin, and she ran her nailed lightly over his nipples, Rourke growled into her mouth. Passion rose swift and potent between them. Rourke was still angry with Jennifer, but the urgent need to touch and be touched, love and be loved, was stronger than any other consideration.

Together, they worked to divest one another of the clothing that stood between them and satisfaction. Every smooth stretch of Jennifer’s skin Rourke unveiled distracted him from his task. He wanted to lick and nibble every piece of her luscious body. That would come later, after the roaring lust that poured through his veins had been tempered, and he could think again.

Once he had her stripped, Rourke lifted Jennifer into his arms, and she wrapped her long, toned legs around his waist. He walked them the short distance to the bed. It was a narrow space that was more like a cot or a portable bed. Rourke hoped it held up under their combined weight. He turned them and backed up until his legs hit the edge of the bed, and without breaking their kiss, Rourke sat gingerly with Jennifer over him.

Jennifer’s legs straddled his hips, and she clutched his shoulders. The desire to be inside of her welcoming body rose to an unbearable height. With his hands now free to roam, Rourke cupped Jennifer’s lush breasts and lightly pinched her pouting nipples. Jennifer hissed and ground her wet sex against him while gripping his head and guiding his mouth to her breast. The firm globes were perfectly rounded to fit his large hands. His tongue teased and licked, circling her rosy areolas in turn. Pleasuring them until she pleaded for more.

Rourke placed hot, open-mouthed kisses on the thudding pulse in Jennifer’s throat. Slowly, he made his way back to her lips. Prolonging the intimate foreplay for as long as he was able, Rourke indulged his need to taste those temptingly full lips and caress Jennifer’s lean, muscular body. Her small waist flared into hips perfect for his hands and an ass that would make any man beg for mercy. He would spend hours worshipping that ass. Rourke cupped Jennifer’s sex and found her hot, swollen, and slick. She was so ready for him. Thank fuck.

“Take me, baby. I need you to give me what I need, Jennifer. I need you. Only you,” Rourke admitted his weakness for Jennifer without shame.

He guided his rigid cock to her entrance and watched in wild, wondrous fascination as she lowered her pussy over his shaft inch by slow inch. Impaling herself on his cock while he stared and panted. She was scalding hot and beautifully pink against the darker shade of his shaft.

Jennifer panted and moaned her pleasure, and she swiveled and rotated her hips, taking him deeper and deeper as she went. Once he was fully seated in the heaven of her body, Rourke trembled with the effort of holding back his release. He breathed through the quivering and trembling of her inner muscles.

When Rourke was finally able to tear his eyes away from their joined sex, his breath hitched in his throat. Jennifer began a slow and steady ride without looking away. Jennifer’s eyes blazed with a raw need that matched his own and mesmerized him. This was about more than just sex. This was about them being together as one, and the shared emotion coursing between them only verified Rourke’s instinctual knowledge that this woman was his, now and forever.

He’d found her, and he wouldn’t let her go without a fight. It didn’t matter that he had no idea who she really was or why she was hiding. Rourke knew she was a good person to her core. He was in love with Jennifer, and whether she was ready to say the words or not, he knew she loved him, too.

Jennifer rode him harder and faster as they raced toward release. No reality existed beyond that small hidden room. There was no time to worry about what she was hiding from or for anxiety over the stress of maintaining a relationship with a SEAL. They were all passion and hot sweaty fulfillment.

Rourke rose to meet Jennifer’s downward strokes. He guided her hips in a steady rhythm that took them both up to and straight over the edge of ecstasy in a cataclysm that shattered them both. Pleasure rolled over him, wave after wave. With Jennifer clutched to his chest, Rourke turned to collapse on the tiny bed with Jennifer above him. The bed gave out under the stress of their lovemaking and crashed to the floor. The bed hit the standing lamp and knocked it over, causing the light the go out. Jennifer let out a surprised gasp followed by an amused giggle.

Her heartbeat was an echo in her chest that vibrated through his chest. Held her tight and softly kissed every inch of her face he could reach. Reality would return soon enough. For now, he just wanted to hold Jennifer tight on a broken bed in the haven of a hidden room the world knew nothing about and glory in the fact that she was safe, and they were together.