They set off at a brisk pace through the jungle, the landscape an endless green sideshow of giant ferns, moss-covered trunks, and creepy crawly things that slithered across the damp floor.

They walked forever, until the tiny rays of sunlight that dared to break through the thick undergrowth and overhead faded as the sun began its downward journey. The thought of being stuck out here at nighttime terrified her. She watched enough National Geographic to know predators could sense blood from miles away, and they would be coming for them. There was no way Reaper could keep up this pace throughout the night, and there was no way she could manage it either. If they didn’t find shelter in the city, they’d find themselves in another death trap, only this one was guaranteed to have sharp claws and fangs.

Her last few attempts at conversation had been cut short. Reaper was closing himself off from her to the point that she almost felt like he was a stranger. She kept telling herself that he was focused on saving her life, but a niggling worry had taken hold of her mind like a leech stuck to her skin, constantly whispering that he really didn’t want to be anywhere near her.

Still, he’d held her hand the whole time, and he’d tried to soothe her through her minor breakdown earlier . . . Those weren’t the actions of a man who couldn’t stand being around a woman. She needed to accept what he said at face value. He was concentrating on survival, not her feelings.

Caroline stepped on something sharp. She grabbed her foot. “Ow!”

Reaper went to a knee before she could blink and palmed her heel. “Put your hands on my shoulders and let me look.”

She did as he commanded, absorbing his gesture as reassurance that he really did care about her well-being. She already knew she’d cut her foot, her fresh blood had mingled with the dried stains Reaper’s blood had left on her hand. Careful not to get too close to his injury, she put one hand on his non-injured shoulder and balanced herself.

“It broke the skin,” he said

“It doesn’t hurt that bad.” It hurt like a bitch, but she sure as hell wouldn’t tell him that.

“We need to disinfect it. There are all kinds of bacteria crawling around out here.”

His last statement caused her to gape at him. Was he serious? “You’re worried about a little bitty scratch on my foot when you have a gaping hole in your chest?”

He frowned up at her, but she wasn’t the least bit intimidated by his foreboding expression. She’d figured him out—he was the grouchy bear with a thorn in his paw. Just like her father.

“I’m not as important as you are. If your blood gets infected, it could kill you or worse.”

“Oh dear, I forgot my shoes back at the evil laboratory.” She was trying to lighten his mood a little, but apparently Reaper didn’t get sarcasm.

“They let you have shoes?”

Caroline rolled her eyes, “Of course not. They didn’t even let me have real clothes.” She gestured to her now filthy and stained hospital gown. They’d treated her like a prisoner, giving her only what they needed to keep her healthy enough to keep supplying their demand.

“You can’t keep on like this. There’s too much risk. Here, take my hand.” Still on one knee, Reaper presented her with his broad, muscular back and held a hand over his shoulder.

“Are you crazy? You can’t carry me!”

“I can and I will.” He emphasized what he wanted her to do with a shake of his hand.

Caroline crossed her arms over her less than generous bosom. There was no way in hell she was going to let him take on her added weight. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was hurting. “No.”

Reaper was on his feet and facing her in the next minute. “This isn’t going to work if you don’t do as I say.”

“This isn’t going to work if you die in the jungle,” she replied, mimicking his tone.

She instantly wished she would’ve kept her mouth shut because Reaper’s obsidian eyes narrowed threateningly. “I am the expert here. I saved your life. I’m the only one who can get us out of this jungle.”

Everything he said was absolutely true. “I’m still not climbing onto your back.”

“I could make you,” he said.

She nodded, “That’s true. But I can also make your life a living hell.”

He snorted, “Too late for that.”

Had he just cracked a joke? She really couldn’t tell. His expression was exactly the same as it had been the moment she first laid eyes on him: about as readable as a blank wall.

“Look, I’m not riding on your back. End of discussion. You’re wasting time arguing over a scratch when we should be running. God knows how much longer it’s gonna take us to get out of this place.” She waved a hand in the air, gesturing to her surroundings. “And you and I both know that no matter how big and tough you are, you won’t survive that gunshot wound stuck out here.”

The man didn’t move. He might as well be a statue for all she could tell. If only she could read his mind and figure out how it worked, she could decode all the gears shifting around in there. But she knew that was as likely to happen as Reaper was to don a pink tutu and start waving around a glittery wand.

The frustration that had been pacing around her for their entire journey finally won out. She stomped her foot, sending pain ricocheting through her upper arch, and then immediately grabbed it and began hopping around on one foot. Score one for Reaper—she had just pulled off the dumbest move of the century. He was gonna think she was a complete idiot if she kept up this behavior. And while she wasn’t willing to admit it to him, she could admit it to herself: she wanted so badly for him to like her.

“Fine. You can walk as long as you promise not to intentionally harm yourself again.” His harsh voice cut through her little rain dance and she stopped, carefully bouncing on the ball of her foot so as not to cause herself further injury.

“Fine, you have a deal. I promise not to intentionally harm myself.” The words sounded just as stupid coming out of her mouth as they had in her mind, but they seemed to appease her warrior. He turned and began walking in the opposite direction once more, giving her time to more closely study those rippling muscles underneath his tight T-shirt.

She’d seen pictures of supermodels who couldn’t pull off that level of sexy, but Reaper managed to do it without effort. His waist tapered into a narrow V that would make any woman salivate. Right along with a nice tight derrière that filled out those black tactical pants to perfection. He was a walking, talking god. Not like Adonis or anything, though—Reaper definitely belonged in the underworld.

Caroline snorted at her strange train of thoughts. And where exactly did she think she fit into his picture? She didn’t exactly run around in the same crowds as he did. It was impossible for her to picture him in a tuxedo and tie, and just as impossible for her to picture herself running around with a pistol gripped in her hand.

They went together about as well as Cinderella and Clint Eastwood.

That fairytale would never have a happily ever after. Caroline let out a pent-up sigh and ducked under a broad oval-shaped leaf the size of her entire body. She should just give up on this hero worship fantasy and focus on getting home to her father. He must be frantic. He’d devoted his entire life to safeguarding her, even going so far as to set up a prearranged marriage for her to ensure she’d be taken care of in the event of his death. He’d set up trust funds and signed over his entire properties in holdings to her in the event that anything ever happened to him. She’d grown up in the company of bodyguards. These precautions had been his response to the loss of her mother and twin-sister who’d died during birth.

Caroline didn’t resent growing up without a biological mother. Her cook and maid had been surrogate mothers, fussing and fighting over her, and her life had been filled up with enough love to erase any void. But there’d always been something else missing. She’d never been encouraged to seek out people her own age. Especially men her own age. She’d never felt real passion. The temptation she felt to reach out and touch Reaper, to take a chance, was so overpowering part of her wanted to take off running.

Of course, this wasn’t a situation she could escape, even if she took off running in the other direction. Reaper would just catch her, toss her over his shoulder and haul her out of the woods. The thought, although uncomfortable, made her belly quiver.

Geez—Winters had given her way too much drugs. Her mind was completely fried. She was in the sexual thrall of a soldier who could kill ten men with his bare hands and who was obviously annoyed every time she tried to spark up a conversation.

Good thing her housekeeper had always told her she could talk to a brick wall—she had a living, breathing one in front of her right now. She was no doctor, but most men with an injury as severe as Reaper’s would’ve passed out long ago.

Except for the blood pouring out of his shoulder, he hadn’t shown any signs of his injury wearing on him. However, now his skin was pale, and his hand felt a little cold against hers. He would probably never admit it, but his pace had slowed. If they didn’t make it out of the jungle soon, they’d have no choice but to overnight it in this deadly and dangerous wilderness.

A shiver worked across her shoulders and down her arms, and the pounding headache that had been hanging out just at the periphery of her senses pushed its way back in. Fatigue was like concrete shoes on her feet. Her own adrenaline had burned off and she was running low on energy.

Energy she couldn’t afford to lose if she was going to have to set up a shelter and watch over her man. Her man? What was she thinking?

Caroline stumbled into a brick wall, bounced off and glared at Reaper’s back. He could’ve at least told her he was about to stop right in front of her. But the chastisement on her lips went unspoken when she looked around his massive shoulders and saw the outskirts of the city. Hope surged through her so fast she got lightheaded. “You did it.”

“Did you doubt me?” His deep, husky voice made her think of dark nights, twisted up in silk sheets and skin on skin.

Her own experiences were so very far from that. She’d only made out with one guy in her life, an encounter about as exciting as kissing tree bark.

And it had been a complete set up, besides. Terry Green had arranged for his buddies to hide out nearby and take pictures of them locking lips. The tabloids had taken those snaps and run with them, implying that she and Terry had been hooking up for months and that the head of the American Morality Group, her father, couldn’t control his own teenage daughter.

She’d never even kissed her ex-fiancée’, the general, thank God.

Caroline’s childish dreams of dating the cute guy had been dashed completely by the whole incident, and after that she’d steered clear of men. She’d resigned herself to the fate of a politically arranged marriage, something that would at least make her father feel better about her future. So, she had avoided looking at other men, choosing not to put herself in a situation where she might be tempted.

But “tempted” was too small a word for what Reaper made her feel.

“So what’s the plan, Rambo?”

He shot her another annoyed glance and then went back to scanning the city. There were white, rectangular buildings interspersed with shacks and cement-block houses. The lush greenery of the jungle disappeared into a vast stretch of dry dirt and dead brown bushes.

It looked like no place she’d ever seen or been. The poverty was shocking to her, but it looked like an oasis compared the wild jungle they’d been trekking through all day.

“What’s going to happen is you’re gonna stay right here while I scout out a location for us to bunk down for the night. I can’t risk anyone spotting you.”

Alarm rushed from her head to her toes. Like hell she’d stay out here by herself. “No way. If you leave me here, I’ll just wait until you can’t see me anymore and head into the city by myself.”

“Dammit, Caroline, we’re not in the middle of the jungle anymore. There’s no room for error. You know Rainier runs the lab, he’s rich and he’s powerful and he doesn’t give a shit about anything that won’t keep him in that position. He has spies and workers in that town. As soon as someone spots your light skin and silky blonde hair, we’re as good as captured.”

He thought she had silky hair?

“Then I guess you’d better do a good job of camouflaging me. What if the men following us show up and capture me while you’re gone? What good would that do?” She bit her lip to keep from blurting out her true fear of a lion springing out of the bushes and devouring her alive.

Reaper would just bite the beast right back.

“You and I both know those troops are at least a few miles behind us. I have time.”

“Unless you pass out from blood loss or get taken prisoner yourself. You don’t think they put out an alert to look for a seven-foot-tall, three-hundred-pound soldier bleeding from the shoulder?”

Reaper blinked, staring at her like he hadn’t considered that possibility. Then he said, “Not possible. No one will see me. I know how to get in and out without being noticed. They’d hear you from a mile away.”

“Fine then, go on.” She pursed her lips together and arched her brow.

She would follow him at a distance. There was bound to be something she could nab and cover her head with. She didn’t know where they were, but she imaged there would be cloaks or sheets left out to dry.

“You’re going to follow me, aren’t you?” he asked, blowing out his breath in a huff.

“Yes.” There was no point in lying to him; he would discover the truth in just a couple of minutes if he did try to leave her.

“Are you ever going to do what I tell you to do?”

Caroline shrugged, “Maybe one day, if I think what you’re saying makes sense. But I’ve seen enough movies to know that when the good guys split up one of them is always killed or captured and tortured.”

“You think I’m a good guy?”

She did her best to ignore the rawness in his question. “Of course I think you’re a good guy. No matter how grouchy you are, bad men don’t risk their lives for other people.”

He turned from her then, but she could see he didn’t like taking compliments. He wasn’t used to receiving them, probably didn’t go around slapping others on the back saying, “Good job, buddy.” Well, that was about to change. She believed in positive reinforcement. And she was going to positively reinforce him right out of this country.

“Okay, stay close. See that building over there?” He pointed to a two-story adobe building that looked like it was white beneath several layers of dirt. “We’re going to run for it.”

“Got it, boss.”

He didn’t take her hand this time, but she didn’t have time to mull over that fact. She gathered the back of her gown together and sprinted after him.

The possibility that her backside might be showing in the dense forest hadn’t bothered her, but there was a very real chance someone might spot them out here and the last thing she wanted a stranger to see was her bare ass.

Even injured, Reaper sprinted at an almost inhuman pace. She hadn’t even made it halfway across the distance by the time he reached the side of the building and leaned back against it, holding a pistol that had apparently been strapped somewhere on his person. By the time she reached him, she was breathing hard and had to grab the wall to keep from collapsing. That burst of energy had cost her dearly.

When she calmed enough to achieve a somewhat normal heart rate, she tilted her head to the side and tried to listen to the commotion in the city. They couldn’t see anyone, but there was plenty of noise—people moving around, talking in a language she couldn’t understand. As a matter of fact, it seemed like the locals were right ahead of them. And the smell... “What is that?”

“Death.”

A sense of foreboding fell over her shoulders like a heavy cloak and she curled her fingernails into her palms. Reaper would probably think she was just being silly, but she had the distinct impression something really bad was about to happen. While she didn’t want to face Reaper’s wrath, she couldn’t risk staying silent. The potential cost was too high.

“Reaper, hold on. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“I do, too.”

Surprise jolted her system, like a bucket of ice water upended over her head, but she kept her mouth shut. “What do you want to do?”

“There are soldiers patrolling the streets. They’re looking for us.”

There went her dream of finding a tiny cottage where they could hole up and recover. As soon as they stepped around the corner of this building, they’d be caught and hauled back to the lab. No one on the outside would ever even know they’d escaped. Reaper couldn’t take on another patrol of men in his condition, and her fighting skills were basically on the level of a kitten. As in, she’d never been in a fight before. Never. Ever. She’d be lucky to get in a few scratches despite her heightened genetics.

She couldn’t go back there. She just couldn’t waste her life away being a human test tube. She’d rather take a bullet.

“What are we going to do?” she asked breathlessly. He rolled around her to peer into the nearest open window of the building they were crouched beside. Caroline gasped and tried to pull him back. “Someone will see you!”

“No one’s in there. Come on, I’ll help you over the ledge.”

“How do you know it’s empty?”

“It’s my job to know these things. Quit asking questions and come on before one of those guards strolls around the corner and spots us.”

His words were enough to spur her into action, and she placed her uninjured, but still filthy, foot into the cradle of his hands. Just like before, he hoisted her up like she weighed nothing. Caroline landed on her feet inside the building.

The stench of hot trash slammed into her senses and she slapped her hand over her mouth and nose, fighting not to gag. No wonder no one was in this building. It smelled like a human toilet shoved into an oven set to broil.

The fact that Reaper joined her without so much as a sniff left her mute. She couldn’t stay here, not without puking every hour on the hour. “What on earth is that god-awful smell?”

“Bodies.”

All Caroline could see in the cavernous room they’d entered were the walls and dirt and tarps covering a mound stacked almost to the ceiling. A mound of . . . bodies. She had to swallow her gorge. She’d seen more dead bodies in one day than she had in her entire life.

“You don’t sound shocked,” she finally managed to say. She was almost desperate enough to lift the hem of her gown and breathe through it like a mask. Almost. The thought of Reaper seeing her completely naked and dirty and surrounded by corpses wasn’t exactly her idea of romance. Not that there was romance in their near or distant future.

“We’re on the border of South Sudan. The two warring factions are constantly killing each other in the streets, along with whatever civilians are unfortunate enough to get in the crossfire. They don’t have enough morgues to keep up with the body count, they don’t have any heavy equipment to bury and hide them like some other countries do. If they started a mass burning, the United States drones would spot them from overhead and spark an international call to action.” With his good hand, he raised his pistol to shoulder level and began silently creeping around the vicinity.

“So, they made a storage depot for dead people?”

“It’s better than you joining them, right?” Reaper moved off to the left. Even though the room appeared empty, Caroline felt about as safe as a robin being circled by a hawk. Knowing she was with a man who could take out an entire team of trained soldiers by himself took the edge off her fear. When he got a good ten feet away from her, she jumped and ran after him, having no intention of standing there next to the window all by herself.

“Are there really bodies underneath those tarps?” she asked quietly.

“Yep.”

Caroline scooted in closer. “That is atrocious.”

Reaper kept moving, completely unfazed. “That, Princess, is war.”

It wasn’t right. In fact, it was so wrong, in so many ways, it made her sick. All those talks her father had given about preserving humanity and protecting those who were too weak to stand up against evil. . . All those international charities she’d funded . . . She’d even spoken at a few, so high and mighty, thinking herself an expert on solving poverty worldwide. Her ignorance and naïveté couldn’t have been more glaring.

When she got home, she would dedicate her life to protecting these innocents. She would take the charities she’d sponsored in the right direction, and she’d actually travel outside the comfort of her manicured and gated mansion in Virginia to bear witness to the crimes against life being perpetrated every day.

“I’m going to stop this.”

They circled nearly the entire room, staying clear of the bodies. Reaper holstered his pistol. “You and what army? These people have been fighting each other since the beginning of time.”

Caroline made a broad gesture in the direction of the tarps. “I can’t just do nothing after seeing that.”

Reaper grasped her bicep, his fingers touching each other. “You can and you will. Right now, you don’t have a choice.”

Before she could respond to that remark, he’d given her his back. She’d learned this was his way of cutting her off. “Regardless, we can’t stay here. There’s no telling if there’s infection or bacteria growing. We’re going to have to find another shelter.”

“And how exactly do you suggest we do that when there are guards patrolling the streets? As soon as we step outside, we’ll be spotted.”

Reaper gestured to the tarps. “Lots of clothes in there. I’m sure they won’t mind if we borrow some.”

Shock stole her breath. He wanted to pilfer clothes from the dead bodies that had been rotting for no telling how long? They were standing on the other side of the warehouse, and she was already about to gag from the stench; getting closer wasn’t an option. Touching them wasn’t an option. “Hell, no.”

He shrugged, tilting his head to the side with the movement as if to say well it was worth a shot, and pulled a flat case from a cargo pocket at his knee and holding aloft a small pouch of white powder.

“What is that?”

“Quickclot.”

He pulled down his shirt, revealing the oozing wound at his shoulder, and sprinkled the powder directly onto the opening without flinching.

“Come again.”

“It’s a hemostatic agent that clots your blood to stop the bleeding.”

Caroline couldn’t keep quiet. “So you sprinkle some magic powder and seriously expect me to take clothing from those poor people’s backs?”

“I didn’t want to—” he emphasized the word want, “—but I’ll do it if we have no choice. Especially if it means protecting you from the threat outside. Those people are already dead. They won’t know if they’re naked or not. You, however, are still alive and I intend to see you stay that way.”

“Well, you better find another way. Because you would have to kill me before I put on their clothing.” She crossed her arms. The movement parted the gown in the back and a hot draft breezed across her bare butt. “I’d go outside naked first.”

His gaze raked her, and if Caroline hadn’t already been halfway certain she was losing her mind, she would’ve sworn she saw something like admiration in his dark gaze. But he blinked just as quickly and the spell was broken. “The goal is to not draw attention to yourself.”

Caroline crossed to the windows on her left, cautious not to be seen. Most of the glass was covered in such a thick layer of dirt no one could see out or in. She took her index finger and smudged a tiny hole just big enough to peer through. “There are clothes hanging on a line in the alley between our building and the next. I’ll go grab some.”