Page 19 of Kidnapped By a SEAL

“Sometimes,” she said sarcastically.

He chuckled, realizing that was probably the first time she’d joked with him. A woman like Emily probably wouldn’t appreciate him telling her what to do. Not usually, at any rate. She’d gone along with most of it for now, being injured and out of her element. She was probably used to being in control though, which was just another reason things wouldn’t ever work between them.

“We don’t exactly have meal service on these trans-Atlantic flights, but I can rustle you up an MRE if you think you can stomach it.”

“Yeah, maybe in a few minutes. I haven’t been too hungry lately.”

The plane jostled as it went through some turbulence, and Emily reached out and grabbed Ryker’s hand. He unconsciously let his thumb skim over her knuckles as she held onto him, barely even realizing what he was doing. “It’s all right,” he murmured.

“Yeah,” she said, shakily pulling her hand away. “I didn’t mean to grab onto you. I’ve just been a bit on edge since—well. You know.”

“Since we rescued you,” he said, his voice rough.

Warm brown eyes met his, and she nodded. Hell. They’d rescued people before, but they didn’t typically fly them back home with them. Usually the injured remained in the hospital or were sent off to Landstuhl.

And the men they rescued were usually that—men. American soldiers. Not a beautiful woman that clung to him when she was frightened.

He should move back to where his buddies were and just let her rest. It was a hell of a long flight, and Ryker knew Emily had to be exhausted. The way she looked at him slayed him. She trusted him—of that much he was certain.

But he sure as hell didn’t need to grow attached to a woman like her. Yeah, he wanted to protect her. That was his job. His duty. He’d sworn to protect the innocent, to fight for his country. She was an American citizen. She deserved his protection.

But now?

After they landed, they’d go their separate ways. Why that thought pained him, he didn’t want to examine too closely.

“So what kind of MREs do you guys have anyway?” she asked.

Ryker chuckled, reaching over to grab his rucksack. He rustled around, pulling out two choices. “Beef stew or mac and cheese.”

“Mac and cheese,” she said.

He tossed it toward her, and she fumbled with the package, dropping it. “Shit, sorry,” he said, reaching over. He handed it to her, his fingers brushing against her own cold hands. “Jesus, let me get you a blanket or something,” he said, standing up. She tore open the MRE as he crossed toward some of their gear. Grabbing their emergency supplies, he pulled out one of the thin, reflective blankets intended for warmth.

“Here you go,” he said, handing it over to Emily. “This will keep you nice and warm.”

She laughed, a deep, throaty sound that he felt in his groin. “They’ll see me coming for miles with this covering me.”

“Luckily they’re expecting us at Andrew’s,” he replied.

She took a bite of the mac and cheese, wrinkling her nose. It was cute as hell, not that he thought she’d appreciate his saying that.

“Not exactly a gourmet meal,” he said with a chuckle. “If you hate it, I’ll trade you my beef stew.”

“I already took a bite,” she protested.

Ryker shrugged. “I’m not picky. All MREs begin to taste the same after a while. And hell, you’re the one who’s been without choices for the past month.”

“God, you know what I’ve been craving?” she asked, taking another small bite of her food. He tried to avoid watching those full lips as she chewed. She still had the angry bruise on her forehead, but those rosy lips were doing him in. Not to mention her deep brown eyes.

“What’s that?” he asked, taking a large bite of his own food.

“Mexican. Pretty much all they fed me was rice and naan—that was better than nothing, don’t get me wrong. But it was bland and awful after a while. I ate it to keep up my strength, but I’d be lying there in my little cot, and I’d have killed someone for a burrito and margarita.”

“Amen,” Ryker agreed. “I can’t say I’ve been in captivity or had to endure what you did, but when we’re off on long missions eating these damn MREs day in and day out, I’d kill for some Mexican, too.”

“Right?” she said, smiling. She turned over the package of instant Gatorade mix in her hand.

“Mix that with some of your water,” he said.

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