Page 72 of Doyle

“You need to get out of there.”

The last words Nim said to her before Emberly stepped inside Declan’s vault for the second time, this time to secure the AI program.

A plan that seemed to go without a hitch, her downloading the program, sealing the hard drive into a waterproof bag, and packing it into her shorts pocket. Then the lift on the other side of the chamber started to move, and she had nowhere else to go but... inside.

The vault...

As intrapped.

At least she had extra oxygen with her, along with her headlamp, which illuminated the walk-in vault. But she’d had to hunker down while security searched the place.

And pray, really, that no one opened the safe.

Emberly glanced at her watch. Three hours since she’d locked herself inside. The vault had a safety release for just these moments—she’d at least checked before she sealed herself in. But much longer and she’d run out of air.

She’d be forced to leave. And then—what? Walk right into Stein’s grip?

Well, she’d been there before, hadn’t she?

The memory forced its way in before she could swipe it away, andgosh—she had nothing else to do but revisit Poland.

Revisit the early-morning hours when Stein had relieved her from her night watch. He’d come into the room, revived after four hours of sleep, looking every inch the warrior she expected. Lean, built, a haze of whiskers across his jaw, his dark-blond hair askew, and of course pierced her with those blue eyes that could stop her thoughts cold.

She should not have been locked up in the same space with this man. Because the idea of disabling him and leaving him behind, scooting out with Luis, had turned her gut.

That was a big fat N.O. to her boss’s great suggestion. Unlike the military, she had the right to improvise.

There had to be another way to disentangle Luis from this man and leave him breathing. But first, she had to get him to trust her.

So she’d gotten up from her chair, let him take the seat, then walked into the kitchen and made him some coffee.

Delivered it with an arm over his shoulder, a whisper in his ear. “Keep us safe, Frogman.”

Then she’d patted his shoulder and headed to the sofa.

Maybe she shouldn’t have disabled his walkie. Desperate move to control the situation.

She didn’t know when she’d fallen asleep—maybe she trusted him too much—but she woke four hours later covered in a blanket, the sun streaming into the tall windows of the main room.

Aw.

The smell of breakfast cooking in the kitchen made her rouse.

She discovered Luis seated at the table, Stein at the stove, scrambling eggs.

“What’s going on?”

“Coffee?” He set a cup in front of her, returning her earlier favor.

“Thanks.”

He met her gaze, and maybe he had a game of his own, because his eyes had turned a deep, husky blue. And maybe she was tired too, because his smile reached in like the morning sun and hit places inside that weren’t ready for light.

She didn’t need caring for. Protection. Help.

She lifted the coffee, sipped, and glanced at Luis. “You all right?”

He was early thirties, a few years older than her. And he seemed rattled, holding his coffee cup with both hands.

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