Page 41 of Sweet Betrayal

“Tom, I—” Her voice caught. “I was so scared.”

They were both kneeling now. She reached for him, her fingers fisting his shirt.

“Shh... it’s okay.” He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. “You’re safe now. He can’t hurt you.”

She clung to him, trembling. He felt so solid, so reassuring. God, she needed his strength right now.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured against his chest. “I should’ve stayed put. I should’ve listened to you.”

His arms tightened around her. “Forget it. It’s over now. I’ve got you.”

She didn’t move right away. She couldn’t. Her whole body was trembling, adrenaline still rushing through her veins. But more than that, being wrapped in his arms grounded her. She felt the weight of his strength, the steady beat of his heart, the roughness of his shirt against her cheek. And for just a moment,the danger, her fear, their situation—all of it faded into the background.

Eventually, reluctantly, she pulled back. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t?—”

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice deeper than usual. “That’s why I’m here.”

His eyes dropped to her lips, and she felt the heat of his gaze. The sudden silence pressed in around them. He was looking at her like he wanted to kiss her. Like he was fighting the urge.

Her breath caught. One hand remained splayed on his chest, the other still curled around his back. Her body was flush against his, and every inch of her was aware of him—his warmth, his scent, the taut line of his muscles beneath her fingers.

Her lips parted slightly, not to speak, but because she didn’t know what else to do. She wanted to say something, anything, but the moment had taken hold.

He leaned in.

But then the roar of an aircraft engine shattered the quiet. The low drone built into a wail that broke the spell between them.

Tom jerked away.

“It’s preparing to take off,” she whispered, her heart still racing.

“Yeah, but we don’t want to be on it.”

She stared at him. “Why not?”

He grabbed her hand and helped her to her feet. “Come on. I need to show you something.”

She followed him toward a cluster of thorny bushes growing along the perimeter fence. They crouched low behind them, hidden from view. The guard’s absence hadn’t been noticed yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time.

“Look over there.” He pointed to the hangar where uniformed men were unloading crates from a truck. “Those aren’t UN Peacekeepers. That’s the Symanian Army.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “What? They can’t be.”

“Watch closely,” he said. “See the boxes? They’ve got the royal crest on them, and the men are wearing maroon berets. UN troops wear navy blue.”

She followed his gaze, heart sinking with every passing second.

“The guards are armed with AK-47s, not NATO rifles,” he continued, voice tight. “And t gear they’re carrying, that’s Symanian Special Forces kit, not UN-issue. Even their armor’s different.”

No! It couldn’t be.

He wasn’t done. “Look up. See that flag flying above the gate?”

Her gaze rose to the flagpole, and her stomach dropped.

She let out a broken sob as the truth came crashing down. “We’re not getting out of here, are we?”

He didn’t hesitate. He just looked at her.

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