Page 32 of A SEAL's Protection
A shadow moves across the back of the screen up on the ridge.
“Pause.”
She hits the pause button.
“Is there a way to zoom in?”
“Only a little bit. Without it connected to a monitor, we’re stuck with the viewfinder.”
She taps the zoom button twice, giving us a better look. Then she rewinds and hits play. Up on the ridge is a dark shape—a man dressed in black. The figure is blurred, but his stance is deliberate.
My gut clenches. I was right. This isn’t an amateur or another hiker. This is a pro.
Allegra leans closer to see, and I catch the earthy, strong scent of her after days on the road. My head spins, but I force myself to focus.
She frowns at the shape, then turns to me. Her face pales, lips parting. “Someone was watching.”
I want to shield her from the truth, but there’s no point. She needs to know what we’re up against.
“Yes. They were watching. But they’re not here now.”
She shivers, and I instantly put an arm around her. She doesn’t turn away, and I run my hand down her arm in soothing rhythmic strokes. She leans into me and lets out a long sigh.
“How do they know I’m here?”
She echoes the thought that’s been running through my mind. Someone talked. But who?
I want to reassure her, to tell her she’s safe. But I won’t lie to her.
Even by the most direct route, we’d still have to spend tonight in the wilderness. It’s only one more night, I tell myself, hoping like hell her stubbornness won’t get her in trouble. My one relief, and the reason I haven’t slung her over my shoulder to carry her out, is that they don’t seem to want to harm her. I don’t care if she loses her research. I’ll make damn sure she gets home in one piece.
We share a can of chicken soup and my last ration pouch. We eat in silence, then put the fire out, neither of us wanting to sit in the dark too long.
Allegra slips into the sleeping bag while I do a final walk of the perimeter. I keep low to the ground and take my time, stopping to listen to the sounds of the night, the scuffle of small animals and the rustle of leaves. Insects call to each other in the undergrowth. My ears tune in to the environment, and I’m satisfied nothing is out of place.
When I come back, I expect to find Allegra asleep, but she’s wide awake.
I slip in beside her, trying not to tug the sleeping bag away from her. Her body trembles next to mine, and I don’t know if it’s from cold or fear. I roll onto my side, and on instinct, wrap my arms around her.
“You’re cold.”
I pull her toward me, and she leans her head against my chest.
“I’m scared,” she whispers.
The admission sits heavy between us. I bet there’s not much that scares Allegra Simpson. I pull her closer, my lips finding the top of her head. I kiss her hair, wanting to tell her I’ll keep her safe, that there’s nothing to be scared of. But I can’t lie to her. I’ll protect her as best I can, but the truth is, I don’t know what we’re dealing with out here.
I keep all of this to myself, pressing another kiss to her forehead.
She doesn’t pull away. Instead, she shuffles higher, her breath warm against my cheek. And then her lips brush mine.
I search her face in the dark, kissing her cheeks, her eyes, her mouth. She doesn’t pull away. She meets me with soft, deliberate kisses.
Our tongues meet, and the kiss grows hungry, then pulls back, insistent then uncertain. Heat and hesitation collide until we both surrender to the warmth of each other’s lips.
In the darkness, I can’t see her. I feel my way with lips and hands, running them down her back. She shifts to press closer, her body molding to mine, soft curves meeting hard planes.
Her hands slide tentatively over my hips and across my chest, roaming over parts of me that haven’t been touched in a long time. Heat awakens in me with every movement.
