Walking away wasn’t an option anymore.

***

Ajaya shuffle-walked beside his two “guards” and tried like hell not to wet himself. He wanted to run away into the dark night and just disappear, except there was no place to hide even if he could get past the fences and captors.

He could only stick by the two agents leading him to his quarters—if that was really where they were taking him. He understood too well about prison cells and torture chambers.

He was so damn scared and tired. It had been a dangerous move climbing onto that helicopter. But at that moment he had been more afraid of the people chasing him than the aircraft he had run toward. All he had been able to think about was leaving, flying as far away as possible. He’d been terrified one of the hostages would recognize him and accuse him of horrible things. God, how he envied them being able to leave. Even now, he could see some of the hostages in the distance loading up on a plane to go.

He prayed the interrogators believed him when he said he wanted to get away. That much was true. He had even offered up the information about the pattern in the cloth to make them trust he told the truth.

But it was so scary figuring out how much to say without getting himself in trouble if the others took him back.

Keeping pace with his silent guards into the dimly lit night, he resisted the urge to ask them where they were going. To beg them to help him escape to… Where? He had nowhere to go. He just wanted to be alone and safe for one night. Just one night to sleep with a full stomach and no fears.

“Sir, where are you taking me?” he asked the one who had been called Mr. Smith. The fact that he had not been passed over to people in uniform frightened him. He should not warrant this level of attention.

“As I told you earlier, we are escorting you to a room.” Mr. Smith walked soundlessly. The guy was downright creepy with his dark suit and black hole eyes that didn’t have any emotion. “There will be a guard outside your door—for your protection too—until we check out your story.”

“Why would I lie?” He sounded desperate, he knew, but maybe that was good.

“Because you have been identified as one of the kidnappers.”

“I am just a kid.” A kid who felt a million years old.

“All the more reason for us to look out for your safety as well.” Mr. Smith’s jacket parted to reveal a gun.

The other man, Mr. Brown, stopped outside a concrete block building. “Let’s get the kid a Happy Meal and tuck him into his race car bed. I’m beat.”

Beat? Ajaya flinched back, pressing his spine against the warm wall.

That word must mean something different than he thought. Because beating… He swallowed down vomit.

If he could just go back in time. Back to the school where he’d been sent after his family died. He’d been so intent on revenge he had been willing to sign on, thinking he would be a warrior.

Instead, they’d turned him into a murderer.

If these men beside him learned the things he had done, they wouldn’t be offering him Happy Meals or anything else. He wasn’t innocent anymore. He couldn’t go back to the school, and he certainly did not want to go back to the people who’d taken him.

But he could not stay here much longer. They would lock him up for life once they learned everything about his past.

He scraped his fingers along the rough exterior, wishing he could anchor himself to the spot. Mr. Smith unlocked the door and swung it wide. Two uniformed guards with machine guns slung over their shoulders stepped out and flanked either side of the door.

Mr. Smith swept a hand toward the open door. “Here we are. Your room.”

Ajaya peeled himself off the wall and inched inside. Warily.

He looked from side to side at the clean cool space with a big bed on one side. He found his boxed “happy meal” on a small table. They were obviously trying to lull him. To win him over. It was going to take more than food and a bed. The others had tried that and he wouldn’t be cheaply bought again.

Still, he smiled his thanks and prayed they would leave faster. He just wanted to be alone to eat and shower.

And plan.

He hadn’t decided how to get out of here yet, but if he bided his time long enough he would come up with a plan. He still had more information to share, later, if he needed it. For now they would be busy figuring out the secrets encrypted into the pattern on the cloth. Although once they translated the writing, he suspected they would never unravel the code. That was probably the only thing keeping him alive.

Because even though he’d needed to hide here from dozens of monsters out to get him, there were monsters here too.

***

Stella jogged down the outdoor steps—über careful not to brush against Jose—as they made their way through the base, back to the command center in the hangar.

She’d been foolish to think she could share a room with him for even a few hours and suffer no consequences. More than just memories of making love tormented her. She may have been asleep most of the time, but being so close to him knocked the props out from under her self-control. Being with him, curled up close to his warm, familiar body, and talking to him taunted her with how well they fit in more ways than just sex. She missed him. She ached to be with him, and she didn’t know how to stuff down those feelings again.

And a nighttime stroll sure as hell wasn’t helping matters.

At least she was wearing more than a robe now. After bolting off the bed to put distance between her and the memories of her first time sleeping with Jose, she’d rushed into the bathroom to change into jeans and an embroidered tunic.

The past few days of captivity must have stripped away her ability to put up walls. She needed to get back to work, to refocus her thoughts and numb her emotions. Above all, she needed to keep things light, superficial.

She wrapped her arms around herself. “The lights are off in the chow hall. I sure hope they sent some boxed meals to the hangar.”

His boots thudded a steady pace beside her. “Remember when we went out to eat in Egypt?”

Gulp. Apparently he wasn’t going to follow her lead on small talk. “How could I forget our dinner by the Nile? I recall every word we said, and yes, I remember staying in the hotel with you and making love with you for the first time. It would be an obvious lie to say otherwise.”

She walked faster.

So did he. “Me too.”

Anger fed off her simmering sexual frustration. She stopped abruptly, her gym shoes squeaking as she pivoted to face him. “Why in the world would you bring that up now?”

He clasped her elbow, pulling her closer, the deserted walkway giving an illusion of privacy—intimacy. “You want the truth? Here it is. The past month without you has been hell.” His voice went raw. “Then thinking you would die in that camp took hell to a whole different level.”

“Jose,” emotion clogged her throat, “of course there are still residual feelings. But that doesn’t mean…”

“No. Not residual or leftover or fading feelings.” He caressed her face. “I’ve decided I’m not sure how I can live the rest of my life without you.”

His touch was so strong and tender on that star-filled night… it was all too much. She swayed closer to him, her br**sts brushing the familiar hard wall of his chest. “You’re not playing fair.”

“None of this is fair, Stella.” His dark eyes held her with a shivery intensity. Night sounds reverberated in the distance—a Jeep inside the base, a wild beast stirring outside. “How is it fair that we would fall in love with each other when we have such a fundamental difference of opinion about what constitutes the perfect life together?”

“One of us would have to compromise.” She couldn’t douse the whisper of hope smoking through her that they were even having this discussion.

He stroked down along her arm, just a simple caress that stirred her more than a kiss from any other man. She’d been drawn to Jose on a deep and undeniable level from the first moment she’d seen him. She just hadn’t expected chemistry and kismet to have such a harsh sense of humor. Just looking at Jose now hurt so badly she fought the urge to fall to her knees.

“What if I said,” he swallowed hard, “that I’m willing to do whatever you want?”

For a greedy instant, she wanted to throw her arms around his neck and hold on, to say to hell with the smart decision or the inevitable. She just wanted him and would give up anything, do anything to be with him. Until reason smothered the whisper of hope before it could reach a full flame. They needed to find a way to accept each other rather than change each other.

“I would say you’re breaking my heart. I would also say I can’t be happy if what I’m doing makes you unhappy.” She held onto his elbows, her nails digging in deep as if she could hold onto this moment, hold onto him. “Truly, Jose, this is pointless and we both know it. We’re only delaying the inevitable.”

Even as she hoped he would tell her she was wrong, she couldn’t miss the frustration tightening his jaw.

His hands slid from her face to her shoulders. “I think you’re the one not being honest with me or yourself. I offer to give you whatever you want and you still turn me down? Who’s really afraid of the perfect life?”

His accusation made her gasp, each wording slicing clean through her. It wasn’t true, damn it. She’d poured her entire heart and dreams into their relationship. She tipped her head back to blink away tears blurring the stars.

“Shit,” he cursed softly.

Just as bullets pocked the ground at her feet.

Chapter 8

Jose hooked his arm around Stella’s waist and slammed them both against the wall. Gunfire popped from the other side of the building and damn it, he could use some professional distance right now. Even knowing she was a trained agent didn’t stop him from wanting to wrap himself around her and insulate her from danger.

But he also had a duty to protect their base, the best way to keep her safe. He whipped his weapon from the holster. A klaxon wailed, waning and increasing, pulsing through the organized chaos. People on foot raced for cover while the armored trucks squealed to a halt as personnel inside went into attack mode.

No enemy forces were in sight. Gunfire and mortars all came from outside the fence in distant tree lines and from behind three crappy trucks. Security forces in the watchtowers returned fire. The too damn familiar sounds of battle swelled.

A whistle sounded, the distinct piercing wail of a…

“Incoming!” he shouted, hooking an arm around Stella’s waist a second before the rocket-launched grenade exploded twenty yards away. Concrete spewed into the air like volcanic ash. He tucked Stella closer, debris stoning his back. Even with his body on high alert, still he couldn’t help but catch the scent of her hair, the softness of her body.

Damn it, she distracted him, made him weak when he needed to be strong more than ever.

She wriggled in his arms and yelled, “We need to find better cover.”

“Roger,” he answered, already scanning for the closest door, assessing to see if it would be locked or open.

Fine-tuning his ears, he listened for the direction of the attacking fire. “Stella, the battle’s winding down.”

“Or they’re reloading.”

Still, the gunfire diminished, becoming more sporadic by the minute. As quickly as the attack began, it was over. Two of the rusted out trucks beyond the gate now were in flames. The third truck raced away, spewing a cloud of camouflaging dust in its wake.

The siren wailed in the aftermath, and shouts from within the base grew louder along with the echo of something else… Something unexpected. Barking? He peered around the corner and a big-eared mutt streaked out into the open road.

Three airmen sprinted after the blur of reddish brown dog. Shouts of, “Pumpkin, Pumpkin, stop, sit. Come on… Damn it…” made it clear the pooch wasn’t new to the neighborhood.