Page 31

E motion punched him in the throat. Damn if she didn’t make him feel like an ass for trying to do the right thing. He sank back against the trunk of a large tree, hidden from the sheds and barns but where he could watch the farm and the forest around them.

“Take off the pack. We’ll rest until dark.”

She did so, and he tugged her down until she sat between his spread knees.

She leaned against him and slowly began to relax. They’d been on the go for twelve hours straight, feeding off adrenaline with little in the way of food.

So much for planning. He’d relaxed his guard and almost gotten them both killed.

He had protein bars in his pack, but he was rationing them.

She hadn’t complained or whined, not even once, and he couldn’t help comparing her to his team who were among the best of the best.

She’d held up pretty damned well.

He rested his fevered face against her hair. Held her in his arms even though the one throbbed like a bitch and felt as if the muscle there had turned to hot lead .

How could something so small set his system into overdrive?

He understood the biology and knew thousands of men had been killed from infection following wounds gained in battle.

He couldn’t afford not to take an injury seriously, but dammit, he hated being the weak link.

Thank God he’d had all his vaccinations.

Rowena’s hair smelled like the river and like someone who’d finished a good sweaty hike.

He preferred it a thousand times over any French perfume.

He wanted to nuzzle the delicate skin beneath her ear, but he also knew he shouldn’t.

Whatever their current circumstances, Rowena Smith was way too young for him.

He knew where this hangup came from. His father had dumped his mother for a trophy wife when he was a teenager, and he’d despised the man from then on. His mom would turn in her grave at the idea of Kurt dating a much younger woman.

Or would she?

Perhaps he needed to stop imagining her judgmental reaction. It wasn’t his fault his father was an asshole. Nor Rowena’s. Neither of them were cheaters.

He pushed the thoughts aside. He barely had the strength to keep his eyes open, let alone anything else. No point torturing himself. He needed to conserve his strength.

He needed to save them both.

Slowly, Rowena’s breathing settled into a steady rhythm, and he knew the instant she fell asleep.

The shadows were lengthening, and the fever made it feel as if his head were glowing like a neon bulb. His mouth was parched, but he didn’t want to risk waking Rowena by pulling out a water bottle. Not yet. He kept his awareness wide—for pursuers or people simply walking through the woods.

Frogs croaked incessantly, and a couple of klipspringers pranced past like baby goats.

He was grateful this wasn’t a stronghold for big predators because he couldn’t fight off a kitten, let alone a lion right now—but leopards would be around.

Shit . He edged the pack closer so he could reach the knife if needed.

He eased the handgun out of his waistband and put it on the ground beside him.

He didn’t want to shoot anything and bring unwanted attention to them, but he didn’t want to be supper either.

They needed to get out of the mountains and head to the city. But if they were stopped and asked for papers along the way…

He couldn’t risk it.

Didn’t have a choice.

Stuck between the proverbial rock and a hard place.

The burner phone was tempting, especially while fighting this fever, but he knew Gilder was involved, and he knew the billionaire would be using all his resources to track him down for his own illicit reasons.

If it was Gilder and Leo Spartan who were after him, they’d already proven they’d stop at nothing to prevent Kurt from getting home and revealing what he knew about their association with Hurek.

What if it went deeper than a friendship from thirty years ago?

What other secrets were they desperate to conceal? Aside from the bombing of a civilian aircraft, which was a pretty giant fucking secret anyone would kill to keep.

Rowena’s hair tickled his nose, and he smoothed it down and then smiled at how relaxed she appeared in sleep.

If someone had told him two days ago that he’d be here cuddled up with Rowena Smith, a sexy, twenty-seven-year-old British national, or that they’d have become intimate last night he’d have thought they were out of their minds.

The situation had come out of left field, completely unexpected—both being on the run and having sex. The fact he was her first was something he needed to get over. What was virginity anyway, except the choices Rowena made about when and with whom she had sex?

Wasn’t he all about choice?

Damned right, he was.

He was grateful, not at being the first, but at being chosen at all .

He was a damned lucky guy.

His mind wandered to Bjorn and then to his team members back at Quantico. Had they caught the guy who’d killed Scotty and all those other people? Were Gold Team on a different op now? Were they safe?

Was his daughter crying over his death?

Remorse ate at him as dusk folded into darkness, but there was nothing he could do to change things. Not yet. Especially not when he felt as weak as a newborn.

He drifted off into a light doze. After an hour or so, Rowena jolted awake in his arms.

He squeezed her gently. “Shush. I’ve got you.”

She relaxed instantly, which made him feel like a fucking superhero when in reality he was a liability. She snuggled in for another moment and then rolled her shoulders and crawled onto all fours to turn to face him, slowly blinking awake.

“Pass me some water, would you?”

She gave him a bottle and took another for herself. “I’m going to assume we can refill these from a tap over there.”

He glanced at the farmstead, wishing his head wasn’t pounding like the inside of a drum at a Springsteen concert. There were lights on in some of the buildings but nothing that looked like a house or as if people were working. Not from this angle, anyway. Who knew what lay beyond the massive shed.

He finished the water and pulled a fleece from his pack, easing into it as he began shivering. Chills. He slipped the gun into his waistband and the knife into the side pocket of the pack. Pushed himself up off the ground. Clawed for stability as the world rushed around inside his head.

Rowena grabbed his good arm. “Are you okay?”

He leaned his head back against the rough bark and stared up through the leaves and branches at the night sky. “I’ve been better.”

She followed his gaze. “Can he see us? Even in the dark? ”

Kurt knew who she meant. Gilder. He was a scary adversary—a real James Bond villain.

“Some satellites can see in the dark.” Many could, but he didn’t want to worry her more than she already was.

“Depends if he happens to have one positioned directly above us at this exact moment in time.” He stared upwards for a full minute.

He didn’t see anything with the naked eye, which was something at least.

“Well, we can’t stay here forever.”

Patience clearly wasn’t her strong suit, but it could be taught—if she wanted to sign up for HRT and try out to be a sniper.

He rolled his eyes at himself.

“Let’s head to the buildings. We’ll look for somewhere with a small office area. See if we can find a first-aid kit or a stove or microwave where we can boil water and clean the shit out of this arm.”

Rowena put her arm around his waist but that pressed the handgun into his spine. He shifted and pulled it out, placed it in his fleece pocket even though it wasn’t ideal. She wrapped her arm around him again.

It felt amazing.

He wanted to ask her questions. About her life, her job, her friends. Now wasn’t the right time. His head was thick and fuzzy, and he had to concentrate on where he placed his feet so he didn’t stumble over the uneven surface.

They walked in silence across the field, and he was grateful for Rowena’s help which was beyond humbling for a man who’d overcome so many obstacles and passed so many tests in his career. To be brought low from such a minor wound was embarrassing. Not his fault, but it pissed him off.

At the edge of the main barn, he used the wall to prop himself upright as she scooted forward and peeked around the corner into the large space.

“I can’t see anything. It’s too dark.”

He pulled out his flashlight and handed it to her. She shone it around the interior .

“Empty,” she whispered.

Kurt eased around the corner looking for a telltale red or green box as Rowena tracked the beam across the walls, but there was nothing inside except a large tractor.

“Check inside the machine.” He nodded toward the vehicle, and Rowena dashed across the concrete floor, climbing up the steps and opening the driver’s door.

She disappeared inside but re-emerged a few moments later with a triumphant grin on her face, waving a small green box.

She climbed down and closed the door with a quiet bang that made him wince.

“Sorry,” she whispered before scurrying back to his side. “Let’s see if we can find a small kitchen area so we can get you cleaned up.”

Kurt nodded and fought off another wave of dizziness.

She caught his good arm and pulled him along. He hadn’t felt this out of it since he’d been best man for one of his old Army buddies about a decade ago. He hadn’t been drunk since.

They walked around the corner, and there was a shipping container obviously being used as an office. Rowena tried the door, but it was locked.

“Let’s go this way.” He pointed. “I suspect they employ seasonal workers who’ll need to be fed, so there has to be a kitchen somewhere.”

They struck out in the next two buildings but found what they were looking for in the third. It was open on three sides and looked like a canteen with a sink and refrigerator over at one end and two long trestle tables running down the middle.