Cindy Dees - Special Forces - The Spy

Nope, nope, nope. Not going there.

Quickly, he tucked the blanket around the sides and back of her bra, too. “If Mahmoud gets any crazy ideas, that’ll absorb the worst of the impact from his fists. It’ll still hurt like hell, mind you, but maybe you won’t bruise so badly or break any ribs.”

“Why are you doing this for me?” she mumbled as he tugged her shirt into place once more and stood back to observe his handiwork.

She looked a little thicker than before, but he didn’t think the other men had been paying all that close attention to her, based on how they’d treated her so far. She’d been a target to them. An object to be seized and stolen. Not an actual human being.

“Do you by any chance know how to take a punch?” he asked in a low voice.

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

This time it was his brow that twitched into a frown. How on earth did she know how to get punched? That wasn’t the sort of thing many people had practical experience with. Not even graduates of West Point. He prayed she’d tried boxing at some point in her past, and not any less savory possible sources of the knowledge.

“Try not to dislodge that padding. I may not get a chance to fix it before you need it.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled. She looked up at him without warning, and their gazes locked. It was all right there in her eyes. Naked fear, confusion, questions.

She whispered, almost as if she wasn’t even aware of saying the words aloud, “Am I going to die?”

“Not if I can help it,” he answered, before he could stop to think about the words. An urge to wrap her in his arms, to surround her in safety and comfort, nearly overcame him. His arms even started to lift toward her.

No! He mustn’t give himself away to her! Both their lives depended on him, and he had to keep his cover intact until they got out of here. He looked at her in silent apology, willing her to understand. To trust him a little bit longer.

She frowned faintly as if she sensed his unspoken message but was confused by it. “Why would you help me?” she whispered.

He stared at her, frustrated at his inability to answer her truthfully. God knew, she deserved a straight answer. “I can’t tell you. But I promise you this—I will do everything in my power to get you out of this alive and unharmed.”

She weighed his words, his sincerity—heck, him—for a long time. Then she nodded, apparently accepting him at his word. “Okay, then,” she breathed. “Thanks again.”

“No problem. I’m gonna be sleeping down here with you tonight. If you need anything, let me know. Quietly. Honestly, the quieter and less trouble you can be, the better.”

“Don’t draw attention to myself, in other words?” she asked.

“Exactly. I’ve learned that Out of Sight, Out of Mind is a good motto around these guys.”

She stared hard at him, and mentally he cursed at himself for having been too revealing with that comment. He spun away from her and jogged upstairs to deliver the camera to Mahmoud.

Mission complete, he came back down and wrapped up in his bedroll at the foot of the stairs. He mustn’t give away to her who he was. Not yet.

He tried to sleep, but it eluded him. Instead, he spent the time wondering who on earth she was. How did an army officer, obviously in fighting physical shape, end up in Houma, Louisiana? There wasn’t an active military base anywhere near that town. Was she on leave, maybe? Visiting family in the area?

He could only be grateful for whatever twist of fate had thrown Piper in his path. She’d been braver and calmer than any woman should be about being kidnapped at gunpoint, thrown in a van and driven hundreds of miles into the wilderness. He just needed her to be brave for a little while longer. Just until Mahmoud revealed his orders, now that the sleeper cell had been activated.

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