Brynn Kelly - A Risk Worth Taking

“So...you came here because there was no one else available...?”

Shite. “Uh, well, I know the territory, so I was the obvious choice.” And the fact that Samira was the one at risk? Well, Jamie hadn’t needed time to stop and weigh things up. Some would call that his downfall. That and dopamine. “And it sounded like a bit of fun.”

“Huh.”

What did she want to hear? That he hadn’t stopped thinking about her in thirteen long months? In France she’d made it excruciatingly clear she wanted him gone, stat. And his conscious brain had told him she was dead right, for both their sakes. Other parts of him, on the other hand...

He stole a sideways glance at her. Whatever her reason for pushing him away, he’d swear indifference wasn’t it.

“A bit of fun,” she echoed. “Kidnapping a woman from a train station, hijacking an ambulance, trespassing through a hospital, impersonating a doctor, lying to police, stealing a car, drugging a man.”

“Ah, but you’re forgetting the time I saved a man’s life while under fire using a rare and controversial technique, outran a helicopter assault, engaged in hand-to-hand combat to rescue said woman, outwitted the entire Met Police force and escaped under the noses of MI5 and MI6.”

“MI6?” she said, looking around.

“Oh, we left them way behind.”

“I’m not sure if you’re brave or reckless.”

He smiled. “Definitely reckless. You, on the other hand, are brave.”

“Hardly. I’m only doing this because I have no choice.”

He shrugged. “So am I.”

“What do you mean you don’t have a choice?”

“Well, I wasn’t going to let you walk into the hands of those bastards, was I? And with guys like Flynn and Angelito—when they say they need you, you don’t say no, regardless of the cost.”

Samira was silent a minute. She pulled her glove back on. “You shouldn’t have come.”

And there it was. What had he expected? Jamie, you have to leave , she’d said that morning in France, pushing away the croissants he’d bought from the boulangerie while she’d slept in. This was a mistake.

“Samira, look, it’ll take—what?—half a day to get this evidence off to Tess? Then you’ll never have to see me again, if that’s what you want.”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Well, that was something. “Then what did you mean?”

“I mean, it’s dangerous to be here with me.”

His eyes widened. Tell me about it.

“No, I don’t mean that, either.”

Shite, how did she follow that train of thought?

“I’m not very good at explaining myself. I mean, I’m relieved you’re here. But being around me makes you a target.”

“I know that. I’m good with that.” Her gaze practically itched the side of his face.

“Did I ever tell you how my fiancé died?”

Whoa. He hadn’t seen that coming. “I don’t believe so, no.” Come to think of it, she hadn’t mentioned the guy at all in France.

“He died in a US drone strike in Somalia after I called his cell phone,” she said, quiet and precise. “That’s how Hyland’s goons tracked him down—they’d been waiting for him to break cover.”

“A military strike? How’d Hyland get away with that?”

“Tess reckons he arranged for the US to get intel that a terrorist leader was hiding out where Latif was staying, and then pressured the president to deal with it. Latif was collateral damage, officially. Of course, by then Latif had given enough information to Tess to bring down Hyland’s former company and his cronies, but the senator slipped the noose. We think Latif had been hunting evidence that could bring Hyland down, too. And now Hyland wants me gone, thinking I know too much. Which, unfortunately, I don’t.”

“Oh Jesus. I knew some of that but not all. I’m sorry. And we think Charlotte now has this evidence? She works for GCHQ, right? Why wouldn’t she just tell her bosses?”

“Maybe she did. Or maybe she doesn’t know who to trust. Governments are loath to intrude on other governments’ dirty secrets. And everyone has secrets.” She sat straighter. “Anyway, my point is that if I’m a target, you’re a target. And I already lost one...”

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