Page 30 of Emi's Hero

“Still weak, I take it,” he murmured against her temple. “I can help with that.” Before she could protest, he scooped her up in his arms.

Her arm looped naturally around his neck, bringing her face close to his. “I could’ve walked,” she said.

George cocked an eyebrow. “And spoil my clumsy attempt at chivalry?”

“I wouldn’t want to damage your frail male ego, now would I?” As soon as the words left her lips, she clapped a hand across her mouth, her eyes widening. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

He grinned. “Why would you be sorry? That was funny. It’s nice to know that, after all this time being held hostage, you still have a sense of humor.” His smile faded. “But, seriously, if this bothers you, I can set you on your feet.”

She shook her head. “No. Now that I’m here...”

George’s grin was back as he carried her to the bed, laid her gently against the mattress and tucked the sheet and blanket around her. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

No sooner had he released her, removing the warmth of his body from hers, than the chill she’d felt in the waters ofthe Pacific returned, along with the feeling of being alone and helpless.

A shiver shook her, followed by another. Soon, she was shaking violently beneath the covers.

George had gone back to the table where he’d left the tray. He lifted it and carried it into the bedroom, stopping when his gaze landed on her. His brow dipped low. “Geez, Emi, are you all right?”

She tried to nod, but her body was too tense, and her teeth chattered loudly.

George set the tray on the nightstand, leaned over her and tried tucking the blanket tighter around her.

When that didn’t slow the tremors, he toed off his shoes and slipped beneath the covers with her. He pulled her into his arms and held her, giving his body warmth to her. “I’m not trying to take advantage of you,” he said. “It was a choice between shared body heat or dunking you in a tub full of hot water.” He shook his head. “The tub would take longer, so body heat won.”

He lay beside her, his arm around her shoulders, his hand rubbing her bare arm, the friction and his nearness slowly dispelling the chill.

Emi burrowed into the curve of George’s arm, pressing her body as close to his as possible. Safe in his embrace, her eyelids drooped. Her last thought as she succumbed to a dreamless sleep was how would she ever be able to sleep alone again?

CHAPTER 8

George remainedbeside Emi through the night, fully dressed, barely moving and uncomfortable as hell. He fought the urge to shift, to turn and press his lips to hers. Given what she’d endured, she had a lot of healing to do, both mentally and physically. He didn’t want to be that guy who held her back from the road to recovery by doing something stupid like kissing her without her knowledge or acceptance.

Emi slept, her breathing slow and deep. She was so exhausted by everything that had happened to her that she didn’t twitch or moan throughout the night.

He’d conducted missions that had forced his team to remain in operational mode for over forty-eight hours. The adrenaline had only lasted so long and had eaten at their energy, leaving them at less than their top physical form or endurance. And they had been highly trained and in the best shape of their lives.

Emi had spent the past eight years confined to a small room and a tiny courtyard. Even if she’d worked out every day, her endurance wouldn’t be as built up as members of the active-duty Marine Force Recon.

When he’d laid down beside her, he hadn’t had the opportunity to turn off the lamp in the sitting room. Soft light poured across the floor into the bedroom.

In the early morning hours, when the sun had yet to clear the horizon, he slipped his arm from beneath her and leaned on his elbow, staring down at her sunburned face. Even painfully pink, she was beautiful. The soft glow from the sitting room caught the coppery highlights in her auburn hair splayed across the white pillowcase.

The woman was amazing, loyal to her daughter and strong in the face of adversity. She’d weighed the odds of escaping with a small child and had chosen to stay for her daughter’s sake.

George found it hard to believe this Fallon dude had been able to keep the compound and the people trapped inside a secret from other inhabitants of the island.

He supposed that trapping them and refusing to let them leave kept them from talking to others outside his prison compound.

George’s stomach rumbled. He glanced over at the nightstand where he’d set the tray loaded with food the night before. They hadn’t eaten the sandwiches he’d prepared. Now, over eight hours later, he didn’t trust that it would still be safe to eat them. Besides, it was almost time for breakfast on the ranch, and the Parkman Ranch chef was good.

George slipped out of the bed, grabbed his shoes and carried them into the other room. He sat in a chair and pulled on the shoes, his gaze going to Emi’s face, bathed in a soft golden light.

As much as he wanted to stay and watch over her while she slept, he also wanted to check in with Swede to see if he’d made any headway on finding the real name of Fallon Vance or the compound where Sara was being held.

He eased out of the room into the hallway, closing the door softly behind him. He headed for the kitchen, where he knew people would be moving about, preparing for a day on the ranch.

He could hear voices before he reached the kitchen.

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