Page 16 of Tempted by a SEAL

Loud laughter erupted from a group of men behind them, her head turning in their direction, and when she looked back toward Hunter and Mason, she was startled to see two Middle Eastern men seated at a table not far from them.

London was a huge, diverse city, with a population of nearly nine million people—but that didn’t stop her from trembling as her eyes took in the scar on one man’s cheek and the crooked nose of the other. As she recalled talking to them in the market in Kabul last week.

They’d blended in then, with traditional Afghani dress and beards.

But she’d recognize their faces anywhere.

“Shit,” Mason said at the same moment Hunter was on his feet.

Mason adjusted something in his ear, and she realized both of them were listening in on something. Or to someone.

Holy crap. Were they somehow involved with the men who’d kidnapped her? Were they after her, too?

Hunter moved toward her as Mason headed in the opposite direction, Hunter’s broad form blocking her view. He towered above her, his wide shoulders right in her line of vision as he gently wrapped his thick fingers around her forearm. “We have to get you out of here,” he said, ducking low so that his head hovered near hers.

His clean, spicy scent filled the air between them as her heart pounded.

As she panicked and couldn’t decide whether to stay with him or run.

“But how—what? I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Those two men you’re frightened of?” he asked, his voice gravel. “That’s whose conversation we’re listening in on. That’s who just spotted you.”

“You said you were in the military!” she accused, looking up at him. “What are you doing here in a London pub watching men like them?”

“We are,” Hunter assured her. “It’s long story. Which I’ll explain after we get you out the back door.”

“Why do I need to go out the back door?”

His blue eyes blazed. “Because they saw you. Mason is cutting them off. Now go!”

Emma gasped as Hunter crowded into her space, leaving her no choice but to step back.

Turn.

Run.

Her eyes scanned the pub, but everything else was normal—people laughing, throwing back drinks. The bartender sliding shots across the counter. More people coming in after work for a drink.

It was just her world that was unraveling around her.

She heard a table crashing to the ground behind her, men shouting. The sound of glass breaking.

Hunter’s large hand spread across her back, jolting her back into the present as his warmth seeped into her. As his presence behind her calmed her racing mind.

“They spotted you, Princess. Now move!”

***

Emma ran toward the emergency exit of the pub, the fire alarm sounding as she pushed open the heavy door. Hunter’s large frame loomed behind her, shoving the door the rest of the way open with ease as they exited onto the busy, traffic-filled street.

It was beginning to drizzle in typical London fashion, the drab sky perfectly mirroring her feelings. She ran to the corner, a red double-decker bus following a stream of taxis driving by. Leave it to her to escape the men in the pub but be stopped by the damn London traffic.

Tourists snapped pictures from the bus at the commotion behind her, and she hastened a glance back. Hunter was right behind her, his intense gaze sweeping the area as other onlookers stopped. With his jaw taut and fists clenched, he looked ready to take on anything or anyone who might come after them.

Not that one man was a match for the ones that had tried to grab her in Kabul.

“What about your friend?” she asked. “He’s still back in the pub!”

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