Page 1 of Tempted by a SEAL

Prologue

Emma Williams glanced around the crowded bazaar in Kabul, tucking her long, flaming red hair more securely beneath her headscarf. Perspiration dampened the back of her neck as she took in the sights and sounds of the open market, and she cursed the thick hair she’d hidden. The clothing covering practically every inch of her skin.

She didn’t exactly blend in with the locals though, and with her fair, porcelain skin and bright hair, she stood out amongst the Afghanis even more than most Westerners.

And there was no need to draw any further attention to herself.

The smell of kabobs seasoned with fresh herbs filled the warm air, drifting throughout the marketplace, and she watched a man animatedly talking as he sold several plates of them to a family.

The long, tunic-style blouse she had on over her worn-in jeans fluttered in the slight breeze, and she would’ve killed for a breezy little sundress. Good heavens, even shorts and a tank top. Nothing like being covered from head to toe in the sweltering, 95-degree weather—well, not literally head to toe, she thought with a smirk.

She was wearing sandals.

But she looked exactly like every other Western aid worker here in Afghanistan—had blended in nicely with them for the past week and a half.

Never mind that she was really in the country conducting archeology research for the latest academic paper she was writing. Some of the locals might frown on a woman doing a “man’s” job, but aid workers were welcome here—as long as they didn’t reveal any skin, avoided all forms of alcohol, kept their hair covered, and never spent any time alone with a man.

Good heavens.

She respected the customs of other countries, but there was no way on Earth she could ever live here for an extended period of time, research or not.

“Look at those,” her colleague Lily said, pointing toward another merchant’s wares.

The dusty street they were walking along was lined up and down with vendors—booth after booth was filled with spices, traditional Afghani clothing, scarves, jewelry, and fresh fruits and vegetables. Colorful, woven tapestries fluttered in the slight breeze, and Emma’s eyes were drawn to the tables of painted pottery that Lily was pointing to.

Some of the vases would look fabulous on an end table at her flat back in London, but it would be difficult to transport them safely back in her rush to leave in the morning.

Guilt seeped through her at the thought of leaving her colleagues and friend, but she didn’t exactly have any other options.

“Beautiful,” Emma agreed. “I’d probably break them on the flight back though.”

Lily laughed, her light brown waves peeking out from her own headscarf. “You’re here six months, right? I’m sure you can figure out how to safely pack them in your suitcase by then. Just wrap them up in your clothes or buy one of those gorgeous tapestries. I’m thinking of getting one for my apartment back home.”

Emma smiled, nodding slightly at her American friend. Emma had gone through a painstaking process to obtain the necessary visas and paperwork to come to Afghanistan posing as an aid worker. Her friend was here for legitimate reasons—to actually help the people of this country. To work here for the duration of her visa.

But after the information Emma had accidentally uncovered this week?

She shuddered despite the heat.

No. She absolutely needed to return to London as quickly as possible.

Her eyes swept across the bazaar, making sure there was nothing out of the ordinary. Double checking to ensure she wasn’t being followed.

Yes. She had to go back to London. It would be safer for everyone that way.

A group of men talking loudly by one stall in the market caught her attention, and she neatly turned around, walking in another direction as her pulse pounded and adrenaline surged through her veins. Fear clutched her chest, and her eyes scanned the crowd mingling there.

She took a deep breath as she quickly hurried away, leaving Lily behind her.

They most certainly weren’t the men one of her other colleagues had said were asking about her yesterday.

They couldn’t be.

The market was filled with people, young and old, foreigners and locals alike, and she was letting her imagination get carried away.

It was bad enough she’d already drawn unwanted attention to herself. Gossip spread like wildfire about foreigners here, especially Western women, and the last thing she needed was more prying eyes. She’d snooped where she shouldn’t have while conducting her research a few days ago, and it apparently hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Wait up!” Lily called out, hurrying after her.

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