Page 25 of Tempted by a SEAL

Hunter glanced up, watching as the door rattled.

Four-three-two—Boom!

Kicked open in no time.

He grabbed Emma and pulled her into the hall on the fourth floor. Didn’t look back as they ran. It looked exactly like the floor they’d just left. Carpeted hallway. Closed doors. But it was better to run to another part of the building before the men began shooting at them from above in the stairwell.

“Holy crap!” Emma said as they ran down the hall. “Who were those guys?”

“Friends of the ones from the pub. They probably all tie back to the terrorist group after you. There’s another stairwell this way,” he said, hustling her along. His arm went around her waist, his hand securely gripping her hip. Guiding her in front of him.

“Are you sure?”

“I memorized the floorplan of the hotel when I checked in.”

Hunter didn’t bother checking this stairwell, just pushed the door open, tugging Emma alongside him. Keeping his arm snared around her slender waist. If someone came from behind, he could shield her with his body. Protect her.

But when they were out in the open?

He needed to move her somewhere safe.

“They’re probably going down to the lobby. The other stairs are near the front of the hotel, but we should be able to go out the side. Hell. I hope Mason doesn’t run into those assholes on his way back.”

“I hear sirens,” Emma said. “The police are already on their way. Oh my God—all those poor people hiding in their rooms. They must be scared out of their minds!”

“No doubt someone called the police after hearing the gunshots. They’ll probably lock down the building when they arrive. But we don’t know how many of those guys are here coming after you, which is why we’re leaving.”

“This is bloody unbelievable,” she muttered, hustling along in front of him. “My entire life is turning into some sort of action movie—and I hate action movies.”

Hunter smirked, watching her red hair swish back and forth as she ran down the stairs. This was not time to be ogling Emma, but hell.

She was gorgeous no matter what she was doing.

They ran down the stairs to the first floor, Hunter pausing at the door that opened to the lobby. Ten feet away was an exit to a side street. They just had to cross a small part of the lobby and get through the door. Ten feet until they were out.

“We can wait for the police,” Emma said breathlessly. “Turn over the information.”

“We can. They’ll be here shortly—”

A door to the stairwell above them suddenly burst open, banging loudly against the wall, and footsteps pounded down the stairs. Hunter grabbed Emma and pushed open the door as a man came running down the stairs from several floors above. The concierge was ducking behind his desk as hotel security rushed about the lobby with walkie-talkies, and the man behind the check-in counter was talking rapidly on the phone, nervously eyeing the front door.

Hunter didn’t speak with any of them, just pushed Emma through the door to the side street. Glanced around.

Sirens sounded in the distance, but he wasn’t waiting for backup.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Don’t know. Don’t care.” Hunter hustled her over to a parked car, dropping his backpack to the ground and grabbing his tools.

“Are you going to steal a car?” she asked incredulously as he quickly picked the lock.

“Borrow. I’m borrowing a car. Go around and climb in,” he said, ducking down to hotwire the engine. It purred to life as Emma sank into the passenger seat, and a moment later he was pulling out into traffic, watching in the rearview mirror as a man came bursting out the side door of the hotel. He clenched the steering wheel, watching as the man looked both ways, searching for them.

As much as he’d love to peel out of there, the God-awful traffic in London prohibited it. And there was no point in drawing attention to themselves when they’d left unnoticed. Were hiding in plain sight. Someone would certainly notice their car missing, but those assholes after Emma were momentarily without a clue.

He signaled and made a right turn, cursing under his breath. Trying to get used to driving on the wrong side of the car. The wrong side of the road.

Fucking hell.

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