Page 2 of Tempted by a SEAL

“I just remembered something I have to pick up,” Emma said, glancing back toward Lily’s flushed face. Her eyes trailed back to the group of men again, and she picked up the pace. “Meet you in ten minutes by the fruit stalls?”

“Oh, sure,” Lily said, looking confused as she fell in step beside Emma. “I thought you wanted to look at the tapestries with me.”

“I will. I just need to purchase something else first.”

“More tea?” Lily joked.

“They’re certainly a people after my own heart,” Emma said, relaxing slightly the further they walked.

“Not mine. They’re aren’t nearly enough coffee shops here in Kabul.”

“You Americans and your coffee,” Emma teased. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you drinking that harsh, bitter brew first thing in the morning.”

Lily laughed. “Give me a few weeks. I’ll change your mind.”

“Highly unlikely. I’m a true Brit, born and bred. I’ll meet you back by the fruit stalls in a few minutes,” she said, pausing in the middle of the bazaar. “We can select a tapestry then if you like.”

“All right,” Lily agreed. “I’ll meet you then. Catch ya later.”

Emma watched her friend walk away before turning and continuing in the opposite direction. Having no intention of returning.

If those men she’d seen were the ones who’d been asking about her, there was no sense in dragging Lily into her problems. No point in potentially putting her in harm’s way. It was better that Emma had ducked out of sight before they spotted her.

Lily would no doubt wonder where she was when she didn’t show up in ten minutes, but if it meant keeping her safe? It was quite worth the secrecy and any hurt feelings that might ensue.

Emma shifted her tan leather backpack from one shoulder to the other, her stomach fluttering with nerves as she thought of the documents she’d discovered during her research the other day that were stuffed into the lining. She was catching a flight out tomorrow, and if she could just continue acting as if everything was normal for the next twenty-four hours, she’d be back in London in no time.

She had several academic journals interested in her research and was quite looking forward to some quiet time alone her materials, laptop, and a hot cup of tea.

And as for the documents she’d discovered?

A trip to the police would be in order as soon as she returned to London—or perhaps MI6. But it’s not like she could just waltz in there announcing she’d found what looked to be a list full of targets for a terrorist attack. The guards certainly wouldn’t let her just stroll into headquarters unannounced proclaiming she had that type of information. They probably wouldn’t even believe her.

Perhaps some of her colleagues at the museum had government contacts she could reach out to. Officials who would believe the documents she’d found and insist on seeing them as soon as possible.

Certainly going to the police was necessary at the bare minimum.

Worry churned through her stomach.

Ducking between two booths, she set her backpack on the dusty ground and lifted a vase up to carefully inspect it. Maybe she should purchase one after all and stuff the papers she’d found into it. Her backpack seemed too obvious of a hiding spot.

But what if the vase broke?

Anyone who saw it would certainly notice what she’d hidden.

Wonder why she’d stuffed papers in there.

She tapped the vase with her fingertips, trying to determine how sturdy it might be, the gold band around her left ring finger glinting in the afternoon sunlight—you couldn’t be too careful as a woman traveling alone in certain areas of the world.

If the locals believed she was a married woman, then she was all for a little white lie.

A young boy working alongside his family in the booth smiled up at Emma.

“Buy for 1,200 afghanis.”

“No, thank you,” she said, politely shaking her head.

“Yes?” he asked.

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