Page 37 of Kidnapped By a SEAL

Turning off the water a few minutes later, he stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist. He scrubbed a hand over his jaw, deciding to let his short beard stay that way for another day or so. It was getting a little bit scruffy, but damn. He had other things to worry about.

He sauntered into the bedroom, surprised to find Emily awake.

“I heard the shower running,” she said, her cheeks pinkening slightly as she took in his muscular physique.

“I thought you were still asleep,” he said, meeting her gaze.

She shifted in front of him, and his chest inexplicably filled with pride. She was flustered around him. Attracted to him. She’d been curled up in his arms all night long and now seemed nervous that he was standing here half-naked.

He didn’t want her to be uncomfortable, but damn. Having her look at him like that had heat coursing through him. His gaze swept the room. “My bag’s still in the living room,” he said, his voice deep. “I should go get dressed.”

She nodded, and his lips quirked as she snuck another glance at him. Hell. Normally he’d be all over a woman the following morning—taking her again in bed, maybe pleasuring her in the shower as well.

But this?

He turned to go grab his stuff.

“I’ll just, uh, go shower, too,” she said.

He glanced back over his shoulder, noticing she was checking out his butt. “I’ll get dressed and check in with Hunter. Then I’ll see what we can find for breakfast.”

“Sounds good,” she said softly.

He left her there as he sauntered out of the room, smiling to himself as he walked down the hallway. Jesus. He was actually smiling over a woman he hadn’t even slept with. Well, he’d slept with her in the most literal sense. But he hadn’t had sex with her. Hadn’t seen her naked. Hell, he hadn’t even kissed her.

And he sure as shit wasn’t going to while he was supposed to be here protecting her.

He quickly dropped his towel in the living room and pulled on some clean clothes. Not that he expected Emily to follow him out here, but there was no need to make her any more uncomfortable.

Pulling out his phone, he texted Hunter.

Any updates? We’re at the cabin.

Hunter didn’t respond immediately, and Ryker strolled into the kitchen. He frowned as he opened the cupboards. There were some canned goods, as he expected, and some stale oatmeal. He’d go root around in his backpack and see what he’d grabbed from Emily’s place. He was happy he’d brought the ground coffee she’d just ordered with her groceries.

Who pulls into a cabin in the middle of the night and jokes about Starbucks?

A woman who’d been held prisoner, that’s who. She deserved every damn fancy Starbucks drink and restaurant meal in the world after what she’d gone through.

He wished they’d had time for some grocery shopping before they abruptly rushed out here. Hell, he’d have picked up stuff to make burritos, margaritas—the whole nine yards. Whatever she wanted. Instead, they’d rough it out here for a couple of days, and then when things died down, he’d bring her back home.

Simple as that.

His phone buzzed on the kitchen counter, and he glanced at the text.

The FBI has been searching for the suspects.

Surveillance footage shows they were in her condo building yesterday morning.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself. He quickly thumbed a response. If anything, leaving was the right thing to do. Izallah’s men had been looking for her. Hell.

He crossed back to the living room, digging through his bag. The bottom of it was still gritty with sand. Jesus. He’d barely been back and had already rushed off.

Ryker grabbed the few things he’d taken from Emily’s condo, stashing them on the table for the moment. It wasn’t much, but maybe a few small comforts from home would somewhat assuage the fact they had to hide out here for the time being.

The bathroom door in the hallway opened, and his jaw dropped open as Emily stepped out wearing only a towel. It crossed over her breasts, hitting her at mid-thigh, and he saw the small amount of bruising left on her ribs. He was crossing over to her before he thought better of it, and she looked up, her lips parting.

Her breasts rose up and down beneath the towel, and the scent of soap and whatever floral stuff she used wafted over him.

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