Page 47 of Dangerous Devotion

The big question was why Simpson would have knowledge about a bomb that had been planted by a terrorist.

Henner and May reached their vehicle, throwing waves of farewell to the major general. As soon as the car doors slammed shut, they burst out talking at the same time.

“The bomb is in that hangar.”

“At least the bomb is far away from people.”

She blinked at him. “You followed the tracker to the hangar?”

He nodded and started the engine, eager to get off this base—and May to safety. He might have the most at stake in coming here, but she’d made herself a target too. Not only did Simpson have to buy their story, but the kid had seen them both.

She threw out a hand and clasped his arm before he could put the car in reverse. “Maybe we shouldn’t go just yet.”

He eyed her. “What do you want to do? Sneak into the hangar?”

A long second ticked by. She dropped her hand from his arm. “You’re right. It’s not like they wouldn’t keep the place locked.”

“Oh, I can blow the door easy enough.”

She gaped at him.

“I’m a breacher.”

“Of course I knew that. I wasn’t thinking.”

He only grunted as he backed out of the parking spot and turned the car toward the exit.

“You’re sure the bomb is in that hangar?” Her voice was pensive, giving him the impression that she was questioning every person, place and thing they’d just encountered—as she should. In games like this, things were rarely what they seemed.

He nodded. “The tracker is never wrong.”

“AJ…”

“Yes?” They approached the gates and rolled past the guard.

“Can you really get inside that hangar?”

He gave her a sharp look. “I can. What are you thinking?”

She slowly shook her head. “Nothing. It was a stupid thought.”

“What is?”

“Blowing the door that’s hiding the bomb is a terrible idea.”

* * * * *

The hotel room that AJ managed to snag for them was no presidential suite. The boring four walls felt like they were closing in on May, and too much furniture crowded the space.

She paced back and forth in front of the king-sized bed, able to take no more than four strides before she was hemmed in by an old pedestal table surrounded by two chairs, all about a decade old and well-worn.

During their ride from the fort, she had unthinkingly chewed off one of her fingernails, and that annoyed her to no end. She spent years breaking the bad habit, only for her control to slip at the smallest risk?

She defused bombs for god’s sake. Facing down the major general and the kid from the military truck didn’t posemoreof a threat than that.

Moving a step away from the table again, she whirled and set off in the other direction. AJ stood next to the bed, going through his shopping bags. Clothing was strewn over the mattress.

She stopped pacing. “What are you looking for?”

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