Page 75 of Hidden Attraction

“He never stays long.” A shadow of shame crossed Kareem’s face.

Alyssa stared at the dark screen, heart sinking, her fingers clenched against her thigh.

Julian pushed off the desk. “We almost had the bastard.”

“And we will again.” She reached out to touch his arm, almost believing what she said.

His dark eyes washed over her face. “We don’t have much time.”

They had a military transport waiting for them. While she had lost all track of time, she knew the clock was probably winding down faster than they wanted.

She threw a look at Kareem. “What do we do with him?”

Julian’s expression was too neutral.

She shook her head. “No.”

“There’s no other way.”

“You can’t just…” She waved a hand toward the man whose gaze bounced back and forth between them.

For a long moment, Julian didn’t speak or even blink. But she knew the SEAL in him was forming a plan.

When he took out his phone and spoke to someone on the other end of the line in clipped monosyllables, she held her breath. As soon as he ended the call, she searched his eyes.

The grim set of his jaw kept her from asking for particulars. But within half an hour, Commander Thorne’s assistant, Lieutenant Rezvan, showed up.

Julian propelled Kareem out of the office to meet him. As Rezvan stepped around the pool of blood surrounding one of her kidnappers, Alyssa twisted her face away. Her stomach pitched even as anger sparked like metal on pavement.

Julian handed over Kareem, briefing him in a few short words about the kidnapping and that he was trying to ransom an ambassador. “Take him to the base and lock him up.”

Rezvan gave a swift nod. “I’ll see to it.”

When Julian curled his fingers around her arm, even lightly, she winced, the tender bruises she bore complaining.

Julian gently held on to her elbow like she might shatter.

Alyssa didn’t protest. She didn’t have the strength, not yet. And something about the way he was hovering, hyper-alert, made her throat ache. His palm was warm and steady, grounding her even if the rest of her felt like it was still tied to that damn chair, fighting for breath.

“Julian…”

He looked at her, waiting.

“How did you find me?”

“Dante.”

“How?”

“Satellite feed.”

She touched her fingertips to her temple, the one that Kareem hadn’t bashed with the pistol. “My mind’s a little unsettled after what I went through, but that sounds confusing in a good moment.”

Then it hit her.

“Dante messed with my phone.”

He stroked his fingers over the curve of her cheek. “Thank Christ he did.”

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