Page 48 of Hunter's Mission

Pushing back from me, she shook her head wildly. “Nothing.”

“Layla, talk to me. You can tell me anything.”

The pain in her eyes nearly cut my fucking heart out.

“Did she die in a fire? Is that it?”

Her head slumped forward like she was looking at her navel. “No. No, she didn’t die.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.” I urged her to lean against me again. “Get some rest. We have a big day tomorrow.”

She settled against me, but she was all rigid.

“Relax, Layla. This will all be over tomorrow. I promise.”

Her shoulders softened against me. “Thanks for saving my life.”

“I haven’t saved you yet.”

She cruised her hand along my arm, and it felt way better than it should. “You will.”

“That’s the plan,” I said, trying to brush off the compliment. Truth was, saving Layla was more than just a mission to me now. It was my everything. My heart raced as I fought to focus on our surroundings rather than the woman in my arms and the lingering taste of her on my lips.

She deserved a man better than me. Someone who didn’t have so much bullshit crashing through their mind.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, settling against me, her body was warm and comforting in the darkness.

“Go to sleep, Layla.” I tightened my grip around her, and she seemed so frail in my arms. But she wasn’t. Layla was brave. Any woman who came to the Amazon jungle to do research had some serious balls. This was no place for the weak.

I turned off my headlamp and pulled it back onto my neck so it was ready to use and blackness swallowed us again.

As my eyes adjusted to the moonlight filtering through the foliage, the jungle around me took on its own life. The trees towered above us like skyscrapers. The river bubbled and splashed over rocks. The damn bugs buzzed in my ears. I’d been in fucked-up places before where I had mud to my eyeballs and non-stop rain and insects that made me itch for weeks.

Somehow, out here with Layla, in her territory, it was also amazing.

As the smell of earth and decaying leaves filled my nostrils, my subconscious teased me with thoughts of us being together and having a life free from scars and secrets after this bullshit was over. Then I remembered who I was, and who she was and knew that was never going to happen.

Sleep came in fitful bursts, where I dreamed of Layla in my arms, and Booker trapped in the chopper and armed gunmen putting a bullet in my back.

The smell of smoke jerked me awake.

Fear clawed at my mind as I shook Layla. “Wake up.”

Her eyes popped open. “What’s wrong?” She sat up.

“Smoke. Can you smell it?” Standing, I adjusted my rifle and scoured the bushes.

“Do you see anything?” She dusted her hands on her bare legs.

“I see enough to know it’s time to get moving. So, let’s roll.”

“Okay, just, um . . . give me a sec. I. . ..” She indicated to the bushes.

“Roger that.” I strode away, heading for the mammoth rock we’d had to dodge around last night. It seemed even bigger today. I took a moment to take a piss too. After I zipped up, I drank from my water bottle, and although the urge to wolf down another protein bar was huge, I forced the hunger pains twisting in my stomach to the back of my mind and peered into the bushes ahead.

“I’m ready.” Layla stepped over a small shrub, showing off her long legs and her very sexy denim shorts. Hot damn.

Fucking focus, Hunter.

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