72 Hours. Dana Marton

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72 Hours - Dana Marton

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with her. “I’m not leaving,” she said.

      WHAT in hell?

      “You’re leaving, babe, believe me. You’re leaving if I have to carry you.” His blood pressure was inching up. For some unfathomable reason, she didn’t comprehend that every second counted. Odd really, because Kate Hamilton was one sharp woman.

      “I’m not leaving the rest of the hostages to die. As soon as someone goes into the gym and realizes what you did, they’ll be massacred.” She was shooting him an accusing look, standing tall like some movie heroine.

      Oh, man. She had that stubborn determination in her fine eyes, the same rich green color as the highland forests of Scotland. And he knew from experience that meant nothing good.

      “I left them armed.”

      No way was he going to stop to have a fight about this with her. He scanned the basement instead, which seemed closed to the outside, the only exit being a staircase that led up to the ground floor. He could see a few spots on the brick walls where at one point in the past there had been basement windows to the street, but they were walled in. And since the building was an old one, the outer walls were close to three feet wide, solid brick and mortar. They couldn’t even dig their way out.

      “They are admin staff and people from the kitchen.” Kate wouldn’t let the subject drop. Her full and delicately shaped lips were set in a strict line of displeasure.

      “The rebels won’t kill them. They need someone to negotiate with.” He eyed the stairs and calculated.

      “They can negotiate with the ambassador,” she countered, backing away from him as he began stalking her. “The rebels have him someplace else in the embassy. He was taken away from the rest of us at the beginning.”

      He stilled.

      “Parker? What happened to him?”

      And when he didn’t respond, she asked with horror in her eyes, “They killed him? That’s what the gunfire was about, wasn’t it?”

      He said nothing.

      Her tanned hands flew up to cover the lower part of her face until only her big, luminous eyes showed, glinting with moisture. Her shoulders drooped with defeat.

      “Tanya…” Her voice sounded as if she was fighting for air. “How about his wife and the—” She didn’t seem to be able to take in enough air to finish the sentence.

      “No idea.” He felt remorseful, but undeterred. “We are leaving. Now.”

      “No. It’s my life.”

      And his breath caught, because that had been the last thing she had told him before she’d left. It’s my life, Parker. I’m sorry. I have to do what’s best. And he had stood there, without a word, without trying to change her mind, and watched her walk away.

      Letting her go had been the single most selfless thing he had ever done in his life. He knew she was better off without him. He was darkness and she was light.

      But it had still hurt like hell.

      He blinked hard, waited for the tightness in his chest to ease. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

      “None of your business,” she snapped at him. “I’m not going. I’m serious.”

      So was he.

      “Kate.” The word came out in a low growl of temper. He hated how quickly she could make him lose his cool. He was frustrated that she wouldn’t give him her full cooperation.

      She hesitated another long second. Damn. There had been a time when she had told him everything, had laid her soul bare and shared it. Well, the trust was gone now. He should have expected that.

      “I am considering adopting a child from Russia. Tanya has two adopted children. I had some questions about the process and the orphanage she used,” she said with a defensive set of her chin and a hint of vulnerability around her.

      That wasn’t the answer he had expected. The words cut him off at the knees. There had been a time when he was looking forward to Kate having his children, although he had tried to tell her that the time wasn’t right just yet, that they would probably have to wait a couple of years. He didn’t want to miss anything. He didn’t want to be an absentee father on active duty. Not that he’d been able to tell her that. He’d had to cook up some stupid story about how he needed a lot of time at that point because he was fighting hard for his next promotion.

      A tidal wave of regrets slammed into him. He couldn’t think about all that now. He had to get her out of here.

      But she wasn’t done fighting yet. “Listen to me. Chances are they would have let the hostages go at the end. Now that you shot their men, they are going to kill the people we left behind. Because of me. I can’t live with that. I’m not that kind of person. I can’t.” There was urgency and desperation in her voice. “Please,” she added with her unique mix of vulnerability and determination.

      She wasn’t a delicate woman. She was vivacious. She had lively eyes, a full mouth and a stubborn jawline. She laughed from the heart and cried from the heart.

      He still had a crush on her. The realization caught him off guard. That rush of attraction, the magnetic pull. A crush—that was all it was. He imagined there wasn’t a man who could go within ten feet of Kate Hamilton without developing a little crush on her.

      He could disarm a nuclear warhead. He should be able to neutralize some leftover attraction.

      “Parker?”

      She wouldn’t give up. She wasn’t the type. When someone needed help, Kate Hamilton was your gal. She’d charged to the rescue of neighbors, friends and coworkers alike, making time to find homes for strays she picked up on the street. Which made her a fine consul, he supposed, since part of her job was to assist U.S. citizens who ran into trouble here in France. She could manage a problem like nobody’s business.

      “Please?”

      Those eyes were going to be the death of him. Oh, hell, when had he ever been able to resist her?

      He drew a deep breath, recognizing himself for the fool he was. “Okay. I’ll get you out. Once you’re safe, I’ll come back to see what I can do for the others.” And the Colonel was probably going to fry his ass. A freaking barbecue.

      “How can you even think about taking only me?” She was outraged and not bothering to hide it.

      “Because that is precisely the order I got.” He kept his voice deceptively low, although his blood was fairly boiling.

      “From whom?”

      He stayed silent.

      “Some orders need to be questioned.”

      She’d never met the Colonel. “Maybe you question too much,” he said.

      “We should go back for them right now.” Her voice had a lot of steel in it.

      Something told him Kate had toughened

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