Page 91 of Unseen Danger

Maybe the person they’d been waiting for had arrived?

She crouched and inched toward the closest window.

Another noise. A shout?

A pop cracked the air. No mistaking that sound.

Another gunshot exploded.

She peered out the bottom of the window.

Couldn’t see anything.

Shots meant conflict. An enemy to the kidnappers.

The PK-9 team? Or a double cross by whoever hired the thugs?

She needed to be ready in case her second guess was the right one.

She backed into the corner behind where the door would swing in when opened.

What if the bigger guy came in first? Her throat started to close. She needed Alvarez here. He could take the man down for her.

She needed someone. Anyone but her. Alone. Against a man like Walter.

His face broke through her defenses, loomed in front of her with that twisted grin. He—

“Nevaeh!” The deep voice shattered the memory. “Nevaeh!”

Was that—

The door crashed in, halting the surge of hope that shot through her body.

The man who must’ve kicked it in stood in the doorway, filling it with his huge size, a mountain of muscle and power.

Branson.

Nevaeh came out of nowhere, flying toward him. She landed against Branson’s chest, hard enough he had to brace himself to keep from stepping backward. But he’d never felt anything so good in his life.

He wrapped his arms around her, forcing himself to be gentle when what he really wanted to do was squeeze her so tight, she could never be taken from him again.

Her body trembled.

“Nevaeh, are you all right? Did they hurt you?”

Her hair tickled his chin as she moved her head against his chest, shaking it in denial.

“They didn’t hurt you?” His heart pounded against his ribs as he waited.

“No.” Her voice was weaker than normal, but the answer calmed his pulse. For a second. Until he became aware of how she felt pressed against him, fitting him like a glove.

His heart rate sped for a different reason as heat traveled through him all the way down to his toes.

What if he’d lost the chance to hold her like this? What if he’d lost her?

Another question followed on the heels of the first instinctive ones. When had holding her become important, something he wanted?

The answer rushed into his mind just as fast, as unexpectedly—when there was a chance he might never see her again.