Hell, he might even let Bardaric take down one city if that was what Vestavia had to do to track the Brit’s people and find the trail to the source of the UX.

Chapter Twenty-five

Hunter had said “if.”

Abbie hated vague answers. She shed her shirt and jeans in the bedroom, which might as well be a prison cell since she was sure Hunter had set all kinds of alarms on the cabin to ensure she didn’t take off again.

She walked into the three-sided glass shower to face hot water blasting from nine spigots.

Nine showerheads, actually. Water came out of spigots where she grew up.

The luxurious bathroom attached to her suite came right out of a designer magazine. The gleaming gold-and-pewter faucet shaped in a swooping design that could be a miniature version of an Olympic luge deserved to be signed and numbered.

She should feel guilty taking snarky shots at the upscale appointments since she’d happily pilfered a brass basket filled with luxury bath products someone had left on the marble counter. Probably Borys.

Bless Borys for delivering a bowl of jambalaya and rice with fresh bread and more hot chocolate to her bedroom a minute after she’d dragged herself up the stairs. The smell of Cajun cooking was gone. She’d all but licked the bowl clean.

Then fell back on the bed and slept three hours.

That had been the only thing stopping her from indulging in the shower sooner.

Inside the shower stall, she squirted a washcloth full of a peach-smelling soap from a glass wall dispenser. The scalding water pounded stress and anxiety from her muscles while she gingerly scrubbed grit from her scratches.

Every inch of her ached from the fall.

But her mother could be in more pain and had worse problems, so enough whining.

Think more. Complain less. Even if no one could hear her thoughts.

Her next move hung on Hunter’s if.

If he got the answer he wanted from headquarters-wherever that was-then he could possibly help her.

Not many options when she was imprisoned on a mountain with no cell phone, no Internet access, no money, no car…

She did think Hunter believed her when she’d said he needed her in person to gain entry to the Kore center database.

One point in her favor.

If she was dealing with law enforcement. Another stinking if.

Why hadn’t Hunter shown her a badge or ID of some sort? She could ask, but he would have produced one by now if he intended to do so. Maybe he was deep undercover or doing something where he couldn’t give his official ID. He could be with any agency from the cops to the FBI to the CIA to national security divisions she’d never heard of.

Had to be layers upon layers of new law enforcement operations in all areas of government these days that no one knew about.

But Hunter was obviously wealthy, or relying on someone who was, for him to have access to private jets and secluded mountain homes.

He’d been at the Wentworth party. People recognized him. Did they know he was some kind of James Bond guy?

Well, crap. She stopped washing and let the water batter her head. Maybe that would shake loose a few cramped brain cells.

This was the second time she’d spent a night at Hunter’s place and still didn’t know the man’s last name.

She growled at yet more gray areas. For now, she’d have to go with believing Hunter was in law enforcement until she had reason to doubt him.

I hate the mountains. And Hunter.

She wouldn’t be hurt right now if he hadn’t brought her to a place with no roads and stuck in the middle of a booby-trapped field and failed to give her phone access and…

But he’d also flown her away from danger. He had held her when she’d been terrified last night and he had soothed her this morning. He’d only yelled at her out on the ridge because he thought she’d been hurt.

And he hadn’t liked that one bit.

Didn’t like to worry about someone.

Or the fact that he’d been turned on. That searing kiss and erection were undeniable evidence. Good thing she didn’t have body parts that could poke out when she was aroused. If she did he’d have figured out just how bad she had the screaming hots for him every time his internal pendulum swung toward being sweet and caught her by surprise.

One minute he snarled at her until she wanted to go for his throat, then he’d do something completely unexpected, like hold her or kiss her.

Sort of ruined that I’m-cold-as-an-iceberg attitude he wanted to project.

She smiled.

Did others realize that underneath all that arrogance and do-it-my-way attitude Hunter had a heart? If she’d only known him as a guest at the Wentworth party and never met him six years ago or spent the last twenty-four hours around him, she’d have written Hunter off as another rich uncaring jerk.

But he’d listened to her when she begged him to not hand her over to WITSEC when dumping her in someone else’s lap would have been easier for him. He hadn’t demanded she tell him the last key to getting inside the Kore center records. Yet.

That actually surprised her and earned him another high mark when she knew he could have browbeaten her.

But Hunter had secrets. Lots of them. Like what he was doing at the Wentworth party.

He knew the Latin security guy at the Wentworth estate. A teammate? And if she was going to believe him, she had to accept that keeping her here at the cabin was putting Hunter at risk.

Would they really send assassins out to get him if he didn’t convince them he could get into Kore? Or if they found out she was with Hunter? Again, who were they?

Her heart thumped erratically. He was constantly putting himself in danger to keep her safe. If he needed her help to get whatever he wanted from the Kore Women’s Center, why wasn’t he jumping at her offer to go there and help him?

Because he believed the killer could find her. She believed showing up with little advance notice combined with Kore’s security would prevent someone from just walking in… which begged the question of how Hunter intended to get in.

Neither of them could wait for a better opportunity. Wasn’t like she could escape again. That hadn’t done her any good… except for that kiss.

He’d kissed her like a man possessed.

Fire rushed across her skin at the memory of how he’d touched her. She’d never been kissed like that, as if he wanted her right then and right there.

He could have had her, too.

She couldn’t remember a time in the past six years that she’d wanted a man the way she’d wanted Hunter to finish what he’d started on the mountain.

Six years? She hadn’t ever wanted a man that much.

Hadn’t trusted a man enough to consider more than heavy petting since walking in on the pig and Casey.

Hunter might be just as untrustworthy.

She groused at the way she was thinking of him. He had her prisoner. She made a suck-bad prisoner of war wanting to sleep with the enemy.

He might have just been playing her since she proved to be putty in his sexy hands that could slide between…

She ran the washcloth between her legs and shivered.

Enough of that. She squeezed out the rag and hung it over the faucet. Half her body suffered from the beating she’d taken and the other was one big knot of frustration.

Turning off the water jets, she stepped out of the glass shower and snagged a bath sheet to wrap around her body. The thing fell to her knees. Did Hunter have humongous guests?

Did he even have guests?

She found a smaller towel for her hair, then dug through the basket on the counter for lotion. Staring at eyes she’d never lied to, her conscience worked overtime ticking off points in his favor.

Look at this place. Hunter could have taken her somewhere she’d be in lockdown.