She leaned into him, needing his warmth, and his strength. And him. He’d rescued her again. He’d saved her the previous year when a maniac was holding a gun on her, he’d protected her the day before when someone was shooting, and he’d rescued her again just now from the gulag. Surely third time was the charm. Surely.

He disengaged from her and grabbed the desk chair, dragging it forward. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but that”—he gestured to the door—“was nothing compared with what will happen if you don’t leave. Everything he said was right. I’m not sure how far the embassy will go to protect you if the Russians press the point. If the US takes you in, well, the visuals of the US harboring a suspected assassin at a G20 conference…” He shook his head. “I just don’t know how that will play out.”

She flexed her fingers to combat the feeling that her hand muscles had frozen in place. Isn’t that where rigor mortis started? Her head was shaking. How had this trip gone from something she’d been looking forward to for months to this level of calamity in just a few hours? “I’m not an assassin. Don’t even say that. This whole thing is ridiculous.”

He edged closer and took her hands in his, gradually returning the feeling to them. “It might be crazy, but this is where you are now. You have to leave. Today, if we can get you on a flight. I can’t stay with you. I have a job here too.”

Molly suddenly realized what he was saying. “You’re leaving me? Again?”

“Strictly speaking, you’ll be leaving me. We have about a couple of hours, maybe three, before he comes back with the Greek police and a warrant. You need to be gone by then.” He sat back as if the matter had been settled.

“That’s absolutely out of the question.” Her voice rose, and she could feel the hysteria growing in her body. “It’s not happening.”

David looked stunned, but try as she might, she couldn’t dial it back. She jumped up and rushed to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She braced herself on the vanity and took some breaths. Okay. This wasn’t his fault. She was trying to blame someone other than herself.

She looked in the mirror and tried to gather her wits. How stupid could she have possibly been to agree to Brandon’s plan? She wasn’t a spy. She was terrible at that stuff. She was shit at lying, shit at hiding things…she wasn’t exactly stellar at keeping secrets either. What had possessed her to get involved? Now a man was dead, and David thought she was a total idiot.

She’d ruined everything. This tour of speeches and conference was her way of atoning for the mess she’d found herself in last year. She’d spent her whole adult life working to preserve archaeological artifacts, only to find out that the company she’d done digs for was stealing the treasures from under everyone’s noses. This speech here at the G20 was the culmination of her penance. This was the one that would get worldwide coverage. The grand finale. The one that she knew would make a difference. She wasn’t sure if she could walk away from it. To go home and just go back to work as if none of it had mattered.

And she hated herself, really hated herself, that she was also pissed that David was leaving her again. He hadn’t even flirted with her. Not so much as a look that might have had a double meaning. She was so stupid to have wasted a year on the mere hope of him. Someone she’d known had died, and here she was thinking about a man, for God’s sake.

She sniffed back tears. She wished David wasn’t outside the bathroom door. She’d give anything for a legitimate sobfest. But she had to man up and deal with what was going on. She stood up straight, and tried to look as dignified as she could in a hotel towel.

She opened the door and forced her chin up. “Okay, I’m sorry…”

He held his finger up. He was on the phone. “Yes sir. Yes. Of course, sir.” He raised his eyebrows at her, and she shook her head.

It didn’t matter. She just needed to get dressed and leave. Go home. Forget all this. She couldn’t rely on anyone. Not Brandon, and not David. She had to take control of the situation. Regardless of how woefully inept she’d already proved herself to be. At that sliver of a negative thought, a wave of insecurity washed over her.

He was still on the phone with his back to her, nodding occasionally at whatever the person on the other end had said. She took a breath and just watched him in a way she’d never been able to before. His shirt was tight across his back, his waist was slim, and his jeans rode low. They were the type of jeans you wore when you weren’t concerned with designer names, and they suited him perfectly. A little frayed around the edges, a little beaten up, but still functioning…and sexy. She gave a little smile when she realized she could have been describing David. Something twinged in her. God, she still wanted him so much. Wanted to love him. Wanted to see what he looked like when he was having sex. Climaxing.

Jesus…What she wanted to do is get a grip. She wrapped her towel firmly around her body and caught sight of herself in the floor length mirror outside the bathroom. She wanted to cry. Despite everything, how could this moment be any more convenient? She was almost naked, David was in the hotel room with her? And still he wasn’t interested? Well that did it. She just had to admit how completely stupid she’d been this past year and move on.

“Roger that, sir. Nope, I’ll pass Mal the message for you.” He nodded another couple of times and then hung up.

“Are you almost ready to go?” he asked, barely offering her a look.

“Nope,” she said, trying to tamp down her annoyance. “I’m staying. I don’t care what happens to me, but I am giving this speech. I’m sorry that you got involved, and of course, thank you for helping me last night, but you should go now. Get on with your life, and let me get on with mine, at last.” She twisted her finger in the air, telling him to turn around so that she could get dressed. Why she bothered doing that though, she had no idea. It was obvious he had no residual feelings for her.

Must not touch. Must not touch, he repeated to himself as he obediently looked out at the Greek government complex opposite. He heard her towel hit the floor, and his dick sprang uncomfortably to life in his jeans. He shifted from leg to leg, trying not to give in to it.

He wanted her more than he’d wanted anything in his life. But to keep her out of the hands of the Russian SVR he had to be thinking about their next move, not how lush her body looked, dewy from the shower. How sexy she looked with her chin shoved up, telling him to get on with his life. Her tan skin peeking out from the crisp white towel. The dreams he’d had about her all year. The vivid, tactile dreams that left him awake in the morning with a hard-on that propped up the sheets and the blankets on his bed. Every bad thought he’d had in the last year had been about her.

Even though they had never kissed. Even though he’d been mostly drunk the whole time he’d known her. Understandably so, but still. It was as though merely hugging her that last time they saw one another at the airport in Iraq—just that one embrace—had embedded her DNA so deeply in him all he could think about was her.

It took the will of a saint not to turn around and look. Touch. Taste. But something was off with Molly. Something she wasn’t telling him. And he intended to get to the bottom of it, come hell or high water, before he succumbed to her. He could feel her pull, like attracting magnets. Dammit. He had to get his head back in the game.

He’d already made himself a target by coming into the hotel room. He could have let the Russian intelligence officer continue his interrogation, and kept his identity out of it, but, yeah. That hadn’t really been an option.

When he saw the hotel manager standing by Molly’s open hotel room, he suspected the worst. His whole world had almost collapsed in on him. She was dead. Whoever had killed the minister had come back for her. In the two seconds it had taken him to reach her doorway, he’d already imagined his life without the possibility of her in it. Trying to live knowing that she’d died on his watch. Wondering if he’d survive the crushing defeat his soul had felt. It wasn’t anything he wanted to experience again. It wasn’t anything he was going to let happen. Whatever happened now, he was staying with her. And his boss was going to kill him. Maybe even fire him. And given David’s instinct to protect Molly rather than the man he was actually being paid to look after, he couldn’t really blame him.