Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Marlowe felt like she was going to throw up. She couldn’t go back to that prison. She just couldn’t. She held on to Kendric with a grip she knew was too tight, but she was unable to relax her arms. The man had told her to trust him, and she was trying her best, but it was hard when merely the sight of the officers brought back horrible memories of her interrogation.

One of the police officers held up his hand, gesturing for them to stop, and said something in Thai.

“Sorry, I’m from the US, and I don’t know a lick of Thai,” Kendric said almost cheerfully. “My fiancée and I are on holiday. Driving through Thailand, seeing the sights.”

Marlowe held her breath.

“Where are your bags?”

Crap. She hadn’t even thought about that. But Kendric didn’t miss a beat.

“Back at our hostel. I thought I’d take my muffin cake out to see the sunrise. One of the people we met said there’s a particular place about ten miles outside the city that has the most amazing view.”

The officer’s gaze flicked to her, and Marlowe did her best to look relaxed, even though she was anything but. As subtly as possible, she reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it down, trying to flash some cleavage at the man. Not that she had much. Her boobs were a size B on a good day, and the weight she’d lost hadn’t done her any favors, but she hoped maybe, just maybe, flashing some skin might be helpful.

“IDs?” the second officer asked.

Once again, Marlowe felt her gut squeezing with panic, but Kendric merely nodded and leaned to the side, reaching into his back pocket. His fingers brushed against her inner thigh, and he turned to smile at her. “Sorry, babe.”

She did her best to get into the act. She ran her hand down his arm as he fumbled for his wallet. “It’s okay. You know I like when you touch me.”

Kendric winked at her and pulled out his wallet. To her surprise, he pulled out two drivers’ licenses and handed them to the officer. Then he put his hand on her knee and ran it up and down her lower leg.

Marlowe noticed the second officer’s gaze was glued to Kendric’s hand. It seemed to take the other man forever to examine their licenses. And Marlowe was beginning to get nervous.

To her surprise, Kendric twisted on the seat in front of her and cupped her cheek. Then he wrapped those fingers around her nape and kissed her. And it wasn’t a small peck either. His lips covered hers, and his tongue immediately demanded entrance to her mouth.

On a quiet gasp, Marlowe opened for him.

The second his tongue touched hers, she was lost. Literally forgot she was a fugitive. That at any moment, the police officers could haul her off the scooter and lock her up again. That she didn’t know Kendric. That she hadn’t properly brushed her teeth in ages.

All she could do was hang on to Kendric as he rocked her world.

She’d been kissed before, but had never felt the earth move. Never felt electricity shoot from her head to her toes. Never gotten wet from a simple kiss. But kissing Kendric was everything the sappy romantic movies she liked to watch made it out to be. She felt like Sleeping Beauty, awakened for the first time by true love’s kiss.

When he pulled back, their eyes met, and Marlowe could only stare at him in wonder.

Kendric groaned low in his throat and leaned toward her again.

Eager to experience more of the amazing feelings he brought out in her, Marlowe grabbed his thigh and dug her fingers in as she lifted her chin.

“You should be careful,” the officer said, breaking the moment between her and Kendric.

Marlowe wanted to cry. She needed more of this man. Wanted to inhale him. Wanted to become one with him.

Her only consolation was that it took Kendric a long moment to compose himself. His eyes remained locked onto hers, as if telling her they’d continue this later. Then he twisted back to face the officers, as if he hadn’t been turned inside out by their kiss, and said, “Oh? Why?”

“There was a prison break. Many escaped.”

“Oh, that’s why y’all have this roadblock, huh? Makes sense.”

“Dangerous criminals,” the officer said with a nod.

“Well, I hope you catch them all,” Kendric said as he put the licenses into his wallet and leaned forward to put it back into his pocket.

“If you see anything suspicious, anyone suspicious, you must report to authorities,” the officer warned.

“Oh, yes, of course I will. I have to keep my cookie safe,” Kendric said, patting Marlowe’s knee. As if on cue, both men’s eyes went back to Marlowe’s legs.

Lights flickered behind them as another car approached.

“You may pass,” said the officer who’d scrutinized their licenses, motioning for them to go around the front of one of the cars to get back onto the road on the other side.

“Thank you. Be safe. I hope you catch all the prisoners,” Kendric said.

“We will.”

Marlowe shivered at the determination in the man’s tone. But she managed a smile. Kendric waved at the officers and drove around their cars, and soon they were back on the road.

She rested her forehead against Kendric’s shoulder and released a long breath.

“Easy, Punky. You did it. You did so good,” he said, patting her hands, which were in a death grip around his waist once more.

“You had IDs for us?” she mumbled into his shoulder.

“Yup. All part of the plan.”

“The plan,” she huffed. “What plan?”

“The plan to get you home,” he said easily.

They drove for a few minutes, and Marlowe thought back to their kiss. He hadn’t hesitated. Hadn’t seemed even the least bit shy about what he’d done, as if he went around kissing strangers all the time. And Marlowe supposed maybe he did, if he rescued women often. She didn’t know him. Didn’t know anything about him.

“I’m sorry about that back there,” he said, breaking into her thoughts. “That one guy was getting a little too interested in checking you out, and I figured we needed to give him something else to think about . . . namely, his dick.”

Marlowe felt herself blushing. “It’s okay,” she told him.

“For the record?” Kendric said.

She waited, but when he didn’t continue, she asked, “Yeah?”

“I can’t remember a kiss I enjoyed more.” He was looking straight ahead as he confidently drove the scooter through the light early-morning traffic. “It wasn’t appropriate, and I feel as if I took advantage of you . . . but I don’t regret it.”

“Me either,” Marlowe admitted. “You can kiss, Bob.”

“I’m thinking I like you calling me Kendric better. Ken works too.”

“Good. Because you aren’t a Bob. Not even close.”

“Carlise, June, and April would love you.”

Marlowe frowned. “Who?”

“My friends’ wives. And April is the admin assistant for the business my friends and I run together. She and JJ have a thing, but neither wants to admit it.”

A few minutes of silence went by before Kendric said her name. “Marlowe?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you forgive me for doing that back there?”

She snorted. “For doing what? Having an ID for me? Distracting the cops so they wouldn’t look at my prison-issue shoes? Giving me a kiss that curled my toes and made me forget for just a moment that my life has gone to shit? Yeah, Kendric. I forgive you.”

“Curled your toes?” he asked, turning his head slightly so she could see his grin.

Marlowe realized she was also smiling like a loon. “Yeah.”

“Me too,” he admitted.

She closed her eyes for a moment. The admission that he’d been just as affected by the spontaneous kiss seeped into her bones. Made her feel as if maybe she’d get back to the woman she’d been before getting thrown in jail.

Suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude, she hugged Kendric hard.

He squeezed her hand and said, “We’re going to be at our stopping point in just a few minutes. The Cambodian border isn’t too far, just the equivalent of about three hundred miles. But the roads aren’t great outside the city. We can’t go as fast as I’d like on this scooter, and I don’t want to look suspicious to any authorities we might run into along the way, so we’ll take our time. Act like tourists. My plan is to lay low during the day and set out again after dark. That okay?”

“This is your rescue. I’ll do whatever you say, when you say it, as soon as you say it.”

He twisted his neck and caught her gaze for a second before returning his attention to the road. “Yeah?”

Remarkably, she giggled. “Well, maybe I should clarify that.”

“You’re safe with me,” Kendric fired back, no humor in his tone at all.

“I know,” Marlowe told him. And she did. She felt safer with this man than she had in a very long time. Maybe ever. There was just something about him that screamed safety. She didn’t know much about him, but one thing was clear—he’d do whatever it took to get her back to her brother, even if that meant getting hurt himself.

And the more time she spent with him, the more abhorrent that idea was. She didn’t want him getting injured on her behalf. Or killed. She shivered at the thought.

“Cold?”

That. Right there. He was so in tune with her, it was almost scary. “No, just an unpleasant thought.”

“Soon this will all be a bad dream,” he reassured her.

“Will they come to the States to get me?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“No.”

His answer was short and to the point. “How can you be sure?”

“I just am. Trust me, Punky.”

Not wanting to think about being hauled out of her bed in the middle of the night by immigration or the FBI or someone hell bent on sending her back to Thailand, Marlowe nodded against him.

About ten minutes later, Kendric slowed and once again steered the scooter between the slates of a fence, into a wooden building that looked as if it was one strong storm from being blown over. He turned off the engine and hopped off the seat. Then he took her arm in his and said, “Slowly.”

Wondering why he was so concerned, Marlowe swung her leg over the seat and stood—and immediately swayed on her feet. Her legs didn’t seem to want to work. “Oh!” she exclaimed.

“Give it a moment for the blood to start flowing again,” he told her, still holding her steady.

“You just leaped off as if you weren’t on there the same amount of time I was,” she complained.

Kendric’s lips twitched. “I’m used to it. Come on, lean on me and we’ll head inside.”

“Wait. Kendric?”

“Yeah?”

“Will being around me put anyone else in danger?”

She couldn’t read the expression on his face. Perhaps a mixture of anger and tenderness. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

She didn’t know if he was lying or not. “I can’t deal with anyone getting in trouble because of me.”

Kendric wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. Marlowe braced her hands on his chest as she looked at him in surprise.

“Everyone we’ll meet along our journey knows the risks they’re taking. And trust me, they’re being well compensated for their assistance. Besides, they know how corrupt the officials here can be. Many have had loved ones incarcerated just like you were. With no chance of fighting the charges. They’re glad to help. Eager, in fact. You’ll see. I know this is going to sound impossible, but relax, Punky. I’ve got you.”

Marlowe closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his chest. “I’m scared,” she admitted. “I have been ever since the police officers came to the dig and accused me of being a drug dealer. I just . . . I want to go home.” The last few words were almost a sob, and Marlowe hated the weakness they exposed.

“You will. You are,” Kendric said. Marlowe could feel him running a careful hand over the wig on her head. Even though the touch was light because of the material between his hand and her scalp, she still felt it down to her toes.

Taking a big breath, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. “I’m okay. It’s just . . . it’s a lot. But I’m all right now.”

Kendric stared at her for a beat. “You’re pretty amazing.”

She huffed out a disbelieving breath. “I’m not.”

“You are,” he insisted. “You have no idea. I’ve done this many times before, and trust me when I tell you that you’re holding up way better than most people.”

Marlowe didn’t like to think of Kendric putting himself in danger like this as part of his job. Then she frowned. Hadn’t he said he owned a business with some friends? Was that his job, or did they all do this? Rescue people?

“You’re tired. We need to eat, get clean, and then sleep.”

A low moan escaped her throat at the thought of any one of those things.

Kendric smiled. “Come on. We’ll go meet our host and get you sorted.”

Nodding, Marlowe allowed herself to be turned, loving that Kendric kept an arm around her shoulders and walked by her side toward the run-down-looking dwelling nearby.

Bob couldn’t take his eyes off Marlowe for more than a few seconds. The memory of the kiss they’d shared looped through his brain like a broken record. He hadn’t meant to kiss her like that, but when he’d seen the second officer looking suspicious about their story, he’d simply acted.

And that kiss had rocked him to the core. It was a good thing they were sitting, otherwise his knees would’ve gone out from under him. Because in that second, he knew.

This woman was his.

His.

He’d been looking for his perfect match for years. And as luck would have it, he’d found her on the other side of the world.

She was his responsibility. She was relying on him to get her out of the country safely. One screwup on his part and she’d go right back to prison and likely spend the rest of her life there.

That wasn’t an option. No way in hell.

Most people would tell him he was being ridiculous. That there was no way he could know she was his after a single kiss. They’d insist he was just horny because he hadn’t had sex in too long to remember, and that’s why he was so drawn to her. But those people would be wrong.

Bob felt their connection down to his bones. He hadn’t recognized the pull toward her when he’d visited her in the women’s prison, but as soon as he’d touched her, it sprang to life.

Then that kiss . . .

His friends would understand. Chappy and Cal had fallen just as hard and fast, and now they were both married and living happily ever after. If anyone deserved to be happy, it was his friends.

Even JJ, despite currently resisting their admin assistant himself, would tell Bob not to let anyone talk him out of going after what he wanted. What he wanted was Marlowe Kennedy.

And yet, despite his convictions, he had no illusions about the more likely scenario once they were back in the States. She’d go live with her brother for a while, until she was back on her feet. He’d go back to Maine, and their time together would come to an end.

If that happened, she’d be his biggest regret . . . and his proudest accomplishment. She might never be his, not the way he wanted her to be, but he’d have to worry about that later. For now, his only goal was to get her out of Thailand and back to the States safely. After that . . . who knew.

The last thing he wanted was anyone being with him out of a sense of obligation or gratitude. He wanted, needed, more.

Needed her to feel their connection as intensely as he did. Needed her to want to get to know him as someone other than her rescuer. At the moment, he wasn’t sure if that was possible.

Putting thoughts of the future aside, Bob concentrated on the here and now. They’d been welcomed into the small, poor hut of another member of Willis’s network and shown into a back room. The man who’d let them in didn’t speak English, but through hand gestures made them understand that he’d be back with food and drink.

The room was small and sparsely furnished. It was likely where the man slept with his wife. A pallet lay on the floor, and a small, rickety dresser sat against one wall. The floor was old wooden planks that were probably full of splinters. There was no window in the room, and it was already heating up as the sun made its appearance in the sky. It would only continue to get warmer as the day went on . . . but for Bob, it was perfect.

They were safe. He had to believe that. Willis was very good at what he did, and his contacts thus far had operated flawlessly.

“There’s no way out,” Marlowe said uneasily as she looked around. “No windows. What if the cops come?”

“They won’t. And trust me, if we need to get out of here, I’m thinking one strong kick to the wall will give us an egress point. You’re safe, Marlowe. I promise, you aren’t going back.”

She sighed. “I’m trying to believe it, but . . . it was awful, Kendric. You just don’t know.”

“You might be surprised. But I’m thinking things will look better after you eat something and get some rest.”

“What about you?” she asked.

“What about me?”

“Will you get some sleep too?”

“Of course,” Bob answered immediately, but the truth was, it was unlikely. He didn’t sleep well under the best circumstances. And this was far from ideal.

“Good. Can’t have you falling asleep at the wheel . . . or handlebars,” she said with a small smile.

This was another thing Bob admired about this woman. She was able to make jokes, even when she was unsure and scared.

“Come here,” he said, holding out a hand to her. He hadn’t given her a choice with the kiss back at the checkpoint, and he was still kicking himself about that. He wouldn’t force her to do anything again if he could help it.

She immediately stepped toward him and instead of taking his hand, kept coming until she was hugging him. She fit against him perfectly. She was a small thing, and she felt fragile in his arms. But Bob suspected under normal circumstances, this woman was tough as nails, and he couldn’t be prouder of how she’d managed so far.

Way before he was ready to let go, their host opened the door. He had a tray in his hands that had two bowls and a plate piled high with various bite-size pieces of food. Bob had no idea what any of it was, but his stomach growled impatiently.

Marlowe grinned and stepped back as the man lowered the tray to the floor. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even meet their gazes, as he backed out of the room and shut the door behind him.

“Was it something I said?” Marlowe quipped.

Bob chuckled. “Come on, let’s see what we’ve got so you can eat and get some shut-eye.”

Marlowe didn’t eat nearly as much as Bob would’ve liked. She picked at the food on the plate, but drank most of the broth that was in the bowl.

“You don’t like the food,” Bob said. It wasn’t a question.

Marlowe shrugged. “Not really. I’ve tried. I mean, I know I need the calories, but I’ve never been much of a seafood fan, and everything here is just so different from what I’m used to.”

“What are you used to?” Bob asked.

Marlowe gave him a small, sheepish smile. “Chicken nuggets, hot dogs, Doritos, potato chips, candy, ramen, SpaghettiOs.”

He stared at her in disbelief. “Good lord, woman. All that’s crap.”

“I know,” she said with a shrug. “I eat like a ten-year-old. What can I say? I’m single and can’t cook. So I make do.”

“I love to cook. Although it sucks cooking for one,” he admitted.

“We’d make a good pair. You love to cook and I hate it,” Marlowe said. Then she blushed and bit her lip. “I mean, you know, if we were together. Which we aren’t! I mean . . . shoot.”

“I know what you meant,” Bob said gently, letting her off the hook. But he was thinking the same thing. If she was his, it would be his pleasure to cook for her every night. To make sure she got the nutrition her body needed.

“I usually bring MREs with me on a dig. To help supplement the local food. Along with a bag or two of candy, although that’s usually gone way too fast,” she admitted with a shrug.

“What’s your favorite?”

“What, candy?”

“Yeah.”

“Anything with sugar in it,” she said with a small laugh. “I mean, you know, not chocolate. Smarties, Spree, SweeTarts, Runts, that kind of thing.”

Bob couldn’t help but smile. “Sweet tooth,” he muttered.

“Yup,” she said without a shred of embarrassment.

Bob made a mental note to find her a bag of candy as soon as he could manage it. He opened his mouth to tell her as much, but she yawned then, quickly covering her mouth.

“Sleep,” he ordered, pointing to the pallet on the floor.

“I can’t sleep there,” she said, shaking her head. “I mean, that’s their bed. First of all, that’s rude. Secondly, and this is going to sound ridiculous, considering where I just spent the last month, but . . . I can’t help thinking about what they might’ve done on those covers.”

Bob snorted. “Right. How about this?” He walked over to the dresser and opened one of the drawers. He pulled out a man’s shirt, then went over to the wall and spread it out on the floor. He sat next to it and patted his leg. It wasn’t ideal, but now that Marlowe had brought it up, the thought of lying down on the pallet where the man may or may not have made love to his wife hours ago wasn’t exactly high on his list of things to do either.

“It’s probably not all that comfortable, but . . .”

“It’s perfect,” Marlowe said with a small smile as she approached. She lay down on her side, resting her head on his thigh. “Are you sure this is okay?”

“It’s more than okay,” Bob assured her. And once more, she’d impressed him. She could’ve pitched a fit about having to sleep on the floor, but she didn’t. She was grateful for what she had. He supposed being in prison had a lot to do with her easy acceptance of her situation, but he also had a feeling it was just who she was naturally. “Sleep, Punky,” he told her.

“Has anyone told you that you’re bossy?” she asked sleepily.

“Yes.”

“Well, they weren’t lying,” she said.

Bob chuckled again, and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and stroking his hand down her hair. It was then that he realized she was still wearing the wig. “Lift up,” he told her.

“What?” she asked, lifting her head from his thigh in confusion.

He quickly pulled the wig off her head, and she sighed in contentment.

“Oh, that feels so good.”

Bob ran his hand over her hair, feeling the sweaty strands at the back of her neck.

“Kendric?” she asked.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for coming for me. For keeping me safe.”

“You’re welcome,” he told her, but he wasn’t sure she heard him, as she was already snoring. She was out so fast, it was as if she hadn’t slept for days or weeks. He had a feeling he wasn’t too far off. When he’d been a POW, he hadn’t slept much at all. Always aware of every little sound, waiting and wondering when it would be his turn to be tortured again.

Turning his attention to the woman next to him, Bob refused to think about that time in his life. He and his friends had been rescued, and now he was paying back the debt he owed to the men and women who’d restored his freedom by returning the favor. Helping others in need.

But being here for Marlowe didn’t feel like a favor. It felt like fate.

Bob shook his head and rested it against the wall behind him. He really needed to stop thinking like that. Marlowe would go her own way once they were back home.

She couldn’t be his. This wasn’t fate. She wasn’t his soulmate.

But no matter how many times he told himself those things, the feeling that he was destined to be right where he was, right this second, wouldn’t rest.

Not able to look away from Marlowe for long, Bob lowered his head and stroked her hair. The strands were filthy, she was covered in dirt . . . but he’d never seen a more beautiful woman in his life.

He was in big trouble. This woman had him wrapped around her little finger after a total of a few hours . . . and she had no clue.

When he got home, he’d call his friend Tex and have him keep tabs on her. Scrub her fugitive status, if possible. Make sure she was safe when she went on future archaeological digs. Maybe he’d even see if the former SEAL could covertly put a tracker on her.

Shaking his head, Bob snorted. He wouldn’t do that to Marlowe. What was he thinking? Track her without her knowledge? No, only psychos did that kind of crap. Besides, if Tex let anything slip, and Chappy, Cal, or JJ found out about his little extracurricular rescue trips, he’d have his hands full trying to explain and earning back their trust.

He’d have to let Marlowe go. Had a feeling it would be the hardest thing he’d done in his life so far . . . even more difficult than surviving his time as a POW. But he’d do it, because Marlowe deserved her freedom too.