Personal Assistance (Entangled Ignite) by Louise Rose-Innes

that. In fact, so nice that part of him wanted to do it again, but now that he was fully in control of his senses, that was never going to happen.
    “I know, but it was dangerous. I can’t afford to let my guard down.”
    She stopped snuggling. “What do you mean?”
    “When I let my guard down, people die.”
    “I don’t understand,” she said, after a beat. “Is that what happened in Afghanistan? Is that how you got injured?”
    “Yes,” he whispered. She waited for an explanation that didn’t come. Eventually she asked, “Was it because of a woman?”
    He moved his arm off her body. She was no longer in any danger of panicking. “It doesn’t matter now,” he said. “The point is, I made a mistake, and people died. The mission failed. I can’t afford to make the same mistake again. Not here.” Not with you.
    “You mean because there is so much at stake?”
    “The outcome of this war depends on whether we can get you out of here within forty-eight hours. Thousands of lives are at risk.”
    “I know. Duty calls.” She sighed audibly. “So you do your thing, and I’ll do my best to stay alive long enough to deliver the information safely.”

Chapter Seven
    “You said you had a plan,” Hannah said, as they dusted themselves off. The sandstorm had passed as quickly as it had come, and the sky was once again its usual pale blue, as if nothing had happened. She didn’t bring up their kiss again. Tom had just been doing his duty to stop her from panicking, and it meant nothing more than that. He was focused on his mission, not her.
    Well, she was used to that. Growing up, her father had showed her quite clearly how important duty was, to the extent that he had shipped her off to boarding school so he could focus on growing the family business. Without a mother, Hannah had gravitated toward her grandparents, spending holidays and long weekends with them. Her father had never minded. He was always too busy for her. Duty certainly had its downfalls.
    “I do.” He unfolded the map on top of a stone block, which was once part of an ornately carved ceiling. It still had engravings in the one side, although they had cracked and faded with time. “I know a man who might be able to help us. He lives in Mandhab. That’s not far from here.” He pointed to a position on the map.
    “How is he going to help us?” she asked, as she poured sand out of her shoe. There was enough in there to build a small sandcastle.
    “He’s well-connected. He should be able to help us get across the country to the coast.”
    “The coast?” Hannah stared at him. “That is your plan?”
    “The only other way off this island is by boat. All the airports are shut down or commandeered by the army.”
    “Don’t your guys have helicopters that can extract people?”
    He raised an eyebrow. “If we could contact them, perhaps, but since that’s out of the question, boat is our next best option.”
    It wasn’t ideal, but it was a solution, of sorts.
    He continued, “We can’t go to the main harbor on the east coast. It’s the obvious choice and will be too heavily guarded. They’ll be looking for you there.” He traced a route south with his finger. “There’s a smaller fishing port on the south coast, called Hamesh. If we can make it there, we can hitch a ride on a dhow to the mainland.”
    “And your friend is going to help us get there?”
    He looked up. “Hopefully, yes. He’s lived in Syman his whole life. He’s sure to know people who can help us.”
    “Okay, but please don’t tell me we have to get to—where was it? Mandhab?—tonight. I don’t think I can walk another step.”
    His body still bristling with energy, Tom looked like he wanted to keep going. Instead he said, “No. We’ll camp here tonight and leave first thing tomorrow morning.”
    …
    He wasn’t joking, either. Too early the next morning, she felt a warm hand on her shoulder, shaking her gently. “Let’s head out.”
    She blinked and