“So we’re just going to stroll to our stolen government car?”
He grinned. “That’s the plan.”
“With a baseball bat and a gunshot wound?”
“Maybe not with the baseball bat. Wait here a sec.” He left the room and returned a few minutes later with a khaki scarf and no bat. “That kid’s going to get a surprise when she next cleans out her wardrobe.” He checked the street again. “How do you feel about reverting to your natural hair color?”
“What?”
He walked into the hallway beside the front door and pulled a couple of overcoats from pegs. “The woman would have seen a nondescript white guy in a cap and bomber jacket, and a brunette in a blue coat.”
Jamie was far from nondescript but she took his point, pulling off her wig and cap and finger-combing her black hair. She took a red raincoat from him and buttoned it over top of her blue one. He stripped to his tank and knotted the scarf around his upper arm, using his teeth to pull it tight. Once dressed, he shrugged into a charcoal overcoat, wincing as he eased it over his shoulder.
He adjusted the coat lapels. He looked a little bulky but passable. “Now, do we look like the type of louts who would jump over walls and frighten law-abiding citizens?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever looked like that.”
“Well, don’t look so terrified, then.”
“I am terrified. And you have cap hair.” She reached up and mussed it. His head was warm and damp, the short hair surprisingly soft.
Frowning, he pulled a twig from her hair. Their faces were so close she could feel the heat from his skin. Or was that just her skin? Either way, it was altogether too intimate. He grabbed her waist, spinning her so they were nestled side by side, looking into a hall mirror. “You see? A perfectly ordinary couple out for a stroll.”
Peerrrfectly.“I look like I haven’t slept for two days.”
“So we’re a perfectly ordinary couple on honeymoon.”
A laugh escaped her throat. If only.
No. Notif only.
He grabbed a multicolored golf umbrella from beside the front door. “A baseball bat in exchange for two coats and an umbrella. Doesn’t seem fair, but then, we are trying to save the free world.” He found her waist again. “Ready, darling?”
“No.”
“Try looking at me like you’re in love. That’s, like, the opposite of terrified.”
She swallowed, her face warming. “The idea of being in love again is pretty terrifying.”
The corners of his mouth flicked into a sexy uptick. “See, that’s better already.” He planted a quick kiss on her lips. She gasped. He blinked, like it’d taken him by surprise, too.
“Aye,” he said, sounding winded. “That worked. That’s what I’m going to do every time you get that guilt-ridden-slash-terrified look on your face.” He scooted to the window and peeked out, then returned. “After you,” he said, opening the door.
As they stepped out he unfurled the umbrella. He winced, and swapped it into his right hand.
“You’re in pain,” she said.
“Nothing serious. We need to prioritize getting away.”
They kept a steady pace, the umbrella pulled low against the drizzle, his arm strong around her waist. Her heart pounded—because of the goons or the police or Jamie? She felt a magnetic pull to him, right under her ribs. And having him flush against her hip made her feel...grounded. Safe. How ironic was that, given the circumstances?
She counted four police officers in high-vis yellow jackets, going door to door. As they passed a brick terrace, an officer jogged down the concrete steps from its front door.
“Excuse me?” the woman said. “Ma’am? Sir?”
Jamie tightened his grip around Samira. Alet me do the talkinggrip.
“Something going on?” Jamie said, in an English accent, nodding at the nearest police car. “I heard the sirens.”
