Hunted by Jaycee Clark Page B

her?
    Jezek usually hadn’t given much thought beyond Prague or Cheb or the southern Czech town Brno when other girls went missing. Something told him this time would be different. Bloody hell.
    They’d be in London soon. Hopefully, once there, things would cool down and he could convince her to confide more of her story.
    Which he found odd.
    Most of the girls they helped were too willing to tell their stories. Granted, not all, and he could hardly blame them. He hadn’t missed the way she’d shied and withdrew when he confronted her on her true identity. Though if she were telling him the truth and Jezek didn’t know her other than Dusk, then he could understand her reluctance in being called Morgan.
    She might act different in that regard, but he could see the other longing in her eyes. The one they all had. The one that said, I just want to go home.
    She most definitely wanted to go home, but she was hardly stupid. Wary. Cautious. Scared. And didn’t want any personal information about her shared. Did she have something more to hide?
    A knock at the door drew him from his musings.
    He turned, noted she hadn’t so much as stirred. Morgan was curled on the couch. Asleep.
    The thick carpet cushioned his footfalls as he crossed to the door.
    A waiter in a white jacket set the fare up on the table, the silver-domed lids not containing the aromas coming from the entrees. After he’d seen the man out, he opened the lids, checked to make certain they’d brought what he’d ordered, and then turned back to the sofa.
    Quietly, he strode across the room and stood, watching her.
    He ought to let her sleep. From the dark circles under her eyes, the too thin appearance, she’d had very little rest and appeared half starved.
    Her hair was shorter, curled around her head and the bottom of her ears in a color that was neither light brown nor red, but some color in between.
    With one finger he reached out and caressed her cheek. Why, he didn’t know. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten her, but she looked so soft. And she was. He brushed his thumb over the shadows beneath her closed dark lashes.
    Something about her had stirred something within him the first time he’d seen her in the photos dancing in that stupid club in Cheb. Maybe it was the faraway look in her eyes that had him wondering what she’d really been thinking. Or maybe it was simply that impossible light blue of her eyes. No, it was what was behind them.
    Courage.
    There was steel in her, there bloody well would have to be to survive as long as she had. But like acid, the experience with Jezek had corroded something in her. Or maybe it was the fact two brothers frantically searched for their sister. Either way, this woman pulled at him, even as he told himself she was no more or less than the others he’d helped get out.
    He squatted on the floor beside the couch, studying her features. Her long legs were tucked up on the couch next to her, her face resting on her fist.
    Carefully, he reached out and touched her shoulder, whispering, “The food’s here. Come on, now.” She stirred. “Wake up.”
    She started and jerked back, pressing against the cushions.
    He didn’t move, gave her a minute to study him and remember. Her eyes darted around the room, then settled back on him. Her chest fell on her exhale and she half sat up, raking her hand through her hair.
    “Sorry.” She swung her legs to the floor and still he didn’t move.
    “Don’t be. I almost didn’t wake you. You need rest, but you look like you could eat something as well.”
    She nodded, swallowed, and blinked several times.
    “I hate contacts,” she muttered, hiding a yawn behind her hand.
    Finally, he stood. “Soup and bread is here.” He picked up the tea kettle and poured her a cup of the dark brew. Should have ordered chamomile. He glanced at her as he set the cup down. “You could take your coat off. We are staying a while.”
    She stood, rubbing her arms as she shuffled