"I don't think that's gonna happen. I'd rather help you."

He studied her briefly, frowning at what he saw. "Fine. If you want to help, find us something to eat. I'm starving."

"Is there any food here?" she asked.

David nodded. "No perishables, but there should be plenty of canned goods in the cabinets and bottled drinks in the fridge. If we're lucky, there might even be some coffee stashed in the freezer."

"I'm on it-David left the room—which Noelle now realized was the kitchen—to do God knew what. At least he hadn't left her to just sit here with nothing to think about but whether or not he'd come back.

Noelle covered the light with her fingers so that only a faint glow seeped through and carefully checked the cabinets for supplies. She found a drinking glass and set it upside down on the counter and placed her flashlight on top of it so it acted as a sort of lantern, giving her just enough light to work by. She found some canned stew, which she heated in the microwave and pulled a couple of sodas out of the fridge. Neither appliance had the usual light inside when the door was opened, making Noelle wonder just who owned this place. It was obviously set up for secrecy.

She put everything on the table but didn't dare call out for David. Instead, she took her flashlight and headed in search of him.

The house was small enough that it didn't take long to find him. He was in the basement in a windowless room filled with enough weapons and ammunition to outfit a small army. A single dim Hghtbulb swung over his head.

"What is this place?" she asked, watching him pack several boxes of ammunition into a canvas duffel bag.

"It's one of our safe houses."

"Our? As in...?"

"As in not CIA. Military."

"Oh. A bit paranoid, eh?"

He shot her a quick grin. "That's one way to put it. I prefer the term 'prepared,' but call it whatever you like as long as it means I don't run out of bullets."

Noelle eyed the shelves lining one wall. There were boxes of food, gallons of water, gasoline, medical supplies, communication equipment, batteries ... "This place looks like it was made as a bomb shelter."

"It was."

"Why don't we just hole up down here until I crack the code then?"

"I would if I thought it was safe."

"But you don't?"

"No. Someone on the inside knows about you. That's why we were attacked today. I don't want to take the chance that that same someone will know about this place and come after you. Anyone who knows the code and has his handprint on file can get in here."

Noelle felt the blood drain from her face. "You mean one of your guys is working for the Swarm?"

A snarl twisted his mouth, but his voice was steady. "Looks like."

"So how long can we stay here? Should I start working on the code?"

He grabbed a box full of medical supplies off the shelf and shoved it into the bulging bag. "I'm going to stock the Bronco with anything we might need, then get some food and a quick nap if I'm lucky. After you've eaten and had some sleep, we'll talk about the code. Until then, I need to focus on keeping you alive and that means taking advantage of these supplies."

He started filling another canvas bag, this time with food and water and a second medical kit.

"Do we really need all that stuff?"

"We might. Chances are we'll have to disappear for a while. You don't mind camping do you?"

Noelle thought about spiders and all the creepy-crawly things that lived in the dirt. "If that's what we have to do to stay alive, then I'll do it, but it's not my idea of fun. Besides, if you want that code broken, I' m going to need my laptop."

He nodded once. "Right. We'll need power." He pulled a couple of large batteries off the shelf and something that looked like an adapter she could use to plug her laptop into a cigarette lighter. Those went into yet another bag.

Noelle prayed that he'd find her a nice, safe hotel to live in for a few days rather than a spot of cold ground that was inhabited by bugs.

"I heated up some stew."

"Sounds great," he replied. "I'll pack this stuff into the back of the Bronco and be there in a couple of minutes."

Noelle grabbed one of the duffels he'd packed and hauled it over her shoulder. The thing weighed nearly as much as she did, but she managed to haul it up the stairs. David followed closely behind her with a duffel over each shoulder.

Noelle set hers down by the back door and gawked as he picked it up and added it to his burden.

Even in the limited light, she could see the way his muscles tightened and rippled under the strain. He wasn't very bulky, but it was clear that every ounce of muscle he had was entirely functional. He was probably carrying over two hundred pounds and didn't seem to be hampered.

She was glad he was on her side. She was also glad that out of all the men at the safe house who could have escorted her here, it was David who'd taken the job. As far as she was concerned, he'd proven himself capable of protecting her twice now, and there wasn't another man alive that she would have trusted more than David to keep her safe from the Swarm.

"You still have the keys?" he asked.

Noelle dug them out of her jeans and handed them over. His fingers brushed hers for a brief second, but the contact sent a jolt of purely feminine need through her system. Damn, that adrenaline and hormone mix was potent.

She jerked away, cupping her hand as if it had been burned. Now was not the time to be thinking about anything but staying alive. It certainly wasn't the time to be wondering if David was as aware of their being alone in a very isolated, very dark house together as she was. Or if he was having the same distracting, utterly inappropriate thoughts that she was.

David watched her with those eyes that missed nothing. "You okay?"

Noelle swallowed her embarrassment. She'd been around enough men in her life that a simple touch should not have affected her, but her nerves were shot and her brain was on overload. Her more primitive instincts had been summoned by the threat to her life and they were screaming at her to get as close to David as possible. He would keep her safe.

"Yeah. Just tired."

He gave her a look that said he knew she was lying but let it drop anyway. "Back away from the door. I don't want you to be a clear target when I open it."

Noelle hesitated for only a second before she complied. "Do you think someone's out there?"

"Not yet, but I don't want to take any chances."

Before she could argue that it wasn't safe for him to go out there, either, he was gone and returned a few seconds later.

Noelle breathed out a sigh of relief as he locked the door and went to the kitchen sink to wash his hands.

She busied herself by finding a stash of coffee in the freezer and started a fresh pot. They were both likely to need the caffeine sooner or later.

They sat down to eat with Noelle's makeshift lantern between them. It was as intimate as any candlelit dinner, but not nearly as relaxing.

Silence filled the room, with the occasional gurgling hiss from the coffeepot. Noelle watched David eat his stew mechanically, stopping only to take long drinks of soda.

Noelle ate as much as the tension in her stomach would allow, wishing for something they could talk about to break the silence.

He glanced at her, then at her bowl. "Not hungry?"

"It's not that great," she hedged.

'Tastes fine to me, but then I've never been much of a cook. I haven't had a decent home-cooked meal since,.."

He trailed off, but Noelle knew that he meant since his wife died. She wanted to ask him about her, but she could see from the strain in his expression that her death still hurt him badly. She couldn't stand that look of pain and guilt in his eyes and she'd have given anything to see it wiped away.

"What was she like?" asked Noelle in a nearly reverent tone. Any woman who could win a man like David had to be something special.

David's jaw tensed as if he wasn't going to respond, but after a few minutes, he closed his eyes and said, "Mary was wonderful." He was silent for a while longer, but Noelle let him take his time, deciding whether or not to share his memories with her. "She was a secretary at one of the local elementary schools. The kids loved her. She was always bringing home crayon drawings the kids had made for her. Our refrigerator was covered with colorful, clumsy, beautiful pictures." A wistful smile curved one side of his mouth. "She never threw a single one away. There were boxes and boxes full of the things. After she died... I couldn't bring myself to throw them away, either."

Noelle's heart ached for him—for what he'd lost, what he'd never had the chance to have. Tears burned her eyes, but she held them off, instinctively knowing that if she cried, David would stop telling her about Mary.

"She loved to swim and spent most summers by the pool when school was out. Eventually, she started giving swimming lessons to beginners. She called them ducklings." His smile warmed and his eyes held a faraway look. "She loved teaching kids more than anything. She was going back to school to get her degree so she could get a job teaching. In another year, she would have graduated."

His smile faded and sadness overtook his expression. His focus came back to the present and he stared down at his stew. "She would have made one hell of a teacher. She never would have given up on a single student, no matter how frustrating it got."

"She sounds like she was easy to love," said Noelle.

"She was. It still hurts that I can't be with her. I'd have done anything to trade places with her."

Looking into his face, witnessing his grief and the love he still held for his late wife, Noelle felt herself falling for him—slipping over the edge, just a little, in love with him. She tried to push the feeling away, knowing it would only cause her pain, but she couldn't. That sliver of love for David was part of her now.

Noelle had to clear her throat before she could speak around the lump of emotion that formed. "I'm sure Mary wouldn't have wanted you to die in her place."

"No, but at least my death wouldn't have ended her life like her death did mine. She was too full of life to let my death get her down for long. She was gorgeous. Men flocked to her. It wouldn't have taken her long to find someone else to love. Someone else who would have loved her in return."

"And what about you? Don't you want that? A wife and family to love again?"

He looked right into her eyes, a burning blue light glowing inside him. "I want that more than anything, but I don't believe in second chances. I fucked up. Mary died. I won't let it happen again with another woman."

"You can't take responsibility for something terrorists did."

"She was my wife. It was my job to keep her safe. If I hadn't been so busy out playing hero, I never would have gotten involved with the Swarm to begin with. Special Forces is for single men, not men with families. That was my mistake."

"So, you didn't deserve to have both a career and a family?"

His mouth twisted in a sneer of self-loathing. "Apparently not."

"You're being too hard on yourself."

"Mary is dead. I can't possibly be hard enough on myself to make up for that." He let out a harsh breath. "Listen, I don't want to talk about it anymore, okay?"