Gabe’s jaw clenched. His buddy had also said Spyros’s sources were reputed to be excellent. If Spyros had an informant in the Chicago PD, the hitman might already know Julie’s location.

“I talked with a friend in Interpol,” Gabe said. “He said they’ll watch for Spyros entering Alaska, but he’s gotten past them before.”

“So I’ve heard.” She still hadn’t lifted her gaze, so he put a finger under her chin. The fear he’d seen in her eyes when they met had returned.

Fuck, he wanted to kill this Spyros.

And he wanted to assure Julie she was safe here in Rescue. But she wasn’t a woman who’d appreciate lies.

He ran his knuckles down her cheek. “Whenever I see a movie hero promise a woman she’ll be safe, it pisses me off. No one, no matter how skilled, can guarantee safety. But, Julie, I’ll do everything I can to make sure you are.”

“Instead, can you help me get out of here without anyone knowing where I went?”

He could.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” An ache grew inside him. She wouldn’t have asked without weighing all her options. Yes, she’d be leaving, and he couldn’t tell her it was a bad decision.

She nodded.

“Yes, I’ll help, Julie.”

Her lips curved slightly. “It’s Audrey—as you know. I’d like it if you used it.”

“Audrey.” He bent his head and kissed her gently. The sigh she gave held the same sadness he felt. When her arms curled around his neck, he knew he wasn’t the only one feeling as if life had screwed up something that might have been very good.

Well, he’d give her the traditional warrior’s sendoff, even if it was the female who’d be going into battle.

Then, he’d declare open season on hitmen and do some hunting himself.

Rising, he scooped her into his arms, took her up the stairs, and laid her on his bed.

She sat up to look around.

He followed her gaze, trying to see his room with a woman’s eyes. Smoothed to a glossy finish, the headboard, footboard, and nightstands were rough-hewn, heavy lumber. The exposed wood ceiling beams and walls were stained a light golden color. Beige shag rugs beside the bed greeted bare feet on cold mornings. The hand quilted spread was a colorful jumble of dark red, white, and cream.

He’d deliberately kept the room’s colors lighter than downstairs. Getting out of bed was difficult enough during the black Alaskan winters; a cavelike room would make it worse.

Although waking up beside Audrey would brighten any man’s day.

She looked good sitting right there.

“Goldilocks, I’d say you found a bed that fits you just right.”