Her eyes narrowed. Her mouth opened. Then closed.
“Good girl,” he said.
“I’m not a girl. I’m a grown woman.”
He knew his eyes went hot, knew his voice sounded low and husky, but he couldn’t help it. “I realize that.”
“Do you? Do you realize there’s no need to be rude? Just because your manhood feels threatened by me suggesting you might need my help-”
His manhood didn’t feel threatened so much as…horny. “I don’t need your help-” He broke off when another bullet tore into the control panel, getting ensnared high in the corner this time. Not forgetting to save her ungrateful hide, Kyle drew her down into the corner yet again.
They stayed that way for a moment, until he realized how still she’d become. Damn. She’d probably, finally, gone into shock.
But then she shoved him off her, stood and hiked up her dress, revealing a pair of long, toned legs in thigh-high stockings rimmed with lace, held there by a simple white, devastatingly sexy garter belt.
His jaw dropped. “What-” His voice cracked like a teenager and he tried again. “What are you doing?”
“Did you see that? The direction of the bullet entry?”
Yes, damn it, he had. Jimmy was still below them.
“I’m safe going first.” She put her lifted skirt between her teeth. Then she shoved not one, not two, but three hoops down her legs. Stepping out of them with a sigh, she took her skirt in her hands.
Rip.
Okay, she’d succumbed to the stress. He’d never actually seen it happen, but had heard of such things. She was going to tear off her dress and go running naked through the streets. Maybe even sexually attack him. He had to stop her, help her, but good God, he’d gotten a quick glimpse of barely there white-lace panties. Just a tiny little wisp of material between her legs, hardly covering-
With one last rip, she straightened and tossed aside miles of material, leaving her with the form-fitting bodice of the dress still in place, but the wild skirt was completely subdued and laying nicely against her body to midthigh.
“There,” she said. “Better. Now… You need to lift me up to get us out of here.” Without another word, she walked behind him and lifted her hands to his shoulders.
“Say pretty please with sugar on top,” she breathed in his ear, “and I’ll be sure to pause at the top to give you a hand.”
He blinked. “What?”
“Boost me up.”
“But…” What had just happened? Here he was, poised to fight off her sexual advances, but she hadn’t jumped his bones at all.
“Come on,” she said, pushing on his shoulders. “Up.”
So that’s how he found himself putting his hands over hers to steady her and going to his knees.
Helping her to his shoulders should have been a breeze, but by the time she’d plastered her chest to his upper back, then climbed up his body, rubbing her breasts against the back of his neck, panting in his ear, pausing for balance, he was sweating again.
“Okay,” she said, balanced on his shoulders, still holding his hands. “I’m ready.”
“Be careful.”
“Just lift me up.”
He had a moment to think again about how amazing she really was. How she was together and perfectly willing to pitch in to save their lives. That she was also annoying and bad tempered went without saying. Maybe it was her way of showing shock.
Her toes dug into his shoulders. They were bare of polish but she had a silver ring on the second toe of her left foot. Her hands in his remained cool and steady, and as he straightened, so did she, in perfect balance, reaching for the panel above them.
“Nice and easy,” he said, sliding his hands from her ankles to her calves for extra support, then farther up the backs of her legs to hold her low on her thighs.
He knew, or his brain knew, that now wasn’t really the time to enjoy the soft, smooth silkiness of her stocking-covered legs, but it wasn’t his brain running the show at the moment.
“Nice and easy has its place,” she said breathlessly. “But not here.” Grunting, she manhandled the middle panel aside. Another grunt and she started to pull herself through the hatch above the elevator.
Kyle made the mistake of looking up.
Directly beneath her dress. With the help of his hands on her, she used her muscles to rise. He watched her legs strain, tremble. Watched her perfectly rounded butt clench.
And because he was watching where he shouldn’t, he didn’t see her foot kick out for purchase and find his face until stars exploded in his head.
By the time he could see again, she was gone. Completely gone.
“Hey,” he whispered, panicked. Damn, he’d known better. He’d sent her, an innocent, no matter how irritating and sexy and brave, directly into the hands of Jimmy.
Then her face appeared in the hole above. “What’s taking you so long?”
He was so weak he nearly stumbled back against the wall of the elevator. “You’re okay.”
“Of course I’m okay. Hey, cop man, hurry up, will you?”
He tore off his jacket, shoved up his sleeves and leaped up, but couldn’t quite reach the top of the elevator.
“Hang on,” she said, then vanished. She reappeared a moment later to toss down a large empty box. “I got this from the second-floor hallway. We’re only a few feet short of that floor. Be quick, I think I hear him coming.”
“Be quick,” he muttered to himself, using the box as leverage, grabbing on to the opening to pull himself up.
“Took you long enough,” she said in lieu of a greeting, waiting with barely contained impatience.
Kyle’s fingers itched with an overwhelming desire to reach out and put his hands around her neck. “I’m here now.”
“Good job,” she whispered, absently patting his shoulder, as if he was an idiot. As if she was the one in charge. As if he was her burden. “Now stick with me.”
“Wait a minute. You’re sticking with me or I’ll leave you here as bait. Got it? Good. Now I’ll lead, so move over.”
She blinked at him in surprise and he felt like a jerk.
Hell, he was a jerk. What had happened to his legendary patience? “I’m sorry. Please move over.”
Not surprisingly, she thrust up that chin again. “Saying please when you’re still being a bully, does not make it okay.” And with that, she took the lead and crawled through the space out into a dark hallway. Then she craned her neck to peek at him, her finger to her lips, because clearly he couldn’t be trusted to know when to shut up.
“Wait.” He was supposed to lead. He was saving her.
But she didn’t wait, and it occurred to him, he’d never followed before. He didn’t like that, or the fact that she was moving too fast, too recklessly. Surely she was going to fall and break her pretty little neck, or at the very least, alert Jimmy to their location. Reaching out, he grabbed her ankle and tugged.
And tugged.
“I said wait,” he said into her ear when he’d pulled her to him. He had all that gold hair and sweet, sexy scent tangling his brain cells now. “Get behind me.”
“Fine.” Now her jaw was all bunchy. “But let’s climb up to the third floor,” she said.
He hated to admit that it was the logical thing to do. Going down was a bad idea, at least until reinforcements came. “Okay, back into the elevator shaft, to the third floor,” he agreed. “Me first.” He was fairly certain Jimmy wasn’t smart enough to locate them, but if he did, Kyle wanted to be out front. “Did you hear me?”
“How can I help but hear you? You’re yelling in my ear.”
“Yeah, yeah…” He moved to crawl past her, his big body brushing against her much smaller one, and he was simultaneously bombarded with sensations. Temper and heat.
Temper and need.
But mostly just temper.
ANNIE DEALT with her own temper. “So who is this guy anyway?” she asked as they climbed. “Someone you’ve won over with all your considerable charm and wit?”
He stopped to send her a dry look. “He’s the punk nephew of a mobster I just helped put away.”
“Interesting life you lead.” They’d gone about five feet up, when she stopped.
She sniffed and went still. “I smell smoke, cop man.”
“Pull your shirt over your nose and keep climbing. We’ll get out on the third floor, find the stairs and come back down,” came the terse reply.
So much for comforting platitudes. She was climbing as fast as she could, which was pretty damn fast. Good thing she had an affinity for climbing. All her tree scaling and climbing walls or whatever she could get her hands on since she could walk, had come in handy today.
But the smoke burned her lungs, and she fought the urge to cough.
“I said cover your mouth,” he said.
“I don’t have a shirt.”
“Then don’t breathe,” he said gruffly, and encouraged her to follow with a sharp tug on her wrist.
That was another thing about him, this soon-to-be-married cop. He kept touching her.
She wondered if his wife-to-be knew he had a thing with touching.
It wasn’t often that she was touched, period. People in her country respected their royals, and kept a distance. She had her father, once a warm, loving man, but he’d lost much of his zest for life after her mother had died twelve years before. She had her sisters, when they weren’t fighting.
Few others had been allowed to touch Annie, though there had been the occasional affair during her naive days, back when she believed there was a man for her out there somewhere. Once in a while she dreamed about that still, a man’s hands on her. Solid and sure and arousing.
But the dreams had turned out to be better than reality.
The smoke was thicker now. She let out a cough, her lungs starting to feel squeezed.
“You okay?” He patted his hand between her shoulder blades, but she kept coughing, mostly because he didn’t seem to know his own strength. “Damn, Pink, keep your lungs in your chest.” Without a care for the loaned shirt on his back, he ripped it off, tearing the thing in half with his bare hands. He put one half over her face, before he covered his mouth with the other half.
Their eyes met, and she saw the frantic concern in his, so she nodded, then continued shimmying up the narrow hatch.
At the top, he held her back, making sure he was the first one out into what she feared would be an open hallway, making them easy targets.
But the third floor was some sort of warehouse, filled to the brim with huge storage containers the size of wardrobes, each probably filled with more torturous dresses. And while containers provided cover for them, they also provided that same cover to Jimmy.
Her cop-sooner or later she’d have to stop thinking of him as hers-reached down, grabbed her hand and pulled her up. For a moment, their bodies collided and he held her still, looking her over.
“I’m okay,” she said.
“You’re amazing, is what you are.” He moved to a window and carefully peered out, leaving her with the most incredible view of his now bare, sleek back. “At least five black-and-whites down there. That’s the good news.”
“And the bad?”
He moved away from the window. “Until Jimmy is caught or gives himself up, we’re on the third floor of a possibly burning building, the hostages of a wild idiot with a gun. Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“Out of ideas, are you?” He guided her to the west wall, where there was a door.
“Stairs?”
“Shh.” He put his ear to it, then his hand.
She wrestled with the urge to put her ear and hand and everything else against his bare back.
Taken, she reminded herself. He’s taken. “Let’s go out the window,” she suggested. “The cops can cover us.”
“Unless you’re Spider Woman, bad idea. There’s no fire escape.”
“No, but we can shimmy down the storm drain.”
He stared at her. “Who the hell are you?”
“Cops aren’t the only ones with nerves of steel,” she said. “Try being a princess.”
“What?”
“You want a formal introduction?” She curtsied, not an easy move in her cut-off dress. “Your Serene Highness Andrea Katrine Fran Brunner of Grunberg, at your service. But the at-your-service part is just a formality, you understand. I’m not really at your ser-”
“You hit your head in the elevator, right?”
“I came here for the wedding.” She tried not to sound bitter about that, because really, just because he was big, strong and gorgeous didn’t mean she wanted him for herself. Nope. He was too stubborn, too confident, too…everything. “You can just call me Annie, if that’s easier.”
“Annie.” He was looking at her as if she was from Mars.
“I’m telling you the truth. Grunberg is a perfectly nice little country, right next to Switzerland.”
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