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Ace found trousers that fit a little loosely around his middle and a pullover polo shirt.
“His lady friend had good taste in clothes,” Jasmine said, pulling a black, form-fitting, ribbed-knit shirt over her head, smoothing it down her body. She stepped into a pair of gray trousers, buttoned and zipped. “I much prefer wearing underwear, but I’ll have to do without for now.”
Ace grinned. “I’ll imagine you naked beneath the borrowed clothes.”
Jasmine’s lips twisted and a thrill of lust made her core heat all over again. As much as she’d love to stay in bed all day with Ace, her son took precedence.
She tugged at the waistband of the trousers. “They’re a little snug, but they’ll work.” She dug out a pair of running shoes and tried them on. “I need to meet Fearghas’s lady friend. We’re almost the same size, though I think she’s a bit taller.” Her lips twisting in a wry grin, she stared down at the hem of the trousers that would drag a little on the ground.
Ace had put on socks he’d found in one of Fearghas’s drawers and pulled on his boots. He straightened and shook his head. “We’re getting dressed when we should be resting.”
Jasmine squared her shoulders. “We can rest fully dressed. We can’t run easily, half-clothed and without shoes.”
“Good point.” He led the way out of Fearghas’s bedroom. A light blinked on, catching his attention from the corner of his eye. He turned toward the set of monitors on the wall. The external camera displayed a man on a motorcycle speeding toward the garage.
“Fearghas’s back,” Jasmine said as she came to stand beside him.
The man on the motorcycle skidded sideways to a stop. As soon as the door was high enough, he raced in.
By then, the monitor showcasing the garage interior had blinked on. Fearghas leaped off the bike and ran for the staircase. At the base of the rusty stairs, he smacked his palm on the wall. The garage door rolled downward. Fearghas ran up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time.
Ace’s pulse kicked into high gear. “He’s in a hurry.”
“I can see why,” Jasmine pointed at the external screen.
An SUV screeched to a halt in front of the garage. Men leaped out carrying rifles and machine guns.
“Get to the escape hatch,” Ace said, his voice tight, his pulse now hammering through his veins. “I’m going to let Fearghas in.”
When Jasmine hesitated, Ace said, “Go!”
She jumped and ran out of Fearghas’s bedroom and into the guest room.
As Ace raced across the living room, he heard pounding on the garage door below. He waved his hand over the light beside the sliding door panel, and it slid open.
Fearghas dove through. “We have to go.” He waved his hand over the light, and the door slid closed.
Ace spun and ran toward the guest bedroom.
The attic stairs were down.
Jasmine leaned down from above, the satchel looped across her body. “Hurry!”
Ace clambered up the stairs. Once at the top, he looked back. Fearghas wasn’t behind him.
A couple of moments later, Fearghas appeared, carrying a backpack. He started up the stairs.
As he neared the top, Ace held out his hand.
Fearghas grabbed it, and Ace yanked him up into the attic.
Fearghas leaned down, snagged a rope beside the stairs and pulled them up.
Jasmine was already at the door on the far side of the attic. She pushed it open and stepped out into the night.
A large crash sounded below.
Fearghas muttered a curse. “They’ve breached the garage. It’ll take them a minute to get into the apartment.” He pushed past Ace and ran for the attic door.
