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He rolled over and tried to fluff the pillow and settle down. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think of anything but the beauty in bed next to him, who was so appealing but didn’t want him to flirt with her. This was looking to be a very, very long night.
Seconds ticked by like hours, and as he listened, her breath evened out. That was good. She needed sleep. They both did, but Kylee had to be exhausted from driving since last night and all the crazy stress surrounding her. It wasn’t every day the fate of the free world rested on your shoulders.
He needed to focus on getting her to Papa and trying to help protect the Delta secret and Kylee. He was probably going to miss playoffs. That stunk. Especially as his team would suffer without him there and they’d been slated to take the championship this year.
Crazily enough, his lifelong passion with lacrosse seemed to pale in comparison to how consumed he was with the woman lying next to him. He wanted to roll over, shove the pillows away, take her in his arms, and show her exactly how much she should want to be his “latest fling.”
That was wrong and Chandler wasn’t the type to have meaningless flings with “arm candy.” He wasn’t some flirtatious player, though Kylee had obviously seen and believed the hype that he was. How to convince her otherwise? Kissing her would probably solidify her fears. Was she even interested in him like he was in her? He couldn’t push her teenage rejection from his mind. It was silly, but it had been devastating to a sixteen-year-old boy who thought he’d found the love of his life.
When she’d appeared in the stands of his lacrosse game this afternoon, his sixteen-year-old self must’ve resurfaced, because he’d believed they would have their chance to be together forever like he used to dream about.
And apparently … she wasn’t into him and thought he was a heartbreaker and a jerk.
He punched his pillow and rolled over again.
The situation with King Frederik and the Delta secret should be his biggest worry, but all Chandler could think about was how taken he was with Kylee, and how she wasn’t returning the feeling. This sucked.
ChapterSeven
Hours passed as Chandler tossed and turned, tempted by Kylee’s soft exhalations and the picture of her in his mind. He wanted to push the pillows out of the way and gather her in his arms. How would she react to that? Probably not too well. Maybe she’d curse him in some foreign language. He’d forgotten to ask her what she’d said when they’d been shot at and the other times she’d said some phrase loudly. The different languages seemed to come out when she was upset. She was so irresistible. How to make her think he was the man she couldn’t resist?
His eyes were finally growing heavy and he thanked heaven that he might drift off to sleep when a soft beep sounded. Chandler eased up in the bed and watched as their door handle turned. The exterior door slowly cracked open. A shaft of light from the hallway penetrated the darkened room.
Chandler’s heart was suddenly racing for reasons that had nothing to do with Kylee’s attractiveness and everything to do with her safety being in his capable but not as expert as his family members’ hands. Any silly frustrations were shoved away, and he was grateful he hadn’t fallen asleep.
His options now were to rush across the room and take the person out when they opened that door or he could fake being asleep and surprise the person. He didn’t like option B as their assailant could shoot them both while Chandler laid in bed waiting to make his move.
A tool slid into the small opening and the person tried to manipulate the metal flip lock that Chandler had pushed over the door for added security.
He had a bit more time than he’d thought. He carefully slid out of the bed, picking up the pistol he’d set on the nightstand. Then he crept, he hoped quietly, toward the fireplace. He remembered seeing a fire poker over here. It was the best idea he had for a weapon that could incapacitate without a loud shot being fired. He wanted to take the person out but not kill them so he could get the information he needed. How had they been found again and who had sent the person?
He slid the 9mm he’d taken from Creepy Eyes into his shorts pocket and picked up the fire poker. Turning, he could see the guy was still messing with the door guard. At least he wasn’t already in the room, and he didn’t seem to have heard Chandler.
Edging to the wall, he worked his way silently along it until he was almost to the door. He could see the tool working and then the person finally flipped the catch out of the way. It clanged. Not loudly, but Chandler could feel the person freeze and wait to see if he’d woken either of them. Chandler didn’t dare move either. He held his breath and prayed Kylee wouldn’t wake and draw the invader’s attention to her.
The door edged open and he could see a tall, bald man silhouetted from the hallway light. If he had to guess, it was Creepy Eyes. The guy edged in, staring at the bed and Kylee’s silhouette. His right arm lifted, a pistol in his grip.
Any of his brothers would’ve pulled out their own pistol and shot the man, but Chandler was much more comfortable with a stick. He hefted the fire poker and brought it down fast and hard on the man’s outstretched arm. Bone cracked, and the guy cried out in agony. The pistol dropped to the floor, luckily not discharging.
“Chandler?” Kylee cried out.
“Stay back,” he cautioned.
Chandler was an expert at wielding a stick. He wasn’t proud of all the time he’d spent in the penalty box over the years, but right now each of those penalties, and the clean hits he’d taken credit for over the years, served him well. He drew on the experience from lacrosse and from his dad, uncle, and grandpa training him, and the strength from working out hard every day. He wound up with the fire poker and slammed it with all his strength into the man’s gut.
The guy crashed against the doorframe and then crumpled to the ground, gasping for air and whimpering in pain. Chandler thought the guy would live, but he might have internal injuries.
Holding on to the fire poker in case the guy got any ideas, or had more fight in him, Chandler grabbed the man by his good arm and yanked him into the room. He let the door fall closed behind him, released his grip, and pulled out the 9mm from his pocket.
This late at night, nobody had been in the hall and it didn’t seem any of the other rooms had heard the fight. This high-dollar hotel was as soundproof as it was well built.
“Chandler?” Kylee asked again, her voice filled with panic.
He glanced at her and said, “Turn on a light, please. I think our friend Creepy Eyes found us again.”
Kylee gasped and muttered, “So ein sheil.” The lamps and accents above the cabinets and planter shelves flipped on and she scrambled out of bed. She looked beautifully disheveled and Chandler would not let her get hurt. Ever. He had this weird swelling inside him. Kylee was his to protect and even if he wasn’t an expert at protection like the rest of his family, he was proficient and he would give his life to keep her safe. The heaviness and intensity of that should’ve scared him. It didn’t.
“Please stay back,” Chandler cautioned. He didn’t know what other weapons this guy had or if he’d rouse himself and fight again.
