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By the time we reach the top floor, I’m hopped up on adrenaline and barely remember to breathe. There’s no avoiding it. I’m going to have to fight my way out of this. The elevator doors slide open…
One of the men puts their grubby hands on my shoulder. “Ms. Allegra, you’re coming with us.
I spin around and drive my knee straight into his balls. “The fuck I am!” I shout before immediately sprinting down the hall.
I chose the top floor on purpose. If they want to drag me out of here, they’ll have to do it while I’m kicking and screaming all the way back down.Someoneis bound to see or hear me calling for help, and I have the descent of thirty floors to do it.
They’re in hot pursuit and gaining.
I shove an unattended maid’s cart at them as I race forward, sending all manner of toiletries flying. The second guard trips and stumbles, face planting into the burgundy-colored hotel carpet. I can’t spare any sympathy, choosing instead to continue my race toward the stairwell exit.
Vertigo slams into me when I make the mistake of looking down the spiraling stairs. The steps seem to go on forever while the cement walls that support the stairwell close in on me. I don’t know which is more prominent—my fear of plummeting to my death or my claustrophobia.
Behind me, loud and heavy footsteps continue. They’re still after me, but I’ve come too far to give up now. I suck in a sharp breath through clenched teeth and hop the rail, dropping down the center of the stairwell to the next floor.
“Holy shit!” one of the guys shouts. “She jumped!”
“Don’t just stand there! Go after—Argh!”
“Who the fuck are—”
I drop from floor to floor to floor until I’ve put roughly five levels between us. The muscles in my forearms burn, and my hands shake like crazy. If I miscalculate or hesitate, I might end up smacking my ribs against the rails—or worse, crack my skull open.
I stop on the twenty-third floor and escape into the hotel hallway, panting hard as my heart drums loudly in my ear. According to the signs posted on the walls, there’s an ice room here. When I reach the door, I run inside and slam it behind me, nothing but the electric hum of the ice machine to keep me company in the dark.
Out in the hall, I can only hear the slow, careful strides of one person. Did they split up to cover more ground?
The footsteps slow just outside the ice room’s door, a heavy shadow visible beneath the small gap in the doorframe. I don’t move an inch, too afraid to give away my position. I pray that if I’m quiet enough, buddy will move on. If not…
If not, I’m in for the fight of my life.
“You can come out now,” a deep voice rumbles just on the other side. “They’ve been taken care of.”
Confusion swirls inside my chest. Taken care of? Who is this guy?
Regardless, I remain hidden and still.
There’s a polite knock on the door, three soft raps from the back of someone’s knuckles.
“Ms. Doe, right?” he asks. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you can trust me.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Was he listening to my conversation with the hotel clerk? Had I really been so careless as to let Esteban’s men get that close?
“Damn it,” I grumble under my breath before I yank the door open.
I lunge at the man with a vicious cry, digging my nails into him like a feral jungle cat. I kick and I punch, but he’s a solid wall—an immovable object to my unstoppable force. The man easily takes hold of both my wrists, pivoting his hips so I stumble over my own feet. He expertly maneuvers me like I’m nothing more than a sack of flour, pinning my body against the wall with his own up against mine.
“Relax,” he growls. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I’m not going back!” I scream in his face. “You can’t make me go back! I swear to God, I’ll kill myself before I’ll ever let that man—”
He cuts me off with a kiss.
It’s so startling and out of nowhere that I gasp. Lips crashing against lips, tongues sliding over tongues. I’m surprised how quickly it goes from being harsh and frantic to tender and slow. A soft moan pulls itself from my lungs as he deepens the kiss—my first ever. Everything about his touch is delicious and divine.
I like the roughness of his stubble, the commanding nature of his lips. He smells woody with a hint of citrus. The hard press of his body against mine awakens something inside me, a wet heat pooling between my legs as I relinquish control.
I know in an instant this isn’t one of Esteban’s men because no one woulddaretouch what he considers his.
