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“You can’t just get out,” I said. “Not an option. Not anymore. Sorry.”
Kat held up her hand. “You can’t kidnap me. That’s what this is, if you don’t let me out.”
Mick made another hard turn, and I slid right into her once again. I tried to brace myself with my legs, to hold myself in place and give her more space. “I don’t see it that way,” I said.
“I don’t care how you see it!” She tried to wiggle away, but there was no place to go. “You can’t do this!”
“I just did,” I said.
The guys tried, elaborately, to look at anything but me and Kat as the van descended into relative dimness of the parking garage below the building and rumbled to a stop. Shelby unfastened the reinforced steel door and slid it open.
Kat struggled to her feet, batting away my helping hand, and leaped out of the van. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll be on my way now.”
I grabbed her from behind. “Wait,” I said. “Just hold on. Let’s talk about this.”
“Let go of me, you son of a bitch!” She twisted wildly as I tightened my grip, marching her out through the echoing parking garage and toward yet another elevator.
When the elevator doors slid closed on us, she exploded. It was all I could do to hold on to her without injuring her during the long ride up. The other guys shrank back and gave us as much space as possible, while pretending not to watch.
“Need any help there?” Mick asked finally, over her grunts and shrieks.
“Nope,” I said, grimly patient. “I’ve got this.”
“You’ve got nothing, you arrogant piece of shit!” Her legs jackknifed and Trey dodged back just in time to avoid getting kicked in the face.
The elevator opened into a room on the edge of the helipad. The chopper was ready and roaring, rotor blades churning air.
The other men ran out to it, but Kat planted her feet and shot me a horrified look, her eyes huge and betrayed. The chopper’s wind coming through the open door made her hair swirl and snap around her face.
“I saved your sorry ass up there today, Ethan Masters,” she yelled. “You’d be stone dead or duct-taped to a chair if it wasn’t for me! And this is how you repay me?”
“Yeah, that’s right. I won’t let you get killed for your trouble. Call me selfish.”
I pulled her toward the door again—and pain exploded in my jaw, rocking my head back.
She’d sucker punched me. A swift, vicious uppercut beneath the chin.
With that, we were at it again, full on. I was blocking blows that came thick and fast. Fuck. Bad conditions for fighting. The woman had just saved my life. I’d be damned if I’d hurt her, in any way. Not a fucking hair on her head.
But I wasn’t letting her go, either. So it was tricky.
My guys were already strapped into the chopper and leaning forward to enjoy the show through the open door by the time I finally wrestled her down onto the cold concrete floor. I was using my body weight to pin her down, and blocking her arms. She was still arching and heaving under me. Damn, she was strong. My nose was streaming with blood from that punch.
I made a few adjustments and rolled us around, keeping her clamped between my legs, her back to my front, my legs wound tightly around hers, her arms wrapped around her waist, wrists immobilized by my hands.
I held her tense, straining body, tasting my own blood, and tried not to imagine how it would feel to have that lithe, graceful body writhing beneath me in bed. That was a sleazy thought to entertain while a woman was screaming obscenities at me.
I could have held her like that forever. Tired as I was, touching her made primitive show-her-who’s-boss hormones flood my system. Some instinct that impelled me. Strength was imperative. Not to hurt or control her, but just to reassure her that she was safe inside the circle of my arms. That it was worth her while to stay there.
Shit, what was I thinking? Sexual fantasies, while swallowing blood and trying to keep my balls from getting crushed by the violently athletic warrior maiden.
I must have a secret kinky side that I’d never known about.
She was trembling violently. Maybe a panic attack. God knows, she was entitled to one, after what just happened. Or maybe she hated flying. My best guess was that she simply hated being pushed around. I got it. We had that in common.
Her blouse was gaping again. I tried not to peek as I situated my mouth right at her ear. “Relax, Kat.”
That set her off again. We were both soaked with sweat. My heart was going at a pounding gallop and not just from the effort of immobilizing her. My post-combat hard-on was prodding her ass. Nothing I could do about that, under the circumstances.
