72 Hours. Dana Marton
go at the end. Now that you shot their men, they are going to kill the people we left behind. Because of me. I can’t live with that. I’m not that kind of person. I can’t.” There was urgency and desperation in her voice. “Please,” she added with her unique mix of vulnerability and determination.
She wasn’t a delicate woman. She was vivacious. She had lively eyes, a full mouth and a stubborn jawline. She laughed from the heart and cried from the heart.
He still had a crush on her. The realization caught him off guard. That rush of attraction, the magnetic pull. A crush—that was all it was. He imagined there wasn’t a man who could go within ten feet of Kate Hamilton without developing a little crush on her.
He could disarm a nuclear warhead. He should be able to neutralize some leftover attraction.
“Parker?”
She wouldn’t give up. She wasn’t the type. When someone needed help, Kate Hamilton was your gal. She’d charged to the rescue of neighbors, friends and coworkers alike, making time to find homes for strays she picked up on the street. Which made her a fine consul, he supposed, since part of her job was to assist U.S. citizens who ran into trouble here in France. She could manage a problem like nobody’s business.
“Please?”
Those eyes were going to be the death of him. Oh, hell, when had he ever been able to resist her?
He drew a deep breath, recognizing himself for the fool he was. “Okay. I’ll get you out. Once you’re safe, I’ll come back to see what I can do for the others.” And the Colonel was probably going to fry his ass. A freaking barbecue.
“How can you even think about taking only me?” She was outraged and not bothering to hide it.
“Because that is precisely the order I got.” He kept his voice deceptively low, although his blood was fairly boiling.
“From whom?”
He stayed silent.
“Some orders need to be questioned.”
She’d never met the Colonel. “Maybe you question too much,” he said.
“We should go back for them right now.” Her voice had a lot of steel in it.
Something told him Kate had toughened up a lot since he’d last seen her. Or maybe that core of steel had been there all along, and he’d just never seen it because he’d been too busy running from one mission to the next, never having enough time for her, always leaving her behind.
No wonder she had walked out.
He watched her in the dim light and fought against the tide of emotions. No regrets. Not now. He walled off the memories. They could reminisce once they got out of this hellhole.
But first he had to placate her and gain her cooperation. Her cooperation! He was here to save her, dammit. She was supposed to jump into his arms, misty with gratitude. If he’d had more time, he would have spent a moment or two enjoying that fantasy.
“How about this? I’ll neutralize as many rebels on our way out as I can, evening the odds for the hostages whom we are temporarily leaving behind.” Even though a silent exit would have been by far preferable and had been specifically requested by the Colonel. “I’ll do whatever I can for the hostages on our way out as long as it doesn’t put you in jeopardy. That’s nonnegotiable.”
She looked around thoughtfully, as if taking stock of the basement, then back at him. “We bring the hostages down here. They can barricade themselves until help comes. There’s only one entrance to the basement. The rebels might not even find them down here by the time the building is taken back. Nobody gets killed because of me. That’s non-negotiable.”
She was managing the problem.
She was insane. And yet, the plan did have some merit. And damn, but he liked her pluck. Always had. He’d always liked everything about her.
All they had to do was go back up to the second floor where the gym was and make sure the hostages got to the coal chute without being seen. The hostages would come down, Kate and he would go up the two extra floors to the roof. They had to pass through the second floor anyway. Once they were at the gym, they’d be halfway to their destination.
Lightning cracked outside. He thought he heard rain.
“Deal,” he said.
August 10, 01:57
“HOW DID you get in?” Kate asked half an hour later—they’d searched the basement inch by inch to make sure there really wasn’t another exit—pretty happy about getting her way. It wasn’t every day that Parker McCall yielded to someone.
“Through the roof.” He stood at the top of the staircase, pulled out his cell phone, opened it, then swore briefly. “Doesn’t work down here.”
He looked a lot cleaner than ten minutes ago. They had spent some time brushing soot off their clothes, off each other. That had been a picnic and a half. She’d just about jumped out of her skin when he touched her. It had taken everything she had not to let him see that he could still affect her with as little as a brush of his knuckles.
“Through the roof how?”
“From the next building. The rebels heavily secured the main entrances. Can’t get in or out through there without a major fight. They were focused on that when I got here, hadn’t gotten to securing the roof yet. I’m sure that has been done by now, but we’ll fight our way out if we have to.”
Fight. Oh God. She was scared stiff. Although if anyone could get her out of here, it was Parker. Especially this new, military version.
“How many are there?”
“Two dozen, tops. They’re spread out over the four floors. Have to keep the whole building secured. They can’t spare more than a handful for the roof. And up there, it’s pitch-dark—a definite advantage.”
For Parker. She, on the other hand, was afraid of the dark, especially when it hid murderous rebels. Parker looked…almost excited, as if this was nothing but a game.
“Are you going to tell me who you really are?” she asked.
He was Parker, but not her Parker. Not the man she had fallen in love with. This Parker was a lot darker and infinitely more dangerous. He moved with feline grace and constant preparedness. He had shot people without blinking an eye. She still couldn’t process that.
He shrugged.
He’d always been darkly mysterious in a brooding-but-gorgeous kind of way, but now… “You—”
He had his hand over her mouth the next second, his hard body pushing her against the wall, into the shadows as he towered over her. But she didn’t feel threatened, not for a second, never with Parker. She felt protected, but she wouldn’t admit to herself just how much she had missed that. Voices filtered down from above.
They stood motionless, although since the stairs were made of stone, they didn’t have to worry about creaking wood giving them away. But she barely dared to breathe, feeling paralyzed all of a sudden, and unsure if it came from the proximity of danger or the proximity of the man who had the power to liquefy her knees.
Parker ran a calming hand down her arm, which she didn’t find calming in the least.
His skin still smelled the same—well, almost, plus hundred-year-old coal dust. On him, it smelled sexy. His body was still incredible, his lips still just as sensuous. He could still arouse her with a touch. The full-frontal contact was wreaking havoc with her senses.
And she panicked, because in her perfect little world, she had managed to convince herself that she was over him, that if they ever met again, she could walk by him without batting an eye. And here she was, assailed by such a sharp sense of longing it stole her breath away. It took all her willpower not to bury her face into the base of his throat