Switched. HelenKay Dimon
Aaron didn’t let that part of the conversation go any further. “I want a name.”
“I don’t know.” The man shouted his answer this time.
Fearing the guy had an earpiece or a mic, Aaron ended the interrogation. With a sweep of his arm, he landed a sleeping blow to the side of the guy’s head, knocking him unconscious.
“He’s still bleeding,” she said.
“Right.” Part of him didn’t mind the idea of this guy bleeding out, not after what he’d tried to do to Risa, but Aaron figured he’d lost enough humanity in this job. He couldn’t afford much more.
Using the cloth towels on the sink top, he constructed a makeshift bandage and pressed it hard to the guy’s side, anchoring it there with his belt.
Risa leaned over Aaron’s shoulder. “Will that be enough?”
He didn’t pretend to be a medical expert, but he knew the guy needed real attention soon. “For now.”
After a quick check for more weapons and a phone, which proved futuile, Aaron turned back to Risa, expecting to see fear or disgust at the violence and bloodshed. Instead, she bit her lower lip, as if in deep thought.
“What is going on? I came to check out a party venue and walked into some sort of mistaken-identity nightmare.” Her voice slowly returned to normal as she spoke. Gone was the tremor of fear. In its place was a simple determination to get through the next few minutes.
Aaron appreciated the change, and the bluntness of her response startled him into an honest answer. “It looks like someone is planning an attack against the businessman downstairs and is using a woman to get to him.”
“This Angie person.”
“Yes, and I have no idea how anyone would confuse the two of you.” Aaron’s mind shifted to the Lowell’s mistress. They both had long brown hair and hovered around five foot six. But the similarities stopped there.
Angie was in her early thirties, a few years older than Risa, with a deep bourbon-soaked voice and a buxom Barbie Doll shape that had men discounting her brains. Aaron didn’t like the overly done look, but he never underestimated her. The woman ran the office with a quiet confidence and manipulated everyone in it, ignoring the affair whispers blowing around her.
Where Angie reminded Aaron of smoke-filled back rooms and expensive jewelry tastes, Risa … glowed. With the soft skin and shiny hair, it was as if sunshine kept her in its sights. The skeptic in him wondered if he’d seen so much bad that goodness of any type got magnified to an unrealistic degree.
His luck with women usually made sure that didn’t happen. One broken engagement hadn’t ruined him for all women, but it did make him wary. But he’d been struck by Risa from the very first time he saw her fighting with her laptop in a coffee shop a few weeks ago. Wearing sweatpants and a slim T-shirt, she’d had that sexy, ruffled, just-out-of-bed look that had sent his temperature spiking.
She didn’t have to work very hard at being pretty. When you turned over on the mattress in the morning, you knew who you’d see on the pillow beside you. She wouldn’t have to put on her face first. At least that’s how it had worked in Aaron’s mind. He’d never gotten as far as the bed, or even the couch, let alone a kiss, with Risa.
Yet.
Risa treated him to a half smile. “You know when I see this Angie person and do a comparison, you might get punched for that comment, right?”
“I’d prefer you anytime and anywhere.” He held a hand up as a pledge. “Couldn’t be more serious about that.”
Risa lifted an eyebrow but didn’t respond to that. “Why are these two up here? It’s supposed to be closed off.”
“Good question.” He put his hands on her upper arms and with as little pressure as possible, moved her until she stood near the opening to the room with her back against the wall. “Stay right there.”
“Where else would I go?”
She sounded almost exasperated with his suggestion. She did everything but snort. He had to smile at her spunk. She’d been manhandled and threatened, seen men shot and attacked. Still, she stood there and handled it all. Not bad for a woman who sat behind a desk all day.
Aaron dragged the attacker by his ankles from the hallway and dropped his body next to his partner by the stall. After a check of the leader’s pockets, Aaron unloaded the weapons, littering the floor, pocketing the all the ammunition and dumping the guns in the toilet. He kept the leader’s secondary gun in case he needed an extra.
He had one last problem as he glanced up at Risa. “Any chance you have any rope?”
She lifted her arms. “Not on me.”
“Thought it was worth a shot.”
“There are cables and those sorts of things around as part of the construction.”
That meant a trip around the building looking for supplies. He doubted they had that sort of time, not when Royal had gone silent. “We’ll block the door and trust they’ll be out long enough for us to get downstairs and out of the building.”
“And if not?”
He stood in front of her, his gaze locked on hers. “I can’t be that unlucky.”
“You’re saying that as a tax attorney, of course.”
He didn’t try to hide the wince. He’d hoped he’d have another few minutes before the need for an explanation caught up and smacked him in the face. “What makes you think I’m not a lawyer?”
She eyed his hand. “The gun.”
“I can explain.”
Her head dropped to the side. “Are you going to?”
“Not right now.”
“Normally I’d insist, but since I want to leave this place right now—ten minutes ago, actually—we can save the I-lied-to-you-about-everything conversation for later.”
Not exactly a bullet dodged. “I’m not really looking forward to that.”
“Imagine how I feel.”
“Good point.”
Chapter Four
Risa slipped into the hallway behind Aaron, never easing up on her double-fisted grip on his jacket. This close, pressed against his back, she felt a subtle minty scent tingle her senses and block out the smell of new paint. She leaned in, almost touching her nose to his rich brown hair, and drew in a hint of his shampoo. Fresh, clean and nonfussy.
Until he showed up waving a gun around, she’d viewed him as uncomplicated and easy. When he’d dropped into the seat across from her at the coffee shop that day they first met, she’d found him to be handsome and smart, with an open smile that lit up his face.
She loved his slightly crooked nose, which he explained got banged up in a college lacrosse game. During their dinner dates, he’d wait until dessert and then slip his hand into hers. Leaving the restaurant, he’d press his palm against the sensitive small of her back. But at every point she thought he’d move their relationship forward, he pulled back.
She’d started to wonder if the attraction only sparked one way. Now she knew something much bigger was going on. He had a secret life. Since she needed his protection and the gun he seemed to handle so well, she didn’t hold his other life against him at the moment. There would be time for that later … she hoped.
“Risa?”
“Yes?” She matched her whisper to his as the bathroom door slipped shut behind her.
“I can’t breathe.”
“What?”
He