“What are you doing?” she demanded.
He reached around her, grabbing the rope and hooking it to both of their harnesses in several places, and then he hitched a device with two handles to the rope above their heads.
“What the hell!” she yelled.
Eian grinned down at her, his smile and teeth visible below his NVGs. “Hang on to my waist.”
With a yank on her harness at her chest, waist, and under her seat, Colleen zipped into the air, tethered to Eian the mercenary and the rope.
Floors of the hotel careened past.
Colleen grabbed Eian’s torso withbotharms andbothlegs andclungto him because her soul was trying to leave her body.
She screamed with her teeth clenched together and her lips clamped shut, so her own scream echoed in her ears and nose as they were sucked up the rope to the top.
Eian said, “Lift your feet,” and they sailed over the parapet and onto the balcony.
The ropes were not secured by a grappling hook on the rail but to a support jammed between the roof and the deck.
Eian landed on his feet.
Colleen clung to him like a frightened squid, her fingers cramping from holding onto fistfuls of the black fabric he wore.
The male body she was vining around as hard as she could, with her arms and legs clamped around him rather than plummet to the boulders and cacti below, was stonelike firm and whipcord strong.
Not that she noticed.
Well, of course shenoticed. That muscular beefcake was the only thing available for her to hold on to while she’d flown through the air and nearly plummeted to her death, so she’d plastered herself to him with every last bit of strength she had.
But Colleen had a boyfriend.
Maybe.
They should get that sorted out.
Eian shout-whispered,“Get off. Get off!We aren’t secure yet.”
Colleen pried her fingers off the fabric and tried to swallow the horrified squeals in her throat.
Her body was hanging from the two places their harnesses were latched together.
Eian unclipped them.
Colleen fell on her butt on the balcony.
She swiveled and scrambled to her feet. “Where’s Anjali?”
Eian said, “Front room is clear.” He led her inside, both of them stepping gingerly on the slippery gravel of the broken glass on the floor.
“Where is she?” Colleen scanned the living room of the suite.
Four Russian men who were clearly not as athletic as the commandos she’d come in with were lying facedown on the carpeting, their fingers interlaced behind their heads.
Tendrils of blue smoke drifted through the air. The noxious vapors stung Colleen’s nose and were bitter in the back of her throat.
“Where is she?” Colleen asked Eian.
Eian said, “Bedroom is secure. The female target is unaccounted for.”
