I have Andy’s hand as we run out of the downpour to shelter. She’s been silent since we got off the bike. I left it in the street, and now I toss the keys to one of the guys at the door. He nods without a word, knowing immediately what I need from him. The bike will be safely back in its usual space in the morning. The benefits of having a professional team. Whitlock’s guys had been fools.
I aim a surreptitious look at Andy as we make our way to the elevator. Her face is pale, her hair clinging damply to her head and cheeks. Her dress is soaked through, and her feet are still bare. She ditched the shoes back at the club, which was smart. But her teeth chatter as we wait for the lift doors to open. I pull her up against me and wrap my arms around her. I’ve wanted to do this since she left.
“I_” she starts, her hands against my chest as she tilts her face up to me.
“You’re cold.” I pull her into the warmth of my body and tighten my arms around her. After a second of resistance, I feel her melt against me. And for a brief moment, I allow myself to breathe again.
This night has been one of the most terrifying of my entire life.
Seeing that fucker’s hands on her. That blade against her throat… I could have lost her. Then later, as we were dodging bullets, I’d been so acutely aware of the danger, that it was almost impossible to imagine making it out of there alive.
Fucking Raoul is going to have a lot to answer for. The little shit swore he’d give me time to get her out of there. Simply providing some cover while I dragged her across that damn war zone was hardly the window he’d promised.
I’m going to knock his teeth down his throat when I see him again.
She’s still shuddering against me, but the movement is beginning to grow less convulsive. By the time the doors ding open as we reach my floor, she’s almost still.
I’m not ready to let her go yet, though.
There are more men outside my door, and I give a curt nod as they look up at us. I feel Andy stiffen and realize she’s probably terrified at the sight of strangers. Who wouldn’t be? She handled it like a fucking trooper, though. The woman’s incredible.
But when I feel her sway slightly as I step to the door, I don’t hesitate to sweep her up and carry her through it.
“Mateo!” Her hand hits my shoulder. “I can walk. Put me down.”
I look down at her drawn features. The lips that are almost bloodless.
“I’m getting you inside. You need to warm up.” When she wriggles, I hold her more tightly. There’s no way she’s getting away from me now.
“I’m fine,” she objects. I ignore her, jerking my head at one of the guys. He punches a code into the door’s access pad and shoves it open then steps aside to let me through. Maybe he’s used to seeing guys dragging unwilling women around. Or maybe he just knows better than to question me about it right now. I’m pretty sure my expression speaks volumes.
I’m torn between rage and relief. Not to mention a host of other conflicting emotions that are still bubbling in my chest. By the time I finally set her down, I’m struggling to find words. She stares up at me for a second, her lips moving, but not speaking. Speechless too.
The storm outside continues to rage, lightning ripping the darkness beyond the windows of my apartment. Even through double-glazing, I can hear the sound of thunder. Or maybe that’s just my heart.
I reach a hand up to cup her cheek.
“God, Andy_”
“Don’t touch me!” she snaps and slaps my hand away. I blink and then frown at her.
What the fuck?
“Don’t touch you?” I repeat.
“I fucking had him!” she bites out. “Right here!” She raises a cupped hand and jabs a finger into her palm. “You ruined everything!”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” What the hell is she talking about? “I saved your life, you goddamn idiot!”
“Idiot?” Her eyes go wide. “You’re calling me an idiot?”
“What else would be appropriate? Lunatic? Suicidal maniac? I walked in there and you had a knife to your throat!”
“It wouldn’t have been there if you hadn’t shown up!”
“Really? Then what exactly would have happened if I hadn’t shown up, Andy?”
That shuts her up.
