Something inside her clicked.
She was a prime-time target. Wasting time.
She regrouped and moved to get dressed. The bikini would have to do as undies, so she grabbed a pair of shorts from the pile of clothing on the bed and pulled them on. Then tossed on one of the darker color T-shirts. “Ready.”
“Shoes? Tie-on. Something you can run in.” Mitch didn’t even glance in her direction.
Shoes. Of course, she needed shoes. She spied a pair of tennis shoes under a chair, slipped them on, and double tied them tight. Maybe this was all a drill. She hoped so, because her heart was racing like an amplified bass beat at a dance club.
Mitch turned and pulled her close beside him. “You don’t leave my side. Got it?”
She nodded. “Is this real?”
“Damn real. Stay behind me. Move when I move.” He headed to the doorway as Keith ran toward the other side of the house.
“Are we going in the panic room?”
“No. We’ve got to get the hell out of here.”
“Wouldn’t that be the safest place?”
“CT personnel carry explosives. They’ll blow it wide open if they have to.” He paused for a moment, tilting his head as if to listen. “I would.”
Outside, gunshots rang out. Some silenced and blunt-sounding with their thuds. Some not. The shots were close. Closer than she could imagine.
Another wet-suit-clad man as tall and broad and muscled as Mitch appeared at the end of the hall and stopped them with a raised hand. His eyes narrowed as he focused the gun in his other hand on them. Provoked or not, he appeared ready to shoot.
Mitch whirled, taking her to the floor beneath him, and covered her with his body. She realized he’d put himself between her and a surefire bullet.
“Incoming!” Cat yelled.
Glass shattering back in the bedroom was all it took for the man at the end of the hall to come running in their direction. Gun arm straight and pointed. His focus intense and deadly.
“Stay down.” Mitch pointed his gun at the oncoming man then shielded her even more with the brace of his arm in front of her face.
“I’ve got them!” the man shouted. “I’ve got them.”
Gunfire erupted. Grunts and screams echoed through the air. Then, quiet. Only quiet.
Mitch hadn’t moved since the first gunshot.
Chapter Five
Gunshots had stopped. Yelling had stopped. Pounding footsteps had stopped.
Still, Mitch didn’t flinch one muscle. He continued to pace his breaths, in and out, in and out. Slow and shallow to a point a casual glance wouldn’t pick up any sign of life. Appearing dead to the enemy was a learned skill. One he’d mastered.
At least he had Liz tucked nice and neat beneath him. All he had to do was wait for the all clear.
A tiny, breathy grunt from Liz reminded him to stay braced on one of his forearms and knees. His other hand kept a tight grip on his gun. He needed to be close enough to shield her, but he also had to give her space to breathe. There was a fine line between tricking the enemy and squashing the client.
Time was wasting.
What was taking so long for the all clear from one of his team members?
She sighed, turning her head enough that her coconut-scented hair tickled his neck. Not what he needed.
The image of her in the green bikini flashed through his mind. Quite a change from the jeans and loafers look she’d worn when he picked her up. Who knew she had curves? Nice curves, to boot. Ones that filled out the swimsuit in all the right places. Tight abs. Toned arms. Long legs.
