“I’m hanging up now.” Janie checked her mirrors before pulling away from the curb.
“You know I love you, right?”
“I know.” She smiled. “And I love you, too.”
Minutes later, she was pulling into the parking garage at her hotel. Like the night before, she purposely chose a spot as close to the illuminated elevators as possible. As she cut the engine and unbuckled her seatbelt, her phone began to ring.
With her doors still locked, Janie retrieved the device from the cup holder, where she’d left it for the drive. Her heart kicked a smidge harder when she noticed the caller’s name.
“Hello?”
“It’s Emmett. Is this a good time?”
“Of course. What’s up?”
“Have you had dinner?”
The unexpected question left Janie’s pulse quickening with surprise. Was he really asking what it sounded like he was asking? It couldn’t be. Surely she was mistaken.
One way to find out.
“Do you mean . . . Are you asking me to dinner?”
A deep cough and a feminine giggle reached her ears half-a-second before Emmett’s rushed apology. “Sorry,” he rumbled. “I should have been clearer. I’m in the car with Blake and Gwen. We just picked up some pizzas from a place that’s not far from your hotel. Gwen had the idea that we could bring the food there and discuss a possible lead Blake found while we eat. But if that doesn’t work for you?—”
“Pizza sounds great, actually,” Janie interrupted a bit more enthusiastically than intended.
Right on cue, her stomach began to growl, and she prayed Emmett and his teammates hadn’t heard the unpleasant sound. Thankfully no one mentioned it or the utterly mortifying assumption she’d made regarding Emmett’s presumed dinner invitation.
“Perfect.” His deep voice made its presence known once again. “We’re about six minutes out.”
“Okay. Do you guys just want to come up to my room? The suite has plenty of space for us all to sit and eat, and we’d be able to talk more freely than in the hotel lobby or bar.”
“Sounds good,” he agreed. “We’ll be there shortly.”
“See you then.”
Janie ended the call, got out of her car, slid her phone into her back pocket, and hit the button to lock the doors. A short ride later, followed by a long walk down her floor’s narrow hall, and she was back inside her room.
She didn’t bother with the lights, instead using the bit of sunlight filtering into the generous space through the windows’ sheer, white curtains to see as she made a purposeful—and hurried—trip to the en suite bathroom.
Less than a minute later, with her bladder empty and her hands thoroughly washed, Janie re-did her ponytail and quickly touched up her face. A quick spritz of body spray topped off her feeling of being more refreshed, and a quick glance in the mirror later, she flipped of the bathroom lights and left the room.
Janie was two feet from the opened doorway leading from the bedroom to the suite’s spacious living room when a gloved hand appeared out of nowhere, and someone grabbed her from behind.
What the . . . No!
On reflex, she began frantically clawing in an attempt to pull the hand away from her mouth. But the man holding her refused to relent.
Use your feet!
She continued in her efforts to get her mouth free while kicking back with one of her booted heels with as much force as she could muster. The man grunted in pain, and she would have smiled if not for the hand covering her lips in a painful grip.
Janie’s horrified gaze scanned her immediate area for something—anything—that could help her get free. At first, she saw nothing, but like a person missing the forest for the proverbial trees, it was the wall directly in front of her—the one directly to the left of her bedroom doorway—that might possibly be her best chance of escape.
Please, God, let this work!
With the man holding her backside against his front, she lifted the sole of her boot and pressed it against the wall. Janie’s animalistic growl was muffled as she shoved herself backward as hard as she could. The unexpected move took her attacker off guard, and they tumbled to the floor together.
