Page 14 of Elusive Promise

She grabbed at her attacker's arms, kicking her feet, trying to find leverage, but she was losing air. Her brain was spinning. Lights were flashing before her eyes.

And then a man charged into the room.

He grabbed her assailant by the arms, pulling him off her.

She sank to the floor, gasping for breath as her rescuer went after her attacker with deft, trained moves. While they were fighting, she crawled across the floor and grabbed the gun her attacker had discarded. As she stood up and took aim, her attacker bolted out of the room.

Her rescuer turned his face into the light that was coming from the living room, and she gasped.

"You?" It was the mysterious stranger with the compelling green eyes. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Saving your life—again."

She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. "It's five o'clock in the morning."

"I was going to wait until the sun came up to speak to you, but when I saw that guy go into the building, I had a bad feeling. My instincts were correct."

She didn't know about his instincts, but hers were screaming caution. "How did you find me? How did you get in here? Where's the guard that was downstairs?"

"He's by the front door—unconscious. I'll answer all your questions, but right now, we need to go." He didn't look at all concerned by the gun in her hand. "Someone just tried to kill you."

"I'm aware of that. Is the guard dead?" Her stomach turned over at the thought of that man being killed because of her.

"He's still breathing."

"Good. We need to get him help."

"You can call from somewhere else. Put on some shoes, grab what you need—"

"I'm not taking orders from you," she interrupted.

"I saved your life twice. Doesn't that offer some sort of trust?"

"No. And I was perfectly capable of saving my own life."

He gave her a speculative look. "You sound pretty confident—for a translator who works for the state department."

He knew who she was, and she had no idea who he was. That put her at a disadvantage, and she didn't like it. "I've taken a lot of self-defense classes. How do you know what I do?"

"I know a lot of things. And I want to talk to you, Parisa. But we need to get out of here before your assailant comes back with some friends."

She wanted to argue, but he made a good point, although how he'd found her at an FBI safe house raised a lot of red flags. Maybe he was undercover for some other agency. Judging by his combat skills, he'd been trained somewhere.

"What's your name?" she asked, as she put on her sneakers and threw her long, wool coat over her leggings and T-shirt.

"Jared."

It might be a bad decision but going with him seemed less risky than staying put. She threw the attacker's gun into her suitcase and then tucked her own gun into the waistband of her leggings. Jared grabbed her bag, and she followed him down the stairs.

She stopped by the door to check on the guard. He was lying face down, with a big bump on the back of his head, but he had a pulse and was breathing, with no evidence of massive blood loss. She'd call Damon as soon as they got out of the building.

Jared went out the front door first, motioning her to hang back for a moment. Then he said, "It's clear. My car is nearby. Let's go."

She didn't want to hop into his car, but there were no taxis around and she couldn't wait to get a ride. Hoping she wasn't making a huge mistake, she got into the silver Ford Focus, while he put her bag in the trunk and then slid behind the wheel.

"Don't worry, you're going to be fine," he said as he started the engine. "And you do have a gun, so…"

"So, don't mess with me," she finished, pulling it out from under her coat.

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