Page 59 of Thorn

Thorn could hear thezipof tape being pulled from a roll. Her hand came back through the door crack to loop a rubber band on the door chain. Slowly, she worked the loop up to where the ball caught.

Thorn thought how it would freak her out if he were to reach out and assist. It would freak her out even more if he were to grab her hand. Of course, were he to do that, she might not be a law-abiding operative, like he was. She might shoot through the door first and ask questions later. He guessed that would depend on what kind of bullets were in her gun and how much she wanted to make sure that Juliette stayed safe from ricochets.

With the rubber band in place, the woman stretched her hand up the door at an angle. Thorn could see that she was a power lifter and had significant muscle strength. If that was paired with some combat hand-to-hand training, this just might get interesting. Thorn would have to make sure it stayed outside of Juliette’s room.

The woman pressed the tape into the door and shut the door.

Thorn ripped the tape away.

The door opened, the chain held.

“Shit,” the woman said. She pressed the tape again. She shut the door again.

Again, Thorn pulled the tape down.

She opened the door and the chain stayed in place.

“For fuck sake,” she growled.

Apparently, this woman liked her swear words to be English.

This time when she tore off the tape it was over a foot long.

Thorn decided that he’d stirred that pot enough. He’d let her get the door open this time. Other than that, she just might get ticked off enough and kick it in.

The door shut.

As the door opened, the chain ran back across it’s catch slide and released. The chain swung down and banged the door. Thorn listened as she chuckled victory. She had been focused on the chain game and wasn’t primed for a confrontation.Another note to self. Don’t do that. Ever.

The door swung slowly open. “Juliette?”

And before she could put a foot in the room, Thorn swung around the door caught the woman’s wrist and had her headed for the floor in an arm bar. The woman shifted her weight and rolled, untwisting her arm. Forcing him to a crouch to keep hold. Her feet flung up and crossed at the ankles in front of his throat. She squeezed her feet in, right at his carotid, which was the way that he’d made the janitor go to sleep at the airport.

His senses lit up with the danger of the situation.

He had some of his own moves.Deploying them now would be good,he thought as the woman suddenly pushed with the hand that he’d trapped and tugged with her feet.

Thorn went sprawling forward. And as he did so, he released her hand and grabbed her boot. He landed and gave her foot a vicious twist that rolled her to her stomach. With his toes tucked under, he pushed out and dove over the top of her, trapping her with his weight.

She reached down and pressed her knuckle into a nerve bundle.

“Brigitte, stop,” he hissed. “It’s Thorn.”

She stilled.

“Thorn?” She twisted around, and he let her up. Brigitte pushed the hat from her head. “How did you know it was me?”

“I recognized your boots from the airport.” He stood and reached a hand down to help her up.

She batted it away. “Not bad, that last move.”

“Yoga.” Thorn shrugged. “It keeps me limber.”

Brigitte slid her body up against his and smiled up at him. “You’ll have to show it to me again later, when we’re alone, and maybe not in the middle of a hotel hallway.”

Thorn stepped to the side, so they weren’t touching. “What brings you here?” he asked as he followed her into Juliette’s room.

“Like you,” she whispered, now using English in that warm sexy accent of hers, with her cat and milk smile, “I’m trying to secure Juliette and keep her out of the wrong hands.”

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