Page 28 of Trapped With the Secret Agent

“Falling down?” Georgia’s voice rose, quivering.

Wrong thing to say.

“Yeah, it’s great the way they uh...did that. Don’t you think?”

She turned to gaze at him, and he wondered if she’d finally had enough and snapped. She blinked and took a deep breath, as if regrouping.

“To be honest, it doesn’t inspire a whole lot of confidence in me regarding its structural integrity,” she said in almost her usual tone.

“Hey, I thought you were supposed to act like a cheerleader now. Where’s your rah-rah-rah?”

He wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d had a little breakdown, let herself freak out for a few minutes. She wasn’t used to this kind of crap. But here she was, pulling herself together for the umpteenth time. He had to admire that.

She gave him a small smile, just the barest upturn of her lips. As if to say, “I’m sorry if I backslide once in a while, but I’m ok now.” She was tough. Tougher than most people he knew, and he liked that about her. Too much. He shouldn’t like her at all. He shouldn’t want to kiss her. That kiss he’d given her before wasn’t enough. Those lips had felt soft, tasted sweet, and he wanted more.

“I’m going to check it out,” he said, pulling his thoughts away from the woman next to him. Damn, she was dangerous.

“But—” Georgia reached out one hand as if to restrain him, and he quickly moved out of reach.

“There’s no time to waste,” he said as he swung one leg over the jagged lip. “There’s enough light from the room to see what’s what for a few feet.” He ducked his head and disappeared into the dark.

Peter paused for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dimness then looked around. The tunnel ran straight for a while, but he thought he could see a turn in the distance. It was empty. A few rocks and other bits of the walls and ceiling littered the floor, but otherwise the tunnel seemed in good condition. It didn’t look like it got a lot of traffic.

He took a step back and knocked something with his feet. A flashlight. He picked it up and switched it on, shining the beam on the floor. There were three more laying right next to the entrance into the wine cellar.

“Did you find a light?” Georgia’s voice sounded ridiculously relieved.

“Yup. There are a bunch of them stashed in here.”

Georgia put one hand on her chest. “Oh, thank goodness.”

“Here.” Peter handed her one. “Turn off the lights and let’s get moving.”

She nodded and hurried over to the door. Peter watched her flashlight beam bounce back. He grabbed her by the arm and helped steady her as she got her leg over the rim. She had to push her skirt up, so she could lift her leg that high and he got an eyeful of smooth thigh as she climbed into the tunnel.

He pulled the hidden door shut.

Georgia shined her light on it as it closed. The locking mechanism was a simple one, really. One lever opened it from the inside, but it took four separate levers from the other side. Cute, very cute.

Peter shone his flashlight down the dark tunnel. “Let’s go.”

***

Georgia stared at therock walls, momentarily fascinated by a section of mosaic that looked as if it had been painted yesterday. “This is very old.” The tunnel was high enough for Georgia to stand up in, but Peter had to bend over slightly. She wrinkled her nose and staved off a sneeze. The air was staler than old unsalted crackers long since reduced to crumbs. “Tell me again how you knew about this?”

“The ambassador told me about it this morning over coffee. He thought the whole secret escape tunnel thing was overkill. Why would anyone ever need it?” He shook his head. “Now look at us.”

Peter held one of the flashlights they’d found at the entrance of the tunnel ahead of him, illuminating the long, dark passage. The chiseled walls were uneven, as if the builders hadn’t finished. A thick layer of dust clung to every surface.

Georgia rubbed a hand on her skirt. “Do you think he’s ok?” Should they have stayed? She felt like she was running away and didn’t like it. Not one bit.

“He lost a lot of blood.” Peter glanced at her, his face shrouded in shadows, but she could still see the worry on his face. “We should hurry.”

She stopped walking. “Maybe I should go back. I mean, we’re not going to be in the storage room when they come for us. They might shoot another hostage, or even my uncle, when they realize we’ve escaped.”

Peter turned and looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “And if they find only you in the storage room, what do you think they’ll do. Ask nicely where I went?” He moved toward her, pointing the flashlight at the floor, casting most of his body into shadow. She couldn’t see his expression anymore, but he sounded frustrated, almost angry.

“No. They’ll torture and rape you, and when you’ve told them where I went and how I got out, they’ll shoot you if you’re lucky. If not, they’ll leave you alive to die on your own.” He grabbed her shoulder with his free hand. “Does that sound like fun?”

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