Page 40 of Trapped With the Secret Agent

The coast is clear? She stared after his shadowy form in amazed frustration. Yep, that was definitely it. He’d lost his marbles. She was stuck, running for her life, with a nut. And as soon as they were safe, she was going to tell him what she thought of him. Well, maybe not the part about how much she liked looking at his butt or how good his arms felt around her. She’d tell him how much she hated playing war games. But first they had to get out this horrible burned-out room.

He came back, making no sound on the littered floor.

“There’s no one around. Let’s go.”

She took his proffered hand and hurried after him. A quick look and they were almost running down the street. She held onto Peter with one hand, and her long black robe with the flashlight and water bottle nestled in its folds with the other, praying she wouldn’t trip.

They reached the end of the street and stopped in the shelter of the last building on the block to scan the area for any movement. Nothing. They ran across the intersection and down another street. The flashlight fell out of her chador, clattering and rolling away into the gutter. She tried to stop and pick it up, but Peter shook his head and kept going, pulling her along with him. Another street. They kept up a loping pace long after Georgia would have slowed down if she’d been alone.

The low rumble of trucks and tanks moving surrounded them. The occasional gunshot splitting the air startled her every time one went off.

She’d be lucky to have any nerves left by the time they reached the military base.

Ifthey reached the military base.

Peter paused at the end of the street they were on. Hiding behind the crumbling wall of what used to be a restaurant, he stuck his head out to check for activity and immediately pulled it back.

Someone had to be there.

Still in a crouch, he pulled her away from the wall and pushed her toward the front door of the building with an urgency that set her heart pounding too hard and fast, but the door was locked. She tugged, but it wouldn’t open.

Despite breathing hard enough to drown out the rapid drum of her pulse, Georgia could hear the footsteps now, coming closer.

She ran for the back of the structure, but that door was locked, too.

Terrified, and certain they were both going to die, she discovered she couldn’t move at all. There was no where to go.

The footsteps got louder. In just a couple of seconds, whoever was coming would see them.

She wished they were back in that stupid closet again, so she could kiss him until they were both drunk.

She lifted a hand to touch him, but Peter pushed her to the ground. He spun away and positioned himself in the shadows behind a sagging crate just as an armed soldier came into sight.

Peter was going to attack an armed soldier, with no weapon of his own.

The man paused, looking around before spotting her huddled near the side of the building. He lifted his rifle and pointed it in her direction. She could see him take in a deep breath, whether it was to question her or to call out, she didn’t know, but whatever he’d been about to say never left his throat.

Peter sprang at him from the side, one hand pushing the rifle down and away while the other punched the soldier’s throat. Georgia heard a sickening crunch and gurgle. The soldier collapsed at Peter’s feet, dropping his weapon to claw at his neck.

Peter ran his hands over the thrashing man. Searching. His fingers dipped into the soldier’s pockets, then he straightened, picked up the rifle, stepped over the man and grabbed Georgia by the hand, towing her after him.

She resisted, staring over her shoulder at the dying man in disbelief. A shocked whimper escaping her lips.

Oh God.Oh my God.

“Shhh,” Peter whispered, stopping and bringing her head close to his face. Terrified by what she just witnessed, she tried to jerk out of his grasp, but he held onto her easily.

“Don’t panic,” he said soundlessly into her ear. “This area is crawling with soldiers. Keep quiet, stay with me, and we’ll be ok.”

Behind them, the soldier still moved, the sound of his heels battering the ground in a grim death knell.

Georgia almost started laughing.

Don’t panic? Was he insane? She’d just watched him deal a lethal blow to an armed soldier with hisbare hands.

She stomped the hysteria down. One of those hands was on her neck now, his thumb rubbing soothingly through the fabric of her chador across the skin at the base of her skull. The feeling sent a shiver down her back. How could he ruthlessly commit murder one moment and be so gentle with her the next?

Nothing about this man made any sense. The first chance she got she was going to ask a few questions. But she had to be alive to ask those questions, and Peter was the only thing standing between her and getting shot.

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