Page 4 of Her Last Hope
She held her weapon steady as she scanned the small room, finding no one and nothing disturbed.
She shook her head, blinking. When she took on this case, she thought it was a simple missing person. A teenage girl who had run away from home, more than once, hooked on drugs and probably prostituting herself. Skyler had done all of the above the last time she’d run away. But this time? Leandra believed she’d been kidnapped.
Skyler had left her parents’ home, ten months sober and on her way to a college class where she’d been getting straight A’s. Her purse, backpack, and phone had been found in the parking lot of the community college.
Worse, none of her old friends from her days on the streets had heard from her, much less seen her.
Leandra turned toward the mirror and gasped as a tall, well-built man dressed in black lunged from thelinen closet. She twisted, shifting her gun, but he managed to grab hold of her wrist with a firm grip. His other arm wrapped tightly around her body, hauling her back tight to his chest.
“Be quiet,” he whispered. His blue eyes held her gaze in the mirror. His chiseled features sent a shiver down her spine. But it was the way the corner of his lips tipped upward that made her pause. She should think him menacing, but that smile made him look as if he were hitting on her from across a crowded bar.
With her free arm, she jabbed him in the gut with her elbow. He groaned, but his rock-hard stomach didn’t flinch. As she prepared to nail him again, he yanked her arm down, smashing it against the counter, sending her weapon spinning across the top, knocking over the soap dispenser.
“Fuck,” she muttered as he covered her mouth with his hand.
“Shhhhhh.” He smiled at her in the mirror. “We don’t want Ramos knowing I’m here.”
She narrowed her eyes into tiny slits and dug her heel into his foot.
Grunting, he pushed her against the sink, bending her slightly at the waist, pinning her. “Stop fighting me,” he whispered. “I don’t want to have to hurt you.”
Taking in a deep breath, she let her body relax a little into his while two things came to mind: How the fuck did he get in that linen closet with his size, and no way would she stop fighting.
“I was sent to help you.”
By who? she wondered, because none of her contacts had gotten back to her, and they wouldn’t send someone without warning. Her heart pounded. She told herself it was fear, but it wasn’t, not completely. She laced her fingers around his powerful forearm, feeling his muscles flex against her touch. She tugged.
“I’ll uncover your mouth if you agree to follow my directions explicitly.”
She shook her head again. Following someone else’s instructions had never been her strong suit.
He arched a brow.
Reaching up, she tried to pry his hand from her mouth. His long, thick fingers twisted, holding her hand as steady as his blue eyes held her in a captivating stare.
She should be trying to get away.
But she found herself wondering what it might be like to have this man kiss her lips, a thought she hadn’t had since the first time she’d met her late husband. However, it gave her an idea.
She wiggled her ass against him in just the right spot, flirting as best she could with her seductive gaze. His eyes widened as the pressure increased against her butt. Then he smiled and pushed harder.
“You really want to play that game?”
The sexy man holding her tight pulled out a Smith and Wesson Magnum .500. Impressive weapon to match an impressive man. She swallowed.
“Are you going to be quiet?” he asked.
She let out a long breath and rolled her eyes. Not the smartest thing to do in a situation like this, but she’d been around enough bad guys to know this man was a badass, but not a criminal. The way he stood and held his gun gave away his military training, and she could spot a military man a mile away. Then again, there were some good military men who turned to the other side.
But the man in mirror? He held her firmly, but not with too much force. Even in this position, pinned to the counter, his touch was more gentle than hurtful.
Leandra had good instincts, and she trusted her gut. Whoever this man was, he wasn’t there to cause her harm.
He cracked a smile as he slowly uncovered her mouth.
“Who the hell are you?” she whispered, trying to break free from his grasp. “And more importantly, who do you work for?” While her gut was almost never wrong, there was still a chance her captor worked for Ramos in some capacity.
“Who I am is irrelevant. Your father hired me to save you.”
