Chapter 8 #2
Harry scrambled out to get the fucking ride moving. Ryan kept his prey, and he hurried outside on Harry’s heels. The sun beat down on him, the streaks of light slipping through the drifting clouds. Harry jumped in the front of the vehicle, and Ryan surged into the back with Simone.
Surprising no one, she tried to immediately open the door near her and jump from the vehicle. Sighing, Ryan hauled her closer. “I do not want to have to cuff you.” But she was about to give him no choice.
“Oh, please.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “You don’t even have cuffs on you.”
Granted, he did not. “Harry!”
Harry slammed on the gas. The vehicle lurched forward, taking them away from the cottage and rushing onto a stone-covered road.
“Harry, do you have cuffs on you?” Ryan demanded.
Simone glared at Ryan. “The vehicle is moving now. I’m not going to toss myself onto the road while we’re driving this fast. Not like I have a death wish.” She straightened her shoulders. “For the record, I wasn’t running before.”
“The hell you weren’t.”
“I didn’t like being shoved in a dark closet! Sue me, but I can’t stand the dark!”
Her words almost held a ring of truth, but he’d come to realize she could lie incredibly well. “Who are you?” He needed answers. He would get them.
“Simone Sailor.”
He growled.
Her head turned toward the front of the vehicle. “I’m Simone.” She cleared her throat and leaned toward the driver. Her hand reached out to touch his shoulder. “I did not catch your name.”
“Harry,” he replied. His accent had thickened, making the name sound more like “Air-ree” as the H dropped.
“Just fucking drive,” Ryan blasted at him. He caught Simone’s hand and pulled it off Harry. Did he like her touching the MI6 agent? No, he did not.
What is my deal?
“That is so rude,” Simone told him. She huffed out a breath. “I apologize, Harry, for Ryan’s tone and for his language.”
His language?
“Thank you so much for coming to our assistance,” she continued in a honey-sweet voice. “It’s been a very trying twenty-four hours for me, and I am grateful to you.”
Seriously? Seriously?
Ryan caught the straightening of Harry’s shoulders. Saw the guy adjust his rearview mirror so he could get a better view of Simone. “Simone, I will keep you safe,” Harry promised her.
The hell he would. “I’m on it,” Ryan growled. Then he grabbed the fluffy red material of her skirt and shoved it up.
Simone immediately shoved it back down, but not before he’d gotten a truly glorious view of her legs. Killer legs. Insanely attractive. Legs that he could all too easily imagine wrapped around him and holding tight.
“What in the world are you doing?” Simone cried.
Harry nearly drove them off the road.
“Focus, Harry!” Ryan snapped.
“I was,” Harry mumbled back.
Oh, the prick had better not be focusing on her legs. Ryan shifted his body, and he grabbed for the fluffy material of her skirt again.
She swatted at his hands. “This is entirely too, um, friendly of you. Stop it. Stop!”
His hand came up, holding his prize. The gleaming egg. He’d known Simone had it as soon as he’d heard the telling clink moments before. “Just retrieving my property.”
Her eyes widened. “Where on earth did that come from?”
His back teeth clenched. “It was in one of the hidden pockets of your dress.” No wonder she loved those damn pockets so much.
“That is crazy. It must have fallen into my pocket when you were lifting me over your shoulder.”
Why the hell did he have to fight a smile at her words?
Slowly, deliberately, Ryan shook his head.
“No. It did not fall into your pocket. You took it from me.” He wasn’t exactly sure when.
Perhaps when they’d been kissing? Riding the horse?
Or, hell, could have been when they’d still been in the stables.
He remembered her hands sliding over him before they’d ridden out on the stallion. “You are good.”
“Oh, I’ve got it. The egg must have fallen into my dress when we were on the horse together. Bouncing around and all that.” Her eyes were very wide. “Amazing.”
Oh, something was amazing, all right. And it’s her.
“What’s happening back there?” Harry asked.
“Keep your eyes on the road and get us to a safe location.” Ryan inhaled. He also tried to focus on his job. “Am I going to have to search you?”
Her head tilted. “Search me…for what?”
“For whatever else you’re hiding?”
“I’m afraid I have to decline your fun invitation for a search.
” A bit colder. Harder. Not nearly as semi-amused as she’d been before.
“I do have rights, you understand. Also, Mr. CIA Operative, we are not in the US. You threatened me with arrest, but I don’t recall doing anything other than saving your life again and again. ”
“Saving me?”
“Um.” She shoved the skirt completely down over her killer legs. “And seeing as how I apparently just retrieved a very important item for you, I would appreciate some gratitude.”
“That’s the story you’re going with now? That you retrieved it?” He’d bet a million dollars that Simone had been intent on stealing the egg from him.
“It’s kinda what I do.” No blinks. No hesitation. “I’m a retrieval specialist, at your service.”
“Bullshit,” he called. “You’re a thief.”
A gasp. “That’s hurtful.”
Dammit, were those tears welling in her eyes? “Don’t you dare cry.” Because he had a feeling that her tears might break something in him.
I am in trouble.
Her lower lip trembled. “Don’t you know that you should never kiss a woman and then insult her? That’s extremely poor manners.”
“Shit. Company. Incoming. Get down, get down!” Harry yelled.
There was no more room on her side of the vehicle, so Ryan immediately yanked Simone down on top of him, completely flattening her against his body as he slammed against the seat. Every single inch of her…against him.
“The windows are tinted,” she whispered.
Yes, they were.
“If this is an MI6 vehicle, I would think it would at least be bulletproof, too,” she added. Her breath blew lightly against his neck. Her head was nestled between his shoulder and his chin.
His dick could not swell anymore.
“It is bulletproof,” Harry assured her from the front. “But I just saw no point in taking chances. Got four blokes in two cars, heading fast for the little cottage.”
“Be cool, Harry,” Ryan ordered him. “Don’t speed. Stay nice and slow.”
“They’re looking hard at us. Oh, shit. I think I see a gun.”
Ryan felt Simone stiffen against him. “Nice and slow,” Ryan repeated. He began to carefully shift them so that he was on top of Simone, his body protectively curling against her. “Just keep driving. Hell, give them a friendly wave if you want. Really fuck with them.”
“What?” Harry seemed to choke.
For hell’s sake. What was this? Harry’s first mission? “Wave. And drive. Slowly. Normally.”
He didn’t know if Harry waved, but the man kept driving. Slowly. Good. No sense accelerating and looking suspicious.
The moments ticked past. Beat by beat.
Simone poked at him. “I think you can get up now.”
His head lifted, but he didn’t take his body off hers. “Better safe than sorry.”
“You are crushing me.”
He shifted his weight and rose a little. “Sorry.”
“No, I don’t think you are. Not even a small bit.” An angry retort. “But you will be. You will be very, very sorry if you don’t drop this nonsense about me being some kind of—of a thief and you arresting me. As soon as we get to a safe place, you need to let me go.”
He brought his mouth next to her ear. “That’s just not going to happen.”
She shivered beneath him. “Then it will be your funeral.”
Oh, he highly doubted that. “Did you just threaten me?”
“No. I’m warning you.” A swift inhale from Simone. “I am not a safe woman.”
Ryan couldn’t help it. He laughed because…he still had blood on him. They’d been kidnapped. He’d had to kill for her. “Sweetheart, tell me something I don’t already know.”