Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
“No!” Simone screamed. Then she darted to the side. “Stop it!” She waved her hands, frantic. “Don’t shoot him!”
“Simone,” Ryan roared her name with true fury.
Whatever. He could be furious, and he could also be alive.
The shooter’s attention was on her. His gaze on her. His weapon—yep, on her, too. Simone licked her lips. “I’m the target, right? No sense wasting bullets on him. You literally said you weren’t even here for him.”
“Don’t want to shoot him.” A nod from the shooter. “This isn’t personal, lady. Promise.” A nod. “Maybe close your eyes? And it will be over quickly.”
The gun was shaking. The shooter was drawing in a deep breath. And Ryan was—
Shooting. At the jerk with the gun.
She didn’t even know where Ryan had gotten his gun.
One minute, his hands were empty, and in the next—bam.
The echo of gunfire reverberated around her.
The man in the hotel uniform staggered back when the bullet Ryan had fired tore into him.
Ryan rushed at their wounded attacker. The two men collided, slammed back, and, oh, no. No, no, no.
They went beneath the ladder.
Ryan would not be a happy man.
They’d gone beneath the ladder, ensuring that Ryan would have a significant amount of bad luck, and the ladder crashed down on top of the struggling figures.
Ryan shoved the ladder away and somehow managed to kick the creep’s gun out of the guy’s reach at the same time.
Simone used that moment to surge forward herself.
She grabbed the discarded weapon and held it tightly, aware that her heart was about to jump out of her chest. “That was fabulous!” she praised Ryan.
“Where in the world did you get your gun?” She hadn’t seen one on him, but in a blink, it had been in his hand, and he’d been firing.
Ryan currently had his weapon pointed at the forehead of the fallen attacker. “It was strapped to my fucking ankle.”
Her gaze flew over him. “Oh.” Well, he’d certainly moved quickly. She hadn’t even seen him grab it. Her stare returned to Ryan’s face. “Good thing I created a distraction, huh? I gave you the chance to draw your weapon. Talk about some phenomenal teamwork.”
A savage growl. “Do not.” Ryan’s head turned toward her even as he kept his gun muzzle pointed on the downed man. “Do not talk to me about teamwork. I warned you about taking risks.”
“Someone is ungrateful.” Extremely so. “I saved your life! You know what…I get it.” A jerking nod. “You’re upset about the ladder and the incoming back luck that you’ll have. It’s all right. We’ll deal with it.”
“You are my bad luck,” Ryan snapped.
She sucked in a breath. Those snapped words of his hurt. “You try to save someone. You try to help…” And you’re called bad luck. He might as well have said she was trouble.
Then again, she was trouble. Trouble and a CIA operative were not meant to be together.
She surveyed the scene. Ryan was safe. He had things under control.
The gunman was practically sobbing as his shoulder bled profusely, and Ryan’s gun remained shoved toward the jerk’s head.
Time for her to get back to her real life.
The perfect opportunity was right in front of her. “Forget this. I’m done.”
She was done because…this was her chance.
“See you around, Ryan.”
Still clutching the gun she’d snagged, Simone bounded to the right, intent on rushing out of the Arch and into the rain and into the safety of the night.
Except…
Harry appeared.
Damn Harry. Why did the MI6 agent have to show up at that exact moment?
He bolted out of the rain, soaking wet, and he appeared straight in her path. She did have a gun. She could shoot him. An option. But not really one she wanted to take. Truth be told, she didn’t exactly love shooting the good guys. Or, anyone for that matter.
“Going somewhere?” Harry asked her, and he didn’t look quite as green and fresh faced as he’d seemed before.
She sent him her most innocent smile. “Hurray!” Which sounded a lot like Harry. “Help has arrived!” Simone darted a glance over her shoulder and found Ryan glaring at her and still holding his gun on the moaning-in-pain man. “Look, Ryan, the cavalry is here to help.”
“Simone…” Ryan’s gritted rumble. “Your ass is mine.”
Oh, that sounded both very promising and a little bit frightening. And, unable to help herself, she threw back, “Good luck with that.” Because by the time dawn arrived, she intended to be far, far away from the spy who was breaking her heart bit by bit.
The watcher counted at least five individuals who swarmed from the darkness and rushed toward the Arch. He’d been preparing to storm forward, but the others had beaten him.
Now he waited in the shadows, the rain falling steadily, as he tried to see his target. Time ticked past far too slowly. Come on. Come on…
And there she was. Stumbling out in a wet blouse, with a hulking figure by her side. A figure who had a coat positioned over her head. How very chivalrous.
His eyes narrowed. He could partially make out the man’s face. A face that was familiar to him. He’d expected to encounter strangers but…surely…not…
He backed up.
Fucking hell. I know that face. I know that dangerous sonofabitch.
Simone’s chivalrous protector was a lying, killing spy.
What have you gotten yourself into this time, Simone? And how was he going to reach her?
Simone was being rushed back to the hotel by the spy. Another man was trailing behind her. The watcher was very, very curious about the scene that might have been left in the Arch. He was pretty sure a slumped figure had been shot. Killed or just injured? Did it even matter?
Simone had not been the victim. Simone still lived.
Now if he could just get her away from the spy and make her disappear completely…
“Oh, yes, fabulous idea,” Simone huffed. “Let’s go back to the hotel where not one but two staff members have clearly demonstrated their wish to have me dead. I one hundred percent feel like we are returning to the safest place in the world for me.”
Ryan stopped in front of the hotel. Two doormen froze nearby. “I’m getting you back in the suite.”
She leaned toward him. For the moment, she ignored Harry.
Sneaky Harry. He’d trailed behind them every step as they returned to the hotel.
And the way he’d just burst out of the rain to block her path…
I did not expect that. She’d have to remember he liked to lurk about.
For the record, Simone had to declare, “I think we should check in to another hotel. Clearly, this one is not working for us. I may have to leave a one star review due to the fact that staff members keep making attempts on my life.”
Ryan wrapped his wet coat around her shoulders. “We’re going inside now.”
But one of the doormen moved forward to block their path. “Sir, sir, is that a gun?”
Yes, it was. A gun tucked in the front waistband of his pants.
“Deal with him,” Ryan barked at Harry.
“Guns are not allowed!” The doorman appeared scared but still determined. “I will be phoning the authorities!”
Harry pulled the doorman close. “About that…”
Ryan hustled her into the hotel. He was double-timing it toward the elevator bank, and her stomach twisted in anticipation of that tight ride, but then Ryan stopped, right in the middle of the lobby. “Stairs,” he snapped. “We’ll take the fucking stairs.”
Aw, that was sweet. She knew he’d made the change for her.
“It’s all right. I’m better now. I can handle the…
” Her words trailed away. The light in the lobby seemed incredibly bright.
And, under that bright light, she could see the redness on his wet, white shirt.
The right sleeve. “Ryan, I think you got some of that man’s blood on you. ”
“It’s not his blood. It’s mine. From when the bastard shot me.”
“But he…” She had to pick her mouth up off the floor as she surged toward him. “He shot you? When?” She did not remember that. She distinctly remembered only hearing one blast of gunfire. That had been when Ryan fired.
“When I had you pinned against the wall and all I wanted was to fuck you into oblivion.” Snarled words. “I let my guard down and you almost got hurt. Bastard had a silencer on his weapon.”
What, what, what? “You got shot and you didn’t tell me?”
“Was kinda busy taking down the shooter. And trying to stop you from offering yourself up as a willing victim—stop doing that shit, by the way. Stop.”
He’d been shot. In the arm, yes, but his arm was inches away from his heart. “You got hurt!” She tried to grab for his shirt so she could check out the injury.
Only to find herself tossed over his shoulder. The shoulder connected to his non-injured arm. The arm that did not have a gunshot wound.
“What is happening?” Simone cried out.
“You said you could handle the elevator. I’m not risking it. I’m not having you stressed and scared, so I’ll just carry you up the stairs.” He was hurrying with her across the lobby. Moving past a stunned Charlotte.
“Hi,” Charlotte mumbled. “Having a good night?”
No, they were not. “He’s shot!” Simone didn’t want to struggle too hard because she was trying not to hurt the man any worse than he’d already been injured, but…seriously, he couldn’t carry her when he was suffering from a gunshot wound!
“A graze,” Ryan tossed back as if the wound didn’t matter at all. “Is the stairwell clear?”
“Uh, yeah.” Charlotte shoved open the stairwell door. “You know that your suite is like four flights up from here, right?”
“I can climb those flights in my sleep.”
“Good for you.” Charlotte craned her head and waved to Simone. “Have fun.”
Fun?
The stairwell door clanged shut. Simone grabbed the back of Ryan’s wet shirt and pulled hard. “Let me down now. Or I will be kicking you in the dick.” She was pretty sure that she could make the kick from this position.
“Don’t make me spank you.”
Her breath caught. “Okay, save the kink for later, and we’ll talk about spanking options.”
“Simone.”