Operation: Husband by Barbara Bretton

Author:Barbara Bretton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin

* * *

TRASK KISSED HER for the second time that night.

Her warm, full mouth was as sweet as he remembered. Too bad she was trying to scream the house down with it.

“You don’t want them to find you,” he murmured against her lips.

She twisted in his arms, threw back her head, then opened her mouth wide to let out another howl.

He liked to think he was as tough and heartless as they came, but dying had done something to him, softened him in ways he still didn’t understand. He hated the look of fear behind her anger, didn’t want to be the reason for it.

“Come on,” he said, untying her wrists. “Let’s get out while we still can.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

He grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to meet his eyes. “Those guys out there aren’t your friends, and they sure as hell aren’t mine. They’re out to get me, and they’d like to get your father, too, and if they have to kill you to do it, then those are the breaks. Now let’s move it.”

“I’ll take my chances here.”

“This isn’t a multiple-choice quiz. You’re coming with me.”

He grabbed her wrist. The rest of her body followed along with it.

“Get down,” he ordered, ducking below the countertop. “Stay out of sight.”

“Why should I—”

The window shattered in an explosion of glass. She hit the ground, visions of a SWAT team dancing in her head.

“Stay flat.” His tone brooked no argument.

“Don’t worry.” She had no desire to have her hair reparted by a semiautomatic. “Who are you? Why are they after you?”

“The less you know about it, the easier it’ll go for you.”

“You’re scaring me.”

He shot her a sideways glance. “Good. If you’re scared, you might make it.”

A second bullet whizzed overhead, piercing the spice cabinet over the stove. The smell of gunpowder and garlic salt was memorable.

“If we’re going to die together on my kitchen floor, the least you can do is tell me what’s going on.”

“I have something they want.”

“And they’re willing to kill you for it?”

He nodded. “And they’re willing to kill you. If they have to.”

“This doesn’t make any sense.”

He flattened himself out like a limbo dancer, pushing away shards of glass from broken spice bottles. “It doesn’t have to. Just do what I tell you, and you’ll get out of this alive.”

“Getting out of here alive wasn’t a problem until you showed up.” Five minutes ago, the only thing she’d wanted to get out of was this darned spangled dress.

“Is there another way out?”

She pointed toward an archway at the rear of the kitchen. “The mudroom opens onto the side yard.”

They inched their way across the floor like garden snakes. He was considerably better at it than she was, a fact that annoyed her out of all proportion.

He stopped slithering at the mudroom. “What’s this?”

“That’s Sly’s door.”

“Who’s Sly?”

“My cat.” Actually, he belonged to Carlota, the housekeeper, but he’d decided to live in both houses.

“You could drive a semi through that flap.”

“Sly has a bit of a weight problem.

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