Damn. The idiot, who ten minutes ago had wanted to buy her, and possibly her potentially award-winning photographs, filled the doorway, pointing a gun. Judging by the snarl on his face, Mia bet the very expensive shoes she’d left in Barney’s room, the creep meant to use it. What else could she do? Mia covered her head with her hands and screamed. Her shriek filled the hallway, but before she got it together to run, a massive body crashed into her.
“Get down,” a deep voice bellowed.
The man in the doorway dived straight for her then sprinted in the opposite direction. Bent double, struggling to stay upright, she turned to face the person grasping her elbow. “Lipstick Man?”
“Red? Guess there’s somewhere we’d both prefer to be.” He grunted.
Sexy, if he didn’t seem furious. And she must be in shock because those brown eyes were…
“Trouble. Need back-up, now,” he grumbled.
“Perfect. Fucking perfect.” The voice came from Lipstick Man’s ear.
Oh. Headset thingamabob. She had seen that movie.
“Heading for the main elevators. Perpetrator gone. No sign of Barney. Over.”
But someone spoke too soon. Shots burst into the corridor. A mirror crashed to the floor, hurling splinters of glass everywhere. Mia winced at the sudden, sharp burn striking her lower leg.
“Move,” Lipstick Man urged. With one hand, he swept her behind him, shielding her with his body, as they backed toward the elevator. “Inside.”
Mia didn’t care why the now armed-to-the-teeth waiter had followed them out of the ballroom. He had pointed his gun at the man trying to kill her, which had to make him a good guy.
The steel doors closed, and she sighed with relief, unprepared for the damn elevator to shake, groan and stop moving. The sudden jolt hurtled her from Lipstick Man’s grip into the wall. Now that hurt. He moved like freaking lightning back beside her, lifting her chin so she had no option but to sink into the depths of his gorgeous eyes.
“Look at me. You okay? How many fingers?” he said.
“Don’t do that.” She slapped the digits flapping in front of her face. “I’m sorry, but can you stop with the dancing fingers? I want to hurl.” She gave his chest a gentle push, which didn’t budge, as she struggled to ignore the comforting rush of the firm hands brushing over her arms and hips.
“Easy, Red. I’m checking for injuries.”
“Yeah, well, give me a sec and let me catch my breath.” The nausea made its way to the back of her throat. Before she threw up and embarrassed herself, Mia scrambled to her feet and rapped her knuckles on the metal door. “Hey. Anybody there? We’re stuck.” Her voice sounded a million miles away.
Lipstick Man pointed at the gash on the side of her calf. “At the risk of getting my head bitten off, your leg is bleeding. You need to sit down.”
She didn’t argue and slid to the floor. The lights flickered before everything turned pitch black. Mia’s heart pounded in her chest. Panic didn’t help, but her nervous system struggled to hear the message. She snatched at where she last saw Lipstick Man’s hand and relaxed only when his strong fingers intertwined with hers. Keeping a firm hold, she tugged until he had no option but to come down beside her. The warmth of his breath flooded the space between them. Steady, calm.
Her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, so she went searching for his face. One big question hammered in her head. Why had Lipstick Man been in the corridor when the shooting started?
Okay, more than one. She wasn’t even going to entertain the idea he might be one of Barney’s gang. Although he certainly looked the part. Built like a smoldering volcano, with a scary scar that stretched from the corner of his right eye and curled under his chin.
“Snake, come in.” Edged with concern, his deep voice rumbled around the small space. “We’re in the elevator. It’s stuck. Outside, one shooter, maybe more. Woman with me, injured, requires an ambulance. Copy.”
“Copy. Stay put.”
Lipstick Man rolled his eyes. It wasn’t as though they had a lot of choice. They couldn’t just walk out of there, and that was a fact that made Mia’s head spin, her vision blur.
“Hey. You with me?” His hand returned, waving in front of her face. “Hand on heart, Red. I am not the enemy. You can trust me.”
Yeah, that was easier to say than do. Mia let go of his hand and shuffled her bum closer to the wall. She checked her bag and was relieved she still had Barney’s papers tucked against the side of her body. “Stay where I can see you.”
“Good luck with that. In case you hadn’t noticed, the lights are out.” He chuckled.
Mia sniffed, not sure whether to punch him or laugh hysterically.
“Sorry, my bad. Please don’t cry. You’re safe. I’m Havoc, Ben. What’s your name?” Havoc knelt beside her.
“Mia, and I’m not scared.” Her voice trembled. Havoc. Dumb name. As if Lipstick Man sounds any better?
“Good. Glad that’s clear. You’re not scared and I’m fucking terrified. Now, your leg?” he ordered, a smile sneaking over his lips.
“Lucky me. A waiter with a flashlight.” Mia didn’t have a clue where he got it from, but she didn’t have a mind to complain. The bright light circled the wound, and instead of hurling at the sight of blood, she found it hard to keep her eyes open. No one would ever give her a medal for bravery, but she expected more from herself.
Opening her eyes wide, Mia focused on the path of Havoc’s fingers, investigating the angry-looking gash. When blood dripped onto his hand, her breath caught in her throat.
“Stay with me, Red. Listen to me. It’s not serious.”
Mia raised an eyebrow. Okay, for him to say, his leg didn’t look like chopped hamburger.
“Sorry. I know it hurts, but no amputation. Pinkie swear. You good?” He winked.
For a man, he had long eyelashes. Mia hooked Havoc’s small finger with her own and ate up every millisecond of his growing smile. The skin puckered around where the opposite dimple must have been, and she wanted to kiss him, until her breath ran from her again.
“Easy, Mia. Breathe with me. In, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four. Again. That’s it.”
“Sorry, I… I’m not usually this useless,” she stuttered, swiping her hand over her bloodstained dress.
“I get it. Can’t say being incarcerated thrills me, either.”
She tried not to laugh. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of being stuck in an elevator?”
He grinned. “Believe it.”
His fingertips probed deeper, and she winced. “Sorry.”
“No need. Like I said, not too bad. Looks worse than it is. No bullet in there.” With one hand, he ripped the sleeve from his shirt and bandaged her leg. “Like I said, you’ll keep the leg, but you’ll need a few stitches.”
Havoc brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. He was doing his best to cheer her up and she must look like the biggest train wreck, not that she overly cared much about her appearance. Like her make-up, she applied the KISS principle, even if she didn’t quite achieve dressed-down chic. Maybe she was vain because scars on her legs didn’t thrill her.
The glow from Havoc’s flashlight swept across her vision, catching the jagged edge of his facial scar along the way. Far from being unattractive, it added interest to his rugged profile. When he caught her staring, part of her wanted to apologise. Or palm his cheek and finally get down to that kiss. Mia! She cleared her throat. “How long before the hotel realizes we’re stuck and sends help?”
“Not sure. It’s the weekend, but don’t worry, my team is on the way. Lean back, close your eyes, and try to rest. For now, we are out of the bad guy’s line of fire.”