MIA’S STOCKINGED FEET were numb with cold, but impending frostbite was the least of her problems. She cast a worried glance to her right where she could hear, but not see, Jack beside her. His breathing was labored. His footsteps unsteady.
This was completely insane. What were they thinking climbing out of the window like that? Jack was bleeding like a stuck pig, and neither of them was dressed appropriately for scaling the side of a house.
Snow began to blow around them in a blinding rush. Thick, fluffy blobs of icy white fell faster and faster.
To make it worse, there was at least one someone else on the ledge with them. Left hand on the rough, cold stone wall, Mia took small, shuffling sideways steps and wracked her brain for a solution to their dilemma.
In the snow-blanketed garden below them prowled the ambassador’s security force, as yet unaware of the drama being played out directly above their heads. But they’d likely wise up soon. Then how long before they joined their pals up here on the roof?
Even if they could figure out a way to slide down a drainpipe, or swing down on a nonexistent vine, that would be a bad idea. Hard to look innocent and innocuous if they landed bleeding to death in the garden.
The solution would be to find a window—unlocked of course—and climb inside. Then they’d slip out a back way somehow.
While the answer seemed simple enough, Mia knew nothing in life was that simple. It was winter. Windows would not be left open on a night like this. Besides, nobody left windows unlocked anymore.
And the simple truth was, she was terrified Jack would bleed to death up here on the ledge while they went around and around the upper floor of the house like moons orbiting Jupiter.
When she’d pulled back his jacket to gauge the damage of the bullet wound she’d been alarmed at the amount of blood staining his nicely starched white shirt. She shied away from thinking about the hole in Jack that lurked behind that stain. He needed to be in a hospital, and he needed to be there now. Between climbing, teetering and balancing in the snow, she was certain his condition was deteriorating right along with the weather.
What to do?
A bullet gave answer to that question. There was no sound beyond a muffled whoosh from the silencer. The shot went wild, thank God, but the shooter, pinpointed by the muzzle flash, was too close for comfort.
They needed to haul ass. But to where? And how?
“Don’t return fire,” Jack warned in a low voice. “Our only advantage right now is they can’t see us, while we have at least a vague sense of where they are.” His fingers felt along the wall between them for her hand. “How’re you holding up, sweetheart?”
He was close enough for Mia to feel the heat off his body and to smell the hot metallic scent of his blood.
“Been better.” She paused as three more wild shots were fired in rapid succession. Terrifying in the darkness to see those ominous flashes, hear the whispered ricochet of a bullet pinging off the snow-covered roof. If this kept up, the ambassador’s roof would be leaking come spring. “What are our options here, Jack?” she demanded urgently.
He grunted in pain. “Much as I’m enjoying our togetherness, I’d prefer to do it at my place. Let’s not keep circling. So that leaves in, up or down. First option calls it. Speed it up though. This guy’s going to be tripping over us PDQ.”
The first available option was up.
“I don’t t-think so, Jack.” Mia said through chattering teeth. She gripped the narrow metal bar of a ladder in one hand. The ladder was attached to the side of the house and went from where they were standing on the ledge…up. How far up, she had no idea. She cautiously felt down below the ledge with her foot, while hanging on for dear life. But there was no corresponding escape route snaking down to the ground below them. “If we go on the roof there might not be a way down,” she felt compelled to point out.
“Like there’s a way now?” he demanded.
“Yeah, fine. But in the movies, the idiot heroine always goes up when she should be running away.”
He chuckled and, despite her fear, it was good to hear him laugh. “But the heroine always lives, doesn’t she, darling?”
“Good point. But how will you manage with your shoulder?”
“I’ll manage.”
A flurry of shots lit up the area. Mia could actually see the guy’s face as he realigned the muzzle in the right direction.
Shouts from below. Slender flashlight beams aimed toward the facade of the house. Crisscrossing. Searching. Scanning. Not reaching this high. But people below were coming out of the house now. Voices. Shouting. The crunch of booted feet on gravel.
“Jesus,” Jack hissed. “It’s a three-ring circus down there. Fire escape ladder. Go. Go. Go!”
Mia went. She could practically feel Jack’s hot breath on her feet as she climbed. His hand gripped the next bar before her feet left it.
She clambered up onto the flat roof, Jack a heartbeat behind her. His breath sounded ragged. She couldn’t begin to imagine the pain he was enduring. Snow reflected a little light. Not much, but enough to see various dark shapes of household systems lying on the rooftop like the humps of prehistoric beasts. “Now what?” she whispered, rubbing her arms uselessly. God it was cold. The snow was falling faster now. Soft and icy on her face. “Jack?”
“Yeah. I heard you.” He wasn’t shivering, Mia noticed. That wasn’t a good sign. “Hang on a sec.”
He turned and kicked at the top of the ladder. He kicked again. Hard. And again. Harder. Once more, and the top of the ladder detached from its moorings with a screech. It didn’t fall, but arced three feet away from the rooftop. No one was going to be coming up that way.
“Good thinking.”
Jack staggered as he came back to her side. Mia wrapped her arm about his waist, her mouth dry with fear as she got more of his weight than she’d bargained for. She too staggered before she braced herself.
“Let’s double back to the bedroom.”
“What if the guy I shot is still there?”
“If he’s stupid enough to still be hanging around, you can shoot him again. I have his weapon, remember?”
“Fine. Okay. Let’s go.” She didn’t care where or how, just that she had to get Jack downstairs and to a hospital. If it meant spending the rest of her natural life in a jail cell convicted of espionage to accomplish that goal, so be it.
The noise of activities far below muffled their footsteps as did the snow. Their long legs were in sync as they ran back the way they’d come.
“About here?” Mia paused on the edge of the roof.
“Farther.”
They ran. The roof, icy slick, made their progress dangerous and painstaking slow. The ground security forces were well behind them now, still searching the side of the building they’d been on moments before. Or possibly already on their way up to the roof. The bad guys who’d been a lot closer would find a way up here soon.
Heart in her throat, Mia saw the bathroom vent sticking up at the same time Jack did. “Bingo. Hold onto me for a sec—” When Jack grasped her arm with his good one, she leaned precariously over the side for a look.
She pulled herself upright. “The window’s still open. It’s about eight feet down. I think if we lower ourselves, we can stand on the frame and swing into the bathroom. Ready?”
“You are, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice thick.
“Are what?”
“Ready,” he repeated. “You’re ready and rarin’ to go.”
“Uh, yeah,” she said. “So what’s the holdup?”
“Just one thing before we head back in.”
“Jack,” Mia shot a glance at the ground below. “Now really isn’t the time for a chat.”
“It’s the perfect time for one of our chats, darling.” He grinned, then winced as he shifted to take hold of her despite the wound in his shoulder.
“Jack…” She tossed another quick look behind them.
“Mia, marry me.”
She almost got whiplash turning back to him. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“You’re proposing now?”
Jack stared at her and his heart kicked into a wild gallop. He’d been afraid of saying the words for so long and now that he’d said them, they felt…right. He loved her. He’d missed her every damn minute she’d been out of his life. Even the action was no fun without her.
But God only knew, he was braced for her to shoot him down in flames. He lost all feeling in his body as he prepared himself for the worst. What the hell could he say to convince her? How could he beg her to stay? What would make her stay? “I love you, Mia.”
“Careful. I may fall off the roof.”
“I’ll dive right after you.”
She stared at him for a long minute, brushing falling snow out of her eyes. “You’re only asking because you think we’re going to die and you won’t have to go through with a wedding, aren’t you?”
“No. I’m proposing now because I’m ready to live. I’m asking because without you, I might as well let that unibrow guy shoot me stone dead. I love you, darling, and God only knows I need you. Hell, even the job is no fun without you beside me, keeping me on my toes.”
“You’re serious.”
“Damn straight.”
He pulled her hard against him with the arm wrapped about her waist, then he crushed his mouth down on hers. His mouth was a liquid furnace. Hot, savage, hungry. A bolt of fire shot through her body as she stood up on her frozen toes to kiss him back with everything that was in her. Jack could take her from frozen to flashpoint in two-seconds flat.
He slid his hand up the back of her neck and tunneled his fingers through her damp hair. She wanted to curl into his warmth, stay in his arms forever—
“Jack,” she murmured against his mouth, “I love you—”
“How perfect is that?” His voice was whisper soft as he nibbled her lower lip. Hungry little nips that caused her body to respond instinctively. Her hands tightened about his neck. Against her midriff she felt the hot seep of Jack’s blood soaking through the thin silk of her dress.
“Just one more—”
“Stay right where you are,” a rough voice said out of the darkness.
Mia froze, her mouth still locked with Jack’s. The muzzle of a pistol ground into her temple. Wouldn’t you know it? He’d finally proposed and she was going to die before she could say yes.
She’d always known Jack would be the death of her.