know the code.”
“That won’t stop them.”
His grim certainty, in a cool, calm voice, gave her a shiver. No, that wouldn’t stop them. “What are you going to do?”
“Whatever I have to.”
Horror filled her. “Kill them?”
“Hell, no.” She felt him shudder, and his reaction might have been funny if anything about this situation could have possibly been funny. She’d been surrounded by bad guys for so long now, she just assumed everyone was one. “Sorry.”
“Forget it. Let’s just get what you need.”
She’d have sworn she’d become immune to emotions after all she’d been through, but like before with him, her throat tightened. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. If anything more strange happens, I’m calling the cops.”
Panic filled her. “The police can’t help me.”
“Of course they can.”
“No.” She wouldn’t give Stephen a reason to go after Kenny. Or now Noah. “No police. Trust me. They can’t help.”
His gaze slid over her. A muscle in his jaw bunched. From inside his shirt, he pulled out what looked like a pen, but when he flicked a switch, it lit up like a flashlight.
“Stay back,” he said as he turned to some sort of electrical panel next to the doors. Opening it, he began punching numbers on the keypad. “Away from the window.”
“What are you doing?”
He shut the panel. “Gaining us some time.”
He’d messed up the code somehow, and she just looked at him, stunned. She’d have sworn she’d had him pegged, with that gorgeous smile, his careless, easy way of wearing clothes, the light stride, as if he’d never had a care in the world.
But he kept surprising her, leaving her off center, and completely unable to peg him. And damn, if she didn’t find herself with the tragically ridiculous realization that she was nursing a serious crush. Hell of a place to be, considering she’d practically kidnapped him. “Who are you, MacGyver?”
With the glow of the penlight, she saw a ghost of a smile curve his lips. “Come on.”
“They’ll just break the glass to get in.”
“Maybe, but they’ll have to dismantle the alarm I just reset first, and that’s going to buy us a few.”
She moved to the elevator, which he studied for a brief moment. “No,” he said.
“No?”
“The stairs.”
She looked down at her worthless high-heeled boots. Of course, the stairs. “It’s nine flights.”
“Then we’d better hurry.”
“But-”
“Look, getting stuck in the elevator because they’ve cut the electricity doesn’t appeal much.”
No. No, it didn’t.
“Nor does the idea of the doors opening to surprise goons, if they somehow beat us up there. Come on.” He opened the stairwell door and looked back at her.
She sighed, then entered. The first flight wasn’t so bad, and she began to think maybe she could do this without even breaking a sweat.
Then halfway up the second flight, she began to huff and puff. Oddly enough, she remained cold, so cold she still shivered hard enough to rattle her teeth together.
“Shh,” he murmured.
Shh? Shh? She’d like to shh him! But then he went still, and she plowed into his back.
He reached back to steady her, his arm wrapping around her hips. This action glued her to his side, which in turn left her feeling extremely clumsy, and yet…
Utterly female.
She couldn’t help it, pressed against him as hard as she was, inhaling his warm scent. Absorbing his body heat, she felt distinctly protected. Worried about.
And for the first time all night, just a little bit heated. But even all the body heat in the world couldn’t fuel her engine. They kept moving.
On the third-floor landing, she was breathing so hard, she thought she might die. On the fifth floor, she came to a gasping halt, knowing it. “Can’t.”
“Only four more flights.”
She would have laughed if she’d had the breath. Four more flights? She’d have better luck at Mt. Everest. “I definitely need…to get back to…those yoga classes.”
He let out a soft laugh, and she felt his gaze run up her body. “I thought you were a model.”
“Yes, but my metabolism is hereditary. I’m in terrible aerobic shape.”
“You look like you do all right.”
As before, her body tingled with an awareness that felt a little bit shocking given she was in the middle of the most terror-filled night of her life.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s do this.” And taking her hand, he tugged her up another flight.
She did her best, but she was definitely lagging. He simply pulled her along, practically carrying her. “What’s up here?” he asked.
“A penthouse suite.”
“No, what’s up here that we can’t leave until we get it?”
We.
For so long she’d been an I, all alone in this. But he’d said we. He wasn’t going to abandon her, no matter what she deserved, and she put a hand to her pounding heart. She’d swear she could feel it trying to leap out of her chest. She couldn’t even answer. She could barely keep air in her lungs. Instead, she went to follow him as closely as she could, which since he still had a grip on her, was pretty damn close.
“Bailey?”
She had no idea what to say, so she said nothing.
Finally, at the ninth floor just outside the penthouse door, he stopped.
Pressed her back to the wall.
Then held her there.
Waiting.
The only light came from the windows at either end of the hallway, where the snow’s glow lit up the black night with a blueish tint. Adding to the odd lighting, the hallway was lined in mirrors, and shadows cast from them, reflecting the fancy brass trim all around, and the look of concentration on Noah’s face.
“Talk to me,” he demanded very quietly. “In ten seconds or less.”
“I’m not exactly sure what I’m getting,” she admitted.
He just looked at her.
“Okay, it’s…complicated.”
“No shit, Princess. Eight seconds.”
She had to tell him something. “It’s not only complicated; it’s a long story. Much longer than eight seconds.”
He didn’t look happy at that answer, but honestly, she didn’t know how to explain the situation quickly. Hell, she didn’t know how to explain the situation with all the time in the world. She had no idea exactly where to look, or even if the money was here. “I’m sorry, I-”
Noah slid a hand to her mouth.
And that was when she heard it.
The ping of the elevators.
Someone was in one of them, maybe several someones, coming up.
