Personal Protector. Debra Webb
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PIPER TOOK ANOTHER deep breath and stared at her reflection in the gilt-framed mirror. She was a complete idiot. How could she be jealous of Martinez?
Sure, he looked amazing in that tux. The fact of the matter was that he looked pretty damned amazing naked, too. But she wasn’t supposed to notice that. She had purposely avoided overly handsome men in the past. They were trouble. That’s what her mother said, and Piper herself knew it to be true. Her father had been extraordinarily handsome. And every friend she’d ever had had a story to tell about how some good-looking guy had done her wrong.
Piper squared her shoulders and adopted a “no prisoners” expression. She would not be another conquest in Martinez’s memoirs. So what if he was cute and sexy…as well as nice and funny? Her fierce expression wilted. The people at Hope Place during today’s interview had loved him. He’d fit right in, connected with them on a level Piper hadn’t been able to. And then tonight, when she was in the very element her mother had trained her to fit into, he was at home there, as well. Chatting knowledgeably and intelligently. Smiling that killer smile that made all the ladies take notice. And taking their cards, yet!
Piper squeezed her eyes shut and wished for Jones. She didn’t like it when she felt confused, and Ric Martinez confused her. Somehow she had to block his effect on her. Dismiss his overpowering persona. One week and six days. That’s all she had left. She could ignore him for that long, couldn’t she? Jones would be back and so would Mr. Rizzoli. And then her life could go back to normal. All she had to do was get her emotions back under control.
Still holding her eyes closed tightly, she counted to ten. She had to go back out there and face Martinez…and all the rest.
“Hello, Piper,” a distinctly male voice whispered.
An arm instantly closed around her neck. Piper’s eyes snapped open. The lights were out. The room was pitch-black.
Fingers of steel closed over her mouth before she could scream. “No screaming,” the voice told her.
Piper struggled to identify the voice. Had she heard this man’s voice in the crowd tonight? Was he someone she knew? Her heart slammed against her rib cage. Fear ignited inside her. No. She didn’t know him. He was not a friend or acquaintance.
SSU had sent this man. She was going to die now. It was her turn, she realized. The image of the three dead reporters flashed in vivid Technicolor before her eyes. She would be the fourth victim. She should have listened to her uncle.
“Someone is going to die tonight, but it isn’t you,” the voice assured her as if he’d just read her mind. “You still have time, Piper. Time to promote our cause and undo some of the harm your kind have done.”
Her fingers clamped instinctively around the arm tightening on her throat. An agonized moan echoed in the darkness. The sound came from her. Tears spilled past her lashes. She never cried. Not even when her uncle had told her that her father was dead. She hadn’t cried even once. The salty droplets slid down her cheeks now only to stall on the fingers held tightly over her lips. She didn’t want to die.
“Every move we make is deliberate. Those protecting you believe they are foiling our attempts, but, as you can clearly see—well, maybe see is not the right word,” he mused sardonically. “As you can feel—” his arm tightened to the point of cutting off her breath “—you are quite vulnerable to us. We could kill you, just as we have the other three, at any moment. Now if we so desired.”
His arm loosened. Air surged into her burning lungs. She needed to gasp…to cough, but his hand was still on her mouth holding her silent and right where he wanted her.
He hummed a note of sympathy in her ear. “It’s such a relief to be able to breathe, isn’t it? Every day we take that simple, yet life-giving ability for granted.” He jerked her head back hard against his shoulder. “Know this, Piper Ryan, you will die when the time is right.” He laughed softly, menacingly. “No one can protect you from us. No one can save you. No one.”
Ice-cold dread strummed through her veins. The urge to scream, to fight, was overwhelming. Before she could act on the impulse, his fingers pressed into her throat, against her carotid artery. She needed to get away! All thought ceased as she slumped against him.
RIC GLANCED at his watch once more. Seven full minutes had passed since Piper disappeared behind that door. Seven minutes too long. And what about the other woman? The blonde who’d walked in maybe five minutes ago? He straightened and turned back to the door technically off-limits to the male species.
He rapped firmly against it. “Piper, are you all right in there?” If she was chatting with the other woman, she would just have to be embarrassed. He had to know that she was safe. He didn’t really put a lot of stock in propriety anyway. He never had.
No answer.
Frowning, he considered his options. Knock again or open the door and find out for himself. His palm flattened on the door just as something at the edge of his vision snagged his attention. The crack under the door was dark. His frown deepened as his pulse kicked into overdrive. That meant the room beyond was dark.
Damn.
Withdrawing the weapon tucked into the back of his waistband, Ric leaned against the door but met firm resistance. It was locked. Adrenaline slid through his veins. He swore under his breath and readied himself to force the door open. He slammed hard against it once, twice, then pushed into the darkness.
The room was thick with silence. He felt for the switch on the wall with his left hand and with one flick of his thumb filled the room with light. He blinked as his gaze adjusted to the brightness.
A sitting area. It was empty. Listening intently, he eased across the small room and listened for several seconds. Nothing. Holding his weapon with both hands, he swung into the tiled area where the fancy stalls and elegant sinks lined both sides of the walls.
Piper lay on the floor.
Fear surged into his throat. Keeping an eye out for any movement, he knelt beside her just as she tried to push up into a sitting position. She made a sound, half sob, half whimper, as he closed his arm around her and pulled her close.
“Are you all right?” he demanded, surveying her for damage. Her hair was mussed, but that appeared to be the extent of the external damage.
“What happened?” he asked when she didn’t answer quickly enough to suit him. Where the hell was the blonde? Was she the one who did this? And where the hell did she go? Anger rushed through his veins. Dammit, he should have checked the place out before she came in here. But she hadn’t given him the chance. Could he have kept the blonde out without causing a scene?
“He…he—” Piper touched her throat “—did something to my neck and I blacked out.” Her eyes rounded with remembered fear. “Did you see him?” She whipped her head from side to side. “Where is he?” Before Ric could stop her, she tried to scramble up.
“You’re sure it was a he?” As he helped Piper to her feet, Ric considered whether the blonde could have been a man in disguise. He didn’t see how, but…
“It was a man,” Piper insisted, her voice sounded raspy. “He was wearing a wool mask, like a ski mask. I felt the roughness of it against my cheek.” Now that she was vertical again, and despite the visible shaking, anger was quickly replacing the fear in her eyes.
“Don’t move,” Ric instructed. No one came back out of the door, not even the blonde. And, unless she was dead inside one of the stalls—he quickly scanned the bottom of each and decided that wasn’t likely—she was in on it. Ric pushed each door inward just to be certain, ready to fire if anyone moved.
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