Cold as Ice - Anne Stuart [81]
She stared at him. “Out of commission?” she echoed in a whisper. “What the hell does that mean?”
“You know what it means. Your fondest wish. Now stay down and keep quiet.” He released her chin and moved away. She probably thought he’d wanted to kiss her. Foolish Ms. Genevieve Spenser. Of course he wanted to kiss her. And that was the last thing he was going to do, ever again.
Harry had always had a weakness for theatrics, and he liked to think of his secret escape route as the Batcave, and Peter couldn’t argue. Takashi had given him the code that opened the hidden garage door, and he’d pulled his car into the cavern, parking it beside Harry’s Porsche. There’d been a guard, of course, but he’d taken care of him, and his body was resting in the backseat of Harry’s car, just to keep things tidy. He hadn’t needed Takashi’s help to bypass the security system and find his way down to the bottom and the annoying Ms. Spenser. Now he simply had to make sure the coast was clear before he got her into the nondescript Ford he’d brought and took her the hell out of there.
Those black pajamas had been a good choice—she blended well into the shadows except for her pale hair, and that had been pulled back. He supposed some men might find her appealing, but he wasn’t one of them. No, the sight of Genny Spenser in black silk pajamas was leaving him absolutely cold…
The gun spat fire in the darkness, and he felt something sting his shoulder. He dropped instantly, his gun in his hand, and rolled between the parked cars. The first guard had definitely been dead—this must be a new one. Or more.
He touched his shoulder and swore silently. He was bleeding, which would make him easier to track in the darkened cavern. His assailant wouldn’t know whether he’d winged him or killed him, but he wasn’t saying a word, just moving through the huge room with a pitiful attempt at stealth.
Clearly the man was outmatched by Peter’s training. He rolled to one side, half under the Ford, and held his breath. He heard the door to the stairs slam shut and breathed a sigh of relief. At least she’d gotten out of harm’s way. With luck the shooter would think he was the one who’d gone back down the stairs, and Peter would be able to take him by surprise.
He could see the door from his vantage point, even better when the guard switched on his high-powered flashlight and shone it around the cave. Peter moved under the car a bit more, but he’d left a smear of blood on the concrete floor, and not even the worst amateur would miss something like that. The gun felt cool and deadly in his hand, and the familiar iciness spread through him. He’d have to rise and take his best shot, and know that was good enough. He’d never missed, but then, he’d never fucked up the way he’d been fucking up. If it was his time, so be it. At least Genevieve was out of there, and Takashi would see to her.
The flashlight was switched off, and Peter could hear movement in the cavern, movement designed to be stealthy and failing completely. There were two of them, he realized belatedly. Why hadn’t he realized that in the first place? Two of them circling the area, looking for him.
He rolled out from under the car, pulling himself to a sitting position without making a sound. He had excellent night vision and didn’t doubt for a moment he could take at least one of them out. A second one was more problematic, but he was still one of the best shots in the world, and the odds were in his favor.
He drew his knees up, waiting in his calm, icy zone, waiting, waiting.
It all happened at once, in the kind of disjointed slow motion that always seemed to take over. The flashlight flashed onto him, full brightness, and beyond it he could see the barrel of a gun, just as someone came hurtling toward him, throwing themself in front