She looked quite different from the glittering debutante who’d been in the ballroom. Different from the seductive temptress in the silk robe who’d made him ache minutes before.
Now Cassidy was clad in jeans and a loose T-shirt, and her hair tumbled around her shoulders. He still found her sexy—no matter what, he kept finding her sexy.
Problem.
Because he wasn’t supposed to want her. That hadn’t been part of his assignment. He’d never mixed business with pleasure before.
Don’t start now.
“How did you know I was going to run?” Cassidy pressed. Nervous energy seemed to pour from her.
“Because Mercer told me that you would run.” If you let her out of your sight, she’s gone, had been Mercer’s gruff words. He hadn’t actually believed the man, at least, not until she’d said...
I’ll change in the bathroom and be right back.
“And your voice changed,” he said. A small hitch, barely noticeable, but he’d been paying careful attention to her. That little hitch had put him on high alert.
He’d known that Cassidy wasn’t coming back to him.
So he’d decided to go after her.
“My voice changed?” Her voice rose then. “Impossible. No one can tell when I’m lying.”
He flashed a hard smile. “I could.”
She frowned at him; then her gaze snaked over his shoulder. Ah, nice trick. Her eyes had narrowed even more, as if she was intently studying something behind him. Obviously, the lady was trying to distract him. If he followed her gaze and looked in that direction, she’d try to run away.
This wasn’t amateur hour. He wasn’t about to—
“Look out!” Cassidy screamed.
She didn’t try to run away.
She grabbed him, twisting with him so that they both fell in a heap, crashing onto the cement even as a crack of thunder broke the waning night.
Not thunder. He knew that sound too well—gunshot.
He rolled them, positioning their bodies so that he was on top of her, shielding Cassidy. He heard her mutter, “You’re welcome, cowboy.”
He lifted his gun. His gaze searched the area. The shot had come from the south, from the heavier shadows there. They had no good cover, and he had to get her out of there.
From what he could tell, the shot hadn’t drawn any attention. They were away from the main party streets, so this area of town was pretty deserted. And the shooter—well, he was probably just waiting for Cale and Cassidy to move.
They’d rolled behind an old sports car. One that they couldn’t hide behind forever. But some generous person had conveniently parked the car at the edge of the alley.
Your mistake, buddy, but thanks.
“Where’s your team?” Cassidy demanded in a low whisper. “You have a team, right? Shouldn’t they be here?”
His team was still back at the ballroom, talking with the local authorities and trying to figure out just who those men had been.
For the moment, he and Cassidy were on their own.
Cale quickly considered his options. He could try to get her back upstairs into her room.
And then have the shooter—shooters?—come up after us? Not the best idea.
Or he could get her the hell out of there.