Her attacker jerked, releasing his hold on the cord around PJ’s neck.
PJ pitched forward to her hands and knees and crawled away, dragging in huge gulps of air. When she turned, the man in black sailed through the air toward her.
She threw herself to the side in time to avoid the collision.
The man hit the ground hard, rolled to his feet and dived for the sliding glass door leading onto the balcony, slamming it open.
Her savior charged after him, naked to the waist, his body glistening with droplets of water.
It all happened so fast, PJ didn’t see his face, only his hulking size and rippling, well-toned muscles flashing past.
The attacker in black launched himself over the balcony and dropped to the pavement below, disappearing out of sight. The bare-chested man braced his hands on the rail, his muscles bunched, ready to follow, and then he hesitated.
He stood with his back to PJ for a long, agonizing moment. Would he jump?
PJ prayed he wouldn’t. She didn’t wish for her hero to be hurt in the fall. At long last, he turned to face her.
Ready to thank her rescuer, PJ’s breath left her lungs in a rush.
“Oh, dear God.” She pressed her fist to her mouth, her eyes filling with tears, all her hopes and fears of ever seeing this man again wrapped up in one word. “Chuck.”
PJ’s world faded into black.