Cold as Ice (Ice 2)

He wasn’t reassuring. Not that she expected him to be. “So what else?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“So polite,” she murmured. “What else should I do to defend myself? Besides the chop across the neck? Maybe I just want to incapacitate someone, not make them drown in their own blood. Some of us are a bit more squeamish than others.”

“Don’t bother trying to sweep him with your leg. It’s too common a trick, and you’re not fast enough or practiced enough to get away with it. If you have a sharp object, like the pocketknife, a pencil or even a set of keys, jab them in the eyes. And don’t say ‘gross’ again. If they can’t see you they’ll have a harder chance of getting you.”

She didn’t bother to point out that the likelihood of her having keys wasn’t good if things were going to continue the way they had. “Okay,” she said. “I’m still looking for something to stop them, not maim them for life.”

He put his book down and looked at her for a long, thoughtful moment. “Stand up,” he said. He rose, standing over her. “Come on.”

She had mixed feelings about it. She didn’t like him looming over her, but she wasn’t too eager to stand and be that close either. She should never have even brought up the subject.

But if she didn’t stand he’d pull her up—she already knew that much, so she rose, and he was close, much too close. “Turn around,” he said.

That was the last thing she wanted to do. “I don’t intend to turn my back on any of you if I can help it.”

“You won’t have a choice.” He put his hard hands on her shoulders and spun her around so that she was facing the wall. She could see Harry’s body on the bed, drugged and unmoving, and she wondered if he was already dead. And what in the world the poor man could have done that someone thought would merit being murdered.

A moment later she was facedown on the floor, with him down beside her, his knee in the center of her back. “Would you get off me?” she said after a moment, though her voice was muffled by the carpet.

He released her, and she rolled over on her side, away from him. He was squatting beside her, completely unruffled. “You can’t afford to get distracted, worry about things that are out of your control, like Harry over there. You won’t stand a chance against Renaud or Hans or any of the others.”

She’d given up resenting that he always seemed to read her mind, and concentrated on what mattered. “There are others?”

“Of course there are others. An operation this complex is hardly a small-time affair.”

“You must be very well funded.”

“We are. And I’m not about to enlighten you on the details. I’m just trying to teach you a few tricks that might help you if Hans or Renaud decide to have a little fun with you. If you come up against one of the others then you’re shit out of luck.”

“I don’t think my luck’s been running so hot lately anyway,” she said.

“You’re still alive, aren’t you? That in itself is a surprising piece of luck. And you probably won’t have to worry about Hans—he doesn’t have much use for women in the first place.”

“Wouldn’t that make him more likely to kill me?”

He reached out

his hand and she had no choice but to let him pull her to her feet. “I doubt he would care enough to bother. You’re pretty small potatoes in his scale of things.”

“And what about you?” He was still holding on to her arm, the one he’d twisted behind her back, and he was absently stroking it with his thumb, just where it was most painful. She wondered whether he even knew he was doing it, and she pulled away from him, glaring at him.

“You’re going to have a bruise there,” he said.

“What do you want to do, kiss it and make it better?”

Silence between them. It was like another presence in the room, more intrusive than Harry’s comatose body, and for a moment she was afraid to meet his eyes. But she did anyway, though his reaction was unreadable.

It was like Pandora’s box—now that the word was out there was no turning back. And it would have been a waste of time pretending—he seemed to have a wicked ability to know what she was thinking.

“You kissed me,” she said abruptly. “Last night.

” There was no change in his grave expression, but she was certain he was finding her amusing. The thought was infuriating. “Yes,” he said. “I did.”

“Why?”

“Because it was the easiest way to get close enough to render you unconscious,” he said. “Shall I demonstrate?”