Page 64 of Her Reluctant Hero
She nodded and went again, him right behind her.
A door opened above them, one floor up. Isabella looked at him and whipped down the next rail, rubbing her ass before she jumped on the next. Yeah, a little friction did a lot to heat up the jeans.
When he felt they had enough room between them and whoever else was on the stairs—whoever it was didn’t seem in much of a hurry—he caught Isabella’s hand and they started running again.
Three more floors, two, one, the lobby.
He pushed her behind the door and drew his gun discreetly before opening the door to peer out into the open space between here and the door.
Not a lot of people this late at night, but he didn’t have the best vantage point. His target—or targets, they may have reunited—could be anywhere between here and the valet stand. With no one around, he and Isabella wouldn’t exactly be inconspicuous. Damn if he wanted to have a firefight in the middle of a hotel in downtown Miami.
“Stay here,” he said to her quietly. “When I get to the truck, I’ll signal you.”
“What about him?” she asked, pointing to the determined footsteps overhead.
“When you see his feet, bolt. But not before then. Can you keep an eye on both of us?”
She nodded. “Be safe,” she whispered.
He glanced over. Her eyes were huge, fear gleaming in them. He leaned over, pressed a hard kiss to her mouth and stepped into the lobby, gun hand hidden behind his duffel.
