For falling in love with her so completely.
When they reached the door, he released her hand to grip his revolver. Based on what he could determine, the missile had been fired through the bedroom window. The bastard was probably using one of those illegal handheld missile launchers. Striker’s plan was to get Margo to the wine cellar, where she would be safe. Then he intended to find the bastard and make him regret ever making Margo a target.
Easing the door open, he could see the glow from the ceiling lights they’d left on in the kitchen and living room below. At least he’d had the damn good sense to keep the curtains drawn. Only once, when Margo had complained of not being able to see the beautiful view outside, had he given in and kept them open for a few hours. It had been against his better judgment, but it had been worth it to see the smile on her face.
Striker rose to his feet and brought Margo up with him. “I doubt if anyone has gotten inside, but I’m not taking any chances. Evidently that first missile was to let us know he’s here. He’s probably giving us time to think about that for a minute or two. And that’s where he’s making his second mistake.” His first mistake was even thinking he could take Margo’s life.
Pressing against the wall with Margo, whom he tried keeping behind him, he eased them toward the second set of stairs that led to the cellar. He had checked out the wine cellar the first day and saw it was stocked with several bottles of water as well.
It was only when they reached the stairs that he moved her in front of him to protect her back. “Watch your step. It’s a long way down,” he told her, releasing her wrist, grateful for the emergency lights that shone near the floor to illuminate the way. “Lock the door behind you and stay put until I come back for you.”
She grabbed hold of his arm, frowning. “Why? Where are you going?”
“To take care of business, like I should have been doing all along. Now, please do as I told you.”
She stared at him, and it was as if she was seeing into his very soul. “Take care of yourself, Striker, and come back for me.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment and then he leaned down and kissed her forehead, thinking he would love her forever. “I will. But I don’t want to worry about you. The person I’ll be dealing with is a killer, and I need to concentrate. Stay focused.”
She nodded. “I understand, and I will do what you said. You just make sure you keep your word and come back.” She tilted her mouth for him to kiss her.
He lowered his mouth to hers. Kissing was the last thing they needed to be doing right now, but he figured it was the only thing he wanted to do before he left to make sure her life was never threatened again.
He loved kissing her, loved the way she would respond, contribute and share a part of herself with him. But, knowing he had to go, he broke off the kiss. Instead of saying anything else, she licked her lips, which was her way of letting him know how much she’d enjoyed his taste. She turned and quickly walked down the stairs to the cellar. He held his breath when she opened the door, went inside and closed the door behind her. He heard the lock click in place.
It was only then that he released the breath he’d been holding. Turning with his gun in his hand, he was determined to put an end to the assassin’s killing spree once and for all.
*
THE ASSASSIN TOOK a sip of his coffee as he leaned against a tree. Nice place, he thought, looking at the huge cabin. Too bad by the time it was over he would have destroyed most of it.
By now the police would have discovered Leonard Small’s body. What pissed him off more than anything was that Small had been expecting him. That was no fun. He liked having the element of surprise on his side. It was no fun when the person knew they were about to die.
He took another sip of coffee, smiling when he thought about how easy it had been to block any calls coming in or going out of the cabin, thanks to a device he’d acquired on the black market last year. He’d also been able to block the police notifications when the security alarm went off. So if they were waiting for the police to respond to the alarm, they were in for a rude awakening.
It was obvious the woman wasn’t at the cabin alone. A hysterical female on her own would have run out of the cabin hollering and screaming and giving him a chance to get a good shot on her.
He checked his watch, thinking he’d given the people inside the cabin a good twenty minutes to ponder what they needed to do. It was time to give them another scare. If they still refused to come out, then he would shoot a flaming ball inside the cabin. He would either burn them out or burn them up. Either way was fine with him.
*
ADRENALINE SEEPED OUT OF Striker’s every pore as he crawled out the bathroom window. It had been a tight squeeze and he’d scraped his upper arm on a piece of glass. That scratch, along with the night’s chill, was an unwelcome reminder that he was shirtless. But the last thing he’d wanted was for Margo to be naked. Hell. The fact that she was wearing his T-shirt without a stitch of clothing underneath was bad enough and sure to raise a few brows when they were rescued. And he wanted to believe they would be. Like Striker had told Margo, Stonewall would have figured they were in danger by now. In the meantime, he would show the crazy assassin that, when warranted, he could be just as crazy.
He was glad Margo hadn’t given him any grief about staying locked in the wine cellar until he returned. He’d seen a degree of trust in her eyes and he didn’t intend to let her down. Her life depended on it. And because she was the love of his life, his life depended on it as well.
He managed to land on his feet, and the moment they hit solid ground he crouched down and looked around. The property was shrouded in darkness. The only light was from the stars and the moon overhead. He had no idea where the assassin was, and he’d taken a big chance in coming out on this side of the house. But based on the trajectory of the missile, the bastard was somewhere stationed on the other side of the house.
Suddenly a bright light whizzed overhead within twenty feet of him. Another missile, this one through the living room window. Damn. As long as Margo stayed put, she was safe. For now. At least he now knew where the missile had been launched. Crouching down with his Beretta drawn, he headed in that direction.
*
MARGO PACED THE CELLAR that was stocked with bottles of wine. As a child, she’d loved hiding in her parents’ basement and recalled a number of fond memories she had of being there. That space was a lot bigger than this one, and every once in a while her parents would join her when she hosted a tea party.
Those had been great times for her and now were great memories. Her parents had wanted more than one child, but after a couple of miscarriages they had decided she would be their only one. They had showered her with all their love and she thought about them often—a lot more than usual lately. Probably because, as she grew older, she wondered if they would be proud of the woman she’d become or disappointed that she hadn’t followed in her father’s footsteps by becoming involved in more of the day-to-day operations at Connelly Enterprises.
She drew in a deep breath, knowing her parents would have loved her enough to allow her to make her own decisions as to how she wanted to live her life. Murdock Connelly had been less of a traditionalist than her uncle Frazier. But her uncle had never tried pressuring her to take her father’s place at the company. She smiled, thinking he was probably glad she hadn’t. She loved her uncle immensely but could see how their opinions would clash.