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Her Knight to Remember Page 3
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“We’ll go out the ceiling.”
She stared at him. “That was going to be my idea.”
The look he shot her was nothing short of patronizing. “Right. I’ll go first, and—”
“I should go first.” She came up to him, startled anew by his sheer size. She refused to acknowledge how her head barely reached his wide shoulders, or the fact that his gaze dipped down to the barely there neckline of her dress, which she prayed had stayed in place. “I’ll need a boost.”
“Did you forget who’s the cop here?”
“So you’re one of those guys who have a problem with strong women—”
“I most definitely do not have a problem with women, strong or otherwise.”
His voice had gone low and dangerously soft. Sort of the way her father’s got when he was really close to losing his temper.
She had a feeling seeing this man blow his lid would be quite a show, but they didn’t have time for that right now.
A fact that was reiterated when another bullet hit the panel, again piercing the back wall above their heads and echoing throughout their small confines.
She put her hands over her ears at the same time he reached for her, covering her body with his.
“You have to stop doing that,” she said against his chest.
Against his really hard chest. She wondered if he had a smattering of dark hair across it or if he was smooth—
“Shut up. Please,” he begged. “Just shut up and let me rescue you.”
“I’ll rescue myself.”
“This is a nightmare. You’re a nightmare.”
She’d heard that before. “Just bend down and let me get on your shoulders. Do it quick before another bullet tears into us.”
He stared at her, then shook his head. “This isn’t some great adventure, you get that, right?”
“Of course—”
“Because I don’t think you realize that if Jimmy gets smart and gets upstairs before us, and your pretty little neck appears first, he’s not going to drop his gun, give you a hand, and help you out.”
“Well—”
“Unless, of course, you do exactly that.”
“What?”
“That.” His eyes remained on her face, but his voice changed again. Silky soft now. Very silky soft.
And she was clueless. “Do…what?”
“Pop a nipple out of your dress.”
CHAPTER 3
BECAUSE HE COULDN’T handle looking at her for another second, Kyle turned his back. Counted to ten. Calculated complicated algebra problems in his head.
Didn’t matter. He could still picture her nipple poking out from the top of her dress. Perfectly rose-colored and perky. Perfect size for a man’s mouth.
He was a man. A typical red-blooded man. With sex now firmly on the brain despite the fact that they were on the run from a bad guy with a gun.
Damn it.
“Sorry.”
This from behind him, in that voice that somehow screamed innocence and sex all at the same time.
“I haven’t had my dress fitted yet,” she said amongst the rustling of her dress. “And—”
“It’s okay,” he said to the wall. No way could he look at her and hold eye contact. Nope, his gaze had a mind of its own suddenly, run by the boss between his legs, and it wouldn’t be able to hold back from taking another look to see if she’d managed to cover herself.
“I couldn’t wear a bra with it because—”
“It’s okay,” he repeated, and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, trying to think of something else, anything other than how absolutely delectable her nipple had been.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said in what he thought was a remarkably casual voice. “To do that, I need to concentrate. And to do that, I need you to be really, really quiet. Can you do that one little thing, do you think?” He risked a look at her.
Her eyes narrowed. Her mouth opened. Then closed.
“Good girl,” he said.
“I’m not a girl. I’m a grown woman.”
He knew his eyes went hot, knew his voice sounded low and husky, but he couldn’t help it. “I realize that.”
“Do you? Do you realize there’s no need to be rude? Just because your manhood feels threatened by me suggesting you might need my help—”
His manhood didn’t feel threatened so much as…horny. “I don’t need your help—” He broke off when another bullet tore into the control panel, getting ensnared high in the corner this time. Not forgetting to save her ungrateful hide, Kyle drew her down into the corner yet again.
They stayed that way for a moment, until he realized how still she’d become. Damn. She’d probably, finally, gone into shock.
But then she shoved him off her, stood and hiked up her dress, revealing a pair of long, toned legs in thigh-high stockings rimmed with lace, held there by a simple white, devastatingly sexy garter belt.
His jaw dropped. “What—” His voice cracked like a teenager and he tried again. “What are you doing?”
“Did you see that? The direction of the bullet entry?”
Yes, damn it, he had. Jimmy was still below them.
“I’m safe going first.” She put her lifted skirt between her teeth. Then she shoved not one, not two, but three hoops down her legs. Stepping out of them with a sigh, she took her skirt in her hands.
Rip.
Okay, she’d succumbed to the stress. He’d never actually seen it happen, but had heard of such things. She was going to tear off her dress and go running naked through the streets. Maybe even sexually attack him. He had to stop her, help her, but good God, he’d gotten a quick glimpse of barely there white-lace panties. Just a tiny little wisp of material between her legs, hardly covering—
With one last rip, she straightened and tossed aside miles of material, leaving her with the form-fitting bodice of the dress still in place, but the wild skirt was completely subdued and laying nicely against her body to midthigh.
“There,” she said. “Better. Now…You need to lift me up to get us out of here.” Without another word, she walked behind him and lifted her hands to his shoulders.
“Say pretty please with sugar on top,” she breathed in his ear, “and I’ll be sure to pause at the top to give you a hand.”
He blinked. “What?”
“Boost me up.”
“But…” What had just happened? Here he was, poised to fight off her sexual advances, but she hadn’t jumped his bones at all.
“Come on,” she said, pushing on his shoulders. “Up.”
So that’s how he found himself putting his hands over hers to steady her and going to his knees.
Helping her to his shoulders should have been a breeze, but by the time she’d plastered her chest to his upper back, then climbed up his body, rubbing her breasts against the back of his neck, panting in his ear, pausing for balance, he was sweating again.
“Okay,” she said, balanced on his shoulders, still holding his hands. “I’m ready.”
“Be careful.”
“Just lift me up.”
He had a moment to think again about how amazing she really was. How she was together and perfectly willing to pitch in to save their lives. That she was also annoying and bad tempered went without saying. Maybe it was her way of showing shock.
Her toes dug into his shoulders. They were bare of polish but she had a silver ring on the second toe of her left foot. Her hands in his remained cool and steady, and as he straightened, so did she, in perfect balance, reaching for the panel above them.
“Nice and easy,” he said, sliding his hands from her ankles to her calves for extra support, then farther up the backs of her legs to hold her low on her thighs.
He knew, or his brain knew, that now wasn’t really the time to enjoy the soft, smooth silkiness of her stocking-covered legs, but it wasn’t his brain running the show at the moment.
“Nice and easy has its place,” she said breathlessly. “B