The Bodyguard (Norcross #4) - Anna Hackett Page 0,45
time.” Now his voice was excited. “I can’t wait to watch you fight, and smell your fear, show you a sweet death.”
Bastard. Fear was ugly and slick inside her, but she let her anger drown it out.
She was getting out of here. She was getting back to Rome.
She reached the far side of the room and saw a window. She rose.
She knew they were one floor up, so she wasn’t sure she’d survive the fall in one piece. She looked back. But if she stayed in this smoke-filled room she was guaranteed to die.
Glancing around, she noted that the smoke was thinning, and for a second, she saw a menacing shadow of a man. She also smelled a sharp chemical smell that was vaguely familiar.
Her pulse went crazy. It was now or never.
She grabbed a chair, and swung it at the window.
Glass shattered.
“Princess! You can’t escape me.”
The shadow came at her. She swung the chair again.
It connected with something and she heard a groan.
She didn’t stop to look.
Heedless of the broken glass, Sofie scrambled out the window.
There was a wide ledge outside and she rose, walking along it. She kept her back pressed to the building.
Oh. God.
Down below, she saw cars on the street, and a cable car rattling past.
A fire truck was also coming down the road, sirens blaring.
Sofie kept moving, and then saw the curved metal-and-glass awning over the entrance to the hotel.
She could drop onto that, then lower herself down to the street.
She kept moving. Finally, she was in position. Gut churning, she took a deep breath. She prayed the glass panels would hold under her weight.
Releasing a breath, she jumped.
Sofie landed on the glass awning like a starfish, her arms and legs spread.
She heard shouts, and her knee throbbed where she’d banged it. She crawled to the edge of the awning, then rolled over the side.
She dangled there, holding on by her fingers for a second before she dropped.
She hit the sidewalk hard, her bones rattling. Ow.
“Miss, are you okay?”
She looked up and saw a firefighter in full gear.
“Please.” Sofie scrambled up. “There was a man chasing me. And smoke in the Garden Court.” She thought of Rome. “My bodyguard is hurt.”
“Calm down.” The firefighter paused. “You’re bleeding.”
“A man was chasing me.” She felt a little dizzy now. “He wanted to kill me.”
The firefighter looked at her face. “You’re…Princess Sofia.”
She nodded.
“Come on.” The man took her arm gently. “We need the police and a paramedic.”
“I have some other guards here too.” She looked around, but didn’t see Mike or Dan.
As they neared a throng of police cars and ambulances, a man broke away from the police cruisers. He wore a dark suit, with a badge clipped to his belt.
He looked an awful lot like Ryder Morgan. A slightly more clean-cut, but still outrageously attractive version of the paramedic.
When the man saw her, his eyes widened. “Princess Sofia?”
She nodded. “Please, I need help—”
“Where’s Rome? And your other guards?”
“Rome—” Her voice cracked. “They attacked him. He went down and told me to run.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I don’t know if he’s okay.”
“We’ll find him.” The detective took her arm.
She grabbed at his jacket. “You’re related to Ryder, aren’t you?”
The man nodded. “I’m his brother, Detective Hunter Morgan. Wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”
“Detective, my stalker found me. I…jumped out a window.”
The detective looked up, scanned, and saw a broken window. “Rome’s going to be pissed. Come on, we’ll get someone to look at your cuts. I’ll also call Vander.” Detective Morgan waved at some uniforms. “Dixon, Carr, I need you guys to guard the princess.”
The uniformed officers—one man and one woman—jolted, staring at her. Sofie started to shake.
“You’re safe now.” Detective Morgan took her to the back of one of the ambulances, barking orders at some of the paramedics.
“Princess Sofia.” Mike shouldered through the crowd, Dan on his heels.
“Watch her,” the detective said to the guards and the uniforms. “No one gets close.”
Sofie grabbed the man’s arm. “Detective Morgan, please, Rome—”
“Call me Hunt.” He met her gaze. His eyes were a deep green flecked with gold. “I’ll find him.”
She nodded.
Hunt strode toward the hotel.
As the paramedic started work on pulling tiny shards of glass from her hands, all Sofie could think about was Rome.
Chapter Thirteen
Rome opened his eyes and groaned.
His head was throbbing, and his mouth was as dry as the desert. Where the hell was he? He smelled smoke and heard agitated voices, screaming.
Was he in Afghanistan? Libya? Had the mission gone bad? Was