Explosive Attraction - By Lena Diaz Page 0,18

How could he have gotten so wrapped up in her that he’d completely forgotten about the gunman?

Her eyes flashed at him and she pushed him away, holding on to the beam again. She looked as if she was ready to give him a furious lecture.

He clamped his hand over her mouth. He looked down toward the room below, then back at her, until her eyes widened with understanding. He slowly eased the pressure of his hand against her mouth, then held a finger in front of his lips, letting her know to be quiet.

When she nodded, he half turned on the beam and pointed to the far end, waving for her to follow him.

She blinked as if only just then realizing where they were. When she didn’t move, he grabbed hold of the beam above his head, and maneuvered himself until he was sitting on the beam behind her. He reached down and caressed her bottom. The moment his hand touched her, she jerked and began to crawl across the beam toward the far wall. He gritted his teeth, not at all flattered that she found his touch so distasteful.

Her fears froze her in place twice again, and each time, he ran his hand lightly across her bottom, shocking her into moving forward. By the time they reached the wall, he was hard and aching. This was a heck of a place and time for him to realize that Dr. Darby Steele had a smoking-hot rear end.

At the far wall, she clung to one of the crossbeams, her eyes closed, her entire body shaking.

Sympathy curled inside him. Something terrible must have happened to give her such a deep-seated fear of dark, enclosed places. He pressed his lips next to her ear. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you to climb into this ceiling. But it’s almost over now. All we have to do is drop down onto the stairwell landing and we’re home free. Okay?”

And just like that, she was gone again. She’d retreated back inside herself, her mind blocking out her fears, taking her to a place where she was safe.

Rafe listened intently. He hadn’t heard any sounds from below, or any creaking doors opening again, as he and Darby had worked their way across the beam. He hated going down into the stairwell blind, but he wasn’t about to sit and wait for gunfire to come strafing up from below, either. They were far too vulnerable and exposed up here.

Curling his fingers around the ceiling tile directly beneath the beam he was sitting on, he quietly lifted it. The landing below was all clear. But there wasn’t anything for him to use to climb down. He would have to lower Darby down first, then drop down after her.

He pulled her onto his lap. She didn’t react. She just gave him that same glassy stare she’d had before. He scooted forward and braced his legs on two crossbeams, with the opening in the ceiling centered between his thighs.

“I’m going to lower you down into the light,” he whispered. “No more dark, tight places, okay?”

She didn’t even blink.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, he cradled her in his arms and held her over the hole. He gently released her legs, then held her under her arms, carefully lowering her. He bent down as far as he could, sliding his hands to her biceps, then her forearms, until her feet were dangling just a few inches off the floor. Still, she didn’t move. Her breath came in short, choppy pants.

He hated to just let her go, but he had no choice. He released her hands, grimacing when she crumpled onto the concrete landing. He swung out over the opening and dropped down beside her, praying he hadn’t hurt her by letting go.

He started to pick her up when the door to the landing flew open. He shoved Darby behind him as a man stepped through the opening, gun in hand, pointed straight at him.

Jake.

Rafe sagged with relief. Had he and Darby been running from a fellow police officer this entire time?

“I’m sure glad it’s you.” Rafe grinned, but his smile faded when Jake remained silent and continued to point the gun at him.

“Jake?”

The sound of booted feet clomping up the stairs sounded from below. Jake and Rafe both looked over the railing. The SWAT team had finally arrived.

Jake gave Rafe an odd look, then holstered his gun. “Detectives Jake Young and Rafe Morgan are up here,” he called out. “This floor is