Into the Crossfire Read Free

designer stubble sported by the guys working at the ad agency two doors
    down. No, this was a man with a heavy beard who didn't shave for weeks at a
    time.
    But beyond not following the yuppie dress and grooming code, Lowlife
    was different in other ways from all the other people in the building.
    She would never forget her first sight of him in the elevator, leaning onearmed against the wall, head down, looking like a warrior who had just come in
    10
    from battle.
    Only there was no war going on in downtown San Diego that she knew of.
    He'd disappeared into the office across the hall, passing some pretty fancy
    security, so she'd imagined he worked there.
    As an enforcer?
    She'd been aware of his scrutiny as she entered and exited her office. He
    never overtly stared, but she could feel his attention on her like a spotlight.
    Now, however, God help her, he was definitely staring, arms crossed over
    that absurdly broad chest, unsmiling, gaze fierce and unwavering.
    "Need some help?" he asked again. His voice matched his physique. Low,
    so deep it set up vibrations in her diaphragm.
    Then again, maybe the vibrations were panic.
    No key.
    This definitely wasn't happening. Not on top of the Ride from Hell in to
    work. Of all the days to lock herself out...
    "No, I'm on it." Nicole bared her teeth in what she hoped he'd take as a
    smile, because she so wasn't on it.
    What she didn't have--and what she so very desperately needed--was her
    office key. The office key on her Hermes silver key fob that had been a birthday
    present from her father, back in the days when he could work and walk on his
    own. The set of keys that was always, always, in the front pocket of her purse,
    except...when it wasn't.
    Like now.
    Nicole Pearce contemplated beating her head against the door to her office,
    but much as she'd like to, she couldn't. Not under Lowlife's dark, intense gaze.
    She'd save that for when he finally left.
    He watched as she once more checked her linen jacket pockets, first one,
    then the other, then her purse, over and over again, in a little trifecta routine from
    hell.
    Nothing.
    It was horrible having someone see her panic and distress. Life had taken so
    much from her lately. One of the few things left to her was her dignity, and that
    was now circling the drain, fast.
    She tried to stop herself from shaking. This was the kind of building where
    you keep up appearances and you never lose your cool, ever. Otherwise they'd
    raise the rent.
    It was so awful, fumbling desperately in her purse, sweat beading her face
    though the building's powerful air conditioners kept the temperature at a constant
    62 degrees. She could feel sweat trickling down her back and had to stop, close
    her eyes for a second and regain control. Breathe deeply, in and out.
    Maybe Lowlife would disappear if she just kept her eyes closed long
    enough. Realize that she deeply, deeply wanted him gone. Do the gentlemanly
    thing and just go.
    11
    No such luck.
    When she opened her eyes again, the man was still there. Dark and tough, a
    foot from the console she wanted to use.
    She looked at the slate floor and the transparent console and gritted her
    teeth.
    Of the two horrible choices, getting close to him to dump the contents of
    her purse on the console was marginally more dignified than simply squatting and
    dumping everything in her purse on the floor.
    Approaching him warily--she was pretty sure he wasn't dangerous, and that
    he wouldn't attack her in broad daylight in a public building, but he was so very
    big and looked so incredibly hard--she reached the pretty console, shifted the vase
    of lilies the super had changed just yesterday, opened her purse wide and simply
    upended it over the transparent surface.
    The clatter was deafening in the silent corridor.
    She had her home keys, car keys, a removable hard disk, a silver business
    card case, a cell phone, four pens, a flash drive--all of which made a clatter. And
    her leather bag of cosmetics,