Total Surrender

by Rebecca Zanetti

“Who can’t Chance leave?” Piper muttered.

  Jory ignored her, scrambling through the contents.

  “Jory—” She gasped when he grabbed two paper clips and a piece of gum, shaking out the gum and keeping the foil. “You’re kidding me,” she muttered, wanting to keep fighting but suddenly curious.

  He unbent a clip against his jean-clad leg and shoved it into the keypad with his free hand. A twist of the foil around the other clip, and he shoved that in, too. Then he pushed them together.

  A spark flew, and metal singed. The locks engaged again—this time permanently.

  Piper’s mouth dropped open. “You’re freakin’ MacGyver.”

  “Best television show ever.” Jory turned and continued down his path, squiring them through two more doorways—with her card.

  Damn it. She needed to fight. Panic heated down Piper’s throat. She jerked her elbow back and into his ribs. Hard.

  He didn’t even flinch, his even footsteps more frightening than if he’d started running.

  “Let me go.” She pulled to the side and tried to nail him in the throat with her elbow.

  He ducked and held her closer. “Where are we?” he muttered, shoving open one last door to the outside parking lot.

  Bellows echoed behind them, and glass shattered. Good. The soldiers were at least through one door and would be there soon. She screamed, long and loud.

  “Damn it.” Jory pivoted and easily tossed her over his shoulder, loping into a jog. Seconds later, he shoved her inside a battered Ford truck just as soldiers poured from the building, guns out and already firing. “Shit.” Jory ducked and yanked the door shut, ripping wires out and rubbing them together.

  A bullet shattered the back window.

  Piper cried out and ducked, scrambling for the passenger-side door. Jory jerked her arm and tugged her flat, her head in his lap. “Stay down. They have fire orders, and it won’t matter if they hit you.” His voice remained flat and calm.

  Why the hell wasn’t he freaking out? Soldiers were shooting at them. Even if he was a trained assassin, surely he could feel fear, or at least have some sort of a physical reaction. The side window blew open, and glass rained down. Jory curled over her body, protecting her from jagged shards, just as the engine engaged. His thigh tensed, and suddenly the truck jumped forward. He grimaced while propelling the truck out of the lot.

  “Where are we?” he asked, his hands turning the wheel as more bullets ripped into metal around them.

  “Outside of Salt Lake City,” she whispered, biting her lip to keep from screaming as glass cut into her side.

  He snorted. “No kidding. Perfect timing, too.”

  It was about rush hour. “We’ll get caught in traffic. Please, Jory, turn yourself back in. They won’t stop coming for you.” God, she had to get out of the truck. Who the hell was this man? Even now, he maneuvered the truck quickly, expertly turning the wheel, not even breathing heavy. “How are you so calm?”

  “Training.” He jerked the wheel, and the truck careened sideways, pressing her cheek into his groin. She tried to move. “Not yet.” One heavy hand landed gently on her nape, holding her in place. “They’re in pursuit, and they’ll fire.” He leaned to the side and glanced out the window as they drove wildly.

  After what seemed like an hour, but was really probably only half that, Jory grabbed an old shirt from the floor and wiped off all the blood. Soon, the sounds of honking horns and engines filtered through the air. They were in the city. Finally, Jory spoke again. “How far is the main compound?”

  She snapped her lips closed. If he thought she’d help him, he was crazy.

  The hand on her neck flexed in warning. “How far?” he repeated.

  “Bite me.”

  A wisp ripped through the air, and metal impacted the truck with a fierce screech. “Shit.” Jory slammed the brakes, his hand keeping her head from smashing the steering wheel. “Missiles. Get out.” Grabbing her under the armpits, he leaped from the vehicle just as it exploded.

  CHAPTER

  8

  HEAT SMOLDERED ALONG Jory’s face as he kept hold of Piper and hustled through the gathering crowd, the burning truck behind them. The bastards hadn’t cared if they’d killed her. She stumbled along next to him, her face slack with shock.

  He probably had less than a minute before she freaked out completely. The missile had been too close, and he hoped to shit nobody had been hurt by the blast.

  She felt fragile under his arm, and her scent surrounded them. His mind measured steps and precision, while his body tuned into woman.

  All woman.

  Without missing a stride, he filtered through the sounds. Running feet, com-links, guns cocking. Two soldiers left behind to watch the police and run interference if necessary. Six more soldiers fanning out. They moved with confidence, no doubt sure they could overcome one escaped prisoner and a captive.

  The soldiers had no clue who he was or what he could do. For that matter, neither did the commander.

  Jory shoved through the crowd, holding Piper tight. She brought out something in him, something new. Powerful and intense. He’d have to figure out what later.

  Up ahead, he caught sight of an entrance to the mall. Good. Crowds, corners, and cover. Tightening his hold on the trembling woman, he all but carried her across the sidewalk and around a wide fountain, calculating the most likely route through the mall to a parking area.

  Sirens trilled in the distance, and he ducked them into a mall. His grip on Piper’s arm both contained her and kept her upright. One glance at the kiosk, and he memorized the layout. Keeping his head down, he put her on the escalator in front of him, guarding her back just in case.

  They’d have to go through him to get to her, and they wouldn’t come close. His focus narrowed, and his chin lowered. Like the creation they’d spawned, he allowed instinct and intellect to take over.

  To protect. To defend. Ingrained in his DNA and then his training, the power of a warrior surged through him.

  Soldiers poured into the main entrance. A quick ride up, and he ushered her toward the southern exit, where he glanced around.

  A sharp breeze cut into his face.

  Piper lifted her head, her eyes focusing. She stilled and jerked against his hold.

  A young mother with two toddlers hustled toward the entrance, their heads ducked to avoid the wind. Piper sucked in air.

  If she screamed, they were screwed.

  Jory pivoted and put her against the wall, covering her mouth with his before she could let out a sound.

  Warmth and woman. An electric shock flared his entire nervous system alive. Soft and sweet, she breathed in as he pressed against her. He’d meant to subdue her, to throw her off balance, but shock ricocheted through him.

  Need compelled him. He shot both hands into her hair, tilting her head so he could go deeper. So fucking deep he could get lost.

  The second he tasted her, all cinnamon and woman, hunger slaked him. Devastating in its intensity, a demand he couldn’t deny. Her smooth, velvety lips softened under his, and for once, he lost himself.

  Strands of her silky hair caressed his hands as he held her jaw, nearly lifting her up to meet his mouth. There was nothing but getting… more.

  She stilled against him, her mouth parting. He swept his tongue against hers, taking in a primitive claim too powerful to deny.

  Her gasp mingled with his low groan. She pressed harder against him, her mouth curving under his, and he forgot… everything. Who he was, where they were, the fire and danger. Only the woman against him, warm and willing, sweet and sexy, filled his mind.

  He clasped her tight, forgetting any gentleness. Any seduction, any mission. Only this woman and this moment mattered. Letting go of himself, he allowed the creature inside, the one so rarely let loose, to take over. To push deep, to demand more. To take.

  And give everything.

  His mouth overtook hers, memorizing every groove, every small nuance. His free hand gripped
her butt, hauling her up against his steel-hard erection. Heat from her core nearly dropped him to his knees. Pain and sparking pleasure flared along his skin, and he deepened the kiss, tightening his hold.

  He needed to get inside her. Now.

  A siren trilled on the lower street, and he jerked his head free.

  Danger.

  She blinked, her eyes the green of a rain-filled meadow. Desire burned there, hot and bright. Somehow sweet.

  Possessiveness gripped him with a chokehold. One kiss. One kiss and she’d changed him. He had to get her out of the parking lot before guns fired again.

  That quickly, realization crossed her face. Then shock, as she tried to take a step back. Her hands rose and shoved against his chest.

  Denial gripped him to be quickly quashed with cold, hard training. So he grabbed her wrists and hauled her closer, his face lowering to hers. He wiped away any expression and shoved down all emotion. “Those men don’t care who they shoot. They’re scrambling and might kill you—or innocent bystanders.” He spoke low, commanding.

  She blinked, her mouth opening but no sound coming out.

  “If you fight me, they’ll find us, and they might shoot. Collateral damage doesn’t mean a thing to them.”

  She shook her head and looked around.

  He pulled her closer and lowered his voice to pure, no-bullshit command. “We’re getting in that four-door Jeep, and we’re leaving here quietly. Your only choice is alert or unconscious? Decide now.” He let conviction ring in his tone. If he believed he could knock her out, then she’d believe it, too.

  No fucking way could he knock her out. Scaring her held little appeal, but he didn’t have a choice if they were to both live through the night.

  She quickly nodded. Gulping air, she relaxed her body as two teenagers giggled while walking by.

  He knew full well she agreed to keep bystanders safe and not because the kiss had changed anything for her. She had no reason to trust him, and she’d never really know him. Why that pierced his chest with the cleanness of a sharpened dagger, he’d figure out later. For now, they had to run.

  Piper clenched her knees together and bit back a scream as Jory careened the vehicle around a post and darted into traffic. She’d thought the safest course of action was to leave the bystanders unaware behind them, but what if Jory crashed into a car? “Slow down,” she hissed. Horns blared behind them.

  “Put on your seat belt.” He dodged around a minivan and took a ninety-degree-angle turn down an alley. His hands rested loosely on the steering wheel, while his shoulders remained down and relaxed.

  As they fled for their lives. The guy couldn’t be human. Yet he sure kissed like a man. Her lips still tingled, and desire lay barely controlled in her abdomen.

  He’d kidnapped her, and yet… damn he could kiss. What in the hell had she been thinking? Her entire body had flared alive, while her brain had just shut down.

  While his hold had been tight, dominant—there was no question she’d kissed him back.

  Her father’s enemy. A man who’d betrayed his country and his soldier brothers.

  What was wrong with her?

  Even now, minutes later hurtling through traffic, her body hummed in full alertness next to his. Completely in tune with every movement he made.

  But something was seriously off with him. He was too fast, too in control, way too damn smart. His MacGyver move with the keypad had been incredible—and his reflexes unbelievable. No military training, no matter how intense, was that complete.

  She clutched the dash, and the car whipped around a taxi. The cabbie hit his horn, the sound yanking her out of her head.

  “Just let me out.” She scrambled for the door handle, throwing her shoulder into the window. No way was she dying in the old SUV.

  “No.” Not even glancing her way, he reached out and yanked her into his hard body while executing a perfect turn into one-way traffic. Warmth and the scent of male washed over her. “Hold still.”

  Her nipples pebbled. God. She punched him in the ribs, trying to scoot her butt back across the seat.

  “Piper.” A calm warning.

  He swerved, and a woman walking a gaggle of dogs jumped back, screaming, her face contorting. A Pomeranian leaped onto the back of a Great Dane, and the Dane shot in front of a moving bicycler, his teeth baring. The guy on the bike flew over the handlebars and landed on an apple green Volkswagen Bug. He flipped off Jory.

  They were going to die. Piper gulped in air. Sparks flickered up her back, and her ears rang. Energy rushed through her, and she pummeled Jory’s side, her vision fuzzing. Garbled words flew from her mouth, and she didn’t even try to stop the tirade.

  If he didn’t slow down, they’d die. She screamed high and loud. Black spots danced in front of her vision.

  Jory sighed, his hand sliding down her arm and around her torso to clasp her wrists in a hard hug. In a movement so smooth it didn’t seem real, he lifted a knee into her leg, pulled up, and effectively twisted her onto her back. Her head hit his iron-hard thigh, and he jerked her head toward his door, his hand flattening hers to her chest, immobilizing her.

  She blinked up at the steering wheel. Her mouth opened and closed. The worn leather cooled her back. How had he done that? No way would she let him control her in such a way.

  She twisted her head, trying to get purchase to bite, while kicking the passenger-side door with ineffectual thumps. Damn tennis shoes.

  “Mellow out before I accidentally hit somebody,” Jory muttered.

  The man held her too tightly for her to gain leverage. Panting, she settled, staring up at his cut jaw. This close, lines of tension cut into the sides of his mouth, leading down to rigid muscles along his corded neck. So he was affected. Thank God. She was starting to wonder if the commander had created some sort of rabid half-robot soldiers.

  “Jory, you can’t outrun them.” Her voice shook, but she spoke softly, trying to reach the man that had to be inside this guy. The man who’d kissed her with enough passion to burn them both where they stood. “They’ll have air support soon.”

  He nodded and turned the wheel again. “In about an hour. Plenty of time.”

  Unfortunately true. “I’m just slowing you down. Let me go.”

  His gaze lifted to the rearview mirror. “You don’t get it, do you? Those men were shooting at you, too.”

  She shook her head, static electricity popping her hair against his shorts. “No, they weren’t. They were trying to take out the vehicle, and you know it. My father wouldn’t hurt me.”

  “The commander is a monster who’d hurt anybody and everybody to get what he wants.”

  Her breath heated and her chest tightened. “What is it he wants?” Yeah, she really wanted to know.

  “Right now? Me.” Jory’s jaw relaxed. “Once we get to safety, I promise I’ll let you go.”

  Sure he would. Right after he turned her over to the Russians. Or whoever he had yet to contact. A scream tried to rise from her gut, and she shook her shoulders to hold it in. “Vodka isn’t my thing. Just let me go.”

  He chuckled. “I’m not aligned with the Russians, and you have nothing to worry about.”

  “I’ve seen your file.” If she could just get him to relax his hold, she could grab the wheel.

  “What file?” He frowned and jerked the wheel to the left. A horn honked.

  She blinked up at him, her back tensing. “Your entire military file, starting when you joined the organization. Even the proof of your betrayal with pictures.”

  He snorted. “Sounds like a nice plant. How hard did you have to hack?”

  Damn hard, actually. Yet his calmness in the face of her proof gave her pause. “So you’re denying perfect proof?”

  “Is any proof perfect?” He ducked his head to stare up at the quiet sky.

  She tried to move her hands without any luck. “You’re saying somebody actually went to the trouble to plant that file and make it nearly impossible to find just in ca
se I started to investigate you?”

  “Sure.” He glanced down at her. “Could Chance plant a file like that?”

  Well, yeah. So could she. “No.” When those gray eyes narrowed on her, she fought the urge to squirm, considering where her head currently lay.

  “Right.” Jory lifted his head back to the window.

  “Where are we going?” Her jaw ached from her muscles tightening. She wasn’t strong enough to break his hold, damn it.

  “I need to reach, my, ah, group.”

  She bent her knees to relieve the pressure in her lower back. “Who’s your group?” More important, what would they do to her? A chill slithered down her spine.

  “They’re good men, and I’ll contact them as soon as we’re out of the city and hidden from the air support.” He cocked his head to stare up at the sky again. “What I need from you is agreement and obedience. Temporarily, of course.”

  Her head snapped back. She may have to kill him. “I’m neither agreeable nor obedient. Sorry, pal.”

  His lip quirked. “I figured.”

  The sounds of the city slowly dissipated. Piper bit back a scream. “Did you lose them?”

  “Yes.” He turned the wheel again, drove around a worn-out gas station, and cut the engine. “Any chance you’ll cooperate with me?”

  “Of course,” she said as sweetly as she could, fury banishing the fear. Finally.

  “Humph.” With masculine grace, he opened his door, pulled her out, and tossed her over his shoulder. Her ribs impacted solid muscle, and the breath whooshed from her lungs.

  Ow. She blinked and took a second to get her bearings. Drawing in cool air, she opened her mouth to bellow for help… and the world spun. She ended up coughing as Jory yanked open the driver-side door of a rickety old Chevy and dropped her on the seat. A spring poked her in the ass. Fire lancing her blood, she punched him as hard as she could in the thigh.

  He leaned over, calmly tore free the driver’s seat belt, and wound the strong strap around her wrists, knees, and ankles. She squirmed, kicked, and tried to hit him. Where did he get such strength? The man was unreal.

  Her gaze darted around only to see overgrown grass and abandoned tires. A cricket chirped in the distance. With a hiss, she tried to throw a shoulder at him.