Cynthia Eden - Glitter and Gunfire

He pulled her even closer.

Annoying.

“I told you to leave,” she gritted out through her locked teeth.

His lips twitched. “Um, you did. But I decided that I wanted to stay.”

He was moving easily, fluidly, a bit surprising for a man of his size. A solider who knew how to dance—and dance well, she realized, as he gave her a little spin and dip.

Her lips parted as she pulled in a quick breath. Then he was moving her again, leading her around the dance floor.

His gaze dropped to her mouth. It seemed to heat. “I think—” his voice was deep, rolling “—that you owe me an explanation.”

Her brows climbed. “What?” She didn’t owe him anything. They didn’t know each other. As soon as the dance ended, their association would end, too.

“Tell me about the EOD,” he said. Cassidy realized that he’d just used her trick. When he’d said those words, he’d put his lips right next to her ear and whispered his demand.

Only...had his lips pressed lightly against her ear? It felt as if they had. And his tongue. Had he...licked her? She certainly hadn’t...licked...him.

Had she?

Goose bumps rose on her arms. “I don’t need to tell you anything.”

Really, Mercer had stooped to this level? Sending a new babysitter after her? He’d promised the last agent was it. It looked like he’d broken another promise.

Same story, different day. She should have expected this from him.

“You think I work for something called the EOD,” the man told her. She pulled back, staring up at him. His hair was dark, thick, and her fingers were brushing against the nape of his neck.

Why were her fingers doing that? She immediately flattened them against the back of his tux.

“Shouldn’t you at least tell me what the EOD is?” he pressed.

Cassidy sighed. “Cut the act, okay? I’ve seen your dossier picture. I know you’re an agent.” That was how she’d first recognized him at the other party. She had a thing about faces. Once she saw one, she never forgot it.

Actually, there were quite a few things that she couldn’t forget.

His jaw hardened just a bit. “Well, I’m at a disadvantage—”

“Yes, you are,” she interrupted him, making sure that her voice stayed low so that none of the other dancers would overhear. “Because you’ve been sent down here for no reason. I don’t need you.”

The song ended. Thankfully. Blessedly.

She tried to pull away from him.

He didn’t let her go.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked.

“Yes,” she hissed. “I’m sure. I’m perfectly fine. This place is safe—”

A scream cut through the ballroom. At the high-pitched, desperate sound, everyone froze.

Cassidy’s blood iced. Genevieve. That had been her scream. She knew Genevieve’s scream.

Cassidy’s gaze flew to the right as she looked for her friend. There, near the staircase. One glance and Cassidy knew why her friend had screamed. Men in black—men wearing ski masks and armed with handguns—surrounded Genevieve. One man had a gun to her side. The other three men were fanning out, advancing toward the unarmed guests.

“Anyone moves,” the man holding Genevieve shouted, “I kill her.” No accent covered his words.

Cassidy’s breath heaved in her lungs. No, no, this could not be happening now. It shouldn’t be happening—not to Genevieve!

But it was happening. She was staring at a nightmare straight from her past. The armed men swept into the crowd.

And—

“Cassidy Sherridan!” the man holding Genevieve shouted. “We want her.”

Cassidy took a step forward.

Only to be halted by the man who was quickly becoming the bane of her existence.

“Too bad,” the EOD agent whispered—a whisper that reached only Cassidy’s ears. “Because I’m not letting them get you.”

He didn’t understand what was happening. She did. She was also more than ready to trade herself for Genevieve.

So while everyone else was frozen, she jerked away from the agent and called out, “You want me? I’m right here.”

The agent swore.

The masked man shoved Genevieve away and began closing in on Cassidy. His gun was aimed dead center at her chest.

Cassidy lifted her chin and waited.

Only in the next second she wasn’t staring at the gun. The EOD agent had grabbed her and pushed her behind him.

No!

“Don’t play hero,” the masked man snarled. “It’s a surefire way to end up dead.”

“That’s a chance I’ll take,” the agent drawled, letting his Texas accent slip in once more as he pulled out his own weapon. A gun she hadn’t even noticed when they’d been dancing.

The men in masks inched closer as everyone else in the room started to rush for the doors.

So much for everyone freezing. I’m the one they want.

And if tall, dark and handsome hadn’t just tried to be a white knight, the gunmen would have gotten her.

The EOD agent had just ruined her plans.

* * *

“FOUR MEN, ALL ARMED,” Logan Quinn murmured into his mouthpiece as he kept his eyes on the scene unfolding before him. His fingers tightened around the binoculars. He sure hadn’t been expecting the attack to be so public.

There were at least a hundred civilians in that ballroom. Some very well-connected civilians with pull in too many countries to count. If the gunmen started firing...

We can’t let that happen.

“It’s time for us to go in,” Logan said, knowing that the man listening to his comm feed would be ready to attack. Gunner Ortez was always ready.

Now, if Cale Lane would just get the pretty blonde out of harm’s way, then the Shadow Agents could attack.

* * *

“THERE ARE FOUR of us,” the gunman growled, “and only one of you. It’s a bad night to play hero.”

Cale kept his weapon up and ready. Chaos surrounded him, and while most of the people were running for any exit they could find, Cassidy hadn’t so much as budged an inch behind him. The woman should have fled for safety.

She also shouldn’t have offered herself up as a willing sacrifice. They’d deal with that part later.

After he got rid of the gunmen.

“What makes you so sure I’m alone?” Cale asked. The ballroom, with all of its windows that looked out over the city—well, it sure allowed plenty of people the opportunity to look back in. “Drop your weapons,” Cale ordered. “All of you—drop them while you still have the chance.”

Laughter. He’d expected that. They’d foolishly think that he was bluffing. They’d find out, too late, that he wasn’t.

The laughter died away. The guy’s finger began to tighten around the trigger as he took aim at Cale. “Mister, you’re dead.”

No, he wasn’t.

Cale shot his own weapon, firing right at the man in black. The two shots blasted almost simultaneously.

More screams. More shouts.

More chaos.

Cale grabbed Cassidy and rushed toward the exit—the back door that she’d tried to get him to take earlier. The gunman’s bullet had grazed his side, barely scraping him, while his own had sunk into the man’s right shoulder.

Aiming wouldn’t be so easy for the guy now.

“No!” Cassidy yelled as she dug in her heels. “Stop! I can’t leave!”

Yes, she could. Staying wasn’t an option for her. His mission—his assigned duty—was to protect her.

When she tried to break free of his grip and run back toward the gunman, Cale just held her tighter. Then he lifted her over his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” She kicked him, hard, her heels coming close to his new wound. “Let me go!”

Why? Hell, the woman must have a death wish.

Figured.

Gunfire exploded. Rat-a-tat. Ah, the sound he was so familiar with...only they weren’t in a jungle, and the civilians weren’t safe.