Page 11 of Better Watch Out
She grabbed her scarf, coat, and her purse, slinging it crossbody style. A shot of adrenaline coursed through her and she laughed thinking about the fool who might try to rob her. Picking up her phone, she sent Ryan a text, letting him know she changed her mind and would be staying in New York for the remainder of her scheduled trip.
Frannie marched out of her room on a mission and made it one step before crashing forehead-first into the firm chest of a man who apparently never skipped the gym for a Netflix binge on the couch. She craned her neck up, up, up, her wary gaze inching past an impressively thick neck to a sharp jawline softened just barely by the five-o’clock shadow that was seven hours premature. Everything about this man a touch away said imposing and lethal, especially those no-nonsense clear blue eyes trained on her.
Instinctively, she took a step back, only to knock her backside into the closed door to her hotel room. She was trapped between two walls, one made of wood and steel and the other of solid man.
“Oh, sorry.” Why was she apologizing? Darn Southern etiquette. She fumbled in her purse for her room key, her fingers finding the pepper spray instead.Back pocket. With one hand on the pepper spray, she reached the other into her back pocket and pulled out her key.
“Are you Frankie?”
Frannie jumped. Startled by the deep tenor of his voice and then by the fact that this stranger knew her name. How many times had Ryan told her about identity theft? Without answering, she let her gaze flash to his eyes before moving over his body. Broad shoulders filled out the black wool coat. His dark jeans, stylish chelsea boots, and lack of hotel name tag heightened the alarm resonating in her chest.
Hitman. Or mafia.
She’d seen a few mobster movies likeThe Godfatherand the goons always dressed to impress and this stranger was using his good looks to disarm her, but Ryan had warned her. Keeping her back to the wall so she could keep an eye on the man who had definitely perfected a handsome smolder as he stared back at her, she tried swiping her key card over the lock. The light flashed yellow and then red.Come on!
The man shifted, to scratch his nose or pull out a gun, she didn’t know, but she didn’t waste a second before whipping out the pepper spray. She’d barely pressed the button before the man, in one quick movement, side-stepped, grabbing her arm to redirect the short burst of spray away from them and into the hallway before knocking it from her hand.
“Let go of me!” Frannie tried for volume, hoping to gain the attention of other guests but immediately choked on an inhalation of breath. She hunched forward, coughing, her lungs and eyes burning so much she hardly noticed the man release her arm. She squeezed her eyes closed, but tears slipped down her cheeks as she continued to hack against the pungent spray.
“Why,” she wheezed between coughing fits, “are my eyes on fire?”
Her nose began to run and she tried wiping at her eyes except that only made them tear more, but she didn’t miss the low rumble of a chuckle. Was the stranger laughing at her? What kind of twisted game of torture was this?
“You need to get away from the fumes.”
Fingers skimmed her arm and she jerked backward, hitting her head against the wall.Great.Frannie didn’t need to be worried about a criminal in New York incapacitating her, she was doing a fine job herself. She strained to open her eyes, unsure if the heat flooding her cheeks was from embarrassment or if her skin was actually on fire. Through a teary gaze she found the stranger covering his nose and mouth, blue eyes squinting at her in something looking very close to an amused glare, if there was such a thing. “Go into your room,” he said through clenched teeth.
Was this guy high on eggnog? No way he was getting inside of her hotel room. She tried to see around his large frame but her vision was too blurry. How much line of sight did she need to have to run down a straight hall? Frannie coughed again, trying to clear her lungs so she could at least scream for help.
Giving her eyes one good squeeze, sending the tears flooding past her lashes before she forced her eyelids open, she was ready to make her run for it when the man spoke up again.
“Are you Frankie Frost?” he said through clenched teeth. If he was feeling the effects of the pepper spray, he was fighting hard not to show it. “Are you Ryan’s sister?”
Frannie stilled as a new sense of fear filled her. Had something happened to Ryan? “Who are you?”
“Andrew Bishop.” He cleared his throat. “Your brother asked me to take you to the airport.”
A tiny bit of relief washed over her but Ryan also had warned her that criminals were good at what they did and often used a little bit of knowledge to trick victims into trusting them. Wiping at her eyes, Frannie looked the guy over. “You’re an Uber driver?” But his answer, if he gave one, was covered by another burst of coughing as more tears now mixed with a good amount of snot ran down her face. She cringed. “Good grief, when does it stop burning?”
This time there was no mistaking the chuckle and she narrowed her blurry gaze on him. Or at least she tried. It was hard to know given she could barely open her eyes without them flooding with tears.
The man dipped his chin and then squatted to the ground where she’d set her room service tray outside her door. This was her chance to run. She’d seen his quick reflexes, so she’d have to be fast. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the red exit sign for the stairs.
“Put this over your eyes.”
His voice pulled her attention back to him. He extended a soggy napkin dripping with … was that creamer? She met his blue eyes, a new fear percolating in her chest.
Is he going to waterboard me with creamer?
The corner of his lips lifted but he didn’t laugh. “The fat in the creamer should alleviate the burning.”
Frannie squinted at the dripping napkin. “How do I know you didn’t just pour formaldehyde on there to take me out?”
The man exhaled. “Do you mean chloroform? Formaldehyde is what they use to preserve specimens.”
“Exactly what someone would know if they were going to kill me.” Why wasn’t she running? She should’ve been down the stairs and in the lobby calling the police. “That you know the difference only confirms my concern. I’ve seenCriminal Minds.”
Her vision was clear enough to see him roll his eyes before he patted his chest and coat pockets. “Seems I forgot to bring my spare bottles of chloroform and formaldehyde but the longer you let that pepper spray burn your eyes, the higher the chance of blindness.”
