B008AZB1XW EBOK by Monique Martin Read Free Book Online Page A

lobby was a knot of uniforms, expensive suits and stylish dresses. No hoi polloi here.
    Simon led Elizabeth to a relatively quiet corner and put down their suitcase. She was glad for the break. They hadn’t walked very far, and yet, her sensible shoes were doing unpleasant things to her feet. She managed to slide out of one just a touch and wiggle her foot to get the blood flowing again.
    “Wait here,” Simon said. “I’ll see what I can do about a room.”
    Elizabeth looked at the crush of people near the front desk. It didn’t look promising. “Good luck,” she said and watched him navigate his way through the crowd.
    “He’s gonna need it,” a voice said behind her with what was clearly not a British accent. It sounded mid-western.
    Elizabeth turned around and saw, leaning against one of the marble columns, a man in a dark gray suit lighting a cigarette. He slipped the lighter into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pack of Lucky Strike and offered her one.
    “No, thank you,” Elizabeth said.
    The man took a deep drag of his cigarette, put the pack away and blew the smoke toward the ceiling. He was nice looking and the sort who knew it too, but not in an “I’m too sexy for your air-raid” sort of way, just a casual confidence. He had a square jaw, short black hair and a dark complexion. He was, literally, tall, dark and handsome. “You’re American. It’s nice to see a fellow Yank.”
    She’d only been gone from America for a few days, but hearing his accent was strangely comforting. Little familiar things must have meant so much to the soldiers who were away from home for years at a time. Elizabeth smiled and tried to get her rogue shoe back on.
    He held out his hand. “Name’s Jack Wells. Chicago.”
    He seemed genuine enough and he had a nice smile. Her two litmus tests for people were their handshakes and their smiles. He passed on both counts. “Elizabeth We—…Cross. Elizabeth Cross. Texas.” She was really going to have to get used to saying it.
    “Newlywed?” he asked, as he leaned back against the pillar. “Hell of a place for a honeymoon.”
    “Simon and I, well, it’s sort of family business.” The shoe was getting away from her now. She tried to look casual as she reached out with her toe to drag it back. “We’re only here for a little while.”
    “Aren’t we all?” he said, his smile fading just around the edges.
    The sincerity and hint of pain in his voice made her forget the shoe for an instant and that was all it took. A large group of men passed by and the one in the lead stepped on her sensible shoe and took a header right onto the plush oriental carpet. What happened next was a blur. The man on the ground rolled over and pulled a long-nosed pistol from beneath the huge pile of medals on his chest and pointed it right at her. Before she had a chance to react three of the other men had stepped between them and leveled ugly and enormous sawed-off shotguns right at her head.

Chapter Six
    Elizabeth’s arms shot up over her head in the most immediate surrender ever. “I’m sorry!”
    The men with the guns were shouting at her in some language she didn’t recognize. The one she’d tripped had been helped up and was in turn yelling at them and waving his pistol around like he was going to shoot out every light in the room. People near them chattered in excitement. Next to her, Jack had his arms raised too, but he looked incredibly unconcerned and maybe even a little amused.
    The one she’d tripped looked like something out of a Mel Brooks movie, which would have been hilarious if her heart weren’t lodged in her throat. Her life, which was more of a short than a feature, flashed before her eyes. The man jabbed his gun toward her and berated one of the men at his side. The large golden starburst medals on his chest dangled from ribbons almost as bilious as his uniform. Epaulets the size of dinner plates with long fringe shook as he straightened his back, re-holstered