Survive the Fire Read online

  Besides, Kate didn’t need his anger. He’d finally breached her icy reserve. She’d let down her guard and admitted her fear. Sobbed out her anguish in his arms. She needed tenderness and understanding. His heartbeat tripped. She’d begun to trust him, and he wouldn’t betray her trust.

  Should he try to advance the relationship forward? Or hang back and let her make the tactical decisions? He gritted his teeth. He’d never teetered on an uncertain tightrope over a woman before.

  Just Kate.

  “Shirley,” the short, plump lady called. “Get a picture of the dog.” She pointed to Murphy, immobile at Liam’s feet.

  “Rin Tin Tin!” The two women walked closer. “Isn’t he realistic, though? I can almost see him breathing.” Peering through thick lenses, Shirley inspected Liam. “Stars and garters! Forget the mutt, Jean. Check out the stud muffin.”

  “What a pretty pirate. I wonder who he’s supposed to be?”

  “The brochure said this was a ‘hands-on’ experience.” Shirley uttered an impish chuckle as she took photos with her phone. “I wouldn’t mind a handful of that.”

  Liam bit his cheek to contain a snicker. Though the mission would be goatfucked if they were discovered, the scenario was too ludicrous. Watch those grabby mitts, grandma. Or you’re in for a big surprise.

  Shirley’s attention riveted on the four-poster bed. “My memory isn’t what it used to be, but I sure don’t recall Rhett catching Scarlett doing the mattress mambo with Errol Flynn.”

  “Mercy!” Jean huffed as the women hurried to the display. “What sort of museum is this?”

  Clearly the more urbane of the two, Shirley snapped a selfie with Rhett. “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, dear.”

  Liam slid a glance sideways at Kate. Her shoulders trembled with suppressed mirth and bright laughter danced in her warm brown irises. Moisture flooded his eyes with the effort to curb his own chuckles. Jesus, if his brothers heard about this, they’d razz his ass until doomsday.

  Shirley peeked into the next room. “Eminem! Let’s get selfies of us kissing him! We’ll tell Willa and Bonnie back at Sunset Village that he was the real deal!”

  “Ooh! They’ll be so jealous!” Tittering, the ladies left.

  A whoosh escaped Kate. Giggling, she doubled over. “If that woman had grabbed your butt ...”

  Letting his chuckles loose felt great. “Manager Snippy would be searching for a defibrillator.” He snapped his fingers at Murphy and glanced out the doorway. The nighttime crowd had crammed the museum’s entrance. Good. More bodies upped the odds of successful evade and escape. “Too many people around to attempt a bypass of the emergency exit alarms. We’ll try a covert exfiltration out the front.”

  Sin City tourists expected spectacle, and nobody paid attention to their period clothing as they wound through the mob of sightseers. Kate gazed at Murph. “I’m amazed by how still Murphy sat. He didn’t even twitch.”

  He gave his partner a fond glance. “Murph knows his stuff. He has to freeze on command, or we could both go boom.”

  Yeah, yeah, I’m not just another pretty muzzle. Murphy sniffed. Rin Tin Tin, my tail feathers.

  They cautiously approached the main entrance. Liam scowled. The manager lurked near the front doors, greeting folks. Had Lady Luck gone into a snit tonight? With a head case on the loose and three bombs threatening Vegas, he needed every iota of good fortune.

  He slid his arm around Kate’s waist, halting her midstride. “Watch for an opportune moment,” he whispered.

  Vibrating with tension, she nodded. Trying to blend, they waited behind the shifting crowd. Eventually, the manager stalked to the far end of the foyer.

  “Go for it.”

  Arm in arm, they strolled out the doors.

  Just as they reached the archway to the Rialto Bridge, the manager’s nasal shout rang out. “Halt! You two! Come back here!”

  Liam glanced over his shoulder and saw the guy running toward them. “Not in this lifetime, buddy.” Liam grabbed Kate’s hand. “Time to bug out.”

  They zigzagged through the throng with the manager screeching behind them, “Thieves! I’m calling the cops!”

  “I am the cops,” Liam muttered.

  When they hit the moving sidewalk that traveled over the Rialto Bridge, Kate stumbled, but Liam kept her on her feet.

  “You haven’t truly lived until you’ve jogged on a moving sidewalk wearing an antebellum ball gown,” she panted.

  “Pass. Petticoats are itchy.” Worried about Murphy managing the Travellator, he looked to his left. Doing fine. Hundreds of hours of obstacle course practice had paid off. Murphy loved “chase.” Though usually, the dog was the one in hot pursuit.

  Their eyes met, and Murph gave him a toothy grin. Havin’ some fun now, buddy!

  “Security!” the manager screamed. “Stop those two!”

  “As persistent as a damn monkey on a cupcake. Can’t shake him loose.” Liam towed Kate around knots of gawking onlookers. He used the safety-tipped sword in his right hand to encourage slowpokes—snort—to get out of his way.

  He glanced back again as three uniformed security guards joined the chase. “The more, the merrier.”

  Kate looked behind them. “Should we stop and explain?”

  He yanked her along faster. “And they’ll believe us why? The damn local precinct will get involved, and we’ll be snafued in red tape for hours. Besides, Abby Normal said no publicity.”

  They charged into the second floor of the Venetian Hotel, connected to Madame Tussaud’s by the bridge. With seconds to spare, they piled into an elevator. Liam punched the button for the main floor. He pivoted Kate to the back wall and blockaded her view of Murphy. Luckily she was too busy gasping for air in the tight bodice to notice she was in a confined space with the dog.

  Liam sure as hell noticed he was in a confined space with Kate. As her chest heaved, the gown framed a mound of tempting, about-to-spill over cleavage. The scalding memory of her soft, naked breasts pillowed against his chest jolted his system, and he whipped his gaze to the ceiling. Damned inconvenient to run away from hot pursuit while packing a boner. Hellfire, anytime she was in the same hemisphere, he got hard. He slapped the sword against his thigh and focused on the sting.

  Thankfully, the descent was fast. The elevator spewed them out into the lobby, and Kate pulled his hand. “This way!” Since she seemed set on a destination, he let her take point.

  Moments later, a second elevator pinged open and heavy boot steps thundered down the marble hallway behind them.

  “In here.” Kate blasted through an unmarked doorway around the corner from the check-in counter.

  Baggage carts littered the room. “Where are we?”

  She indicated a large conveyor belt. “At the entrance to an interior tunnel. It transports hotel guests’ luggage to keep the hallways uncluttered.” She stabbed a button on the wall. The belt ground into motion. “All aboard.”

  “Jim!” A man bellowed outside. “Which way did they go?”

  “Murphy, hup!” The dog jumped onto the belt. Gathering Kate into his arms, Liam followed. He barely pulled her prone in time to avoid banging their heads as they chugged past a rubber flap and into the tunnel. The enclosure was another tight fit, about four feet square.

  “Dammit!” A male voice shouted. “They’re not in here. Check the corridor on the other side of the fountain.” A door banged, then the belt slid them too far into the tunnel to hear.

  Side by side on the moving conveyor, Liam looked at Kate, snug in his embrace. “And a good time was had by all.” She laughed, and he hugged her. “How did you know about this?”

  “When my father won the contract to supply the hotel’s cleaning products, the owner invited us for a tour and lunch.” She grinned, making his heart flip. He’d ensure she had reason to smile more often. “There’s also a gigantic boiler under here. Aubrey was fascinated with everything. It was a fun day.”

  “And happily for us, informative.
” He glanced around the rapidly dimming tunnel. “Where does it lead?”

  “To a centrally located area in the basement where the bags are collected and disbursed to individual floors.”

  He stared into her luminous eyes, mere inches from his. “The second time you’ve come to my rescue today.”

  “Merely returning the favor.” Her mouth curved in a grateful smile. “What would I have done without you today?”

  As they chugged along and descended into total darkness, the awful truth crashed into him.

  She would have died.

  Compensating for lack of sight, his other senses sharpened. Painfully aware of the woman in his arms, he knew the instant realization hit. She jerked, stiffened. “Without you ...” she choked. “The car bomb would’ve killed me.”

  “But it didn’t.” He urged her closer, delighted when she slid her arms around his neck and nestled into him. Her breath teased his lips, and her summer meadow scent enveloped him. “Do you believe in destiny?”

  “What exactly do you mean by destiny?”

  “I believe that we’re all born with a specific amount of time allotted by the Big Guy.” He stroked the dainty contour of her ear, and she shivered. “I have a healthy amount of fear, but don’t flip out over each bomb. It’s either gonna end me, or not.” He shrugged. “I could get creamed by a bus on the way to pick up Kung Pao chicken for Murph.”

  “You think we were brought together today as part of a higher plan?”

  “Not just today. Maybe it all started two years ago. Because your number’s not up. We have places to go. A mission to complete.” As the conveyor rolled along, Liam traced her collarbone with his fingertips. His palm grazed the enticing swell of her breasts bared by the gown. Her breath hitched, and his body tightened.

  Skating on dangerous ice, boyo.

  Yet he couldn’t stop touching her. “We have psycho ass to kick.”

  “I wish I had your unwavering faith.”

  “Faith is merely the ability to trust in what you can’t see. I do it every day. So do you.” He brushed her cheek with his knuckles. Her fragrant skin was soft and delicate as a flower petal. “A lot of people don’t have the fortitude to pick up the pieces after a trauma like you suffered.”

  “I’m not anyone special.” Her voice wobbled. “I go one day at a time, and don’t expect too much.”

  “Don’t shortchange yourself.” Inhaling her essence, he gave in to the temptation to cruise his lips down her slender throat, where he remembered she was so sensitive. Was gratified when she laughed and squirmed, then trembled with need beneath his mouth. The same need that shook his very existence. “Life races by too fast,” he whispered, nipping the sensitive cord where her neck joined her shoulder. “Live every moment to the hilt.”

  She arched beneath his questing lips. Her reply was a breathless gasp. “I don’t know how anymore.”

  “I do.” Her fevered response to his touch hit him with a double whammy of dizzying power and fierce protectiveness. He longed to tuck her away in an ivory tower and keep her safe forever. He longed to strip off her clothes and bury himself in her tight, wet heat, to thrust into her until she relinquished all control. Until she climaxed, screaming his name.

  He took possession of her mouth. When her lips parted on a low moan, he sank into the silky warmth. Desire exploded. Incinerated rational thought. He skimmed a hand down her spine, cupped her bottom. She rocked her hips against him, wrenching a groan from his throat.

  She scrambled his circuits. Fired his blood. Made him ache.

  He moved lower, kissing the swell of her breasts. She gasped as his tongue delved, feasted on her sweetness. His words ground out husky with passion. “You have on too many clothes.” Engulfed in a white-hot haze, he struggled with the laces on the back of her dress. They tangled, and he groaned again. “No wonder those dudes in tights carried big-ass swords.”

  “Liam!” She murmured a shaky but insistent plea.

  “I know, babe.” He yanked at the knots. “I’ll get it undone if I have to use my teeth.”

  All he could think about was having her. Possessing her. Gifting her with such staggering pleasure that she wouldn’t be able to walk, talk, or see.

  He yearned to bind her to him...so she would never leave.

  He stole her mouth, stroking his tongue against hers. He loved the way she felt, the way she tasted. The way she smelled. Loved how her lush body melded into his as if she were made for him. He loved her intelligence and courage, and her loyalty to her undeserving family. He loved her artistic talent. Loved her quick, snarky wit.

  He surrendered the battle for self-control. Surrendered his heart.

  Surrendered his soul.

  Realization roared in his head, striking him deaf, blind, and senseless.

  I love her.

  The woman he’d unknowingly waited for his entire life.

  Shaking, he broke the kiss and buried his face in her neck. He couldn’t breathe. His heart pounded so hard it threatened to burst from his chest.

  God, he loved her. And if she chose to walk away from him after this was over, he couldn’t make her stay. He swallowed a choking lump of anguish.

  All too soon, he might be forced to let go of the only person he’d ever wanted to hold onto.

  “Liam!” Kate said insistently into his ear. “We’re at the end of the line.”

  Tell me something I don’t know.

  “Hey!” She tugged on his hair. “What’s wrong with you?”

  The sting jerked him back to reality. He looked up and saw a large room piled with luggage. The conveyor belt had spilled him and Kate halfway out onto a platform and then stopped with their lower bodies still in the tunnel. He scrubbed a trembling hand over his jaw. “I’ve lost my damned mind.”

  “It’s okay. You had company.” Her breathing was ragged, and she was quivering. She gave him a crooked smile. “We both got carried away. Again. Sheathe your sword, Lucky Charmer.”

  He’d better keep his damned head in the game. Or his ass was grass, and Stalker Boy would be the lawnmower.

  He fell back on humor, his defense against life’s ambushes. “Don’t tempt me to sheathe my sword, wench.”

  Laughing, she sat up and attempted to smooth her tousled hair. Her glance flew past him. Her chuckles died. “Um ... is Murphy doing what I think he’s doing?”

  Murphy had exited the conveyor ahead of them. Sitting rigid as a statue, the dog stared at the opening from which they’d halfway emerged. His nose was pointed, his ears stiff.

  The hair on the back of Liam’s neck prickled. The dog’s shrewd gaze connected with his. Yeah, partner, while you were nuzzling your female, I was on the job.

  “Kate, don’t move.” On his back, Liam slid past the rubber flap and into the tunnel again. He glanced up at the roof. “Fuck!”

  He eased out and stared at Kate’s stricken face, forcing his tone to convey steadiness he didn’t feel. If she panicked, they were dead. “Want the good news or the bad?”

  “G-good.”

  “We just found one of the bombs. I think it’s the biggest one.”

  “That’s good?”

  “This one doesn’t fit the pattern. Psycho planted his earlier bombs in public arenas. This is his ace in the hole, he didn’t expect us to find it. The cocky SOB thinks we’re following his clues to Treasure Island. Now I have a chance to disarm this device before he’s aware we’ve located it. And buy us a lot of extra time.”

  “Wonderful.” She gulped. “What’s the bad?”

  “We’re next to the boiler.” He inhaled deeply as the pressing weight of thousands of lives settled on his shoulders. “If this monster blows, it’s gonna wipe out the entire block.”

  * * *

  Horror assaulted Kate as the room whirled. “Maybe we should at least try to evacuate the hotel and casino?”

  “If Psycho sees a mass exodus, he’ll detonate. No time to get everyone to safety.”

  Comforted by the resolv
ed composure in his voice, she drew a fortifying breath. “What do you want me to do?”

  Liam slowly rose from the conveyor belt and patted Murphy. “Good boy. You did good, Murph. Stand down.” The dog’s vigilant posture relaxed and he licked Liam’s hand.

  Liam tugged a Swiss Army knife from his front pocket. “Search the bags, see if you can find a steady light source.” He strode to the door. “Duct tape, wire strippers, and a blast suit would be handy, too.”

  “Right.” She unzipped a suitcase. “What are you doing?”

  “Jamming the door lock against unexpected company.”

  “What if we have to get out in a hurry?”

  “If that scenario arises, we’re already screwed.”

  He returned to the tunnel, while she rifled through strangers’ luggage. “Jackpot!” She set aside several paperbacks on how to win at games of chance. “A book light.”

  “Great.” His voice was muffled. “Bring it.”

  “One more bag.” She dug deep. “Hey, duct tape! It’s pink, but...” She dumped out an eye-opening assortment. “Whoooo. If you need whips, cuffs, a freakin’ gallon bottle of pineapple-flavored lube, or geez, a deeply personal dual massage, we’re loaded.”

  His laugh rolled out of the tunnel. “Sin City, babe.”

  She carried the book light and tape to the tunnel entrance. “Here’s the loot.”

  “Climb in with me. I need extra hands.” His arm reached out to guide her. “Slide in on your back. Don’t touch the walls.”

  Doubt taunted her. “I only have one hand to lend.”

  “I can’t do this without you.” His taut declaration hummed with significance, which she didn’t have time to analyze.

  Flat on her back and plastered close to his side in the confined area, she stared at the lethal tangle of wires bristling from the tunnel’s roof. Greasy dread churned her stomach. “It’ll end fast, right? We won’t feel anything?”

  “I won’t let you down.” Liam turned his head and held her gaze. “I won’t let you die.” He brushed a gentle kiss across her brow. “We’re gonna neutralize this bomb. Then neutralize the whacko who built it.”