“Come here, pretty thing,” Jimmy coaxed the woman with a lecherous grin that revealed a missing tooth. He’d lost it in an infamous fight with his brother, who’d lost an ear when Jimmy had bitten it off. “Come on, sweet cheeks. Come here and show me your pretty dress.”

“If you think this dress is pretty, you need your eyes examined,” the woman said in an icy cultured voice. “And if you think I’m going to let you lay one sweaty, beefy paw on me, you need your head examined.”

Perfect. A back talker. She couldn’t just stand there all meek and compliant-like and let Kyle save the day. No, she had to egg on a crazy man, when anyone in her right mind could see that’s exactly the type of fight Jimmy was looking for.

Jimmy’s gun hand shook more noticeably now, and his eyes gleamed as he took another step, then another.

Two more and Kyle would be able to leap from the pedestal and jump him. End of crisis. “Jimmy, remember how you let the store clerk and the two other customers go outside? Why don’t you do the same for her?”

“No.” Jimmy licked his lips. “Look, Pinkie, I said get over here-”

“And I said-” But she broke off with a scream of outrage as Jimmy tripped off the first of three white satin steps toward her. Then she screamed again as Kyle leaped into the air.

Kept on screaming as she threw herself on top of Jimmy first, fists out and pummeling.

In midair Kyle let out one concise and particularly vicious oath. His original target was now covered with pink satin. He might have landed anyway-he didn’t care about crushing her-but he did care about the gun going off accidentally. He cared about that a lot, as he was rather fond of his own hide.

So he pulled back and landed painfully next to the now rolling duo. For a long, terrifying second he couldn’t see anything but obnoxious pink satin, so he reached out and pulled it free.

It came with a woman inside of it, fists flailing. Jimmy was coming to his feet and grappling to right his gun, so Kyle was forced to get a better grip on the screaming pile of satin and shove them both behind a counter. He took a fist to the chin for his efforts, and might have taken more if he hadn’t manacled her wrists with his hand.

“Cool it, I’m the good guy.”

A gunshot echoed directly above his head, and he swore again-silently this time-before grabbing the fumbling bundle of satin and crawling as fast as he could along the bottom of the counter.

“Let. Me. Go,” demanded the pink satin. She kicked out, nearly unmanning him.

“If I do, you’re going to get yourself killed. Now stop-Damn it!” She’d freed her face enough to lean in and bite him on the shoulder. With not a little amount of grim satisfaction, he shifted her, tossing her over that shoulder in a fireman’s hold, one hand hard on her backside, the other aiding his crawling efforts.

When she wriggled, trying to get into position to bite him again, he simply tightened his grip on her butt, which he could feel through all her layers, and it was a very nice butt indeed. Finally, with considerable effort, and no thanks to her, he got them to the other side of the room, where he paused, listening.

Dead silence.

Not good. Then, suddenly, another gunshot rang out, halfway between where he held the Lady In Pink and where they had started out.

Good, he thought grimly. Jimmy had no idea where they were. Behind them, and only five feet away, were aisles upon aisles of long, flowing white wedding dresses, behind which he hoped and prayed was a back door.

Crouching down, he dumped his load on the floor, staring in fascination as the satin righted itself and a face appeared. A very furious female face. Her mouth opened, and at the speed of light, he put his hand over it, not wanting her to risk their lives by lighting into him right now.

But oddly enough, she didn’t try to speak.

Her eyes however-the most interesting shade of gold he’d ever seen-spit daggers at him. He held her utterly still and looked away, trying to figure out Jimmy’s location. He could hear nothing, except Pink’s movements. He knew she wanted to tell him something.

Too bad. She could wait.

He cocked his head and listened again. Where could Jimmy have gone? There was no sign of him.

If he lived through this, he was going to kill Kevin.

Then pain erupted in his fingers.

Pink had bitten him! Whipping his head toward her, he fought the urge to bite her back.

She pointed to the opposite side of the store, where he just caught a whisper of a footstep.

Jimmy. Probably figuring they’d gotten all the way across. He was blocking their exit out the front door, but they weren’t going to go out the front door. Ignoring his throbbing fingers, he nudged the woman, directing her with a toss of his head toward the rows and rows of dresses.

She shook her head.

He pointed firmly.

Again, she shook her head.

Unbelievable. Unused to being disobeyed-much less being bitten twice-he glared at her and jabbed his finger into the air again. A scary jab. A follow-my-lead-without-question jab. A jab that would have had any of the men he worked with quaking in their boots.

Not this lady.

Instead, she lifted her chin so far he thought she’d get a nosebleed and gave the air her own jab, to her right. Beyond the counter was a discrete elevator door.

The service elevator. Damn, she had a point.

With a stiff nod, he went to lift her to her knees but she shoved him away. Nose still thrust in the air, she pushed back her wild hair and started to crawl under her own steam.

Only to get tangled in the hoops making up her skirt. She would have tumbled to the wood floor, making a racket that would have gotten them both killed, but he hauled her against his side. Suddenly, he was blinded as her skirt raised up like a damn flag, right over both of their heads.

Jerking the skirt down with one hand and holding her tight against him with the other, he made his awkward way toward the elevator, feeling her breathing down his neck the entire way. “I can save myself,” she said, her mouth to his ear.

Uh-huh. Right. He’d never imagined it coming to this, crawling on the floor, holding a bossy woman against him, praying for his life. Man, he was tired of this job. Of this city. Of his life.

If he lived-and he intended to live, thank you very much-he was ready, past ready, for a new venue. A few feet from the elevator he heard something behind him-or maybe it was just instincts-and one jerk of his head revealed Jimmy, climbing over the counter.

Forget being quiet, it was hustle time. With a last flying leap, he got them to the elevator. “Open, open, open,” he muttered, hitting the button over and over.

For the first time today, fate was actually on his side and the doors swished open. He tossed Pink into a corner, then followed, reaching for the close button and starting a new prayer.

Close, close, close.

“Who do you think you are? Robo Cop?” Pink snapped, fighting to untangle herself from her dress.

“Gotcha,” Jimmy cried, falling off the counter to the floor. But he recovered quickly and aimed his gun.

Kyle dove over Pink, covering her body with his.

The doors closed.

Several rounds hit the steel doors, leaving an indention, but not quite penetrating all the way through.

“Get off of me!” She shoved at him for emphasis.

Kyle, sweating, sank back against the wall. “You’re welcome.”

“What for?”

“For saving your life.”

She let out a shocked laugh. “Saving my life? You should be thanking me.”

“Why? I just saved your pretty little hide.” Kyle opened his eyes and for the first time leveled them right on her. She didn’t look terrified, or in shock, as he might have expected. Just angry.

“You saved my hide.” She laughed again, though it was a weak one. Sinking next to him, her head thunked back against the wall. “I saved yours, buster.”

“Buster?”

“Who do you think managed to track the gunman?” she asked. “Who found the elevator? Who-”

Another gunshot shut her up. Again, it didn’t penetrate, but the elevator jerked to a stop.

“What-”

“Terrific.” Kyle tipped his head back. The light for the second floor hadn’t come on. “We’re between floors. Sitting ducks.”

“Why is that?”

He looked at her again, taking in the lightest, most arresting golden eyes he’d ever seen, the most amazing matching gold hair tumbling past her shoulders and the impossibly useless pink dress. No use sugarcoating it. He told her the truth. “We’re dead.”

“Not until we stop breathing, we’re not.”

He couldn’t believe she wasn’t hysterical by now, or in shock. And in spite of the added complication she’d been, he felt a reluctant admiration for her. “Yeah, and we’re still breathing, aren’t we.”

“That’s right. Thanks to me.”

Okay, she was being a pain in the butt. But now that he’d had a moment to catch his breath, he had to admit she was a beautiful pain in the butt. As disastrous as the pink was on her, the dress did hang nicely from shoulder to low on her hips. And everything in between. For the first time, he saw everything in between. Her slender throat, her breasts thrust up and nearly out by the cut of the dress, her waist…she was pretty damn mouthwatering. He’d give her this, she wasn’t a hardship to look at it. “Move back.”

She’d come up to her knees, and was inspecting the control panel. “Why?”

“Because I said.”

She rolled her eyes and poked at the panel.

Another gunshot rang out, and directly in front of her the control panel buckled out toward her. Clearly not made of the same strength of steel as the doors, the bullet tore through.