War Bride (Battle Born #7)(44)
Crusader
Copyright ? 2015 Cyndi Friberg
Chapter One
Shifting her satchel higher onto her shoulder, Ashley Kane hurried along the uneven sidewalk lining one of Tribeca’s narrow streets. Her last appointment had gone well. She was relatively sure it would result in a new account. Still, she was tired and the five blocks from the subway station to her apartment building had never seemed so long. Her phone vibrated in the front pocket of her purse and she grumbled under her breath, praying one of her high-maintenance customers wasn’t in need of attention. Who was she kidding? She provided private consultations for pets with emotional challenges. All of her customers were high maintenance. Only high-maintenance people could afford her services.
Her best friend’s image smiled at her from the phone’s screen, so she accepted the call. “Raina. You’re a welcome surprise. What’s up?”
“I’ve been funded through next year.” Pride and enthusiasm shone through in Raina’s tone and Ashley found herself smiling despite her aching feet.
“That’s wonderful.” The strained economy in recent years had made grant money harder and harder to secure. But Raina was persistent and her work in experimental agriculture was important. “Does this secure both projects or are they making you choose between your two babies?”
“This will give me a greenhouse for the super grains, but I still need supporters if I’m going to continue the hydroponics project.”
Ashley held her phone in place with her shoulder as she dug out her keycard. “Is that a concern? Isn’t this year five for the hydroponics project? You haven’t had a problem yet.”
“That in itself is the problem. I can’t keep tapping the same sources indefinitely, especially without quantifiable results.”
“You’ll think of something. You always do.” She punched in the security code that unlocked the lobby door then summoned the private elevator with her keycard. Like most of the residential units in Tribeca, this building had once been a warehouse. Then a developer separated the space into four modest apartments and her luxurious, multi-level loft. “My phone cuts out in the elevator. Give me a minute and I’ll call you back.”
“I’m on my way out the door. Call me tomorrow and I’ll give you the details. I just had to tell someone tonight.”
“Will do and congratulations. I know how hard you work for every dollar.” As expected, her phone lost signal as soon as she stepped into the elevator. She slipped the phone back into her purse as the elevator door slid closed. She’d met Raina at Georgetown University and they’d been close ever since. Raina still lived near DC while Ashley had moved back to Manhattan, but they visited as often as their busy schedules allowed.
It was only two stories up to the main floor of her loft, but the elevator was ancient. She usually took the stairs. Today, however, her aching feet wouldn’t submit to the climb. Thursdays were always busy because she tried to leave Fridays open for last-minute complications and emergency appointments. Emergencies. The thought made her smile. None of her appointments were true emergencies. Her clients just expected immediate attention regardless of how insignificant the snag.
The elevator door slid open and she walked out into the entryway, which was basically one corner of her living room. She kicked off her shoes as she reached the carpeting and let the heavy satchel slip from her shoulder. The first chair she passed caught her purse. Generally she was a neat freak. Everything had a place and everything needed to be in its place. Today the only place she wanted to be was sprawled across her couch until she could summon enough energy to undress and go to bed.
She turned toward the waiting comfort of her plush sofa and a long, strong arm wrapped around her waist. Fear burst through her rambling thoughts and jolted her composure. She inhaled a massive breath, meaning to scream, but a hand clamped down across her nose and mouth. The meaty paw blocked most of her airflow as well as trapping the half-formed sound. Her assailant was either male or the biggest woman she’d ever encountered. She stomped down on his instep, but her shoeless foot did no real damage. Slamming her elbow into his ribs only made him tighten the arm already crushing her ribs.
Forcing herself to think through the roaring in her ears, she stilled. If his purpose was robbery, cooperation was a much better strategy. He could take whatever he wanted if he got the hell out and left her unharmed. His hand eased enough to let her breathe and she instinctively started to scream. His hand tightened again, the message clear. Don’t make a sound.
He pushed her deeper into the room, guiding her with his big body. She caught an occasional glimpse of dark clothing, but nothing of the man himself. Until they reached the sofa. Without conscious thought, she looked into the mirror hanging above the couch and a fresh wave of terror crashed over her.
He was even bigger than he felt. Her head tucked neatly under his chin and his brawny arms made her look petite, a novel perspective for a woman who topped five foot nine. Every inch of his body was covered by a matte-black uniform, but his head was bare. His dark hair was short yet wavy, and aggression revealed itself in each of his sharp features. As if sensing her stare, he turned his head and their gazes locked in the mirror.
Reality narrowed until all Ashley could see was his blue-ringed eyes. This couldn’t be happening. She’d spent years in therapy convincing herself that eyes like his didn’t exist, that they were the tormented imaginings of a betrayed adolescent. Her body tensed, hindering their progress. The rings ignited, making his dark eyes glow and communicating his displeasure.