Her Mile High Mates [The Hot Millionaires #4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (20 page)

They had to do this quickly and wouldn’t get a second shot at it. Even with the fireworks making such a racket, Sonia’s companion inside that room must surely hear the noise of a helicopter landing directly outside the window. Apart from anything else, the room was lit up like a Christmas tree, and the shadow of the bird hovering just outside would surely draw their attention.

The feel of the skids hitting the surface of the roof was as gentle as the touch of a butterfly’s wing. If Fabia hadn’t been so wound up, she’d have found her voice and congratulated Clyde. That was some piece of work. He killed the engine, and Peyton leapt agilely to the ground, cutting equipment in hand. He ducked beneath the still-whirling rotor and headed for the window. He had thoughtfully left the door open in his haste to be gone. Fabia threw off her headphones, released her harness, and lost no time in going after him. Or she would have done, had her skirt not made it impossible to leap down unaided. Impatiently, she grabbed the hem and ripped until the flimsy material split all the way up to her thigh on one side, not leaving much to the imagination but giving her much-greater freedom of movement.

“Hey!”

Clyde tried to grab her arm. She’d promised that she’d stay in the helicopter unless needed—the guys wouldn’t have let her come otherwise. They didn’t know she’d crossed her fingers behind her back when making that promise. She heard Clyde swearing, yelling at her to stay put, but she pretended not to hear. He couldn’t leave the helicopter and force her back because he had to be there to start it up again just as soon as they had Sonia.

She ran across the roof in her bare feet, cursing when she trod directly on a pebble but not letting it slow her down. She reached Peyton, who was concentrating on cutting through the glass with a deadly looking implement.

“What the fuck—”

“Can you see Sonia?”

“Can’t see a damned thing.” He carried on cutting. “And you shouldn’t be here.”

“Yeah, I should.”

Peyton sighed, clearly not having time to argue, which is what she’d been counting on. “Stand back.”

He threw the saw thing he was using aside, placed a foot against the window, and kicked hard. The glass fell inward, shattering against the marble sill. Before Peyton could prevent her, Fabia stuck her head through the gap.

“Sonia!”

“Fabia?”

She tried to wriggle through to her sister, but Peyton pulled her bodily aside. Just as he did so, she noticed the other man in the room. He was tall, well muscled, and didn’t look pleased to see them. He manically punched away at his keyboard. It made a dinging noise—like something had been rejected, which caused him to swear in a language Fabia didn’t recognize—Russian, presumably. He then threw his hands in the air, glowered at Sonia, who was edging toward the gap in the window, and lunged for her. He caught her by the ankle, and she fell to the floor with a startled scream. The man pulled her to her feet, twisted one of her arms behind her back hard enough to make her scream, and held a vicious-looking knife to her throat.

“Take one step into this room, and she dies,” he said, looking like he meant it.

“What the hell do we do now?” Fabia asked desperately. “We have to help her.”

“Give it up,” Peyton said calmly. “This place is surrounded.”

“You’re too late.”

Presumably, he meant to stop the scam. Fabia had her doubts about whether he’d pulled it off, given the dinging she just heard. Knowing they were on their way, Sonia would have found a way to foul it up. Not that she particularly gave a damn. What was it to her if a bank, or some large conglomeration, lost a few million quid?

The man backed away from the window, keeping Sonia firmly in front of him, and hammered on the door. It didn’t immediately open.

“Clyde must have called the cavalry,” Peyton said.

Fabia nodded. Clyde was supposed to radio through the moment they landed. Edmunds’s forces would then serve the warrant, hopefully panicking everyone inside the house so that the tower room was no longer a priority.

“Let her go,” Peyton said. “Don’t make this any worse for yourself than it already is. You’re no killer.”

Fabia flashed Peyton a look. “How do you figure that one out?” she asked in an undertone. “He looks pretty desperate to me.”

“Keep him talking,” Peyton whispered back. “And wait for help to arrive.”

“Sonia, are you all right?” Fabia knew it was a stupid question. Her sister looked terrified, but she had to say something. “Talk to me.”

“Yes, everything’s just fine and dandy, thanks for asking.” Given her current circumstances, Fabia could hardly blame her sister for being sarcastic.

The thug holding her bashed on the door again, and this time, they all heard the first key being turned. If Sonia left this room, Fabia knew she’d never see her alive again, and she hadn’t come this far only to lose her. She looked desperately at Peyton, who shrugged, clearly frustrated but with no clear idea of what to do next. Damn it, there had to be something.

Fabia’s eyes fell upon a possible solution. Right there on the surface of the flat roof was a nice, smooth, round boulder. A copingstone that had obviously been dislodged from the main roof during a recent storm. Fabia thanked God for the questionable quality of Spanish buildings. She picked up the boulder and weighed it between her hands, getting the feel for it.

The sound of the second lock turning focused her attention.

Praying that the stress of the situation wouldn’t affect her aim, Fabia forced herself to concentrate on the thug. He was a much-larger target than a small bucket at the opposite end of a tennis court. Even so, she could do this!

She had to.

“Get ready to grab Sonia,” she said in an urgent whisper to Peyton.

No nodded, not wasting precious time asking what she intended to do. Instead, she sensed him crouching, ready to pounce.

“Sonia, Aussie formation!” she yelled.

Sonia went limp against her captor, who instinctively appeared to loosen his hold on her. As soon as he did so, Sonia fell to her knees, screaming as a piece of broken window glass cut into her knee. The thug now had no one to hide behind, and Fabia didn’t hesitate. This was her one opportunity to redress the balance. She’d already lost her parents to these crooks. She was damned if she’d lose Sonia, too.

Fabia took a deep, calming breath, gauged the distance, pulled back her arm and hurled the stone at the thug with as much force as she could muster. All the anxiety and distress of the previous weeks lent her added strength, and the rock hurtled toward its target with pinpoint accuracy. The thug saw it coming and instinctively ducked, letting Sonia go altogether. Peyton leapt into the room, glass crunching beneath his feet as he grabbed Sonia’s arm and bodily lifted her through the broken window.

“Go!” he said to the two girls as the door to the passageway flew open and a bull of a man barrelled into the room.

Fabia and Sonia grasped hands and ran in a crouch toward the chopper. Clyde saw them coming and had the rotor turning already.

“We can’t go without Peyton,” Fabia yelled, falling into the back seat beside Sonia and glancing anxiously toward the room.

“Then let’s hope that he can get himself out of there without our help.” Clyde’s voice was fraught with concern. “I can’t leave the controls.”

“I’ll go.” Fabia tried to climb out of the chopper, but Clyde physically restrained her.

“Stay where you are. He’s coping.”

“But I—”

“I don’t need to worry about you as well.”

Clyde spoke so sharply that Fabia realized how selfish she was being and resumed her seat.

“You’re right,” she said, clasping her sister’s hand tightly in her own, her delight at seeing her again tempered by her fear for Peyton.

All three of them turned their attention to the tower room. Fabia’s rock had just missed the thug but came close enough to have the desired effect. It bounced off the wall behind him and rolled harmlessly away. They were cheered when Peyton managed to kick the guy’s balls before he recovered himself.

“Ouch!” Clyde winced.

“Good shot!” Sonia yelled, clinging to Fabia and shaking uncontrollably.

The door burst open just as Sonia’s captor scrabbled to his knees, clutching his scrotum, knife once again in his hand. The guy who burst in on them carried a gun.

“Christ!” Clyde muttered.

“He’s mine,” the first thug said, advancing toward Peyton with a noxious smile twisting his lips.

“Oh God, I can’t watch!” Fabia lowered her head, sobbing, but immediately returned her attention to the action.

Two things happened very quickly. The door flew open behind the guy with the gun, knocking him forward. His gun discharged, hitting the guy with the knife in the middle of his back just as he pushed Peyton against the broken window and slashed at his arm with his knife.

“Oh no, he’s hurt!”

Peyton flew through the open window with enough speed to give Fabia heart. There was blood pouring from his arm, but he moved fast enough to imply that his wound wasn’t fatal. The moment he hauled himself into the chopper, Clyde took it up. Gunshots were aimed at them but went well wide.

“You okay?” Clyde asked, darting a glance at Peyton.

“I’ve had better days.” He clasped his upper arm and grimaced. Blood seeped between his fingers.

“Let me help you.” Fabia leaned anxiously forward.

“No, we’ll be on the ground in just a second or two.”

The moment they touched down and Clyde had killed the engine, he grabbed a first-aid kit from beneath the seat and pulled a rough tourniquet round Peyton’s arm. He looked gray, and it was obvious to Fabia that he was in pain.

“Hi, Sonia,” Peyton said, glancing over his shoulder. “You have one hell of a feisty sister.”

“You okay, buddy?” Clyde asked.

Was he? Still running on adrenalin, Peyton paused to consider the question. He felt light-headed due to loss of blood, but he’d live. He and Clyde had both known that a thousand and one things could have gone wrong with their hastily concocted plan. Landing the chopper in such a confined space was always going to be tough, but Clyde had managed it like the true professional that he was. Calm and competent in a crisis, he was a great person to have watching your back or, in this case, controlling the cyclic. It was one thing practising these manoeuvres in open spaces, but doing it in the dark, surrounded by solid concrete walls where the slightest deviation could spell disaster, was in a different league.

Against all the odds, they’d pulled it off and got Sonia out alive and unharmed. No wonder he felt euphoric.

“Fine,” he said. “Let’s get the girls inside.”

The stairs to the loft took him a while, but he managed them unaided. Once inside, Clyde dealt with his injury, dressing it properly.

“It caught the fleshy part of your arm,” he said. “I’ve cleaned it up and put butterfly strips on it to hold it together. I don’t think it’ll need stitches, but you ought to get it checked out tomorrow.”

“Fair enough.”

Both guys then turned toward the two girls, huddled together on the settee, looking totally wiped out.

“You ladies okay?” Peyton asked.

Sonia smiled at him. “Yes, thanks to you.”

“Let me sort you two out as well.” Clyde knelt before Sonia and examined her bloody knee. “Hmm, there’s a bit of glass embedded in there. It might hurt a bit when I get it out.”

“After what I’ve been through, I doubt that I’ll feel a thing.”

Clyde extracted the glass, causing Sonia to screech. When he cleaned the cut with antiseptic ointment she actually growled.

“There you go. Good as new.” Clyde turned his attention to Fabia. “Foot up,” he ordered.

“Don’t you just love a dominant male,” she said to Sonia, sounding to Peyton almost giddy with relief.

“Looks like you’ve landed two of them,” Sonia said, amused.

Clyde swiftly dealt with Fabia’s cuts and put his first-aid gear away. “Pilots have to have a basic knowledge of stuff like this,” he explained in answer to the girls’ unasked question.

“Where’s Sergio?” Sonia asked anxiously, her relief at being reunited with Fabia clearly turning to anxiety on her lover’s behalf. “Is he safe?”

“We’ll know soon enough.”

Fabia filled Sonia in on Interpol’s involvement.

“I knew you’d come out here when I went missing,” Sonia said, clutching Fabia’s hand again. “I was terrified that they’d find out who you were as well.” She shook her head. “I was an idiot, going crashing about asking questions like that when I didn’t have a clue what I was looking for.”

Fabia patted her hand. “It’s over now.”

“Thanks to you.” Sonia grinned. “Glad to see you haven’t lost your touch.”

“What was that all about?” Peyton asked. “The Aussie thing, I mean.”

Both girls laughed. “We used to play a lot of tennis doubles together,” Fabia said. “Sonia’s backhand isn’t all it could be, so sometimes, when I was serving from the right-hand court, I’d yell out ‘Aussie’ to Sonia. That was her cue that we were playing the point with the Australian formation.”