No matter what Armand’s motives were, if he offered her a way to escape, she was grabbing it with both hands.
Returning from the closet, she whispered, “I’m ready. Where are we, Armand? Tristan never said and I’ve not been allowed outside long enough to get any idea where the hell this place is.”
“Kosovo,” he returned grimly.
“Kosovo?” she squeaked. “Oh my God. I don’t even know exactly where Kosovo is on the map, and I’ve traveled extensively. All I can tell you is that it’s in Eastern Europe somewhere.”
“It doesn’t matter. In a few hours you’ll be long gone from here and it’s advisable you never return.”
“No shit,” she muttered. “It’s not going to make a place on my future vacation hot spots, that’s for damn sure.”
He grabbed her arm. “Let’s go. You stay absolutely silent. Not one word. You listen to me and follow my orders at all times. If I say get down, you drop immediately. Are we clear?”
There was a thread of steel in his voice. She wasn’t sure how she’d ever gained the impression that he was nice. Right now he sounded ice cold. Not at all like the man who’d brought her pregnancy books and chocolate. Or someone who’d fussed at her for not taking better care of herself.
She followed him into the hallway outside her bedroom, and it was then she noticed the gun in his shoulder holster. There was another on his hip. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried over that fact. At least he had some protection in case they got caught, but she didn’t relish being caught in the middle of a gunfight. She mentally said a prayer that they’d slip out undetected and make it safely to wherever they were going.
He paused a moment as if listening for any sound below. Then he herded her down the stairway, keeping his finger to his lips to motion her to maintain strict silence. As if she needed to be told. If he was getting her out of here, she’d do anything he said.
He led her through the kitchen and out the door leading onto the terrace. From there they took a set of winding stone stairs that led to an open, fenced yard. He pressed her to the side of the house and held his palm firmly over her chest. They stood for a long moment until Maren saw a shadowy figure fade to the right and around the far corner of the house. She let out a long breath of relief, but his hand pressed harder against her. A silent command for her to remain quiet and absolutely still.
Another figure followed in the same path as the first. She would have already gotten herself caught. Apparently stealth and escape were not her strong points. Thank God Armand had more skill than she did.
A dozen panicked questions swirled in her mind as he led her through the back gate and into the dense vegetation beyond the fenced-in enclosure. Was he just going to dump her somewhere outside the boundary of the house and leave her to go it alone? Yes, she wanted to be free, but somehow wandering around Kosovo in the middle of the night didn’t fill her with any relief. She had no passport, no identification, no phone, no way to get anywhere at all.
When they moved beyond the first line of trees, he whispered, “Pick up the pace or I’ll have to carry you and that’ll slow us both down.”
She immediately quickened her step, matching his stride the best she could. Lucky for her she wasn’t so heavy with child that it had reduced her walk to a waddle. Though she hadn’t gotten much exercise in the last several weeks. She’d spent her time locked in seclusion. She was already out of breath from the exertion of the fast walk.
After an interminable amount of time, she knew she wasn’t going to be able to keep up her current pace. She had a stitch in her side and her hip was cramping.
“How much farther?” she whispered. “I’m not trying to be a pain, I swear, but I can’t keep this up much longer.”
In response he merely stopped, swept her up into his arms and then set off at a rapid clip. The man was obviously in tip-top shape. Despite his warning that carrying her would slow them both down, he kept up an insane pace. She swore he was walking faster now that he wasn’t having to wait for her.
He made carrying her weight seem effortless. Who was this guy anyway? He worked for a guy like Tristan, but he did nice things for her and had sworn he wouldn’t let Tristan harm her or her child. And it looked as though he was keeping his word. He’d risked a lot to help her escape. Tristan would be furious when he discovered her gone, and once he discovered Armand gone as well, he’d rapidly put two and two together.
“He’ll kill you for this,” she whispered. “You know that, don’t you?”
She saw his smile in the dim moonlight streaming through the trees. It wasn’t a friendly smile. It had the look of a predator about to pounce on his prey. She shivered because the man looked decidedly dangerous. Somehow she thought he could hold his own against a man like Tristan Caldwell.
“You let me worry about Caldwell,” Armand said simply. “He won’t be happy, but I’ll take care of that.”
“You’re going back?” she asked in shock. “Are you crazy?”
“My job’s not finished,” he clipped out.
Another dozen questions burned on her tongue, but his grip tightened around her, a warning for her not to push further. Oh well, if he was crazy enough to go back to Tristan after helping her escape, that was his problem.
He must have sensed her thoughts. “Does the expression ‘don’t look a gift horse in the mouth’ mean anything to you?”