Playing for Keeps by Cherry Adair Page B

decent marksman might target. “Keep this up. They won’t risk shooting you.”
    No. They’d shoot him first. Then it wouldn’t matter what the hell she was holding. “I’d feel better with a gun,” she remarked wryly. “But I’ll settle for a well-armed ex-husband.”
    “Not ex yet. Here.” He handed her the small can of hair spray he’d found in the bathroom back at the palace.
    “You think this’ll work, MacGyver?”
    “Aim for their eyes,” he told her, face grim. “We can’t afford any shooting. Can you manage the tank and the can?” Danica nodded. He brushed a fingertip briefly across her mouth. “That’s my girl. Okay—stand aside. I’m going to open the door and stick my head out.”
    She followed him across the room then flattened herself against the wall and out of the way, holding the tank on her shoulder and her finger on the trigger of her spray can. “Do you think it’s smart to stick your head in the way of a bullet?” she whispered.
    “They won’t shoot. Especially when they see you holding the that. One spark and we’ll all get blown to hell.”
    “What a cheerful thought.”
    Jon grinned. “Trust me.”
    Danica gave him an arch look, but she did trust him. Completely. She knew with every cell in her body he’d do everything in his power to keep her safe. God only knew she’d do the same for him. That would be enough. If not, then she could only hope there’d be enough time to tell him she loved him one last time, and to hear the same from him.
    Jon positioned himself and opened the door. “Hey, guys? Can you get in here a sec? Donovan needs some help.” Using his foot and leg as a brace, Jon made sure the opening was only large enough for a single soldier to rush in at a time.
    The moment she saw the soldier’s face, Danica pressed the little white button on the aerosol can. The guy shouted as the spray hit him directly in the eyes. He doubled over, his hands over his eyes. Jon felled him with a hard blow to the back of his neck then propelled him into the room with a heave of one hand.
    She watched in stunned amazement as he picked each man off as if it was an arcade game. A smashing karate chop, then a shove. One, two, three. The soldiers piled up like discarded toys, strewn facedown and motionless on the floor.
    Soldier four apparently didn’t get the playbook because he barreled inside, AK poised to shoot. Danica hairsprayed him. Fffftt—The container was empty. Damn. Tossing aside the can, she held up the tank so he got a good look. Blanching, he staggered back a step, looking confused, and swung around to see Jon. He lifted his weapon but it was too late. Jon grabbed the barrel of the rifle and used it to drag the guy closer. The soldier released his hold and kept coming forward, piling into Jon.
    They crashed to the floor, rolling around, grunting and cursing as they fought.
    If fear was a great motivator, Danica was in peak form as one of the downed men behind Jon came to life. “Oh, no you don’t!” With strength and determination, she brought her knee up, catching the guy in the chin as he started to rise. He reeled back, and she swung the tank around, smashing his temple. With a wince at the sickening crunch of metal on bone, she watched as he crumpled to the floor.
    Eyes darting between Jon and his opponent, Danica cringed every time bone met bone. She rushed over, lifted her trusty gas tank, and brought it down on the last soldier’s skull. Crack. Grunt. Silence.
    Jon shoved the guy off him, got to his feet, and offered Danica his brightest smile. He gently took the tank and set it aside. “You’re full of surprises.” He leaned forward to place a kiss on her open mouth. Tucking the pistols in the waistband of his pants, he grabbed two of the AK’s, hooking the straps over one shoulder, then grabbed Danica’s hand, and raced from the building.
    Surprised that dawn had broken while they’d been inside, Dani clutched the stitch in her side and kept