Trouble With Mitch Page 9

  “Mitch? What the heck’s going on? Where are you?” Amira’s head appeared over the side of the bed. “Are you all right?”

  “Come on.” He jumped to his bare feet, grabbed her hand and tried to drag her out of the bed. “There’s a fire or something. We have to get out of the building.”

  Amira laughed. “Slow down, cowboy. That’s my alarm system. It goes off every once in a while. Don’t worry. The security will take care of it. I should get a call…” She glanced at the green digits on the alarm clock. “About now.” The phone rang as she’d predicted. With a smile she lifted it. “Yes?” Her brows puckered and she sat up straight, her naked breasts glowing darkly in the flickering strobe of the alarm lights.

  Mitch’s cock twitched and he wanted nothing more than to crawl back in bed with the beautiful perfume princess, but something wasn’t right about the lights blinking.

  “Huh?” Amira held the phone away from her ear and stared at it. “The line went dead.”

  Apprehension built in Mitch’s chest, squeezing his throat into a tight knot. “We have to get out of here. Now.”

  “Let me grab some clothes.” Amira slid off the bed and ran for the huge walk-in closet between the bedroom and bathroom.

  Mitch snatched his jeans, jerking them up his legs as he hopped after Amira. “You don’t have time to go designer on me, just grab something to cover yourself and let’s go.”

  She reached inside a drawer in the closet and pulled out a nine millimeter pistol. “Here hold this while I get dressed.”

  Mitch palmed the gun, stared down at it and back at Amira. “Do you know how to fire this thing?”

  “While other girls spent time at the beauty parlor, Daddy took me to the range.” She frowned at him. “Don’t tell me you’ve never fired a gun?”

  Mitch shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a city boy. Grew up on the streets of hard knocks, but never so hard I had to carry a gun.”

  “How do you protect yourself? It’s a jungle out there.” Not that her father let her roam the streets without a contingent of bodyguards.

  Mitch straightened to his full height. “I’m skilled in self-defense.”

  “Ever had to use it?”

  A wry grin slipped across his face. “Once. A mugger tried to take my wallet.”

  Amira rolled her eyes. “On second thought, put the gun down before you shoot yourself, and help me into this thing.” She pulled a long black burka from the back of her closet and tossed it over her head.

  “Where the hell did you get that and why are you putting it on?” He pulled the burka back over her head.

  “My dad gave it to me a long time ago, when we traveled together to Saudi. I thought it was dumb at the time, but now I’m glad I have it. Will you help me or not? We don’t have time to argue.”

  His chest squeezed tightly at the thought of Amira in war-torn Iraq, a defenseless female in a male-dominant society. “You aren’t going to Iraq with me.” He held the burka out of her reach. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “And it’s less dangerous for a man?” She snorted, snatched the fabric out of his hands and slung it over her head. “Isn’t that a bit too chauvinistic even for you, Mitch West?”

  “What would your father say? You haven’t told him a thing about us or what’s going on. He’d put a contract on my head if he even knew I was in the same room with you.”

  Amira settled the black fabric over her shoulders. “What do you know about my father? He wouldn’t hurt you.”

  Mitch’s brows rose into his hairline. “Not hurt me? I’m still recovering from your last rejection. See this scar?” He pointed to the one next to his left eye.

  “My father did that?” Amira touched the indentation.

  “No, but his goons did. All you had to do was tell me to buzz off. You didn’t have to sic your father and your bodyguards on me.”

  “But I didn’t—”

  A loud crash shook the apartment.

  “Crap. They got here sooner than I thought. Come on.” Amira stepped into the closet, grabbed Mitch’s hand and jerked him in behind her.

  He dragged his feet, looking back over his shoulder at the closed bedroom door. “How is hiding in the closet going to save our butts and how are we going to get to the bottle?”

  “The bottle is in the safe on the floor below. Right now, we need to get out of the apartment.”

  “Are you going to wish us there? What if the thugs beat us to it?”

  “Are you always this pessimistic?” Amira shook her head and shoved hangers loaded with designer clothing to one side until she’d exposed the wall with one lone hanger left on the rod. “Daddy may not know how to treat my boyfriends, but he does have a good head for security.” She leaned on the hanger and the wall in front of them slid open, exposing a spiral staircase leading downward.

  Footsteps pounded through the apartment heading toward the bedroom. “After you.” She shoved him toward the stairs.

  With no other options jumping out at him, Mitch leaped through the door and down two steps before stopping to wait for Amira.

  She stepped inside, reaching back to arrange the clothes around the lone hanger. Then she touched a button on the inside wall of the hidden stairwell. The panel slid back in place, throwing them into darkness.

  Mitch gripped the metal railing and inched his way down the stairs, careful not to make a noise on the metal steps. After three or four steps, his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he noticed faint lights lighting each step. “Once we get the bottle, we’d better find the others. I’m more than ready for this little adventure to be over.”

  “Me too.”

  At the bottom of the staircase, Mitch bumped into a wall and ran his hands over the surface, searching for another button like Amira had used to trigger the other door.

  Behind him, the soft sound of buttons clicking made him turn.

  Amira closed a box on the wall and smiled sheepishly. “I disarmed the alarm system. Just push on the door.”

  Mitch gave the door a hard push and it swung open into a softly lit room big enough to fit his entire apartment. Clear cases lined the walls, displaying diamond necklaces, delicate artwork and an impressive collection of guns. “You’re quite the collector. Are these all yours?”

  “The jewelry, yes. The guns are my father’s.”

  Mitch tapped the clear glass of the nearest case. “Plexiglass?”

  “Something like that. It’s bullet proof. If a thief wanted to get in, it would take a stick of dynamite or a pretty powerful saw to get through that stuff.” Amira walked across the room to the far wall where a collection of colorful bottles were displayed in a case all their own. In the center was the blue-green bottle from the sarcophagus. She touched her finger to a fingerprint scanner and keyed a code on the keypad. The clear door slid to the side. Reaching inside, she lifted the bottle from its velvet-covered perch. Bottle in hand, she turned to Mitch. “The guys upstairs might find their way down here. The cops should be here soon, but I’m not certain they’ll get here in time. Where to?”

  “I need you to send me and that bottle to wherever Will is. Harry and Edie are supposed to join up with us there. Then you need to wish yourself to someplace safe.”

  Amira’s lips firmed into a straight line. “The bottle stays with me.” She held it in her arms, refusing to give it to him.

  “You can’t come. It’s too dangerous.” Mitch held out his hand. “Please, Amira, we don’t have time to argue.”

  “Exactly.” With a smile, she spoke clearly, “I wish we were—”

  “Wait.” Mitch clamped a hand over her mouth. “What if Will and Kate didn’t find what they were after? Someone wants the bottles badly enough to break into your apartment, who’s to say they wouldn’t try to steal the others and do away with Will and Kate?” His hand lowered.

  “Good point. What do you suggest?”

  “Let me go there first.” He stared hard at her. “Invisible. You can bring me back within two minutes
. If it’s safe, you can join us.”

  Amira’s brows furrowed, that stubborn look making Mitch want to kiss her hard. “I say I come with you now.”

  “If they need help, I can’t be worried about you too. Give me two minutes.” He reached for her arms and pulled her against him. “I don’t want you hurt.”

  Her gaze met his. “And I don’t want you hurt.”

  “I’ll be all right as long as I’m invisible.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Two minutes and you can wish me back.”

  “Promise?”

  “Lady, you’ve got the power, not me.” Mitch laughed. “If the bad guys get through, wish yourself someplace safe. Don’t wait until it’s too late. Promise?”

  She nodded, chewing on her lip. “I don’t like sending you out into the unknown.”

  “Believe me, I don’t like going into the unknown.”

  “Want to take one of my father’s guns?”

  “No. I’d end up shooting myself.” He kissed her hard and set her away from him. “Now be a good girl and wish me invisible.”

  “I still think this is crazy.” Amira hugged the bottle to her chest and stared at him.

  Mitch gave her a tight smile. “Just do it.”

  Amira inhaled and let it out. “I wish you were invisible.”

  For a moment, nothing happened, then the requisite clap of thunder and shaking walls heralded the oncoming wish. White light blinded Mitch for a moment and he lost sight of Amira. For a moment panic seized him. Then she was standing in front of him, shaking her head.

  “Did it work?” he asked.

  She reached out, her fingers bumping into his chest. “I can’t see you.”

  He let out the breath he’d been holding and smoothed a hand along her cheek. “Wish me to Will.”

  “But I want to go with you.” Amira’s fingers climbed up his chest to his face and cupped his chin, her thumb running over his lips.

  “Two minutes.” He kissed her thumb.

  “Mitch?” Amira’s fingers bunched the fabric of his shirt. “There’s something I wanted to tell you.”

  “Yes?” He pushed her hair back off her face. The sensation all the more intense since all she could do was feel him.

  “I know Princess Vashti.”

  He laughed. “How could you know a woman who’s been dead for a thousand years?”

  “My father told me stories about her when I was a child.”

  “He did?” Mitch’s fingers curled around her arms. “What did he tell you?”

  “That she could wish for anything she wanted, but that she couldn’t wish for a man’s love.”

  “Sounds like our princess. Must have been a legend that survived the centuries. Your father is from the Middle East, isn’t he?”

  “Yes.” She closed her eyes and leaned her head against his chest. “He used to call me his princess,” she whispered. “Do you think it means anything?” Her face tipped up to his.

  Something cold brushed over Mitch’s skin, but he shook it off. “No. Don’t read anything more into this than you have to. Everything will be all right. You’ll see.” He lifted her chin and pressed his lips to hers. “Now wish me to Will.”

  She sighed. “I wish you were with Will.”

  Thunder shook the room, rattling the bullet-proof glass display cases. White light flashed in Mitch’s eyes. His last vision of Amira, her forehead creased in a frown, her hands reaching out for him.

  When the bright light faded, he found himself in a stone-walled room. Will lay on the floor at his feet, another man dressed in the white robes of the Middle East was bound and lying beside him. Kate sat in a chair, her hands and feet bound, a gag tied around her head. Her garbled yells through the gag made Mitch jump, until he realized she couldn’t see him. Apparently, she was trying to rouse Will with her muffled screams.

  Mitch had two minutes to get them out of this mess before Amira wished him back. He’d better get a move on. Before he could take one step, the stone wall behind him shifted, swinging open.

  Chapter Eight

  With limited space in the crate, Harry rolled Edie to her side facing away from him and slid his cock into her pussy from behind. The bumpiness of the ride made it a challenge to stay inside. To keep her close, he wrapped his arms around her and fondled her breasts.

  “Umm, I never thought I’d be entombed in a crate, making love with a one hundred-year-old man.” Edie giggled, her laughter catching when Harry’s hand slid lower to touch her clitoris. “Oh, do that again.”

  He complied, pressing his dick deeper inside her warm wetness. “So how does it feel to be with a senior citizen?” His lips skimmed the back of her neck, her hair tickling his nose.

  “Amaaazzzinng,” she moaned, her hand holding his fingers in place over her sweet spot.

  As he pumped in and out of her, her back arched letting him drive deeper. Shards of exquisite sensations shot through Harry’s system, culminating in that rock-hard organ buried inside the most beautiful redhead in the world. He burst over the edge, his semen shooting into her, his body rocking in tight, desperate spurts.

  Edie took control of Harry’s nerveless fingers, twirling them lower into the juices of their lovemaking, dragging the moisture up to her clit. “There.” She rubbed his finger around the little nubbin until her muscles tightened and she soon was gasping out his name. “Harry!”

  He held Edie close, continuing to stroke her as she rode her wave to the end. Not until they both plummeted back to earth did Harry remember where he was. He lay back on the sarcophagus, satiated and momentarily exhausted. “Who knew Edie Ragsdale would be a wildcat trapped in a box, lying across the sarcophagus of a dead woman?”

  Edie scooted around to face him. “It must be the beast in you that brings out the wildcat in me.” She cupped his face in the darkness and kissed him. “What happens when we arrive at our destination?”

  “You’ll need to wish us out of here before they open the box.”

  “I can do that, but where to?” Her lips trailed a path along his jawline. “We could wish ourselves out of the frying pan into the fire. Or in this case, out of the sarcophagus into a tomb.”

  “We’ll have to take our chances. The rest of the gang is depending on us to help break the curse.”

  “I’m looking forward to the final showdown with Danorah.” Edie’s voice took on a hard edge so unlike the mouse she’d been when Harry had first met her.

  “Me too.” He liked the new, adventurous Edie and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. “That woman has caused enough trouble.”

  Edie’s arm draped across Harry. “Do you think Will and Mitch are having any troubles collecting the bottles and stone?”

  Harry pulled Edie closer. “Let’s hope not.”

  The truck carrying the crate bumped to a stop.

  “Harry?” Edie’s voice dropped to a whisper.

  “Uh-huh, sweetheart?”

  “It’s showtime.” Edie held onto him as she spoke the most frightening two words Harry could think of, “I wish—”

  * * * * *

  Mitch leaped over the white-robed man and reached for the gag covering Kate’s mouth.

  As soon as he touched her, Kate screamed into the rag and hopped, chair and all, to the side, nearly tipping over.

  “It’s okay, Kate. It’s me, Mitch.” He grabbed her shoulder and righted the chair. “Amira wished me to be invisible. Do you understand?”

  Her eyes wide, Kate nodded, her face turning right and left as if searching for him.

  “I’m going to try to remove the gag. Hold tight. Someone’s coming.”

  Kate sat straight, staring at the door as it swung the rest of the way open.

  The black-robed desert soldiers stormed in.

  Mitch’s fingers fumbled to loosen the knot. If he could free her mouth, she could wish herself and Will out of the room. They’d have to come back for the other man when they could find help.

  One of the men dropped down on his haunc
hes and slid a knife between Kate’s legs, slicing through the ropes binding her ankles.

  Mitch danced out of range. If the soldiers knew he was here, they might start shooting at anything and everything. He kept quiet, standing behind Kate, working his fingers through the tight knot. At last he had it loosened, but he didn’t have time to jerk it off before the man who’d cut the ropes pulled Kate to her feet and pushed her toward the door.

  With the other two men out cold on the floor, Mitch was the only one left to save Kate from whatever fate the men had planned for her. By their leering looks, it couldn’t be good. Without bothering to overanalyze the situation, Mitch launched himself onto the man’s back.

  He screamed and let go of Kate.

  “Get out of here, Kate!” Mitch yelled, wishing now for that gun Amira had wanted him to take.

  The gag shook loose from Kate’s mouth. “I can’t. We don’t have the bottles and the stone. Omar Qarim stole them.”

  “Worry about that later. I don’t know how much longer I can hold this guy.” The man beneath Mitch bucked and swung around in circles, effectively blocking the doorway and keeping any other men from entering the room.

  “Go!” Mitch yelled.

  Kate shouted, “I wish Will, me and Dad were anywhere else but here!”

  Thunder filled Mitch’s ears and a sinking feeling filled his gut. “Oh no. Kate, you shouldn’t have wished that. As soon as you get there, wish yourself to the tomb of Princess Vas—” Bright light blinded Mitch before he could finish his sentence. When the light faded, he was still holding on to the man in black, but Will and Kate had disappeared. Her father struggled to sit up, his arms behind his back, but his feet free.

  Mitch whooped like a madman and leaped off the desert soldier’s back.

  So spooked from being attacked by an invisible enemy, the soldier ran from the room screaming. The stone door closed, locking Mitch and Kate’s father inside.

  “I don’t know your name,” Mitch said. How did you explain to a man that you weren’t a figment of his imagination? “I’m an acquaintance of your daughter. I’m here to help, but I’m not sure how long. Let me untie your gag and ropes.”