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He sat with his back against the wall and his gun hand facing toward the door. Reaching out with his left arm, he pulled her back toward him. He’d have felt better if she was sitting behind him, or better yet, hiding inside the old bathtub management had left in here from when this mansion used to be a home and this room had been a bathroom, but she wasn’t going to leave his side. He figured that out when she crawled up against him and practically curled up in a ball in his lap. She buried her head against his chest.
    It was really quiet in the room and for the first time he realized how loud her puffy skirt rustled every time she moved. Before, he had been doing the moving, but with her new fetal position in his lap, she was making a shit load of noise, even with every breath she took.
    He lowered his head to hers. “What’s your name?”
    “Marly.”
    “Okay, Marly, listen to me. Your skirt is really loud. You have to try not to move.”
    She froze except for the shaking, which got worse. He’d frightened her. He sighed and kissed her softly on the top of the head. She burrowed closer. Damn, he hated feeling helpless and he hated there wasn’t more he could do to make her feel safe. For lack of anything else to do, he wrapped his arm around her again.
    While he was toying with asking her to take the damn noisy skirt off, his body reacted in a way that had nothing to do with adrenaline this time. Pressed up against him this way, she wasn’t going to miss it either. He was a big man and he came with big parts—another reason he didn’t date small girls. He’d probably rip her apart.
    Damn, why was he thinking about this with armed gunmen and hostages in the next room? They needed to get out of there and soon. “Matt. What’s the status?”
    “Who’s Matt?”
    He put one finger over her lips.
    “Hang tight, Bull. We’re going over blueprints of the building. Don’t worry, the FBI hostage negotiator is here talking to the head tango and stalling until we get in place.”
    That was the plan? What happened to the team’s usual mode of operation? Get in, take out the bad guys and get out. Blueprints and an FBI hostage negotiator? They’d be lucky if the damn tangos didn’t blow the bomb in the meantime. This was going to take all night, and Bull had a feeling he was going to have this sweet young thing pressed up against him for the duration of it.
    Crap.

Chapter Five
    “We’re going to die, aren’t we?” Marly asked as close to his ear as she could get. She’d never been more scared in her life. She couldn’t stop shaking any more than she could leave this stranger’s side.
    He moved to press his mouth against her ear. “No, we’re not.”
    The softly spoken words and the warmth of his breath helped somehow. It calmed her in a situation where she’d given up hope of ever being calm again.
    “I don’t believe you.” It was probably horribly dangerous, but she wanted to keep him talking, for her own sanity.
    Brushing the hair away from her ear with one hand, he leaned in again. “Why not?”
    Maybe it was fear of her impending death, but she decided to tell him the complete truth. “Because you keep talking to yourself and to someone named Matt who isn’t really here. It’s nice I’m not alone, but you’re obviously crazy.”
    His body shook beneath her and she felt rather than heard him laugh. “Matt is the guy at the other end of the communicator in my ear.”
    She stiffened. That was really good news. Not just that he wasn’t a lunatic, but that the authorities were coming to help them. Then again, maybe he was crazy and making things up.
    “So they know we’re in here? The police or whoever know about the terrorists?”
    “Yes.” He hissed the word into her ear, and the warmth of his breath sent a shiver straight through her.
    She’d really like this guy to not be crazy. “Let me talk to Matt.”
    He let out another soft laugh. “You can’t.”
    Uh, huh. Just as she thought.