Free Leather and Lace (Tempered Steel Book 2) by Maggie Adams Page A

with now. But no, he wanted the power that her submission gave him. With shaking hands, she reached up to pull down his pants. Her knee slid forward as the rug moved.
    She almost smiled.
    She might go down, but by God, she wasn’t going down without a fight. Grasping the sides of his pants, she pulled hard, knocking him off center and his feet slipped on the rug. She felt the knife slice across her cheek near her earlobe, but she paid no attention. She grabbed the end of the rug and yanked with all her strength, sending both of them tumbling to the ground.
    Her assailant landed with a thump and a crack. She assumed he had hit his head on the old space heater, but she wasn’t going to risk the time it took to look back. She was on her feet and running for the front door.
    She almost made it.
    As she reached for the doorknob, she was yanked by her hair. She screamed. “Bitch! You’ll pay for that!”
    Dragging her by her hair, he flung her to the left, into her office. She hit the desk with her pelvis, pain radiating across her midsection. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the knife poised to strike in his hand. She whirled in the other direction, the knife striking the desk. He grabbed her hair once again as he yanked on the knife.
    Sliding one hand behind her and pushing against him with the other, she made a grab for anything that might save her. Blood poured from the cut on her face, but she was ambivalent to her own pain. Grasping her tape dispenser, she swung it in an arc, connecting with the side of his head. He reeled back, but didn’t let go of her hair.
    But it was enough. With a lunge, she reached for her letter opener, twisting quickly and plunging it into his eye socket. With a scream of pain, he let her go, dropping the knife as both hands pulled on the opener now embedded in his face.
    Angel gave him another shove as she scrambled to the door. Flinging it open, she ran down the front steps and through the wrought iron gate. In her terror, she plowed right into Miss Maisy.
    “Angel? What on earth?” Maisy started to ask. Then she saw the blood on Angel’s face and with a quick flick of her wrist, she blew the police whistle she kept dangling from her wrist in case of emergencies.
    “You there! Stop! You are under arrest!” Miss Maisy shouted toward Angel’s front door.
    Oh God! He was coming for them! Angel pulled on Miss Maisy’s arm. She had to get them away. No telling what he might do to them. Angel gave a frantic tug on Miss Maisy. That’s when she noticed the Glock cocked and ready in the old woman’s hand. The shot went wide but did the trick. The figure disappeared back in the house.
    Angel sagged in relief. Miss Maisy might be a gossip, but she was damn fierce protector.
    As the homeowners and shopkeepers rallied around at the shrill sound of the whistle, then the shot, Angel glanced up and saw the man who attacked her running for the wooded bluffs behind her home.
    ****
    “What the blazes do you mean, you can’t find him!” Chance heard Miss Maisy’s screech as he opened the door to the police station. “How hard can it be? He had Angel’s letter opener in his eye for God’s sake! Blood was running down his face! Get the damn dogs out to look for him!” Miss Maisy was waving her large arms around the station, her print muumuu quivering with her not-so-suppressed anger, as she barely missed the young sergeant’s face. Chance spared a nod of sympathy to the poor guy dealing with her as he headed for the Sheriff’s office.
    “Damn eyesight isn’t what it once was, but I bet I could have nicked him good if I’d have gotten a little closer,” Miss Maisy continued to rant and rave as Chance opened the door. He turned white at the sight that greeted him. Angel’s face was covered in blood. A police officer was gently cleaning the wound.
    “Chance!” Angel jumped from her chair, startling the officer working on her, and launched herself into his arms.
    “Were you hit? Why