Free Freedom Does Matter (Mercenaries Book 2) by Tony Lavely

have asked that no one leave until eleven o’clock in the morning.”
    “Good. I can sleep in.”
    She feared she mirrored his nervous smile as she thanked him and left, seeking the Grill.
     

 

     
    Chapter Twelve
    Day Twelve - Almaza Bay
     
    SLEEP HAD NOT COME EASILY; Beckie’d dampened her pillow crying as she agonized about Ian. The sounds of the waves came through the open window, but after midnight, they faded out.
     
    Faint light from the moon flashed in Beckie’s eyes. Heart in her mouth, she forced her breathing to steady, then surveyed the room to determine what had awakened her. The clock showed 4:15 and the sky and moon showed night. Is something over there? No, I’m being stupid is all. I’m still beat from the driving and here, must still be things going on. Maybe getting ready for the holiday?
    She rolled over to try to go back to sleep when she remembered that the moonlight had winked in her eye, and she thought she heard…
    She ducked into the bedclothes as an arm struck her shoulder. Feathers fluttered away from the gash in the pillow. A tiny yelp was all she could afford as the hand-to-hand combat she’d learned came roaring back.
     
    She twisted back holding two more pillows clutched to her chest, bringing them up to where she could just see over them. The attacker was taller than she by a couple of inches. It’s a ninja, she thought in dismay. No, can’t be. Even I have black.
    She watched the attacker bring the knife up for a strike, then thought: Time for offense!
    With her feet under her, she launched herself, pillows included, at the arm with the knife. He didn’t expect that! They both hit hard but Beckie’d managed to keep the attacker’s body between her and the floor. Where’d the knife go? The stranger struggled, trying to free himself. Oh, no you don’t! She grabbed for his feet, only to get a soft sandal crushing her nose. A curse came to mind, but breathing was more important. The guy got halfway up; Beckie threw an arm around his ankles and yanked but he didn’t lose his balance. Another kick motivated Beckie; she lunged forward, driving her shoulder into the back of his knee.
    His leg buckled and he fell over backward, rolling over her hip to land on the rug. She’d mostly caught her breath while fighting from the kneeling position; she jumped to her feet and attempted the knee in the throat hold she’d been so fond of in training.
    Unfortunately, the intruder had other ideas; he squirmed away, toward the bathroom door. Before he reached the tile, Beckie grabbed his shirt and heaved. She gasped at the ugly sound his head made when it bounced off the door jamb. He went limp.
    She dropped her knees in the small of his back and took a few gasps to calm her breathing again. Quickly, she surveyed the field of battle. The attacker’s knife lay out of reach; she pulled his shirt up far enough to bare skin and pinched. No reaction. She scurried over to snatch the weapon, then switched on a lamp as she returned. He hadn’t moved; she tested the knife on her thumb. Sharp. Another glance around but there was nothing to restrain him.
    As the knife lay heavy in her hand, she gave the scene one more look, then lifted his shirt and slit it and his undershirt all the way to his neck. His hood got in the way; she pushed it up to slice the collar. 
    Funny, he doesn’t seem to have the muscles… Whoa! Needs a bath, too! She dismissed those thoughts and, hand around his throat, lifted him enough to drag the shirt off his left arm, and then his right. She separated the two garments in her hands; testing the lighter one, the cotton undershirt, she twisted it into a rope. Quickly she bound his wrists.
    In a few more seconds, she’d tied the heavier outer shirt around his ankles. After she took a deep breath of relief and satisfaction, she grasped his shoulder and pants and wrenched him onto his back.
    She stared, awestruck. The breasts were small but absolutely feminine.
    Beckie rocked