Unshakeable Pursuit (Christian Romantic Suspense)

Chapter 1c

Geoffrey hoped his moan wasn't too theatrical as he slowly turned over. His head ached where it had collided with the wall, but he had put up his hands at the last second to absorb some of the force. If the men thought he was more injured than he really was, he could take them by surprise.

The two men were speaking to each other in Chinese. At least, it sounded like Chinese to him. He wished he could understand what they were saying. What did they want with Maylin and himself?

That girl who had warned him had been right. He needed to figure out a way to get Maylin safely away.

"Get up." One of the men kicked his ankle.

Geoffrey peered up and saw the larger man standing over him, but his head was averted from Geoffrey and he spoke to the smaller man, who had a grip on Maylin. Now was Geoffrey's chance, while they were distracted.

He got to his hands and knees, pretending to be shaky. He slid his feet under him in a low, stable stance. He never dreamed he'd actually have to use the mixed martial arts he'd been training in. He bunched his leg muscles, then shot forward, slamming his shoulder at the man's pelvic bone.

His low center of gravity gave him the force to shove the larger man against the far wall. There wasn't enough space in the office for the double-leg take down he'd been trying to do, but the blow seemed to stun the man. While he got to his feet, he looked to the other man, who had Maylin.

But Geoffrey was just in time to see her punch her captor in the throat with her free hand. The man choked, his eyes bugging out of his face.

A massive weight from behind shoved Geoffrey into a wooden bookshelf against a wall. Books fell on his shoulder and back. The Asian man slid to the side of Geoffrey's body, exposing his head. He was a bit too close, but Geoffrey hammered his head with his fists anyway, in short, tight jabs like his coach had taught him. The man grunted and his grip around Geoffrey's torso slackened.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Maylin flinging open the office door. She must have gotten free from the man holding her. Her cries shot down the hallway, "Help! Someone call the police!"

The smaller man said something frantic in Chinese. The larger man straightened and swung a massive fist at Geoffrey's face. Geoffrey arched back and the blow only glanced off his ear.

Then the two men were gone, flying out the open door.

Geoffrey followed. The two men shoved nurses aside as they ran down the hallway, out of the clinic. Maylin lay sprawled on the floor near the wall a few yards away.

"Are you all right?" Geoffrey knelt beside her, automatically checking for blood. As his fingers brushed the bare skin of her neck, his hand tingled. He had never been this close to her before, had never noticed the drifting threads of scent—cherry blossom and pear and redwood forest.

"I'm fine. One of them pushed me as he was running past." She was breathing heavily and her hand shook, but her chin was set at a stubborn angle. She reached up to touch his temple. "How's your head?"

As if in answer, the throbbing suddenly pushed against his eye socket. "I'm fine. I didn't hit the wall very hard."

"You're a lot stronger than you look."

He had to smile at that backhanded compliment.

She blushed fiercely. "I mean ... you punched him like it was nothing."

Geoffrey rubbed his knuckles. He'd become used to the lightweight grappling gloves used when sparring, and when he hit the larger man bare-fisted, he'd felt the blows up his arm. "Since I came back to Sonoma, I've been training at that mixed martial arts gym in town. You reacted pretty well yourself."