The only light in the office was the brass lamp on her desk. Webb hauled her into the shadows and shoved her down on the sofa, roughly groped her breasts though her cashmere sweater, started dragging up her long, dark green wool skirt, clothes she had chosen for Edge’s party, before she decided she couldn’t handle seeing him again.

Skye waited till the skirt was above her knees, then lashed out with her good leg, managing to kick Webb in the groin with her leather ankle boot.

“You bitch!” Hissing a curse, Webb’s hand went to his crotch, and he bent over in pain. Furious, he grabbed her ankle and jerked her off the sofa onto the floor, then drew back his boot to kick her in the ribs.

The blow never landed. Instead, Webb’s powerful leg went flying upward, knocking him off balance, his body landing hard on the floor.

Edge!

Klaus’s fist doubled up as he raced across the room to aid his friend. Swinging a hard punch Edge ducked, the Viking recovered and swung again, but Edge was ready. Whirling, he jumped and high-kicked Klaus in the face, sending him spinning backward to land hard against the wall.

Webb was back on his feet, gun in hand. Edge knocked the gun aside and punched Webb in the stomach hard enough to double him over; then Edge slammed the ridge of his hand against the side of Webb’s neck, hitting his carotid artery. Webb went down as if his legs had been cut off at the knees.

Klaus charged like a bull. Skye stuck her good leg out and tripped him as he ran past, and Klaus went flying. Edge grabbed his head as he staggered past and slammed it into the wall. Klaus and Webb were both down and out.

Skye looked up as Edge ran toward her. Crouching on the floor at her side, he pulled her into his arms.

“I’ve got you. Everything’s okay. They won’t hurt you again.” Dragging out his pocketknife, he cut the duct tape binding her wrists, eased her up from the floor and back into his arms. Skye could feel him trembling.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he repeated, then drew in a steadying breath. “I’m calling an ambulance. How bad are you hurt?”

Skye shook her head. “No ambulance. No way. I don’t need an ambulance—I’m okay.” She hurt all over, but it wasn’t pain that made tears well in her eyes. It was the way Edge was holding her, as if she were something precious, as if she was the most important person in the world.

He kissed the top of her head, eased her up to her feet, swept her up, and carried her over to the sofa.