One of the many skills he’d learned in the military was to keep his voice mild when his temper was spiking.
“Oh, no,” she said, stabilizing herself by grabbing the oh shit handle above her head. “I’m not giving you a thing until you spill it all. Not this time.”
Darn stubborn woman. He slowed the car as he caught sight of two kids tossing a football in front of a well-lit mansion. Shouldn’t they be in bed? It was after midnight.
She cleared her throat. “When you picked me up after I kicked you—you weren’t really going to . . .”
He sped by a cul-de-sac and headed for the exit, hitting the brakes as the gate slowly started to open. “I said I would.” They’d both been undercover, and he’d provided warning. “Have I ever lied to you?”
“Probably,” she returned, her voice a mite snappy. “You have no idea what hell you would’ve unleashed.”
Amusement flitted through him like a ghost of the sense of humor he’d had years ago. He turned to face her, his gaze dropping to the sexy corset. “You don’t think I could spank you?”
A startling pink flushed up from her breasts to her face, catching his attention as her cheeks darkened. Then her eyes sparked. Fascinating. Absolutely fascinating. He focused back on the infuriatingly slow gate. “I’ve never lied to you, Dana.” He never would, either.
“Maybe you haven’t lied, but you sure don’t tell—” She yelped as bullets impacted the vehicle.
In one smooth motion, he grabbed the back of her neck and bent her, shoving her torso below the window while pressing hard on the gas pedal. The car lurched through the gate, which scraped along the passenger side, flicking sparks.
To her credit, she didn’t struggle. “You think they’re shooting at you or me?” Her voice was muffled against her legs.
“Good question.” Trusting her to remain down, he released her to put both hands on the wheel and zip out to a main traffic artery, searching for the enemy in the rearview mirror. “I think they shot from the bushes at the exit. Hopefully no vehicle near.”
A black truck swerved around the corner behind them, its headlights cutting through the darkness. He’d spoken too soon.
She partially rose up to look over her shoulder. “You have a gun?”
“Where would I put a gun in this outfit?” He wouldn’t be able to lose the truck in this small vehicle.
She coughed, her eyes wide, her face pale. “How are you so calm right now?” Her soft voice rose to almost shrill.
“Training?” He ripped around another corner and had to swerve to avoid a woman walking a poodle. Why wasn’t anybody in bed at the damn late hour? “I don’t feel things like other people do, not anymore.” The truck was getting closer.
“As much as I like you opening up, maybe we should talk about your emotions later? After we get rid of these guys?” she gasped.
“Good point.” One of the advantages of his lack of emotion was that the adrenaline flooding his system focused him. Keeping calm and rational was the only way they’d get out of this. He drove up the on-ramp to the interstate just as bullets grazed the back of the bug. If one hit a tire at this speed, the car would roll. “Hold on.” He swerved in and out of traffic, ignoring the blaring horns. An elderly lady in a massive Buick missing a headlight flipped him the bird and he moved onto the shoulder, increasing speed. The truck followed.
At the last second, he veered across multiple lanes of traffic and shot down an off-ramp, barreling through a red light and swerving onto a busy street.
He skidded, hit the brakes, turned the car, and accelerated again.
Dana sat fully up, her blond hair flying over the back of the seat. “I should’ve brought a gun,” she muttered.
“Why?” He turned the wheel and drove the car to the rear of a fast-food joint, whipping around to face the main street. The VW was partially hidden behind the building and foliage as well as the darkness of night.
“To shoot,” she muttered.
He kept his hands light on the wheel. “You can’t get into a shootout on a busy street. This isn’t the movies.”
She rolled her eyes. “Do you have to be so literal all the time?”
He mulled the question over. “Yeah. I think so.” Several minutes passed without any sighting of the black truck. He tugged his phone from his back pocket, wincing as he caught his fingers in the tight leather of the pants. Hitting speed dial, he waited until Angus Force, his boss, picked up.
“What?” Force snarled.
Great. He was in another mood. “Have someone drop off my truck at . . .” Wolfe flipped open the jockey box to pull out the rental agreement and read quickly. “Squishy’s Car Rental on Third Street.” He clicked off before Force could ask questions, turning to face Dana. “We’ll get rid of the car, fetch your things, and then you can come home with me.”
She faltered. “I’m not going home with you.”
“Sure, you are.” Sometimes things were so clear to him, he truly couldn’t understand how anybody else could be confused. “Either those guys were shooting at you—”
“Or maybe you,” she countered, her fragile chin lifting.
He nodded. “Or maybe me. In which case, they surely got the plates of this thing and will investigate the hot blonde in the passenger seat. Even though it’s dark, their headlights were bright enough to get the license plate and your hair color. The guys after me wouldn’t hesitate to go through you to get to me.”
She rubbed her nose. “What guys are after you? I mean, besides the guys in the black truck, who could be after me and not you.”
There were too many guys after too many people. He had to take care of his problems sooner rather than later, and he needed to ensure her safety first. “I like you.” The words rolled out, surprising him.
She drew back, confusion clouding her emerald eyes for the briefest of seconds. “I like you, too.”
“I don’t have many friends, Dana.” It was hard to find the right words, especially when dealing with someone who used words all the time in her work. She was an excellent journalist and writer, and he knew he wasn’t putting this right. “You’re my friend, and I can’t let you get hurt.” There. That made sense.
Her shoulders relaxed. “You’re my friend, too, but I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time, Wolfe. I’m on a story, one that matters to me, and I’m not letting up.”
Her tenacity and dedication had impressed him from the beginning of their friendship. Oh, if she were tough or hardened, they would’ve taken it temporarily beyond friendship. But she was sweet and soft and kind . . . and he was none of those things. Probably never had been. “Would you please relocate to my place while we figure out what’s happening with both of our cases?”
She blinked. “You just said please.”
“Yeah.”
