Relentless. Jan Hambright

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Relentless - Jan Hambright Mills & Boon Intrigue

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as hard as stone. She didn’t know if her reasoning could find a catch hold, but she had to try.

      “You locked us in here together. I deserve an explanation for that.” He continued to watch her with eyes the color of shallow seawater.

      “I’m not a car thief.” Desperation diced her composure to bits. “This car has been repossessed, legally. I have the paperwork. I didn’t steal it.”

      “Prove it. Take me back to Otis’s.”

      “You can’t be serious. You’re in no condition to go anywhere but Mercy Hospital.”

      “I hope you like jail.”

      Her pulse jackhammered at her temples. He wanted to go back into the swamp?

      “You’ve got a first aid kit.”

      “You’re nuts. He shot at us. At me. Who’s to say he won’t kill us next time?” The thought rattled her bones.

      “Get the kit.”

      She scrambled to her feet and grabbed the medical supplies she always carried. He had to be crazy if he thought he could do this. Cops thrived on danger, but blood loss didn’t take the testosterone level into consideration. He’d be at Mercy before dawn and she’d be in jail or dead. The victim of a drunk wielding a shotgun.

      “Put a dressing on it. It’ll hold until I get to Otis.”

      “You need more than a dressing.”

      He pulled his T-shirt farther up, his jaw locked against the pain. Muscle tensed just under his skin and she watched him stiffen. Desire drummed deep in her body.

      “What are you going to do? Arrest him?” She felt his stare as if it was solid, looked into his eyes and pressed the thick pad against his wound.

      For an instant he closed heavy-lashed lids over pain-clouded green eyes, but opened them almost immediately.

      “Why do I need Otis?”

      “How about him shooting at us for starters. And he did this.” She nodded to the bandage she pressed to his side. “He assaulted you first.”

      A half smile arched his mouth, but vanished as quickly as it had appeared. “I have a Robear in custody. I’m doing my job.”

      She’d taken the family career track? Was that what he thought? “Let’s get you to my car before you pass out. You don’t have to be conscious when I drive you to the hospital.”

      He forced his palm down on her hand. Heat burned into her fingers and sent a jolt of current through her body. She tried to pull away, but couldn’t escape his touch or the awareness it evoked.

      “You will take me to Otis.” He was so close, she could see beads of sweat form on his upper lip. “If you don’t, you’ll serve time when I’m done with you.”

      “Okay. Okay!”

      He released his hand from hers and she felt him shudder.

      “I’ll open the lock.” Kate moved away from him and fished the bloody key out of her pocket. If she didn’t get him out of here soon, he’d pass out.

      Hand shaking, she fit the key into the padlock and raised the metal door. He was on his feet by the time she returned to his side. He slid his gun into the waistband of his pants. At least someone could shoot back this time.

      “Get your stuff, MacGyver.” He glared at her. “Nice and slow.”

      Kate jammed her things into her backpack and zipped it shut. There was no way out except going into the bayou with him.

      “His place is about seven miles from here on the edge of Bayou Gauche.” She pulled his arm over her shoulders.

      He walked on his own, but leaned heavily on her, pressed close to her side. His body heat radiated into her and pulled her nerves thin, doubling her discomfort, but she couldn’t run away. Couldn’t escape the myriad of opposing sensations that targeted her mind and body.

      A fine drizzle fell outside. She settled him into the passenger seat of her Bronco and hurried around to the driver’s side. Kate started the engine and rolled out of the lot, letting the flip-flop of the windshield wipers calm her nerves. What a mess she’d gotten herself in tonight. Life had just become immensely more complicated thanks to the angry, wounded cop in the passenger seat next to her.

      “You do know you’re in the middle of my investigation?”

      She gave him a sideways glance and refocused on the road. “I didn’t know cops liked to hide out in car trunks. You’re in the middle of my repo job.”

      “A man’s got to get creative. You picked a bad night to take his ride.”

      “Some ride.” Kate killed the lights as she made the turn just short of the house. “No sense getting him fired up.” She cut the engine, rolling the last twenty feet. She’d learned to be quiet and invisible. “There it is.”

      The single bulb over the house numbers still burned in the darkness. The bathroom light shone at the side of the house.

      “Just like I left it. He’s probably in his crib, sleeping like a baby.

      “How did you find this place?”

      “My boss gave me the information.”

      Mick pulled his pistol out of his waistband and checked his rounds. “Who is this boss of yours? Has he got a name?”

      “I don’t give out that information.”

      “You will.” He snapped the cylinder shut. He’d catch Otis in his bed, arrest him and take him downtown. Any leads he’d have gotten with the tracking device in place were gone now, but he had her. It wouldn’t surprise him if she knew more than she was telling.

      The pain in his side had turned to a dull ache. He’d been in rougher shape a couple of times, but he’d never been assaulted by a Robear. Certainly not by a female one who was short on details and long on looks. He hadn’t even known the strange breed existed, until tonight. “Stay here.”

      He climbed out of her Bronco and stood still, listening to the sounds of the night. The rain had stopped, but there was a dampness in the air that penetrated through his skin. He turned the collar up on his jacket. It had been a long time since he’d been in the bayou without the sun overhead. He glanced at Whittley’s house and scanned the darkness.

      The night was strangely still. His caution level rose. Beyond the thick mesh of trees protecting the house, he heard movement in the water. A slow rhythmic slosh, like the dip of a paddle. Then it stopped. Probably an alligator courting a meal.

      Striding across the road in a zigzag pattern, he made it to the porch. A rickety stairway approached the front door from the left. He stepped up onto the first stair. The rotten wood moaned under his weight. He skipped the next two and made the landing without a sound.

      The screen door dangled from a single hinge. Otis had been in some kind of a hurry to stop Kate from taking the car.

      He

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