“No, I—” She hesitated when she realized he was poking fun at her.
“Goin’ all the way back to England?”
“No. I’m traveling to New Hampshire. I’m starting a new job there.” She glanced cautiously to her right. His voice had an edge to it that hadn’t been there a few minutes earlier. “What’s wrong, now? You look a little green. Are you feeling all right?”
“No, lady. I’m not having one of my best days. Matter of fact, I feel like hell.” He ran one hand along his unshaven jawline as though he were uncertain of what to do next. The white lines around his mouth took on stark relief in his coppery, tanned face.
“I hate to ask, and I hope you’ll understand, but I really must know whether you’re a good guy or a bad guy.” She hesitated a moment and then plunged on before he had time to respond. “And if you are a good guy, then could you please point that thing away from me? It’s rather nerve-racking.”
His eyes registered shock and Jillian wasn’t sure if it was at her audacity or if he simply found her question too stupid to respond to. Whatever the reason, it had the desired effect. She heard a little click as he did something to the gun and pointed it at the floor.
“I’m…a good guy, I guess. Although I know I don’t look like one. I’m a special agent with the DEA. I’d show you my badge if I had it, but I’ve been working undercover, so you’re gonna have to take my word on it for the moment.”
“What’s the DEA?”
“Drug Enforcement Agency. What you just experienced back there was a drug bust gone south.”
“Gone south?” Her gaze left the road for a moment to slide over his. She still hadn’t mastered driving on the wrong side of the road, so she didn’t let her eyes rest on him for very long. Just long enough to see the flash of an earring in his ear. A small stud that was nearly hidden by long strands of wavy, golden hair. He reminded her of one of the surfers she’d seen on the telly.
“Yeah, south. Fu— I mean, screwed up. Those guys back there weren’t supposed to get away. I thought I had ’em, but something went wrong. I was lucky to get out alive.” He shifted uncomfortably on the floor. His frame was so large she simply couldn’t imagine how he’d wedged himself in down there to begin with.
“You smell sort of…like you’re on fire.”
“That was the explosion.”
“Explosion? What explosion?”
“Jeez, lady. Try to stay in one lane, okay?”
She righted the car and swallowed hard. Her heart was lodged in her throat again. “I think you can come up now.” She checked the rearview mirror.
“Is this your car or a rental?”
“It’s a rental. Why?”
“I don’t want to get blood all over the seat.”
“Blood,” she cried as she turned to look down at him. Unfortunately the car moved with her and she careered across a lane of traffic before steadying the wheel. “Good Lord, you’re shot!”
“Dammit. Stop doing that or I’ll end up with a heart attack.”
“I’ve got to get you to a hospital.” Lord only knew what this would do to her schedule.
Jillian bit her lip and carefully glanced down at him. She shouldn’t be thinking like that. The poor man was shot. “Tell me where it is and I’ll take you there, straightaway.”
“No dice. Not till I know what went wrong back there. I can’t risk going to the hospital.” He stifled a groan as he tried to hoist himself up onto the passenger seat. “Just give me a minute to figure out what to do next.”
Her gaze ran over him, searching for the gaping hole she knew had to be somewhere on his body. “Where were you shot?”
The stranger groaned louder and finessed his large frame into the seat. “I suppose I should be grateful. I mean, I wasn’t wearing a vest or anything.” His sigh was one of relief when he finally eased back against the passenger seat cushions. “But it still hurts.”
“Where? You’re not going to die on me, are you?”
“No, lady. I don’t think I’m that lucky. He shot me in the ass.”
It took all the restraint she had not to burst out laughing. But the white line around his mouth and the beads of sweat on his forehead convinced her this was not a laughing matter.
“Who’s shot in the ass?”
The stranger nearly flew out of his seat before whirling around to find the voice. The blood had drained from his face when he turned back to face Jillian. “Sweet Jesus! You’ve got three kids back there. Why didn’t you say something?”
“Well, there really hasn’t been time yet. I mean, what with the guns and the chase thing going on.” She tilted the rearview mirror back to the rear seat and found James’s questioning eyes. “This is James, who is six years old and who is going to be very quiet for the next few minutes, right, love?”
James ignored her, turning to stare at the stranger. “Are you shot in the ass? Is it a big hole? Can I see it?”
“James! Please do not say ‘ass’ again. If I hear that word come out of your mouth, I will wash it out with soap.” She darted a reproving look at the stranger. “I would appreciate it if you could please curse more quietly. James knows better, but Samuel is only three.”
The stranger stared at her as though she’d lost her mind. And frankly, perhaps she bloody well had. Jillian had been thinking for the past several days that she truly must be crazy. To give up her comfortable, predictable life back home to face this…wilderness. She’d inherited not only a new country and a new job, but three small children to boot. And in the move, she’d lost Ian. He’d wanted no part of her adventure. Especially not the inheritance part.
“What’s his name, Jilly?”
Her thoughts interrupted, she turned startled eyes to the stranger. “Why, I don’t—”
“Gianetti. Lucas—Luke Gianetti.”
He smiled for the first time, a small, tight smile of pain and frustration. But oh, my. What a smile. Why, he’d be absolutely devastating if he put his mind to it. She’d bet he would clean up well, too. He desperately needed a shave and a haircut, although truthfully, his hair was such a wonderful shade of gold that he looked rather dangerous with it long and wild.
“And you’re Jilly?”
“Jillian, actually. Jillian Moseby.”
“S’nice to meet you, Jillian.” He reached across to shake her hand and she noticed he’d left the gun on the floor. He turned and waved over his shoulder to James. “Nice to meet you, James. What’s the other little one’s name?”
“That’s my baby sister, Sarah. She’s only four months old. She cries a lot when she’s not
