High Society Sabotage. Kathleen Long

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was after. His money? His connections? History showed it would be one or the other. It always was.

      Before he could give the topic another thought, Sara leaned forward and tried to yell something to him. The noise of the bike’s engine and the thickness of the helmet he wore muffled her voice.

      He shook his head to let her know he hadn’t made out a word she’d said. He dropped a look to his rearview mirror just as she extricated one arm from around his waist and leaned forward, jerking her thumb toward the road behind them.

      Kyle knew what she was referring to as soon as she made the gesture. He was already studying the approaching headlights in the mirror.

      The vehicle appeared to be an SUV. Dark. Sleek. Heavily tinted windows.

      Not your average drive-in-the-mountains fare.

      The SUV moved dangerously close to the rear tire of the bike and Kyle accelerated, adrenaline surging to life inside him.

      Was the guy behind him nuts? Or was he challenging him to a little road race?

      The SUV pulled into the oncoming lane as they approached the next hairpin turn.

      What in the—?

      Kyle maneuvered away from the too-close black vehicle, yet still maintained control of the bike.

      “Hold on,” he yelled into the mountain air, knowing Sara most likely couldn’t hear a thing.

      Her arms tightened around his waist, bolstering his resolve to get them away from the maniac in the SUV.

      They cleared the curve, but the SUV swerved toward them in the straightaway, pushing Kyle and Sara dangerously close to the edge of the cliff.

      Kyle gritted his teeth, determined not to lose control. His father had been killed in an accident and Kyle had no intention of carrying on the family tradition.

      The next hairpin turn approached. Kyle knew they wouldn’t make it. They’d have to ditch, but how would he be able to warn Sara?

      The SUV swung toward them, brushing mere inches from their legs. Sara screamed something, but Kyle couldn’t make it out.

      Damn it. It would be bad enough if he were alone on the bike, but with Sara on the back, he was responsible for saving not just himself, but also the beautiful stranger.

      The SUV swerved again, and the front tire of the motorcycle nipped into the rocks and dirt along the edge of the cliff. They faltered, and the bike bobbled from side to side.

      The SUV accelerated out around the next curve and out of sight, as if the driver knew what was about to happen, knew he’d succeeded in his dangerous game.

      Kyle did his best to slow the motorcycle without losing complete control, but it was too late.

      The tires went out from under the bike and they were sliding, dirt and gravel flying, obscuring his view. They slid, and pain exploded through Kyle as the weight of the bike did its damage. Sara’s arms suddenly were no longer around his waist and fear ripped through him.

      Had she gone over the cliff? Had she been injured—or worse—because of him?

      That was the question haunting Kyle as the mountain fell away beneath him and he and his Harley went over the edge.

      Chapter Three

      Sara spit the dirt out of her mouth and reached for the strap of her helmet even as she launched herself into action.

      She’d been able to jump from the motorcycle as they wrecked, but Kyle hadn’t been so lucky. She’d tried to tell him to jump, but he’d no doubt been unable to hear her above the noise of the motorcycle’s engine.

      He and the bike were nowhere to be seen. When Sara spotted a telltale gash in the earth at the edge of the road, bile clawed its way up her throat.

      It would take a miracle to survive a fall over the cliff.

      She scrambled toward the edge of the roadway, ignoring the pain in every muscle in her body. She held her breath as she peered over the edge, utter amazement ripping through her at the sight of Kyle sprawled on a section of rock just below her. The bike, however, was nowhere to be found.

      “Kyle!”

      Sara yelled his name when she spotted movement in his arms and legs. To her amazement, he pulled himself into a sitting position, each move an obvious struggle.

      “You’re all right?” He spat out the words as he tipped his face toward her, pulling off his helmet as he did so.

      The arrogance so prevalent in his expression just minutes earlier was gone. Instead, he searched her face, sincere concern plastered across his features.

      Sara nodded, surprised by the absence of any hint of self-awareness on his part.

      “Are you hurt badly?” she asked.

      He shook his head. “I’ll live.”

      She dropped onto her belly, reaching for him. “Give me your hands.”

      Kyle gave her one hand while he used the other to pull himself up the jagged face of the section of mountain.

      Sara pulled with all her might, being careful to let him set the pace. When he cleared the top, he dropped onto his side, wincing in pain. His shirt had been ripped and blood seeped through the white fabric in several spots.

      She reached for him, but caught herself at the last moment, deciding against the move. “We have to get you help.”

      He shook his head, the muscles in his jaw tensing. “We have to get back. Get you checked out.”

      “I’m all right. A bit battered, but nothing’s broken.”

      He gave his head another shake. “We still need to get you cleaned up.”

      Sara glanced up and down the road. They’d encountered no other vehicle during their trip except the SUV. “Any ideas?”

      Kyle pulled off his boot and reached inside, pressing something along the seam.

      “What are you doing?”

      He lifted his pale gaze to hers and gave her a weak smile. “Automatic tracking signal.”

      “You have got to be kidding me.” She shook her head, letting a laugh of relief slide between her lips.

      He shot her a wink. “Never underestimate the power of technology.”

      KYLE LEANED into the stream of steaming water pouring from the showerhead, his palms splayed against the cool tile. He’d been lucky. Bumped and bruised and he’d no doubt feel much worse in the morning, but he’d survived. That was a whole lot more than he could say for his bike.

      He’d dropped Sara at her home and sent her car over with one of TCM’s drivers. His personal physician had followed close behind.

      Dr.

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