out, and she hated that something like a simple touch on her arm could just soothe. She’d never understood it, but Gabby would hug her back in that bunker, and even out here in the open, and everything would feel okay. This guy, this stranger of a Texas Ranger, touched her, and it felt like she could handle whatever came if he was touching her.
It was insanity.
“If they bugged your office, it’s likely they’ve bugged your house.”
Alyssa thought of her little apartment above Gabby and Jaime’s garage. Was it bugged? Was the whole house bugged? Had she brought all of her family’s problems into the house they’d been kind enough to open up to her?
Guilt swamped her, pain. Tears threatened, but she wouldn’t be that weak. She’d fix this. She had to fix this.
“Come home with me.”
She jerked her head up to look at Ranger Stevens and carefully pulled herself out of his grasp. Everything in her rebelled at the idea of going home with him. His house. His life. Him.
“I have a big house. Multiple rooms. You can have your own bathroom, your own space. We can get some sleep, and in the morning we can talk knowing that no one has bugged my place.”
“They know who you are now. If they bugged my place, they know your name. They know what you’re after.”
He seemed to consider that with more weight than she thought he would. “All right. I have somewhere else we can go. It might require a little bending of the truth.”
Alyssa frowned at him. “What kind of bending of the truth?”
“We’ll just need to pretend this isn’t related to my job. That you’re not so much a professional acquaintance but a, ah, personal one.”
“Where the hell are you taking me?” she demanded, touching her bike to remind herself she was free. He couldn’t take her anywhere unless she agreed.
And if you go home, would you be putting Gabby and Jaime in jeopardy?
“My parents have a guesthouse. I use it on occasion when necessary. I can say I’m having my house painted or remodeled or something and they’ll believe it, if they’re even home. But if I’m bringing you with me, they’re going to need to think...” He cleared his throat.
Alyssa’s mouth went slack as it dawned on her what he was suggesting. “You want me to pretend to be involved with you like...sleeping-over involved?” Her voice squeaked and her entire face heated. Her whole body heated. She’d never been sleeping-over involved with anyone, and she was pretty sure that was a really lame way of putting it, but she didn’t know how else to say it.
She didn’t know how to wrap her head around what he was suggesting.
“My parents aren’t invasive exactly. Actually, they’re incredibly invasive, but like I said, it’s unlikely they’re there. They have some of the best security in Austin, so we’ll be safe, or at least forewarned. Should one of the staff mention I had a woman over, then they’ll assume it’s personal and we’ll just go with it.”
“Your parents have a guesthouse and staff?”
“Your father runs a drug cartel?” he returned in the same put-off tone.
She wanted to laugh even though it wasn’t funny in the least little bit. “No one’s going to believe I’m involved with...you.”
Something in his expression changed, a softening followed by an all-too-charming smile that had her heart beating hard against her chest.
“Am I that hideous?” he asked, clearly knowing full well he was not.
“You know what I mean. I look like a street urchin,” she said, waving a hand down her front. “You look like...” She waved her hand ineffectually at him.
He cocked his head. “I look like what?” he asked, and there was something a little darker in his tone. Dangerous. But cops weren’t dangerous. Not like that.
“I don’t know,” she muttered, knowing she had to be blushing so profusely even the bad lighting couldn’t hide it. “A guy who has servants and guesthouses and crap.”
“They’ll believe it because there’s no reason not to. Street-urchin chic or no, my parents wouldn’t doubt me. They might assume I’m trying to give them an aneurism, but they won’t suspect anything.”
Alyssa looked at her bike. She could hop on, flip him off and zoom away. Zoom away from everything she’d built in the past two years, zoom away from everything that had held her prisoner for the first twenty-two.
But she hadn’t left Austin on her release from her kidnapper, and she had people to protect now. She couldn’t leave Gabby and Natalie in the middle of this, even if they were both married to men or living with men who would try to protect them.
She studied Ranger Stevens and knew she had to make a choice. Fight, and trust this man. Or run, and ruin them all.
It wasn’t a hard choice in the slightest. “All right. I’ll go.”
Bennet drove from the Texas Ranger offices to his parents’ sprawling estate outside Austin. It wasn’t the first time he’d been self-conscious about his parents’ wealth. Most of the cops and Rangers he knew were not the sons and daughters of the Texas elite.
Nevertheless, this was the life he’d been born into, and Alyssa hadn’t been born into a much different one. Just on opposite sides of the law, but if her father was the Jimenez kingpin, then she’d had her share of wealth.
She followed him, the roar of her motorcycle cutting through the quiet of the wealthy neighborhood enough to make him wince. There would be phone calls. There would be a lot of things. But the most important thing was they were going somewhere that couldn’t have been infiltrated.
He drove up the sprawling drive after entering the code for the gate and hoped against hope his father was in DC and his mother was at a function or, well, anywhere but here. Because while they might ignore his presence, maybe, they would never ignore the presence of the motorcycle.
Parking at the top of the drive, he got out of his running car and punched the code into the garage door so it opened.
“This is a guesthouse?” Alyssa called out over the sound of her motorcycle.
Bennet nodded as the garage door went up. He walked back to his car and motioned for her to park inside the garage. Maybe if the evidence was hidden, and it was late enough, it was possible no one would notice the disturbance. A man could dream.
Alyssa walked her motorcycle into the garage and killed the engine. She pulled off her helmet. It seemed no matter how often her hair tumbled out like that, his idiotic body had a reaction. He really needed to get a handle on that.
“Follow me,” he said, probably too tersely. But he felt terse and uncomfortable. He felt a lot of things he didn’t want to think about.
He slid the key he
