she threw her head up, a curtain of ebony hair flying back from her face. The lights were behind him, cutting through the gloom, offering him a clear view of her expression.
Huge, frightened eyes blinked up at him. Sure she was about to bolt, he tightened his hold on her arms.
He quickly took stock of the situation, spotting the alley she’d come out of, the opening so tucked away in the shadows he never would have noticed it.
He could feel her pulse beneath his thumbs, the double-time throb of her heart beneath the thin layers of her clothing. Combined with the look of shock in her eyes, it was obvious she was terrified. Of him?
When she said nothing, he shook her gently. “Lady, are you all right?”
It took a second. Some of the fear in her eyes faded, replaced by confusion. She blinked and shook her head as though trying to clear it. He wondered if she was on drugs, only to dismiss the idea a moment later. Her eyes were clear and unerringly focused on his face. Her gaze was probing, searching his features for something, some semblance of familiarity, he supposed. She wouldn’t find any. He never forgot a face, and he knew they’d never met.
“You’re not one of them,” she murmured, the words little more than a whisper carried on the wind. Still, there was something about her voice…
“One of who?” He regretted asking as soon as the words were out. Whatever this woman was into, he wasn’t interested. He had problems enough of his own without worrying about someone else’s. He needed to extricate himself from her situation, not dig in deeper. With each passing second, Taylor was getting that much farther away.
Before she could answer, the sounds of footsteps pounding down the alley she’d just emerged from reached them. No doubt whoever she was running from coming after her.
They both glanced toward the sound. She whipped her head back to face him a split second later. Steely determination had replaced the fear in her eyes, the transformation so complete she seemed to have become an entirely different person. He stared stupidly at the new stranger she’d become.
“Help me,” she said, her voice as forceful as her expression. “Don’t let him find me.”
She’d managed to surprise him for the second time in half as many seconds. Not because of her demand or the sudden strength of her voice. No, it was her accent, now unmistakable and wholly out of place in this Midwestern city.
She was from New York.
She didn’t give him a chance to process that simple fact. With one more glance over her shoulder, she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him flat against her. At the same time, she twisted, throwing them both back into a small recess in the wall, so that he was pinning her against it.
He understood immediately. Anyone who came out of that alley would likely pass by without even knowing they were there.
And if he did…
Her hands wound themselves into his hair, pulling his head close. For a moment, he was sure she was going to kiss him. It was the oldest trick in the book: pretend to be lovers to mislead anyone who was looking for one person, not two. He was almost disappointed she would resort to it.
The rest of him waited for it, remembering just how long it had been since he’d had a woman. His self-imposed solitude had had one major drawback.
It never happened.
She caught him off guard—again. She came close enough that it would look like they were kissing, but far enough that they weren’t. They were enclosed in almost complete darkness, isolated in a cocoon of night. He could only see her eyes. They stared up at him, beseeching, pleading with him not to pull away, not to make a sound, not to reveal their position.
Ross didn’t move.
It wasn’t because of her silent plea. It was because, even now, moments later, the sound of her voice echoed in his ears. Her accent was straight out of the Bronx, if his ear wasn’t too rusty. And he knew, in a flash of knowledge so instinctive he didn’t dare question it, that this was the person Roy Taylor was looking for.
Taylor was the man chasing her.
Immediately the events of the past few minutes began to shift in Ross’s mind, realigning themselves, taking on new, complicated meanings. Suddenly the warm, pliant and frightened woman in his arms was no longer a casual stranger, but someone who had real importance in his life.
If she was running from Taylor, she had reason to be afraid. More than one.
At last someone burst out of the alley and skidded to a halt. Then came a muffled curse, the sound offering the confirmation he needed. He knew that voice.
Taylor.
He must have stiffened in spite of himself, the need to go after the man that keyed into his system. Taylor was just a few feet away, right behind him. He didn’t know Ross was there. All Ross had to do was turn around and he had him.
The woman’s hands tightened in his hair, not enough to hurt but more than enough to let him know she didn’t intend to let him go.
It was the only reminder he needed. Ross stayed where he was, peering down at the woman in the dark. Though he never would have believed it, he had something more important than Taylor. He had something Taylor wanted. And something Taylor was willing to jump bail to pursue had to be very important indeed.
Though she made no sound, her chest rose and fell in a ragged pattern, causing her breasts to rub against his body in an unconsciously erotic fashion. In spite of himself, he felt his groin tighten.
Only the hard-won self-control forged after so many years kept him from moving. He remained pinned against her, feeling every inch of her body pressed against his, her soft, sweet breath brushing his face, until he forgot everything—Taylor, Chastain, everything. There was nothing but him and this woman, a stranger who’d suddenly taken on a vast importance in his life.
He didn’t even know her name.
It wasn’t until it began to rain, fat, wet drops falling heavily on his head, that reality returned. Clarity came, as rude an awakening as the rain.
“Is he gone?”
Her voice contained the slightest tremor. He wasn’t sure of the cause—him or Taylor. Not that it mattered.
He listened carefully, hearing nothing but the patter of rain on the pavement and the echo of thunder in the distance. When he finally pushed away from her, her fingers loosening their hold, the back of his head was drenched.
“Is he gone?” she asked again. She dropped her hands but couldn’t move away. He literally had her up against a wall.
“I think so.”
She nodded quickly, pursing her lips and dropping her head. He could see she was just beginning to notice how vulnerable her position was. There was a distinct wariness in her eyes now. No doubt she was beginning to wonder who the man was she’d just pressed herself against in a darkened street corner, trusting he was less of a danger than the one she was fleeing. Now she had to be wondering whether he was truly a lesser danger.
It was a good question. He doubted she would like the answer.
