computer programmers with grenade launchers. Then there was all that “yes, sir; no, sir” business on the phone, and him wanting to “come in.”
He was looking in the rearview mirror and ignoring her. Straight nose, strong jawline and shortcropped dark brown hair. He had a singular focus and an easy grace to his lean body.
“Are you in the witness protection program?”
He took forever to respond. “Kind of.”
Oh, God. Anger flooded her circuits. He had no right to drag her into his dirty business. “Could you be any vaguer?”
“You bet.” He looked at her with his caramel brown eyes, which were fringed with thick, dark lashes. “There’s a confidentiality issue.”
What on earth had she ever done to deserve this from the universe?
She had to be honest—she didn’t much care for the man. He was insufferable for the most part, the kind of neighbor people prayed wouldn’t move in next door. She did her best not to let him get a rise out of her with every outrageous act or comment—and failed often. And she had trained herself not to ogle or respond to his magnificent body, not even if he purposely taunted her by mowing the lawn in nothing but a pair of tattered blue jeans. But his eyes got to her every time. And there was no avoiding them, because if she dropped her gaze, she was confronted with his mile-wide chest.
“It’s for your own protection,” he added.
“I don’t want your kind of protection.” She was lucky he hadn’t killed her when they’d jumped from the balcony. Her heart raced all over again just thinking about it. Or maybe she just hadn’t had a chance to calm down fully yet.
He had stepped up on her railing—which she should have replaced when she’d installed the French doors, but had run out of money—and then he had stepped out into nothing. Air. His arms had been like steel brackets around her. For a surreal moment, he had morphed into some kind of action hero. Or villain. She hadn’t quite decided yet which one.
“I don’t want to go with you.”
“Too bad,” he said, without looking at her.
That was so like the man. Stubborn and rude. Insufferable. From the moment he had moved in, they had fought over everything, from the noise she made working in her garage to the oil his car leaked all over the driveway. He’d claimed her music was too loud. He’d knocked over her favorite flagpole and flat out refused to fix it. He might have a great body and gorgeous eyes, but manners he had none.
He’d had the gall to yell at Zak for tapping into his wireless. Why? It didn’t cost him any extra if Zak used it. She had dial-up, but Zak had wanted something faster. The troubled teen—who, by the way, was a computer genius, but would Cade notice that and take him under his wing a little? Oh, noooo—did deserve some distraction when his life as he knew it was falling apart. Cade Palmer was selfish and mean to kids.
And a kidnapper.
“You can’t take me God knows where against my will. Explain to me why we can’t go to the police.”
“This is beyond the police. As soon as I can be sure that it’s safe to let you go, I will. Put on your seat belt.”
So she couldn’t easily jump from the car when he stopped for a light? Not a chance. “What do you mean, beyond the police?”
He ignored her, which made her want to beat him over the head with something. Just her luck that he’d stolen a car without as much as a baseball bat on the backseat. “Where are we going?”
He took a sharp turn, and she slid hard into the door. She shot him a glare before reaching for her seat belt.
“Stay low.” He picked up speed, then took two turns in quick succession, watching the rearview mirror more closely than the road ahead of them.
Oh. Her mouth went dry as she gripped her seat. All she could think of was the way he had said “grenade launcher” with that dark look on his face just a short while ago. Her heart skipped a beat. “Are they following us?”
Long moments passed before he responded, slowing the car at last. “We’re fine. For a second I thought—”
“You gave me a heart attack for nothing?” She went for the door lock again. When he reached over and grabbed her hand, she shoved hard against him. Not that he took any notice. “Want to tell me where you’re taking me?”
“We need a new car and some weapons.” He pulled up to the post office and parked.
How did they get here? Clearly, he knew more back roads than she did. Maybe he wasn’t as new to the neighborhood as he’d claimed. Although she’d never seen him before he’d shown up three months ago just to annoy her to death.
“Come on. We’re going in.”
“In pajamas? Barefoot?” Her mind suddenly caught up with what he’d said. “Weapons?” Her voice was a touch weaker on that last word.
“It’s not even seven in the morning. Nobody is going to be in there. You’re fine.”
Obviously he wasn’t the kind of man who worried much about propriety. But he was right; the building was empty. The post office wasn’t open yet, but the room with the P.O. boxes was. He went straight to the stainless-steel sorting table that housed forms of all sizes and colors, reached under it, searched for a second and then came up with a small key. He opened one of the larger, business-size P.O. boxes on the opposite wall and retrieved a box that held a black gym bag.
Once they returned to the car, he tossed the bag in the back and indicated that she should get in. “You should be able to find something in there to wear. You can change here.”
Huh?
Getting naked with Cade Palmer nearby wasn’t on her it-might-happen-in-this-lifetime list. Although there had been that dream…. Okay, maybe more than one. But she was not going to think about them—not now, not ever. She opened the bag and saw a soft, extra-large T-shirt on top. She would be less conspicuous in that than in her slinky pajama top.
“Fine. Don’t look.” She turned her back to him.
He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. “I try not to make promises I can’t keep.”
She could tell from his voice that he was grinning.
Insufferable.
She grabbed the bottom of her top. Stalled. Looked back at him. He lifted his gaze to the rearview mirror.
“Don’t look!”
“You turned around. I thought you wanted something from me.” He turned his attention back to the road. She was right—he was grinning.
She yanked her silk top off. No big deal. He had probably seen a naked woman or two before, anyway. It would have been easier to leave the top on under the T-shirt, but it was the middle of a heat wave, the temperature nearing ninety already—not a day for layers.
She glanced down at her body. With his long T-shirt on top,
