She released the dashboard and concentrated on keeping her hands open and relaxed on her thighs. As the panic attack gradually faded, awareness of her rescuer crept in. She thought about Joe’s unruffled demeanor throughout their ordeal and the way he had disposed of Latschenko. No hesitation, no wasted moves, no excess force. Just ruthless efficiency. As if handling armed thugs was nothing new to him...
With the truck speeding down the road and her mind rehashing everything that had transpired, she realized one undeniable fact.
She had trespassed in the wrong damn place.
* * *
As Jared drove the truck, every muscle in his body was tense with frustration. Usually, he found rescuing a victim from a dangerous criminal deeply satisfying and one of the reasons he stayed committed to his job despite the long hours, reams of paperwork and internal politics. Today, however, that satisfaction was overshadowed by anger and self-recrimination. His altercation with Latschenko had ruined his chance to search the house and possibly uncover proof Sidorov had been involved in his younger brother’s disappearance. But what else could he have done? The blonde trespasser had been in imminent danger. Her survival had to take precedence over his original plan, which was a long shot born of desperation. That logic was inescapable to any reasonable person. So why did a niggling voice in his head question his motives? Why did it accuse him of placing the well-being of a stranger over that of his own flesh and blood?
No, that was ridiculous. Despite the fact that he and Steve had a complicated relationship, colored with anger and resentment and hurt, none of that had influenced his decision to run interference for the woman. He had made the right call, according to his training and conscience. The noise in his head was caused by worry and uncertainty.
Next to him, his passenger was hyperventilating, her rapid breathing audible in the confines of the truck. She was obviously terrified, and her reaction didn’t surprise him. Latschenko was a tough, scary dude, and Jared didn’t regret knocking him out.
When the woman had first crawled out of the garden, he’d known her presence was a complication he didn’t need, but he’d been confident he could control the situation. Her claim that Sidorov had drawn a gun on his visitor had substantiated his suspicions the supposedly retired mafia boss hadn’t completely walked away from his criminal past. Jared had warned her to make a speedy exit. Everything would have been fine if she’d moved a little faster or if Latschenko had been content to hang out a little longer at the tennis courts. The difference of a few seconds had proved disastrous, a point driven home when Jared had spotted the two facing each other, the guard’s gun aimed at the blonde’s slender stomach. He could have walked away from the situation, but he’d felt compelled to intervene. What if he hadn’t? Would the woman have managed to escape on her own? Or would she have ended up like Steve—missing, with family members trying desperately to figure out what had become of her?
There was no point dwelling on what-if scenarios; he had to decide his next move based on what had actually gone down. He would take her to her car so she could contact the police, even though the last thing he wanted was lawmen swarming all over Sidorov’s place. If the former Russian mobster felt he was under scrutiny by the authorities, he wouldn’t go about his usual routine or take part in the candid, potentially incriminating conversations Jared had hoped to record on the bug in his office.
When his passenger’s breathing had evened out and she was no longer gripping the dashboard, he spoke to her. “Where’s your car?”
She expelled a long breath. “A couple of blocks south of Sidorov’s property. You’ll need to circle back.”
He glanced over at her. Strands of pale blond hair, shaken loose from her ponytail, hung straight and delicate as corn silk around her face. A deep blue, sleeveless top hugged the generous curves of her breasts, and faded jeans emphasized her narrow waist and extremely long legs. She possessed a spectacular body that had felt awfully good pressed against his side.
He returned his gaze to the road, checked traffic and made a U-turn. “What type of vehicle am I looking for?”
“A white RAV4.” She shifted around in her seat, probably still feeling the lingering edginess of adrenaline. “Thanks for helping me. If you hadn’t stepped in... Well, I’m not even going to attempt to finish that sentence. Do you always think really fast on your feet? That lunch-toting, garden-loving girlfriend story was darn creative, and you told it so convincingly it seemed like the guard was going to let me leave.”
He slowed the pickup to allow a van to merge. “I figured it was worth a try, but unfortunately, Latschenko didn’t quite buy it.” He added, “What’s your name?”
“Brooke Rogers.”
“You said your brother-in-law was being held at gunpoint. What’s he mixed up in?”
“Nothing.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes...of course.” Her slight hesitation indicated a little less conviction than her first denial.
“Why were you looking in Sidorov’s window?”
She muttered something under her breath that sounded like “neurotic sister.”
He shot a sideways glance at her. “I didn’t catch that.”
“It has nothing to do with you.” Pink infused her cheeks, a sure sign she was embarrassed, but he’d been trained to get all the facts, and he intended to keep after her until she came clean.
“I ran interference for you and nearly got shot. The least you can do is answer my question.”
A dark green Ford Explorer switched into their lane without warning, forcing him to brake hard to keep from rear-ending it.
“My reason for being there is personal,” Brooke said. “What were you doing there? Why were you pretending to be a gardener?”
He shot her an offended look. “What do you mean, pretending?” Bracing the bottom of the truck’s steering wheel with his knee, he held up his hands to prove his point. “There’s nothing phony about these calluses. I cut grass, trim hedges—”
“—and warn off trespassers, which I doubt is part of your job description,” she finished for him. “You walked up to a guy with a gun like it was no big deal, you tried to use his fear of his boss to manipulate him, and when that didn’t work, you got the drop on him.” She paused. “You’re an undercover cop.”
He stiffened. “You’ve got some imagination.”
“You insisted I leave because you didn’t want me to come into contact with Latschenko, and also because I was distracting you from your assignment.”
Damn right, she’d been distracting. Then again, any man with a pulse would’ve had a tough time ignoring a woman whose face and body were more striking than any Hollywood starlet’s.
“How long have you been watching Sidorov?” she asked.
He needed to shut down her curiosity, without letting her know she was on the right track. “Hey, I’m not watching anybody, Blondie. I get paid to do lawn maintenance, and that’s what I do.”
“Yeah, right. I don’t want to seem ungrateful for your handling of Latschenko, but my brother-in-law is in danger, and I need to know what’s going on.”
He
