Must Love Hellhounds

blindly and stupidly was not.
    And why hadn’t she thought? Because she’d been cozy.
    She jabbed in the pins that secured her hair, then stepped into her trousers and yanked them up. “Why didn’t you read my e-mail when I did, too?”
    “That would be an invasion of privacy, Winters.” His brows lowered, darkening his expression. “I have limits. For instance, when you’re in there”—he tilted his head toward the bathroom—“I’ll not look without permission. But if you come out here dressed as you are now, I’ll take whatever eyeful I can.”
    “But whose—” No, she didn’t need to ask.
    Sir Pup had begun chuffing. His other two heads sprouted from his shoulders and joined in.
    Blake weaved on the bed and pressed his hand to his forehead, swallowing hard. Obviously, looking through the three heads didn’t agree with him.
    “If I may be so bold, Mr. Blake—you just got what you deserved.” Maggie pulled on her shirt. “You said you couldn’t see through animals.”
    “I can’t. And don’t bloody call me Mr. Blake.” He stood abruptly and came toward her. “Are those why you were called ‘Bullet-Eating Brunhilda’?”
    “No.” She didn’t look down at the scars scattered over her stomach as she buttoned her shirt. “It’s because I’m blond, and I’m tall, and men don’t use much imagination when they are nicknaming women. Your uncle, of course, is the exception—‘Winters’ is preferable to ‘the Ice Queen’ or ‘the Frost Giant.’”
    “‘Winters’ has nothing to do with your hair, Maggie.” His gaze was steady on hers. “Will you turn around?”
    Nothing he’d just said was what she’d expected. “Why?”
    “Because there’s a mirror behind you. And because you’ve retreated behind that damnable butler’s tone, and so I’m not able to tell if you’re angry. I want to see your face, not mine.”
    That was just too bad. “We have a plane to catch, sir.” She shouldered her weapon harness and deliberately swept her gaze down his bare chest, his ridged stomach. “You have five minutes to get ready. I suggest you get started.”
    He stepped in closer. Maggie drew in a breath, waited for him to do more. To say something, to argue . . . to touch her.
    God, she was looking at his hands again.
    Her jacket hung on the chair behind her. She grabbed it, put distance between them. He stared at the spot where she’d been for a moment longer before turning his back to her and moving toward his own clothes. The bullet scar on his shoulder was pale against his tan.
    “For the record, Maggie,” he said, “it wasn’t my intention to upset you. I’m simply not in the habit of asking first.”
    No, he wouldn’t be. He couldn’t keep his ability a secret if he sought permission to use it.
    The tension that had been stiffening her muscles slowly eased away. “For the record, sir—I am very easy to upset when I find myself awake at four in the morning.”
    He was facing the other way, so she didn’t know if he smiled. She didn’t mind. He couldn’t see hers, either.
     
     
     
    “Now that you’ve forgiven me, I ought not to admit this,” Blake said as soon as they were both settled into the SUV. “But I’ve no idea why we are to catch a plane. I only read half of Savi’s e-mail.”
    Because he’d been distracted when she’d come out of the bathroom in her underwear, Maggie realized, and four fifteen in the morning suddenly felt a little brighter.
    “The Ramsdell corporate jet is waiting at the Richmond airport,” Maggie told him. “It’ll take us to Charleston.”
    “Savi located the RV, then?”
    “No. But it’ll get us to the right state faster than we can drive, and we don’t lose the time sleeping.”
    Blake’s smile was wry. “Sensible. And very kind of her not to point out that if I could drive, we wouldn’t have needed to stop.”
    Yes. Last night, she would’ve slept while Blake drove, and they’d have been in South Carolina by now.
    Maggie frowned, her fingers tapping against the steering wheel. “They stopped, too. James and the other one. And not to switch off—they could have done that in a parking lot or beside the road.”
    But at a campground, Maggie realized, they could pay for the site and leave the RV. It would be a while before anyone listed it as abandoned.
    And they’d drugged Katherine again rather than asking her to locate something. So that it’d be easier to carry her out of the RV, take her to another