Shiver

Tyler were the only ones who’d gotten any appreciable sleep on the plane.
    “Tyler needs breakfast,” Sam said, first to him and then, leaning forward and repeating it more loudly, to the other occupants of the vehicle at large, in a tone that told Danny that she wasn’t in the sunniest of humors. “We need to stop soon.”
    “We’re not stopping until we get where we’re going,” Sanders replied. “Another few hours.”
    “I got a Snickers in my pocket the kid can have,” Groves volunteered, looking around at them.
    “Thank you, but it’s probably better if he doesn’t eat candy for breakfast. Or in the car. It might make him sick.”
    “Ri-i-ight. Don’t want that,” Groves replied, and wasn’t alone in shooting Tyler a wary look.
    “It’s okay, Mom,” Tyler intervened. “I’m not hungry.”
    “What’s in the cooler?” Danny asked, hoping the answer was food, knowing that getting Sanders to stop before he felt safe in doing so was the closest thing to a lost cause there was. If the kid needed breakfast, the cooler was his best hope.
    Sam’s eyes narrowed at him. “G-U-N-S,” she spelled, clearly not wanting Tyler to know the answer. “I already checked.”
    “Guns,” Tyler repeated happily, perking up a little. “Can I see them?”
    “No,” Sam said, looking so cross that Danny had to smile.
    The sharp look she sent him in response wiped the smile from Danny’s face.
    “Good job teaching him to spell,” Danny offered hastily. Sam didn’t look appeased.
    “So where are we going?” Sam’s arms folded over her chest as she settled back against the seat. “Mr. Sanders, I’m talking to you.”
    The vibes she was giving off were pure cranky. A couple of tendrils of sooty hair curled around her face, and Danny guessed that they were coming loose again because her ponytail, which she’d scraped back from her face and resecured once more before they’d left the plane, was already giving up the ghost. The ponytail, plus the fact that she was wearing no makeup—she’d washed her face in the plane’s restroom; he knew because she had emerged while still drying it with a paper towel—should have detracted from her prettiness. It didn’t. What it did was make her look like she was about fifteen years old. Unless, of course, he checked out her body, which he was happy to discover was absolutely 100 percent adult. Since he was taller and she was wearing a clingy, low-cut tank top and was sitting right beside him, the round firmness of her breasts, along with the shadowy cleavage between them, was difficult to miss every time he glanced her way, especially since theLortab was interfering with his internal control panel to what he suspected was a significant degree. Getting his mind off of the creamy curves that were just a sideways slide of his eyeballs away required discipline, which apparently he didn’t have a whole lot of at the moment. But Danny summoned enough willpower to look straight ahead, out through the windshield at the vehicles rushing by on either side, then kept his mind out of the tank top by focusing on Sam’s chutzpah in continuing to harangue Sanders, which was really quite considerable when he thought about the fact that the other man was a fortyish federal agent of the domineering type and Sam was—well, unintimidating was probably the best way to put it. Danny could have told her that asking the other man where they were going was a waste of time, but he was busy working on enjoying the effects of the Lortab without doing anything too stupid, like getting caught looking down her shirt.
    “Somewhere,” Sanders answered repressively.
    “This is crap.” Sam’s eyes snapped. They had dark shadows beneath them, from lack of sleep Danny was sure, but, seen by daylight, they looked even bluer than he had thought they were the previous night. Lapis lazuli, maybe, or sapphire. Her lashes were long and thick and unmistakably girly, and as inky black as her hair. Her eyebrows, black, too, and delicately arched, almost met above her nose as she scowled at Sanders. Her mouth, for all her irritation, which was causing it to tighten, was full and naturally pink and temptingly soft looking. Just like the upper slopes of her breasts, barely visible above the curve of her top, looked temptingly sof—
    Hold it. No. Not going there.
    “What, exactly, is crap?” Sanders countered.
    “This whole freaking mess. From beginning to end.” Her eyes lifted, and collided