The Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance

could cut through the mountains and lose the Rover. She searched for an appropriate path.
    When she spotted a tight trail, she turned so Mitch could hear her. “I’m going off-road. Match my movements.”
    “Jesus, lady, you don’t even have a headlight.”
    “Would you rather stay?”
    “No.”
    Slowing to half-speed because of her passenger, she struggled to find a path that wouldn’t unseat him. Curses, yells and a few more gunshots sounded. She concentrated on riding, pouring every ounce of energy into it.
    “We lost them,” Mitch said.
    With her arms shaking from fatigue, she stopped. Mitch dismounted and dropped to the ground.
    “That was close,” he said. “You saved my life. Where the hell did you come from?”
    She removed her helmet. Her long ponytail snagged in the strap. Sweat stung her eyes and soaked her shirt under the chest protector. “I was riding and saw you needed help.”
    “In the middle of the night without a headlight?” His tone implied disbelief. “It’s pitch-black out here.”
    “I told you I have good night vision. Besides, I grew up around here. I know these hills like a bat knows its cave.”
    “What’s your name - Bat Woman?”
    “No. Wonder Woman. My invisible plane is in for repairs so I had to use my super bike.”
    His shoulders sagged. “Sorry. It’s been a hell of a day. I’m Mitch Wolfe - a federal agent, and I’m going to need more of your help.”
    “Sophia Daniels. I’ll do what I can.”
    “First, I need to get these cuffs off.”
    “My tool kit—”
    “I have a key in the—” he cringed “—waistband of my underwear.”
    She couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “Are they special spy underwear?”
    “Yep. They’re bulletproof, too. A man can’t be too cautious when it comes to personal safety.” He laughed with a deep, rich rumble that rolled right through her. “It’s a master handcuff key. It’s along my left side.” He regained his feet.
    His grey T-shirt was ripped and stained with blood. Too much blood. She gasped. “You’ve been shot.”
    “I felt a nick.”
    She pulled his shirt up. A deep gash oozed near his ribs on the left, cutting across the ripple of muscles along his abdomen. “It’s more of a slice. You’re going to need sutures.”
    “Sutures? Don’t tell me my nocturnal rescuer is also a doctor because that would be another hell of a coincidence.”
    “My father was a paramedic. I have supplies—”
    “Later. Key first.”
    Sophia tried pulling the waistband up past his jeans.
    “You need to unbutton the pants,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone.
    She hesitated before fumbling at the button. Wonderful, Sophia, she chided. You’re coordinated enough to jump a dirt bike over Ranger’s Gap, but you can’t undo one button. An eternity later, she ripped the key from his waistband and unlocked the cuffs.
    He groaned with relief, rubbing his raw wrists. Sophia realized she stood rather close to him, and he was a stranger. He was about six inches taller than her own five foot eight, and had arms like a professional quarterback. He looked about thirty, a few years older than her. Mitch claimed to be a federal agent, but she didn’t have any proof.
    She remembered his injury and reached for the first-aid kit in her backpack but stopped. Her pack! She had left it by the airstrip. A quick mental scan of the contents made her relax. No personal information, but she didn’t have the kit, food or water.
    He tapped his pockets. “Shit. They took my wallet, phone and gun. Do you have a cell?” Mitch rebuttoned his jeans.
    “No signals out here.”
    “Where then? I need to make a call. The sooner the better.”
    She sighed. No other choice. Her house was the closest. “I have a landline.”
    “Within walking distance?” A hopeful note crept into his voice.
    “No. About twenty miles off-road.”
    “And on the road?”
    “Fifty.”
    “Damn. I’m going to have to trust your night vision again, aren’t I?”
    “Yep.” Buckling up the chest protector, she donned her helmet.
    A queasy expression creased his sharp nose and he rubbed his hand along his five o’clock shadow. Long black eyelashes matched his almost military-style short black hair. His uninjured blue eye stared at her in concern.
    “Relax, Mitch. I’ll get us there in one piece. After we jump the chasm of death, we’re home free.”
    “Funny,” he deadpanned. “I don’t suppose you have another helmet?”
    “Nope. But if we do crash, I’ll