THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

very interested in the high-priced thugs after Angel, no doubt, but they didn’t need to know that yet.
    Zane froze. What the hell was he doing, holding out on his two best friends – men he’d trust with his life – because of a woman he barely knew?
    Should he tell them? If he did, Vance would have to follow procedure and report everything to the proper authorities, which might end with Angel surrounded by law enforcement.
    His mind clicked through that scenario. She’d escaped someplace dangerous and stowed away on an airplane without a clue where she was going or if she could trust the pilot.
    That was desperate.
    Zane couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t add to her problems by sticking law enforcement on her when he had no evidence she’d committed a crime, and neither would he put Vance or Ben in the middle of this.
    Was he being a fool?
    Probably, but he couldn’t forget the way she’d looked at him as if he could protect her from the world. Then he’d touched her and forgotten there was a world beyond the two of them.
    She’d gotten to him.
    Did she belong in jail?
    Maybe or maybe not. But until he found out for sure, he couldn’t stand the thought of anyone hurting her any more than she’d already been abused.
    His gaze landed on that coffee cup in the plastic bag. First he had to find out the identity of the woman who had his insides tied in a knot.
    He sure as hell hoped Angel wasn’t running for the wrong reasons because if she was, Ben was sworn to act on what he found and Zane couldn’t ask him not to.
    And damn, he’d hate to see the doe-eyed girl go to jail.
     
    Chapter 6
     
    Food. Water. Now. Or Angel wouldn’t make another mile.
    Not after making a twelve-mile run from the private airport where Zane had landed to reach downtown Jacksonville by daylight.
    What had Zane done with Vic?
    She hoped he’d turned Vic loose and hadn’t called the police, but right now she needed to worry about getting her hands on some cash. Then water, and food, if her stomach could take it.
    As hiding places went, this one stank. Really.
    But this narrow cut between a high-rise building and a dumpster had been her best option at daybreak. Based on the smell of rotten food, the dumpster probably belonged to a restaurant in the brick building she leaned against. Tuesday morning workers would be showing up soon and she didn’t want to be standing here when someone came out to empty the trash.
    Mason had an office somewhere in this city. Could be here in downtown Jacksonville.
    Every black Range Rover that passed by sent her diving out of sight.
    As if that didn’t look suspicious? But the last black sport utility she’d seen half an hour ago had the Lorde Industries logo on the side.
    A wave of dizziness assailed her. She breathed through her mouth. If she passed out, she’d put herself in a vulnerable position that could bring in the police.
    Late August heat rose with the morning sun. She licked her dry lips and swallowed against a debilitating thirst. Her stomach rumbled in spite of the nauseating stench from the dumpster. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon.
    Sweat trickled from under her ball cap, stinging her eyes. She flipped it around backwards to peek beyond the corner of the building and check the sidewalk.
    A steady flow of cars tried to beat the red lights, the drivers trying to slide into work before nine. Dehydrated or not, Angel still wanted one of those coffees cruising by in the hands of pedestrians just a few feet away. Smelled heavenly. She lifted the damp tail of her T-shirt and used it to wipe perspiration burning her eyes.
    Keep procrastinating about stepping out in the open, and dehydration would get her before Mason did.
    She lifted her foot to take a step.
    A loud boom shocked her.
    Angel jerked backwards against the wall and scratched her shoulder in the process.
    Grinding gears echoed loudly in the canyon of tall structures. She glanced at the dilapidated pickup truck that rolled by. The boom had been a backfire.
    Calm down. She’d be hallucinating giant rabbits soon if she didn’t get food and water. She took a couple of deep breaths.
    Where was her white knight now?
    Home safe in Ft. Lauderdale, she hoped.
    Ebony hair, eyes the color of dark tea, and as imposing as a house, Zane Black might have championed her, but he was not some fairytale knight. He was someone far more deadly. There’d been a dangerous glint in his eyes when he’d had Mason’s man in a