THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

headlock. Zane handled himself like he’d been in a tight spot with an enemy before.
    Guilt still punched her over abandoning him.
    For a minute, just a brief flash in time, he’d sent her heart tripping. Had made her feel warm and protected, cared about. She rolled her eyes. Timing was everything and hers had pretty much stunk since the day she fell from the womb.
    But her rogue pilot had all the makings of Mr. Perfect. Too bad she’d never have the chance to enjoy him beyond a fantasy. And even if she had that chance, no decent and honest man would want a woman with her past.
    She swallowed and inhaled a fortifying breath, determined to get moving.
    With a quick glance each way to check pedestrian traffic, Angel veered from the alley and merged into a mixed group of business people and teens moving at a steady pace. She slowed her steps until she ended up near several young people wearing stylish grunge. Hanging with one wave of humans after another, she kept walking when she wanted to lie down and sleep.
    Toying unconsciously with the ruby heirloom ring on her right hand, she lifted her finger and gave the ring a hard look. Her dying mother had passed the cherished possession to Angel at twelve. She had no siblings to squabble over the gift.
    And she had nothing left as a memory of her mother, except this ring. Her mother hadn’t been perfect, but who was?
    At least she had loved Angel. Now no one did.
    Her ring probably had little value beyond the sentimental, but the idea of giving up her only connection to her mother twisted a knife in Angel’s stomach. How much would she have to sacrifice just to live a normal life? Her mother had been a survivor and would expect Angel to do whatever it took, even if that meant trading this ring for food.
    But she also needed to change clothes and find transportation.
    Her throat tightened at forfeiting the ring. She clenched her eyes shut to stem any ridiculous tears.
    Life had taught her not to covet anything more than survival. And she’d learned her lessons well.
    She had to find a way to that marina in Ft. Lauderdale where the coins were headed. Mason’s gold compass would have brought more than this ring at a pawnshop.
    If she hadn’t lost the shiny little ball.
    Even if she still had the coins and was willing to sell them, she couldn’t take that risk. Any dealer would know they were stolen. Losing even one coin would jeopardize her chance at staying out of prison.
    The ring was her only hope and not much of one.
    If someone would give her money for it.
    Suck it up and deal with the situation.
    She’d heard that mantra enough to last a lifetime.
    The foot traffic thinned outside the central business district. She went on alert as the area went downhill. Small independent stores with expanded metal doors and steel bars over the windows filled the lower levels of shabby buildings.
    She held her breath as she passed a longhaired man in baggy clothes who hadn’t seen a bar of soap in a while. On the opposite side of the street, a woman pushing a banged-up grocery cart full of junk.
    Would that be me some day?
    A faded banner in the lower corner of a discount shoe store caught Angel’s attention, forcing her feet to stop.
    She recognized the event’s insignia.
    In two months, the Tamarind International Triathlon would be held in Colorado. Elite competitors would travel from all corners of the world.
    Last year, the event had been in Greece.
    She’d trained for the last sixteen months straight for that race – to prove to the world and herself that she was still a competitive athlete, not a criminal. Every waking minute not spent working to feed herself, she’d pushed her body to the limit. Her running times in particular had improved, making her a contender. Or she would have been one, if she hadn’t been so set on proving she was a conscientious employee.
    When she’d informed Mason about finding the stolen painting, he’d just chuckled and said, “Welcome to the family , Angel. I chose well in hiring you. Just the person I wanted on my personal acquisition team. You’ll need some training, but I’ll handle that myself.”
    Refusing to join his band of merry thieves hadn’t gone over well, to say the least.
    “Be a better person” had been her motto after her release from prison.
    She’d always believed she could overcome the problems dealt her, but right now, being a better person had her running for her life and trying to avoid being locked