THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

her later that Mason’s men never traveled alone. Had they ganged up on Zane and hurt him? “Did you have a problem with that guy?”
    “Problem?”  Heavy sarcasm laced his voice. “Nooo, not unless you consider having his sidekick shove a gun in my face a problem.” 
    “Oh, God. What happened?”
    Zane shrugged. “I told them I didn’t know who you were and thought you’d had a falling-out with your boyfriend. Once you were gone, they lost interest and let me go.”
    Her luck had never been on the upswing, but right now it spiraled from bad to worse. She’d spent a large portion of her funds on clothes and bus fare. In the past twenty-eight hours, she’d had one meal and a few hours of sleep. Now she couldn’t find the blasted package hiding the coins.
    If the sole person who knew where the package of boat curtains had gone handed her over to the police, she was sunk.
    This would be a great time to turn on her feminine wiles, if she had any.
    “I didn’t mean to leave you stuck,” she started.
    “Having a hard time buying that since you did leave me stuck.”
    Wrong tactic. Just give him the truth and hope he’ll understand. “What I mean is I didn’t mean to involve you in my problems. I had no idea where I was going when we left Raleigh. I didn’t know that would happen or I would have told you to let me out as soon as you landed.” 
    He didn’t say a word.
    She was making no headway with flyboy. “You may not believe me, but I do appreciate you getting me out of Raleigh. I thought you had that guy handled. If I’d known someone else was around, I’d have stayed to help you even if it meant getting caught. That’s the truth.”  
    She took a breath and turned to see if she’d made a dent in that stern expression.
    His face softened. The muscle in his jaw no longer twitched. He wouldn’t harm her, but he still might call the authorities. Between smoothing things over with this guy and figuring out what had happened to the package – without specifically asking where it was – she had her work cut out.
    How had a simple plan to hide the coins gotten so screwed up?
    Wrenching against his steel grasp was a waste of energy. She dug around for a sweet tone, something she hadn’t used in a long time, and implored, “Would you let go, please? You’re hurting my wrists.”
    His fingers loosened immediately.
    She pulled one hand free and swung around to face him.
    He held onto her other wrist, giving her no chance to escape. If he knew how desperate she was to find those coins, he’d realize she had no plans to take off yet. He massaged her wrist with his thumb then looked down and scowled.
    What did that mean with this man?
    Were they okay or did he still want to strangle her?
    He muttered, “I didn’t realize how tight I held you. That’s going to make a damn bruise.”  He didn’t stop working the sting out of her skin until both wrists had been given equal attention.
    No man had ever confused her so much or so often.
    Zane Black went from annoyed to caring within a heartbeat. Like the heartbeats rapidly thumping in her chest from his soothing touch. He’d touched her more in two days than any male had in the past seven years. With the exception of her one failed relationship as a teen, contact with a man had not been by her choice. Her limited experience with men amounted to being handcuffed by the police and physically abused by Mason.
    No man had been gentle with her until now, or protective as Zane had been during the flight, and none had ever elicited the physical response that standing close to Zane caused.
    She’d never been turned on by a man merely rubbing her wrists.
    Chocolate cake had raised her pulse more than male interest in the past.
    Cake lost hands down right now.
    “Angel, why don’t you tell me what’s going on before someone gets hurt, mainly you?” 
    Her heart did a small trip at his genuine concern. His intense stare roamed over her face as if searching for a way to slip past her defenses.
    When he didn’t release her wrist, she took a step back, needing space to think, and bumped up against the wall. What could she say that he’d believe? Even if he accepted her story as true, he’d want to call in the police. That would hammer the final nail in her coffin. Once the authorities pulled up her record, they’d put her away forever. Against a prominent businessman like Mason, her word had less value than dirt without undeniable evidence.
    She had