THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

from wiping her fingerprints to showing up in his hangar. He should turn her over to the police to let them determine if she needed protection or incarceration.
    But her fear was palpable.
    Every protective instinct had roared to the surface the minute he’d found her again. He’d be damned if he’d let her slip away this time.
    Life had taught him that not everyone who avoided the law was a criminal. Judging this situation without all the facts could get someone seriously injured, or killed.
    Bringing in the authorities might shove her into more danger. He couldn’t do that. Not until he had answers. He’d never forgive himself if something happened to her because of nothing more than suspicious activity.
    With enough money and connections, whoever chased her could get to her anywhere. He’d heard some of Ben’s stories. Protective custody sometimes amounted to caging the prey for a fenced hunt by the bad guys.
    Zane walked around and climbed in the driver’s side, cranking the engine. One look at Angel’s long legs now covered in jeans reminded him of the old bruises on her thighs.
    He’d like to pay a personal visit to the person who had inflicted those wounds.
    With the kind of men she had on her tail, how had Angel made it all the way here alive? And why did she fight him so hard when she knew he was trying to help her?
    Sure, he was a stranger, but if she had anyone else to turn to, she’d have gone to that person.
    Frustration welled inside him.
    His gut just did not want to believe that she was a criminal.
    What about wiping her fingerprints off every surface she touched? Okay, so his gut failed the Sherlock test.
    Pulling out on the highway, he mulled over yet another suspicious action – finding her in his storage room.
    Had she been looking for the gold compass?
    Possibly.   
    In the few minutes he’d been driving, his misgivings climbed until he began questioning the logic of bringing her into his home. He never brought business home, and purposely kept his two lives separate for his sister’s benefit.
    This could be a stupendous mistake.
    But then he caught a small movement in his peripheral vision and glanced at her.
    Angel rode quietly, staring straight ahead. Her squared shoulders boasted of confidence, but the death grip she had on that linen bag belied her stiff carriage.
    He made yet another hundred-and-eighty-degree spin from guarded to protective.
    She chewed on her lower lip. One hand relaxed, slipped from the bag in her lap. The ring he’d noticed on the flight was now missing from her finger.
    Had she traded the ring for clothes or a few bucks?
    Her fingers trembled against the material. Fear? Exhaustion? Hunger? Or all three?
    Dammit. He had one thing straight in his mind. No one was getting their hands on her until he had his answers.
    No one.
    He had more than a few questions, but the best way to draw information from a reluctant individual was with slow, calculated conversation.
    Right now, this angel was too spent and jumpy.
    Guess he should be glad that Suarez had stopped by. Oh, his libido hadn’t been a bit happy about the interruption, but the dressed up, pain-in-the-butt, Latin pretty boy’s visit had been opportune. Given Zane a way to gain Angel’s cooperation.
    Having her close tonight would work in his favor. Now that he had her staying with him, it would be easy to get her print by the end of tonight. He had the perfect plan. Once he got her prints tonight, he’d drop them at Ben’s lab first thing in the morning.
    Then he’d know if he had to call in the authorities.
    His chest squeezed at the idea of making that call.
    He’d broken rules to save a life, but never to protect a criminal.
     
    Chapter 13
     
    Parking in front of the sandstone apartment building he’d lived in for a year, Zane mentally patted himself on the back for picking up the place earlier and restocking the refrigerator. He hadn’t cleaned with a guest in mind, just made it habitable after being gone for most of two weeks.
    Angel didn’t let him reach her side of the truck before she jumped out, looking dead on her feet. She’d be able to crash out for a hard night’s rest tonight if he had to stand guard over her the whole time.
    He unlocked his navy-blue front door, stepping aside to allow Angel to enter first. Chilly air smelling of lemon furniture polish greeted them.
    Hazy sunlight filtered through the patio doors into the expansive living room he didn’t spend enough time