THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

found her curled up on his patio had been better than the day she’d walked out of prison and her body trembled at the deep breath of freedom she’d inhaled. Zane was unlike any other man she’d ever met. He went from roaring annoyance to gentle and kind at warp speed.
    A complete gentleman.
    Yeah, until he stripped you with his eyes in the kitchen.
    That didn’t actually make him any less of a gentleman in her eyes, just a man enjoying what he saw.
    She’d forgotten what it was like to crave a man’s touch. But she craved Zane’s.
    Angel pinched the bridge of her nose.
    Get out of here. She had to, before she did something stupid like give Mason a reason to kill the most decent man she’d ever known.
    She tiptoed to the front door, running shoes in hand.
    Zane slept with a white undershirt covering his broad chest, a mat of black hair curled at the scoop neck. One rope-muscled thigh poked out from under the thin sheet covering his lower half.
    The man was pure sex wrapped up in a steel casing.
    She smiled sadly then mouthed the words, “You’re sweet. Bye,” and blew a kiss.
    ~*~
    Zane flicked one eyelid open just wide enough to catch Angel’s air kiss as the door closed. Hot damn, he’d been right to deactivate his alarm system last night on the gamble that she’d run this morning. Now he had a shot at gathering some intel. Anything that would give him a clue to who she was and who or what she was running from.
    He grabbed the shoes he’d stashed under the end table. The shirt and shorts he’d worn to bed for her benefit saved the time he’d spend having to dress. That would keep her from gaining much of a head start. He laced his running shoes and ran out the door.
    Intentionally letting her go was a calculated risk that would blow up in his face if he lost track of her.
    He saw her turn south down the main highway just as he hit the sidewalk, but she was still close enough that he could keep her in sight. Brilliant rays of sun pierced the ruby horizon above the ocean on his left, highlighting her perfectly in the distance.
    Angel’s stride lengthened to a loping jog.
    Where could she be headed?
    In spite of the early morning cool air, sweat trickled down his back from the rising humidity. He maintained a steady pace over the first mile. As he kept a safe space between them, his mind worked through the possibilities.
    Could she be meeting someone?
    He kept track of her with his peripheral vision. A person could feel someone watching them. Based on what he’d seen, Angel should be looking for thugs in huge SUVs and shouldn’t notice just another runner among several others taking advantage of the early morning low temps.
    Her repeated, quick head checks answered his main question.
    She wasn’t meeting anyone, but avoiding someone.
    She cut across the street then took a sharp corner. Twice she made a complete loop to end up somewhere she’d already passed. He didn’t understand at first, but finally grasped that she was backtracking to circle behind anyone who might be following.
    It was a good tactic, and she was smart. But he’d been following her for half an hour and she hadn’t realized he was on her tail. He’d had training. He’d bet his truck that she’d had none and was running on pure street-hardened instinct. He admired her evasive maneuvers.
    As he neared a heavy business district, the street traffic picked up on the divided four-lane highway alongside where they ran.
    How long could she hold this pace?
    The screech of tires against asphalt disrupted the morning peace.
    One look at the black sport utility and Angel took off as if she’d been shot from a cannon.
     
    Chapter 18
     
    At the skidding sound of a vehicle braking hard, Angel stumbled and spun around.
    A black Land Rover. No identifying logo on the side, but she didn’t need a gold triangle to confirm she was in trouble.
    She spun away. Pedestrians impeded her progress as she cut in and out of small groups ambling along the sidewalks. She dashed through the middle of an intersection, running against the traffic then shifted easterly, towards the beach.
    Rounding a corner, she slid to a stop, stymied.
    Either the buildings were too tight, with one fence connected to the next, or the land so sparse it offered nowhere to hide. She stood out bright as a caution flag in a car race.
    Keep moving or die.
    She spotted an opening to the beach between two towering condominiums further down and plowed through the soft dunes