THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

survival training?
    Indecision got you killed. Instincts took over.
    She ran in short bursts, casting hasty looks over her shoulder, and paused behind a stack of tires at the rear of an abandoned gas station. Her heart raced, every breath coming in painful bursts.
    She fought to keep the panic at bay, but couldn’t ignore the truth.
    Mason would eventually kill her.
    She didn’t want it to be today.
    Her options were disintegrating into thin air. She had no clue where she was or how to find transportation out of this city. Her hands shook as she swiped perspiration away from her eyes. The hat had flown off, somewhere. She could feel her hair hanging loose on one side.
    It didn’t matter.
    The gunman had recognized her, hat or no hat.
    Hands shaking, she picked her way around the garbage-strewn rear of the gas station and peered down a wall shrouded in thick green ivy vines. Next door, clumps of thorny sandspur plants covered the vacant lot, offering no protection.
    The derelict station offered the only possible hideout she could find. There were several doorway openings not completely overtaken by vines on the whitewashed concrete block structure. With trembling fingers, she felt her way along the wall as she eased toward the street, sticking tight as a shadow to the building.
    Yellow shoes and a bright yellow shirt – some shadow.
    As she passed the first two openings, dilapidated exterior bathrooms, she gave each an obligatory glance then held her breath against the stench and moved on.
    She considered ducking into the next open doorway to what at one time must have been the waiting area of the service station. Tall half broken glass windows stretched from the other side of the doorway to wrap around the front.
    Damn. She couldn’t hide there. Had to keep moving.
    She headed toward the street. Just as she cleared the doorway of the station, a massive hand covered her mouth and a powerful arm encircled her chest, jerking her inside.
    He had her.
     
    Chapter 19
     
    “Shhh. It’s me, Zane.” 
    Angel slumped, her back against his chest and her relief so vivid it was a living thing. When he moved the hand that covered her mouth, she muttered, “I don’t deserve your help, but I’m glad to have it.”
    With her no longer resisting, he switched his hold from one of capture and restraint to support and comfort. He cupped the side of her face, lowering a finger to stroke along her neck.
    Her heart hammered under his arm. Her breathing rushed out in gasps.
    She’d had the hell scared out of her.
    He’d had the hell scared out of him, too.
    Following her had been challenge enough. His heart had lurched up into his throat when the bullet barely missed her. It had taken everything he could muster to try to catch her when she’d torn away at one hell of a quick pace.
    Why hadn’t the shooter gone for her body? The shot hit too far in front of her to have been aimed for the bulk of the target.
    Had the shooter meant to kill or only wound?
    Or run her into an ambush?
    Who in the hell was after her? The bullet could have just as easily hit her head as the ground next to her shoe.
    Her body quaked against his chest. Trying to calm her, he rubbed her arm, still glistening with moisture from her exertion. He couldn’t resist brushing his lips over her hair, so damned glad he’d found her and caught her before she ran back out into danger.
    Zane expelled a breath of pent up anxiety.
    An eternity had passed after seeing her head toward the gas station. He’d stood in the doorway worried he’d guessed wrong and she was gone, permanently. His usual calm control had almost deserted him. He’d been seconds from bolting out of the building to search for her when she walked up.
    Zane folded her closer, enjoying the feel of her body next to his. She was safe and alive, for the moment.
    Just as soon as he got her somewhere safe, she’d get an earful from him. Expecting patience at this point was too much. She’d tell him who was chasing her and why. No more cat and mouse games.
    The thought of anyone harming Angel brought out a deadly side of him unlike anything since his time in the second Gulf War. He’d left his share of casualties over the years, but he’d never intentionally hurt anyone who hadn’t deserved it. The next person to put a mark on Angel would land on top of his physical retribution list.
    First he had to get her out of here – alive. “Are you okay, Angel?”
    She drew a deep breath and pushed