THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)
forward on the counter with a slice of cold pizza in one hand. Her downcast eyes drifted back and forth across the front page of yesterday’s paper. An almost empty glass of milk rested near the edge of the paper.
“You can have anything you want,” Zane pointed out to her. “You don’t have to eat day-old pizza.”
“This is great. You have no idea how badly you miss pizza until you can’t get it for a year.” She’d mumbled her answer without looking up from the newspaper.
Where had she lived that she couldn’t get pizza? He’d file that away for now.
Zane checked his watch. They had to get moving. “You ready to go?”
She didn’t even hesitate as she cleaned up after herself, wiped down the counter and washed the glass. She hefted the linen bag to her shoulder. “Lead the way.”
After scooting her out to the truck, Zane made three switchbacks on his way to the airfield. He detected no one following them, but someone had spotted Angel while she was running down the beach. If her pursuers had figured out that she was with him, logically they should have come after her by now.
Nice if he could relax and take that as a good sign, but unfortunately, logic and criminals didn’t always go hand in hand, which meant he’d have to be on guard for anything at this point.
Where would her pursuers show up next?
Chapter 20
Zane was sorry about the kiss.
Sorry about that kiss?
Angel stewed in the co-pilot seat as Zane reached cruising altitude. Granted, they hadn’t picked the best time to do a sexy cha-cha, standing in that abandoned station, but he clearly regretted it. What had happened?
She’d been sure he was enjoying himself as much as she had. Well, maybe not as much as she had – not when he’d slipped his fingers inside her bra top. And started to do the same with her shorts.
Her nipples perked up at the reminder. The pair of traitors hardened just thinking about his touch. If he’d kept his hands on her another couple of minutes in that old gas station, the heat coming off her skin would have torched her clothes.
But something had changed by the time they’d returned to his apartment. For him anyway. Maybe he’d come to his senses and realized he could do so much better.
With his looks, he probably had a string of beautiful, sophisticated women vying for his attention. Bet he never tossed out a penalty flag after kissing one of them .
She certainly wasn’t beautiful or sophisticated.
But that didn’t stop her from thinking of how much she’d like to have a man like Zane.
Impossible dream.
Okay, so who cared? If he wanted to act like nothing had happened between them, so would she.
Zane’s voice buzzed in her headphones. “While we have a little time, how about telling me something about yourself?”
“Like what?”
“What type of work do you do?”
She’d been pedaling a bike as a courier when she’d been arrested for unknowingly delivering drugs for her father. After jail she’d taken a job as a maid in a filthy motel where rooms were rented by the hour, she’d shoveled refuse at the dump, and waited tables in a strip club because a respectable restaurant didn’t want an ex-con.
Getting hired by one of the largest import-export companies in the country should have been a red flag for her, but no. She’d been too eager to make good.
Two months into her employment, she’d earned a raise and moved up to the position of inventory clerk. And that job had come with opportunities for advancement – from small time jailbird to fulltime felon.
Give him the short version. “You could say I’m between jobs right now.”
“What have you done?”
She couldn’t see behind those aviator glasses he wore, but she’d bet he rolled his eyes at her evasive answer. “I was a bike courier once. How’d you find me this morning?”
“I normally jog in the mornings. When I heard you leave, I slipped on my shoes to run with you, but you were way ahead of me by the time you reached the beach. Next thing I knew, I saw a bullet strike the sand and you took off like a rocket.”
Okay, bringing up this morning was a bad idea .
Zane turned his dark sunglasses on her. “You’re pretty fast, even to be running on adrenaline. Did you run track in school?”
“Yes.” She pushed that out through clenched teeth. She could deal with the subtle interrogation, but reminding her of what she’d lost punctured an emotional artery.
No one she’d graduated
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