THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

couldn’t engage the autopilot yet. Keeping an eye on her in his rearview mirror, he raised his voice so she’d hear him. “Be careful. He might bite.” 
    “He won’t hurt me. Please don’t yell. You’re frightening him even more.” 
    She sat down on the floor of the plane, turned so that she had the dog cage on her left and Zane on her right. When she opened the wire door, Chut made a couple of tentative steps through the opening. In the next heartbeat, he straddled her lap.
    She beamed a triumphant smile up at the mirror and carried the dog back to her co-pilot seat. Once she was settled with her headphones back in place, she sat back, running her fingers across the mutt’s white-as-fresh-snow coat. “He smells nice. Powdery.”
    Zane said, “You’re going to be sorry if he gets excited and makes a mess.”
    “No, I’m not. Everyone needs to be held sometimes.”  She smiled at the dog. “Isn’t that right, Sir Chut?”  She turned to Zane. “I think Chut’s thirsty. Got any water?”
    Zane started to tell her he was sure the dog had been well hydrated before being handed off, but stopped himself in time. He’d never seen Angel this invested. Or this distracted. He’d be stupid to shut it down. “Sure, just hang on a minute until I get the autopilot set.” 
    He made sure the instruments were doing their jobs, then found a plastic cup, used his pocketknife to cut the height down to half, filled the temporary dog bowl with water from a bottle he had in his bag, and held it out to her on the palm of his hand.
    “Thanks. Here, Chut, have a drink.” 
    Chut lapped up water, dripping it all over his coat and Angel’s lap.
    When the dog finally lost interest in the water, Zane lifted the cup from her fingers and said, “I’ve got a cup holder on this side. I’ll put it over here in case he wants more later.” 
    Angel let him take the cup and laughed when Chut licked her chin.
    Zane smiled, too. Finally, he had Angel’s fingerprint.
     
    Chapter 21
     
    Mason ceased his useless pacing across his New York office, and stared out at the fifteenth-floor view of Manhattan.
    He wouldn’t be here, but he had to appear as though he were doing business as usual. CK wasn’t producing results fast enough. Granted, Mason had given the bounty hunter stringent guidelines on capturing Angelina, because of that prick Czarion, but he’d thought CK would have cornered her by now, even with the need to be discreet.
    Had she found a hole to tuck into and hide?
    Perhaps Mason should give her reason to get mobile again.
    He studied the traffic below, tossing around idea after idea until it dawned on him that he had the perfect solution sitting on ice. Literally.
    Snatching his phone, he made a call to his favorite reporter, the one who owed him a favor.
     
    Chapter 22
     
    “When are we going to organize your storage room?” Angel drummed her fingers on her crossed arms and watched the sun sink closer to the ocean. The traffic ahead of Zane’s truck moved at a slug’s pace along A1A.
    “It’ll wait until tomorrow.”
    Tomorrow was another whole day. She couldn’t wait that long, but her only other option was to ask about the package of boat curtains. How was she going to do that without raising his suspicions?
    He added, “It’s too late to start on that at this time of day.”
    She stewed quietly. Once he’d landed at Sunshine Airfield and handled the transfer to the man in a green suit waiting to pick up Chut, Zane rushed her to the truck, claiming he had to run an errand before dark.
    He turned off the beach highway and she unfolded her arms.
    She recognized the area.
    The Gulf Winds Marina sign came into view.
    She couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d driven up to the Taj Mahal. Keeping her excitement hidden took real effort.
    Had Zane loaded the package into the truck without her noticing? She calmly stretched and looked behind her, pretending to take in the scenery.
    The truck bed was empty.
    Her palms dampened at the possibility of finding the package of boat curtains.
    Nibbling on her lip, she asked with as much indifference as she could muster, “What are we doing here?”
    “Quick stop,” Zane answered, explaining nothing. “Won’t take more than ten minutes.”  He parked his big truck in front of the dock for slip 18 and opened his door, saying, “Just keep your head down and I’ll be right back.”
    “No.”  She hadn’t meant to snap at him.
    He stood there,