THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

so far, his men hadn’t captured her.
    She’d wait for her chance, but she would get those coins back.
    Her life depended on it.
    Would they be safe here?
    You didn’t find them . Good point.
    Out on the deck, Angel found Zane waiting for her on the walkway that ran alongside the boat. He reached down to give her a hand up. Their gazes locked when he caught her upper arms and lifted. His strength amazed her when she practically flew up into his arms.
    Tall, with a thin athletic body, Angel had never thought of herself as even remotely petite, but sometimes Zane made her feel as though she were delicate.
    Like now.
    Her feet barely touched the dock. She wrapped her fingers around his waist.
    His hands moved to rest on her shoulders, softly rubbing her tight muscles. Dark eyes turned black with desire the longer he stared at her.
    Standing so close to him, her body ignored all input from her mind. His arms slid down around her back. She leaned into the embrace, unable to resist the comfort offered. With a little pressure, he raised her up until she stood on her toes.
    She held her breath anticipating another sensual kiss.
    He had that look that said he was going to do it then ... at the last second, he dropped a quick peck on her forehead and loosened his grip to go.
    Damn him. She refused to be dismissed so easily and held on. She lifted up and nipped his lower lip. Her fingers crawled up his back until she pulled them together.
    He growled, teetering on the edge of a decision, then kissed her.
    And no question that he meant it. No teasing. He went in for the kill. Her heart beat hard enough to explode. His tongue tangled with hers in a fevered volley.
    He held her close and cupped his palm against her face, holding her exactly where he could destroy any resistance with his mouth.
    One notion chased through her mind.
    If he apologized for this, she’d push him overboard.
    She was vaguely aware he’d moved from her mouth to her ear, but she knew exactly where his hand was when his palm skittered over her breast. Her knees threatened to buckle.
    She moaned.
    He cursed.
    Something splashed the water in the empty slip behind Zane. The world came back into focus too soon.
    His hand disappeared from where he’d touched her. His lips had stilled and all the wonderful sensations shooting through her ended abruptly.
    Glaring up into his mahogany eyes, she warned, “Don’t you dare apologize if you value your life.”
    He said nothing, just let out a long sigh.
    She braced herself for whatever annoying response he’d have this time.
    A feral smile spread across his face. “What am I going to do with you?”
    She had a few suggestions if he couldn’t come up with any. Angel lifted her chin in a silent challenge.
    He shook his head. “You have no idea how close you are to real danger. Let’s go before you find out.”
    She released an exaggerated breath for his benefit.
    He kissed her quickly then grabbed her hand, led her up the dock and loaded her in the truck. As Zane cranked the truck, she noticed the large rope still piled in the back.
    “You forgot to get one of your ropes,” she mentioned.
    “That’s for the anchor. I’m not changing it today. That takes a while.”
    They left the marina heading in the direction of his apartment. This time she wasn’t traveling by a bus on an indirect route, which allowed her to make note of the quickest way back to the marina. Thanks to her marathon and triathlon training, she had the ability to quickly pick up directions and landmarks.
    Warm air off the blistering pavement blew through her open window as Zane weaved through thick Labor Day weekend traffic.
    With her arm outside the window, she waved her hand against the force of the air, enjoying a childhood practice. Her eyes roamed over the passenger side mirror. A beer truck followed Zane’s pickup then she saw a dark sport utility swing a little wide behind a van four cars back.
    Hair stood up along her neck. A gut feeling triggered her antennae for danger. Traffic slowed to a stop. She got a better view of the suspicious vehicle when Zane moved his pickup over to the left lane.
    The make was a Yukon, not a Land Rover.
    Paranoia must have her imagining that every dark sport utility followed her. But when she noticed the vehicle sliding over into Zane’s lane in what appeared to be a late decision, her heart began to pound against her chest.
    No other cars moved in the two lanes to her right. Heavy traffic chugged