“Why now? Why wait all this time?”
“I would have left you alone if it weren’t for Alex. He just had to chase after you, just had to stir things up….”
His tone had turned harder, and she watched his one-handed grip on the steering wheel tighten. Her gaze dropped to the gun, cradled in his left hand, and her stomach knotted again. She fought off the urge to vomit.
Focus. She had to stay calm and focused.
Yasmine saw that the next light was green, and her stomach twisted into a tighter knot. She had no idea how she could escape with a gun pointed at her, anyway, unless she caught him off guard. Unless she jumped when he wasn’t expecting it.
Which would be painful as hell, especially considering they were passing cars parked on the curb. Maybe she couldn’t even jump out safely. But she glanced over at the gun, at the grim set of Agent Connelly’s jaw. And she knew he wouldn’t let her go. No one pulled a gun on a person he intended to have a friendly agreement with. No one made sexual threats toward a woman he didn’t intend to harm.
She had to find a place to jump out, maybe at an intersection during a green light.
But her unlocking the door would alert him to her intentions. So she’d have to distract him somehow. She mentally inventoried the contents of her purse for anything that might catch him off guard, but unless she could disarm him with a tube of lipstick, she was out of luck there.
Her gaze settled on a cup of coffee in the cup holder between their seats. Steam rose up through the small hole in the plastic lid. Still hot. But could she reach for it without him getting an itchy trigger finger?
The radio volume was turned low, and a barely audible talk show played over the car’s speakers. Could she turn up the volume without him getting suspicious? Maybe ask to change the station?
Too risky.
They passed a homeless man wearing an orange coat and pushing a child’s stroller piled high with garbage, and Yasmine watched as he wandered into the street. Their car slowed to a stop at a red light, while the homeless man continued making his way between the parked cars and the traffic on the street.
Agent Connelly spotted him, too, just as he headed for the rear of the car. “Damn homeless, ruining the city,” he said as the light turned green and he let his foot off the brake.
This was her chance, probably as distracted as he was going to get. He was still watching the homeless guy in the rearview mirror. The man had wandered into the lane behind them and was blocking traffic.
Yasmine said a little prayer, reached for the coffee cup, and grabbed it. With her other hand she flipped off the flimsy plastic lid, then hurled the cup toward Agent Connelly’s face. He yelped in pain and let loose with a string of curses as he swiped at his face with his arm that held the gun. The car slowed as his foot slipped off the gas.
Without another thought, she slammed her hand down onto the automatic lock, grabbed the door handle, and jerked open the car door, realizing only as she tried to jump out the door that she was still wearing her seat belt.
Damn it.
Her hands shook as she fumbled with the seat belt lock, sparing a glance at Agent Connelly, whose face had turned an ugly red as he swiped at it, gun still in hand.
“You bitch!” she heard him say as she freed herself from the seat belt.
Then the sound of a gunshot drowned out all other sound, and searing pain invaded her thigh. Sheer force of will propelled her from the car, dragging her leg like a dead, throbbing weight. She slammed against the asphalt and started rolling forward, her skin burning along with her leg now.
In the chaos she heard another gunshot. And she scrambled to her knees, then her feet, and ran without regard for the pain in her leg between the parked cars, around the parking meters and pedestrians who had stopped to gawk, only a few thinking clearly enough to run or hide.
“Hey, do you need help?” someone called after her.
But she couldn’t stop yet. She had to get away.
Down the street to the next corner, up the cross street, through a parking lot and into a shoe store where she’d once bought a pair of cross trainers. The employee behind the counter took one look at her bloody leg and came rushing out to help.
“Call 911,” she said as she sank onto the nearest bench, shaking and out of breath.
The shoe salesman turned back to the counter and dialed. “Have you been shot?” he asked as he waited for an answer.
“Yes, once in the leg.” And now that she took a look at herself, she saw that her other leg was bleeding, too. Her jeans had ripped away when she hit the asphalt, baring her skin to the rough surface, and it looked as if she’d left some of it behind on the street. Her arm was scraped and bloody too, and judging by the burning sensation on her cheek and brow, she had to assume her face had met a similar fate.
The salesman put the operator on hold after having a short conversation. “We need to stop the bleeding. An ambulance is on the way.”
“Do you have a place in back? The guy who shot me might still be out there.”
“We have some towels and a first-aid kit in the break room.” He helped her up from the bench and supported her as they walked to the back.
Outside, she could hear a police siren in the distance, and she wondered for the first time what kind of scene she’d left behind her. Thank heaven for that homeless guy, or she might not have gotten out with just a gunshot wound in her thigh.
In the safety of the store’s break room, she sat down and felt herself get dizzy, then decided to rest her head on the table. Her leg hurting like hell, her face and arm burning from where she’d smacked the road, nausea churning her stomach, she stayed there while the salesman assured the 911 operator that he’d followed their instructions. She sat in a daze until sirens sounded right outside the store and men in uniforms rushed in and started tending to her.
Minutes later she was in an ambulance, on a gurney, on her way to the hospital, and she was finally able to relax and drift off into the comfort of darkness.
CASS SAT IN THE PASSENGER SEAT of Drew’s car, in love as always with the sight of the Golden Gate Bridge, the rust-colored pillars towering above them as they crossed it. Once they’d crossed into Marin County, Drew took the Marin Headlands exit, and they headed west, away from the main road.
It was the night before New Year’s Eve, and Drew had been acting kind of funny all evening, as though he had ants in his pants or something on his mind. She tried not to think about what it might mean.
Because, much as she enjoyed their sexual relationship, the looming complications were stressing her out, and she wanted out before things got too heavy. Drew was too sweet a guy to have his heart broken by the likes of Cass. She was just waiting for the right time to tell him that he had two options with her—strictly sex or nothing at all.
She had to admit that she got an uneasy feeling about this whole situation. She might already be too late in avoiding complications. Drew’s carefully selected outfit, his haircut, their well-thought-out evening together—on top of his antsy state of mind—all added up to trouble.
Drew navigated the car along the narrow road bordering the coast. Cass had been here once before, maybe as a kid. The city was visible across the bay, and as they headed farther out, she knew that even the Farrallon Islands could be seen on the horizon ahead on a clear day.
They passed a picnic area, and Drew stopped the car where the road ended at a scenic lookout point that was uninhabited by other people at the moment. It was one of those rare places near the city where a person could go and actually hope to be alone.
“Been here before?” he asked when he killed the engine.
“Maybe once. It’s been forever, though. What made you think of coming out here?”
He smiled and gave her an odd look. “Get out of the car.”
“You didn’t bring me out here to kill me, did you?”
“Not a chance.”
Outside the car, wind whipped Cass’s hair into her face
, and she pulled her leather coat closed tightly, then fastened the top button. She wrapped the red wool scarf that had been draped around her collar a little tighter as she walked to the fenced-off edge of the gravel parking area.
Down below, waves churned against the rocks, and though the sky was a deepening blue as the sun sank lower and lower past the horizon, while the ocean, as always, looked dark and brooding. A couple of seagulls squawked nearby, while a third poked along on the ledge, probably waiting for them to produce some food.
Drew came up behind her and slipped his hands around her waist, pulling her to him and warming her backside. He kissed the side of her neck and nestled his face against her.
“You have any New Year’s resolutions?” he asked.
“Every year I say I’m going to work out six times a week or stop eating junk food or be nicer to my mother or all three, and none of it ever happens. This year I think I’ll go for simplicity.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I want to make a resolution I can actually keep.”
“How about spending more time with me?” he asked, his tone teasing, though Cass got the feeling he was doing anything but.
Before she could answer he added, “Exclusively as my girlfriend?”
Cass’s throat seized up. Did people actually ask for exclusive agreements anymore? It seemed like such a quaint gesture, like offering her his class ring.
“Hmm,” she said, scrambling to think of an appropriately gentle response but producing nothing.
“What does that mean?”
“Oh, nothing. I’m just a little caught off guard. I mean, we only met last week.”
“I’m thirty-six. I can figure out pretty quickly by now if I like a woman or not.”
“I have no doubt we like each other. I just don’t think an exclusive arrangement is really…what I’m looking for.”
“You want to date other men?”
“No, not at all,” she said, turning to face him, wanting to make sure he saw her smile, fake as it might have been. “But what if your Miss Perfect comes along—”
Wrong thing to say. His expression turned hard. “I thought she already had.”
“I can guarantee you, I’m not your Miss Perfect.”
“Cass, I know what I feel.”
“You feel a fuzzy-headed, misguided sense of affection brought on by intense feelings of lust.”
“No, that’s not it.” He took her hands in his and gave her a look that said he was all business.
Damn it. She should have seen this disaster coming a mile away. She should have taken precautions to avoid it—acted a little flakier, not put so much of herself into the sex, not let down her guard so easily.
Damn it, damn it, damn it.
“I’m really into you, Cass. Like it or not, I am, and I don’t need any more time to know it. I thought we were on the same page there. And I want to give us a chance.”
All the air whooshed out of her lungs, and if Drew hadn’t been holding on to her, the wind might have knocked her over.
“I’m sorry, Drew.” She shook her head, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. He was a sweet guy, and she didn’t want to hurt him, but…“I thought we were just having some fun.”
The seagull that had been skulking around nearby edged closer, possibly contemplating whether it could eat their fingers if they didn’t produce any food. Cass’s gaze focused on it instead of Drew.
“So what? You’re not interested in making this exclusive?”
“I’m not interested in relationships at all. I’ve tried the romance thing and, honestly, I’m happier without it.”
She didn’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes, but there it was, clear as the sky above them.
His hands fell away from her, and he took a step back. “I didn’t realize—”
“No, I should have told you right up front.”
“I’d better take you home, then.”
Cass’s mouth hung open, words failing her. There had to be something she could say to fix this. Something witty, something sexy, something kind.
“We could still have dinner together.”
“I don’t see the point,” his said with a shrug. He was trying to sound casual, but beneath the light tone there was something else.
She knew that tone. She’d heard it before, and she’d used it herself. She’d hurt him worse than he was letting on.
“Drew, please don’t be upset. All I’m saying is, I’m not wired like other women. I really love being alone.”
“That’s fair, but I do have all the normal wiring. I want a relationship to go along with the sex, and I really don’t understand how you couldn’t.”
Cass’s stomach twisted. She didn’t expect him to understand, but she hated hurting him nonetheless.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean for things to turn out this way.”
She went to the car and got in, then sat staring out the window at the stunning scenery ahead. She’d gotten what she wanted, right? She’d eliminated the possibility of future complications with Drew. So why did getting what she wanted feel like total crap?
16
THE CALL CAME to Alex on his cell phone. A former colleague from the FBI called to tell him Agent Connelly had been arrested and that Yasmine had been hurt.
Of all the stupid mistakes Alex had made regarding Yasmine, this was by far the stupidest. He’d screwed up again when he’d tried to fix things, and he should have foreseen all that could go wrong.
As he raced across town to the hospital, his insides churning at the thought of Yasmine hurt, he realized how much he’d come to care for her. She wasn’t just someone he was falling in love with.
She was the one woman he’d wanted since he’d first laid eyes on her. He’d been falling in love with her for years, and knowing her now only sealed the deal. He was head over heels, and there was no way around the fact.
The words kept echoing in his head. Yasmine was shot. She’s in the E.R. at San Francisco General.
She’d been shot. That horrible fact played itself over and over in his mind. She was recovering, but she’d been shot, and Alex had failed to protect her, had led Connelly right to her, had endangered Yasmine’s life with his own desire for her.
How badly was she hurt? How long would it take her to recover? He imagined the worst—imagined internal damage worse than their hopeless love affair could ever have caused, worse than anyone would want to reveal over the phone.
And the thought of her lying in the hospital injured caused his chest to grow tight, his throat to constrict, his breath to be fast and shallow.
By the time he found Yasmine in the E.R., resting with her leg, arm and face bandaged, he’d already managed to scare himself half to death with her imagined injuries.
When she spotted him in the doorway, she didn’t smile, but she didn’t alert security, either. “Hi,” she said without any emotion.
He was at the side of her bed instantly. “What happened?”
“Oh, nothing much. Just got myself kidnapped, shot in the leg and had to jump out of a moving car.”
“It was Connelly, wasn’t it?”
She nodded. “I was dumb enough to think he was legit when he said he needed to take me in for questioning.”
“Dumb has nothing to do with it. He had everyone fooled. I think he wanted to use you to get classified information he could sell to interested third parties.”
“Did the police catch him?”
“Yes, you’re safe, and I’m really sorry.”
She waved away his apology.
“How bad is the gunshot wound?”
“It hit me in the thigh, but the bullet penetrated just below the skin and passed through. No major damage done.”
“Thank God. How are you feeling?”
“Not bad, considering. I got a little road rash from jumping out of the car, but it’ll heal.”
Alex sat down on the edge of the bed. “When I heard you were
hurt, I was terrified. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life.”
She laughed. “Don’t get all melodramatic on me. I’m okay.”
“Seriously, Yasmine. I feel like this is partly my fault.”
“You couldn’t have known what Connelly was up to.”
“I could have if I’d paid more attention. If I’d been less focused on you and more focused on the facts.”
“Nobody’s perfect.”
He had to tell her. She had to know how he felt, how far from right his life was without her. How much he wanted her—more than anything else he’d ever wanted.
“Yasmine, please give me another chance.” He didn’t care if he had to beg. He’d get on his knees if that’s what it took.
A stricken look crossed her face, and she quickly subdued it. He’d hurt her, no doubt, and he had no right to expect forgiveness.
“I’ve wanted you since the first moment I laid eyes on you. Can we start all over again, take things slow, follow all the relationship rules and see what happens?”
She shook her head, and Alex felt his one true chance at lasting happiness slipping through his fingers. “Trust me, once you’ve started breaking the rules, it’s hard to go back.”
“You did. You turned your life around.”
“But I never wanted to take it slow with you. That’s just not the kind of relationship we could have.”
“Why can’t we try?”
She closed her eyes for a moment, and he found himself mesmerized by the lush black quarter moons of lashes resting on her cheeks. When she opened her eyes again, he could see they were damp with tears.
“I’m sorry. You’ll always be that guy on the witness stand to me. You’ll always be a reminder of the worst time of my life, and I don’t want that. I paid for my crimes. I don’t want you in my life haunting me forever.”
Her words were a punch to his gut. One he should have seen coming, one that he had to sit and take like a man. He never should have expected anything more. And she was right—she didn’t deserve to have a ghost haunting her for the rest of her life.
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