“No. Not until you tell me who you’re calling.”
“My mom. Okay?” She wasn’t a very good liar.
He shook his head and headed toward the highway.
“That’s gonna cost you. You can try to answer me again in fifteen minutes. If you lie again, it will be thirty. Take the time to figure out how you want to proceed.” He flipped on the radio and settled in for the next few hours of their drive.
“What? No. Just give me—”
He grabbed her hand when she tried to dive behind him to get his phone.
“Look, trouble, I’m not sure what’s going on, but I do know that you aren’t the innocent bystander I thought you were when this all started. There’s more to you than I’ve seen so far, and until you start being honest with me, you’re not getting very far.”
She rolled her arm to get out of his grip, and he let her go.
In an attempt to keep her tough girl persona going, she crossed her arms over her chest and stared out the window. “Where are you going?”
“Fifteen minutes.” He tapped the digital clock on the dash.
“You said that I couldn’t answer you for that long, not that I couldn’t talk.”
“You’re right.” He nodded. “I wasn’t clear. I’ll explain now. You may not speak for fifteen minutes. Every time you do, another minute will be added. If you keep doing it, I have a brand-new gag in that bag in the back seat. Never been used, just bought it this morning.”
He was being an ass, but damn, that look on her face made his cock hard. Feisty women didn’t usually do it for him. He preferred the ones that went into the dark with him willingly and yearned for him to be devious with them. But this girl—fuck, she brought out the animal in him.
“You’re a real prick.” She kicked the dash.
“That’s another minute. And if you kick my car again, I’ll pull over and tan your ass.” He shouldn’t be threatening her with a spanking. He really did want to help her, but he wouldn’t let her keep acting like a spoiled brat.
She slipped her feet from the dash and turned her attention back to traffic outside her window. When he peeked over at her, he noticed a pretty blush covered her cheeks.
Minutes ticked by and he made it out of the city and headed to the border.
“We’re going to a cabin I have. It’s secluded and safe. Once we’re there I’ll figure out what we should do next. After seeing those two cops at the bar, I’m thinking they might not be the safest way to go right now.” Greg turned the radio down. “Okay, now. Who are you going to call if I give you the phone?”
“My editor,” she said, folding her hands between her legs. “You don’t have to take me to any safe house, he’ll know where I can go.”
“Wait. You’re a writer? Like a journalist?” He turned the radio completely off.
“I answered your question, now give me the phone.” She put her hand out for it.
“I’m not done figuring this out. Is that why you were working at the flower shop?” She couldn’t have been more than twenty-two. Why would she put herself in danger for a fucking story?
“I’m not a reporter. Not yet anyway. I’m working on a story and once I have one, I can get steady work,” she explained like everything she just said made any sense. The little drop in her tone at the end gave her away. If she was going to keep lying to him, she could at least get better at it.
“How old are you?” he asked, switching lanes to get around a semi-truck.
“Twenty-five,” she answered with an edge. He looked her over again and shook his head. “I can show you my driver’s license—well, I could if I had my purse.”
“I wasn’t implying you were lying.” He believed her, at least about her age. It was the rest of everything that still confused him. Why would she be undercover at the flower shop if she didn’t have a concrete position at a paper or network?
“You think going after a story is stupid, foolhardy—more men’s work than women’s?” she asked. He didn’t appreciate being lumped in with whatever assholes she’d obviously met prior to him, but they didn’t have time to debate sexism.
“Right now, I have more questions than answers. If you call your editor, what will he do?”
“He’ll get me somewhere safe, so I can get the piece written. Once it’s turned in, and it hits the papers, then I’ll be safe. They won’t go after the journalist. And I’ll make the accounting anonymous. So, you see, no cops. I can’t give a statement, because I’m just the journalist. Not the witness.”
“You think your byline will keep you safe?” The days of crews like the Santinelli brothers keeping innocent bystanders out of their crosshairs were gone. They didn’t care who they hurt, just so long as it protected the family. If they wanted a witness silenced, they’d do it. Byline or not.
He shook his head. Playing into her lie was getting him all confused. He needed to nip her dishonesty in the bud and soon.
“I think you’re letting your military experience mess with your civilian life. As long as no one is arrested for Antonio’s murder, the whole thing never happened.” Her voice hitched on Antonio’s name.
“How long did you work there?”
“This was my second month,” she answered. After a gentle huff of air, she put her hand back out. “So. Can I call now?”
He shook his head. “You don’t need your editor to get you somewhere safe. I’ve already got that covered.”
“You said—”
“Once we’re at my cabin, I can make a few calls. See what’s going on at the flower shop. If they allowed the body to be found or not.”
“If the body’s not found, no crime, right?”
“Once we know more about that then we can see about you calling your editor,” he said.
“Why do you keep saying editor like that?” she asked.
“Do you know why they wanted Antonio dead?” He ignored her question.
“No.” She really wasn’t any good at lying at all.
He let out a breath. Until he could get the full story from her, he wasn’t letting her out of his sight. And if that meant he had to keep her on a short leash, he would.
Looking over at her, he grinned. The idea had more merit with each passing moment.
Chapter Six
Nora woke up to the car rattling up a dirt road. Seeing all the trees and secluded area around her made her heart start racing. This looked like a perfect place to dump a body.
But she was with Greg. Her self-appointed bodyguard. Why would he kill her himself when he could just hand her over to the Santinellis. She didn’t like lying, and she wasn’t particularly good at it. But she didn’t see much of a choice at the moment.
After another turn, he pulled the car up to a small cabin. He parked on the side of the building.
“Where are we?” she asked, hoping for more than the obvious.
“This is my hunting cabin,” he said with a grin. She hadn’t seen him smile like that before. A little sarcasm leaked into his words, but he seemed pleased with whatever joke he was telling.
“You hunt?” No antlers decorated the outside of the cabin, although it looked relatively new. Maybe he just hadn’t had time to get them all hung yet.
“Not animals.” He shrugged and climbed out of the car, leaving her to wonder what the hell he was talking about.
She climbed out of the air-conditioned car into the warm early evening air. Rays from the sun streaked through the trees but didn’t interrupt the shade they provided.
Nora followed Greg to the front door of the cabin, while surveying the area. Other than the worn tracks from vehicles coming and going, there wasn’t much of a road from the cabin to the main road they’d been on. And even that one was more rocks and grass than road. If she managed to get away from him, she’d have a several-hour trek on her hands before she had any possibility of meeting a neighbor or another car.
Without sunlight, she wouldn’t chance getting lost in the woods. She’d have to wait until morni
ng to scope out a better strategy of escape.
He pushed the door open and gestured for her to enter. The scent of fresh paint welcomed her as she stepped inside. It wasn’t much of a cabin. A small living area off an even smaller cooking space.
“There’s a bedroom down the hall and the washroom is down there too. Don’t drink the water though. I just had the indoor plumbing installed and the water might have some rust in it until it’s been running for a bit.”
“One bedroom?” she asked, scratching the back of her elbow. Damn mosquitoes.
“Yeah, trouble. Just one.” He smiled and moved over to the temperature control unit on the wall.
“There’s AC?” she asked, thrilled that she wouldn’t be sweating her way through the night.
“Yep. The unit’s out back, under the bedroom window, we’ll hear it running during the night, but it shouldn’t be too loud.” He clicked a few buttons, and she heard the rumbling of the unit kick on.
“We?” He’d said we, not her, or him, but we.
“Yeah.” He didn’t add anything else and headed to the narrow fridge in the kitchen area. “If you dance anymore, you’re gonna piss yourself. The bathroom’s down the hall, like I said.”
Damn him for calling attention to that. And more so, for her face heating up like a damn tanning lamp just at his mention of her situation.
“Fuck you,” she muttered and headed to the bathroom. The decor of the cabin was pretty simple. A little minimalist, but she could get behind that. She didn’t decorate her apartment much either. Too hard to pack up everything every time she needed to move. Better to keep everything simplistic.
The bathroom was a little cramped, but she wasn’t surprised. The whole cabin was a good fit for an episode of tiny houses. A stand-up shower and a toilet with an oval mirror hung over the sink.
After emptying her bladder and washing her hands, she looked around for a hand towel. Finding nothing, she wiped her hands on her cut-offs and headed back out to the living room. She noticed two doors when she stepped out of the washroom. He’d only mentioned one bedroom. They’d been clear on the fact there was one bedroom.
Taking a quick peek, she made sure he was out of her line of sight and turned the handle on the door closest to her. A bedroom. King-sized bed, a dresser, a hope chest pressed against the foot of the bed. She closed the door silently and moved to the second room.
She heard something drop to the floor in the kitchen and paused to be sure he wasn’t walking toward her. Long moments passed with no more sound, so she started to turn the knob.
“Curiosity killed the cat, you know.” That deep voice of his ran along her back. She could feel the heat of him and knew he wasn’t more than a half step behind her.
How did he get so close without her hearing him?
“You said you were a marine, not a ninja,” she replied.
He laughed and leaned into her, pressing her against the door.
“Do you really want to know what’s in here? After how you reacted to my spare bedroom at my apartment, I’m not sure you can handle it.” His breath was on her shoulder. She clenched her eyes closed, unsure of the feelings awakening inside her.
“No, that’s okay,” she answered and pushed back against him. He stepped back. She hadn’t been trapped, he just let her feel like it.
“There isn’t much in the way of food here. Just some essentials like chips and beer, a case of ramen noodles.”
She turned around to face him. He had that sexy grin on his lips again, the one she’d seen at the flower shop.
“Whatever. I’m fine.” Of course, her stomach took that moment to make its emptiness known and growled.
Greg looked at her stomach, where her hands were now covering and laughed. “We really should do something about your habit of lying. C’mon, let’s get you something to eat.”
She followed him to the kitchen.
“I have some bottled water in the fridge, too, in case beer isn’t your thing.” He grabbed a bag of chips and tore it open, offering her the bag.
“Thanks.” She took the bag from him and sat down at the table. “Beer’s fine,” she said when he opened the fridge.
He popped open two bottles and handed one to her, finding himself a spot near the doorway to lean against the wall and try to kill her with all his hotness.
She was going to get a man once this was all finished, because obviously it had been too long since she had one. Not that he wasn’t hot as hades with his fit physique, his tattoos and strong jaw. But fuck if she would get involved with GI Joe.
“So, this is your place?” she asked after chomping on the salty goodness that was potato chips.
“Yeah. Well, and Blake’s. There’s a main house down the road a bit. I don’t stay there though, it’s his. I like having this cabin and the woods.”
“You own the woods?” She paused mid-chip selection to ask.
He laughed. “Not all of it. Just about a hundred acres around the main house.”
“How do you know we’ll be okay here? If you own this place, the Santinellis will find it,” she said.
“It’s all listed under a corporate name. There was some trouble a while back that made it necessary to hide it a bit better than just using our names. And even if they figure that out, this place isn’t listed. It’s not on any map, and most of the roads we used to get up here aren’t even marked.”
All good points. She could breathe a little easier until she got a hold of Bernie and found a better place for her to go. But she couldn’t just leave him behind either; he’d been good enough to save her. Even if she hadn’t needed it. He was doing what he thought was right, and in doing it put himself in the middle of her mess. She’d have to bring him with for the time being until it was safe for him to return to his normal life.
Normal life. Wouldn’t that be nice. It’d been so long since she enjoyed something resembling the notion.
“What about you? Any family that will start looking for you? We can’t call from here, but I can ask Blake to get a message through if needed?”
Family. She buried her answer in the bottle of beer and took a long pull.
“No,” she answered, wiping a drop from her chin when he continued to stare at her, waiting. “No family.” That would want to hear from her anyway.
She ran her fingers through her hair, pulling through an occasional knot. His gaze was on her, searching her, she could sense the questions in him. She had fewer answers than he would probably accept.
“Hey.” He put his beer down on the table and sat across from her, placing his hand over her own. “I’m sorry for what happened today. Your boss—Antonio. Were you two close?”
The concern in his voice tore at her. He may have an arsenal of weapons in that secret room of his, but he didn’t give off the psychopath killer vibe anymore.
“Not really. I hadn’t been there long. A couple of months.” As close to the truth as she could come. Fuck, she hated not being able to spill everything. But doing so would only get him in deeper shit than he already found himself. And he was too fucking hot to be sporting a bullet hole in the center of his forehead.
“He didn’t deserve what happened to him.” He deserved worse, but she didn’t relay that bit to Greg.
“Maybe not.” Greg squeezed her hand. “I’ve heard stories about the Santinelli family, and if Antonio was working with them or for them, chances are he didn’t exactly stay on the right side of the law. And if the brothers wanted him dead, it was probably over money.”
Nora brought her gaze up from the table to Greg’s. Shouldn’t he be trying to comfort her, not insinuating Antonio got what he was owed?
“Not everything you hear on the street is the truth.” She pulled her hand from beneath his and sat back in her chair. The warmth of his skin on hers made it harder for her to separate from him. And that was goal number one. Get away from Greg so he could remain safe, and she could do the same.
“Very true. I didn’t mean to imply A
ntonio was a bad guy, just well, he probably ran with the wrong crowd.” Greg’s lips pinched together and turned up in a forced smile.
She laughed at his failed attempt to backpedal and shook her head.
“It’s fine.” She downed the rest of her beer, holding back a burp when it bubbled up her chest. Not exactly a sexy thing to belch across the table at the hero. Only Greg didn’t feel heroic to her.
Definitely a leader of the pack sort of man, but not a ‘let’s take on the world’ type.
“So, what made you get out of the marines? You seem kinda young to have retired already.”
His shoulders rolled back and his back straightened. The topic made him uneasy.
“Didn’t want to re-up is all. I missed my niece, Bella, being born, didn’t want to miss much more by not being around.” He grabbed his empty bottle from the table and brought it to the sink. Okay, so topics to avoid—the military.
“I think I’d like to take a shower if that’s okay with you?” She brought her bottle to the sink as well, brushing against his arm when she placed it beside his own. It was just a gentle touch, barely even noticeable, so why did it set a tingle through her entire body?
“Sure. There should be towels in there. We didn’t stop for clothes, but I have a shirt you can sleep in.”
“Okay. Thanks,” she said.
A shower. A cold shower. Just the thing.
Chapter Seven
Greg watched her disappear down the hall, her hips swaying gently with each step and the very bottom of her ass cheeks peeking out from her cut-offs. He groaned internally, and snagged the bag of chips from the table, rolling it down and pinning it closed before stashing it back in the cabinet.
They’d need real food soon, like tomorrow. And she’d need clothes. Longer shorts that didn’t show off that ass of hers, and loose-fitting shirts. The woman had too many curves to keep his focus elsewhere.
He couldn’t completely blame her body; he’d been attracted to women before. But this was different; something else drew his attention. Maybe it was that steel strength he saw in her. Or her stubbornness. Maybe it all reminded him too much of a crush that went unsatisfied.
Becoming His Pet Page 4
