by Lori Wilde
That was one upside to being small. When you didn’t want to be seen it was much easier to fly under the radar.
She avoided the firemen, staying out of the way of the crowd, and rounded the corner of the house. She paused beside the gate between her mother’s bungalow and the beach road and saw him scurrying up the path.
Marlie sank back into the shadows as the assassin passed not five feet in front of her. The green windbreaker was gone and he was now wearing a fireman’s hard hat and heavy yellow slicker, but she could never forget that cold, heartless face.
Ice cubes tumbled down her spine.
He was walking fast, headed for a black Camaro parked a quarter of a mile away on the road that ran from her mother’s street to the public beach.
Marlie jerked her head in the direction the man had come from, but saw no sign of Joel. She curled her fingers into fists.
He must have given Joel the slip when he switched his clothes. Joel had never seen him up close. Without the green windbreaker, there would be no way for him to identify the guy.
What if he’d killed Joel?
Marlie felt as if a giant fist punched her in the gut. The coppery taste of fear flooded her mouth. No. He could not be dead. Not big, strong, powerful, omnipresent Joel. He was the only ally she had.
But was he really her ally? She was in a position where she had to trust him, but she must not forget that she didn’t know him. He could be lying to her. Trying to get on her good side.
What should she do? The hit man was getting away and there was no one to stop him. Should she run for one of the cops she’d seen questioning the crowd? Paralyzed by fear, Marlie couldn’t even move, much less plot a course of action.
Quit standing there like a wimp and do something! Angelina bellowed.
“I can’t. I’m terrified. What if the killer sees me? What if this time he doesn’t miss?”
Fine. Get out of my way and I’ll take over.
And just like that, it was all Angelina.
Marlie let go, detaching completely from the unfolding scenario. It was as if she were standing outside herself, observing everything, but feeling nothing. She was disconnected, floating.
Angelina took possession of her body.
It was lithe, strong Angelina who turned Marlie’s compact little legs toward the Dodge Durango parked at the curb.
It was determined Angelina who wrenched open the Durango’s back hatch, found a toolbox, wrenched it open, and unearthed a screwdriver.
It was as if Marlie were watching a movie, a quiet witness, munching popcorn in a darkened theater, along for the ride but essentially untouched by the unfolding drama.
“How did you know Joel carried a toolbox in the back?” Marlie asked.
Guy like him? Big and strong and manly. He’s bound to have all the right tools for the job.
Expertly wielding the screwdriver, Angelina leaned across the front seat to pop out the ignition cylinder. She tossed it aside, jammed the screwdriver into the steering column that the cylinder had just vacated, twisted the screwdriver into the linkage, and then started the engine. She slammed the door shut, scooted the seat up, snapped on her seat belt, and peeled away from the curb, dodging fire trucks and gawkers’ vehicles as she went.
“Wow, where’d you learn to do that?” Marlie asked in amazement.
Comic book #12, “FBI Space Aliens.” We researched it with Cosmo’s cousin, Felix, who used to work for a chop shop in Baytown. Remember?
Oh, yeah. She’d forgotten all about that.
The headlights picked up the Camaro as it shot from the beach road onto the main street right in front of her. Marlie sucked in her breath, barely able to believe how quickly Angelina had gotten the car started. Gone in sixty seconds, indeed.
Angelina was about to shove the accelerator to the floor when a man wildly waving his arms suddenly stumbled onto the road right in front of her.
It was Joel.
Joel looked up as his Dodge Durango screeched to a halt just seconds before plowing right over him.
Marlie rolled the window down, propped her arm on the sill, and said in a light, sexy tone that surprised the hell out of him, “Hop in, handsome.”
Hop in, handsome?
Puzzled by the sudden change in her, Joel threw himself into the passenger seat and buckled up. “Hit it.”
“Gotcha.” She floored the Durango.
The SUV leaped forward in hot pursuit of the Camaro. Joel’s head snapped back against the seat. “Easy, Ms. Andretti.”
“You told me to hit it.”
“You don’t have to hit it that hard.”
“I’m not letting the sucker get away. He burned down my mother’s house and almost killed us.”
“Apparently you’re hell-bent on finishing off the job,” he muttered.
“I never would have figured you for the cautious type.”
“And I never would have figured you for suicidal.”
“Hang on.” Marlie cornered the block at Mach speed, forcing Joel to grab on to the dashboard.
He stared at her. What had happened to the shy woman who’d sat on his davenport only a few hours earlier trembling in his arms? He didn’t know, but he found this new side of Marlie Montague sexy and intriguing as all get out. Now, he understood why the government might suspect her of subversive activities. She’d been hiding her light under a bushel. But which one was the real Marlie? He wanted to find out.
“You’re a menace to the streets.”
“Don’t blame me. The guy in the Camaro started it.”
“Just be careful.”
“You’re not even winded after all that foot chasing.” She looked over at him, a tinge of awe or maybe it was jealousy in her voice. Joel didn’t run ten miles a day for nothing. “What are you? Superhuman?”
“I was about to ask you if you’d qualified for the honor. You aiming for the Indy?”
“Just because I drive a Prius doesn’t mean I don’t occasionally feel the need for speed.”
“Best to keep your eyes on the road when you’re doing eighty-five,” he chided.
“I’m not doing eighty-five.”
“Sure as hell feels like it.”
“I’m doing ninety.” She grinned.
On more than one occasion, Joel himself had driven much faster than ninety. It wasn’t the speed that bothered him, but rather the lack of control. He didn’t like being in the passenger seat, at her mercy. He wished he could edge her aside and slip behind the wheel. “How did you get the Durango started? I’ve got the keys.”
“I know how to hot-wire engines.” She gloated. “And you really should look into a better security system.”
“Where did you learn how to hot-wire cars?”
“I know people.”
“You’re acquainted with the kind of people who routinely steal vehicles?”
“My lips are sealed.”
“Not one to kiss and tell, huh?”
Smiling coyly, she slanted him a sexy look. “You thinking about kissing me?”
“No.” He snorted for emphasis, denying what he was really thinking, which was “Hell, yes.” “Watch the road.”
“You’re dying to wrench this steering wheel right out of my hand and take over, aren’tcha?”
“Yes,” he admitted.
“You’re one of those.”
“Those what?”
“Neanderthals who think women can’t handle cars.”
“You’re handling it just fine.” He gritted his teeth. Last thing he wanted was to get into a men-versus-women-drivers argument with her.
“But you think you could do better.”
“I know I could do better.”
“How so?”
“For one thing I wouldn’t be weaving all over the road.”
“I’m not weaving.”
“Okay, fine. You’re not weaving. Your left front tire just keeps repeatedly crossing the yellow line.”
“It’s Camaro Assassin’s fault
. I’m simply following him.”
Joel took his attention off Marlie and put it back where it belonged, on their target. The Camaro was whipping in and out of traffic and then it turned unexpectedly.
“He’s trying to shake us. Damned if I’m gonna let him.” Marlie jerked the steering wheel and took a hard left.
She tossed her head and her hair fell forward, the tips of the dark brown strands grazing the tops of her breasts. She reached up and slid a lock of hair behind one ear. Joel felt her movements straight through his stomach and his groin.
Something about the way she handled the quivering thrust of his V8 engine inflamed Joel. She was like a luxury automobile herself, with her rounded curves and her bosoms protruding like high-powered headlights.
Enveloped in their cocoon of steel, she rushed him through time and space at a high speed that gushed through his brain and his body. She was fast and furious and dangerous, and he worshiped her in an orgy of pure velocity.
Joel was so busy filling up with testosterone, he’d failed to keep his eye on the Camaro. Up ahead the black sports car hit the main thoroughfare leading over the new drawbridge that connected North Padre Island to Corpus Christi. Marlie stayed right on his tailpipe and narrowly missed getting slammed into a Coca-Cola truck when she ran a Yield sign.
Sweat popped out on Joel’s brow. He’d been in some hairy driving situations, but this took the prize. “Where did you learn to drive like this?”
“Now you’re admiring my driving? A minute ago you were criticizing me.”
“I’m jealous,” he said.
“Jealous? Of what?”
“You’re better than I am.”
“Really?”
“Compliments don’t come easy for me. Accept it and don’t mention it again.”
She laughed. “I learned from a video simulator. Fantastic for developing your reflexes.”
“You’re serious?”
“As a heart attack.”
“Just when I think I have you figured out, you throw me a curve.”
“Uh-oh!” She hissed in her breath. Her gaze was fixed on the road.
Joel didn’t like the sound of that. He took his eyes off Marlie and jerked his attention to the action outside the windshield.
To the right of them lay the bay with a tall freighter chugging toward the bridge. Ahead of them, the bridge-crossing signal arm was coming down as the bridge was about to come up.
The Camaro sped toward the signal arm.
The Durango was four or five car lengths behind.
The freighter was getting closer. The bridge began to move upward.
Inside the Camaro, the driver gunned the engine.
The bridge jerked higher.
“He’s gonna try to jump it!” Joel yelled.
The Camaro slammed into the signal arm, breaking it off clean. The piece flew back, struck the roof of the Durango, and bounced off onto the shoulder of the road.
The sports car was airborne. It leaped the gap in the bridge road and came down hard on the other side but miraculously didn’t blow a tire.
The would-be killer just kept going.
That’s when Joel realized Marlie wasn’t slowing down either. There was fire in her eyes, and the devilish expression on her face told him that she was loving every minute of this. The woman was crazier than Treeni.
And Joel was more turned on than he’d ever been in his life.
But the bridge was much too high now. They’d never make it, but Marlie didn’t seem to realize that.
Or didn’t care.
Alarm shot a wad of adrenaline through his body. “Marlie, no!” he yelled. “Don’t do it.”
Just in the nick of time, she trod the brakes. The Durango fishtailed wildly before coming to a screeching, neck-snapping halt as the bridge reached its full height directly in front of their hood and the freighter glided majestically through the opening.
Wham!
Marlie was back in her body again. No longer the distant observer, she could see and feel and taste and smell and hear everything again. Angelina was gone, and she was left to deal with the adrenaline and fear pumping fast and free through her arteries.
She stared at the drawbridge, saw how close they had come to death. She gasped and splayed a hand across her heart.
What terror.
What a rush.
She gripped the steering wheel with both hands, her breath packed tight inside her lungs. Furtively, she glanced at Joel. He was staring at her.
Incredulous.
She felt a little incredulous herself. There was no mistaking the spark of sexual attraction on his face. Desire shadowed the hollows of his cheeks, giving him a lean and dangerous look.
His eyes lowered in a heavy-lidded, totally masculine ogle. He wet his lips.
Yep, even though Angelina had almost gotten them killed, it seemed Joel had been quite turned on by her daredevil antics.
And Marlie was shocked to discover that so was she.
Oh, God. Apparently, he was one of those people who got their sexual kicks from risky situations.
Was she secretly one too?
Impossible.
I’m just feeling insecure, she told herself, because of all this chaos. Don’t read more into your reaction than that.
But when Joel undid his seat belt and scooted across the seat to cup her chin in his hand, she didn’t think it was so impossible.
“That,” he said, “was one of the craziest, most foolhardy things I’ve ever seen anyone do.”
She couldn’t argue. She agreed one hundred percent. But it hadn’t been her. It was all Angelina’s doing.
“I know.” Marlie drew in a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
“Probably the same thing that’s come over me.”
Then Joel threaded his hand through her hair and fisted it there. He was going to kiss her and she wasn’t going to stop him.
Marlie held that indrawn breath, waiting, hoping, afraid to exhale. She could smell him and the lingering burn of smoke and danger. She wondered how many women before her had been this close to him.
Close enough to touch. To taste.
Oh, God, she was in trouble.
The threat of his lips dangled inches above hers. Angelina, that bold bitch, would have kissed him first, but Marlie was not that brave. She saw the naked truth in his face. The rawness of his need shocked her.
Time to back out. She couldn’t handle what was happening. It was too much. Too soon. She didn’t trust that hot gleam in his eyes. She had to stand up to him, had to draw the line in the sand before she fell into the abyss and never recovered.
“I want you to take your hands off me,” she said, making sure to keep her voice calm and steady when she was feeling anything but. “Now.”
“Is that what you really want?” His voice was as smooth as grade A cream.
The sweetness of his tone frightened her more than the lust in his eyes. Ah, she could be so easily lured in by him.
“Yes.”
He leaned in closer until his lips were almost touching hers. “Really?”
She squirmed and felt a sudden gush of heat low in her belly. Closing her eyes, she murmured, “No.”
“Yes, you want me to kiss you, or no, you don’t? If you want it you have to ask for it. I don’t kiss a woman against her will.”
No! No! No!
“Kiss me.”
Had she really said that? Or was it Angelina butting in again?
He didn’t hesitate. His mouth came down on hers.
Part of her wanted to struggle. Part of her wanted to resist. And part of her was loving every minute of it.
A scorching heat flashed through her, hot and fast, incinerating everything in its path. Her tongue, her throat, her chest, and beyond. She burned from the glorious pressure of his lips.
Burned for him.
She hadn’t been kissed a lot. Didn’t possess a backlog of experience to compare it to. There’
d been a couple of guys in college and a couple more after that. And there’d been Cosmo when he’d tried to convince her to take their friendship to the next level.
The only time in her life that she’d ever instigated a kiss was when she was five years old and had kissed J. J. Hunter when he’d stood up to the bullies for her. J. J. hadn’t kissed her in return. In fact, he’d scrubbed his mouth hard with the back of his hand and told her that now he’d have to get a vaccination for girl cooties.
But this kiss, wow!
It was like nothing she’d ever experienced. Joel’s kiss was raw and real. It was primal and fierce. And it was terrifying to a timid woman who spent most of her life simply fantasizing about such deep, damp kisses, never ever daring to hope she’d actually get to experience them.
Joel’s kiss was ten times better than any dreamy reverie. Strong and rich and knowing. What woman on earth would want to be kissed any other way?
Perfectly, their mouths fit. His larger one closing securely over her smaller one. Just as it had when he’d given her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Except this was much better.
This, she could enjoy.
Naked need, passionate frustration, pure animal lust erupted from him into her and spun a magic that went far beyond the mere joining of their lips. This single wild union was everything.
But it was wrong. She should put a stop to this. Besides, they were in the middle of traffic.
Yeah, Angelina said, but the drawbridge is still up. Go for it. Where else you gonna go?
But what was going to happen once this was over and the drawbridge went down and they had to go back to reality?
Joel fisted his hand tighter in her hair and pulled her even closer to him, penetrating her with his tongue, exploring her fully. She stopped thinking, stopped listening to her monkey mind chattering away, stopped doing anything except allowing the moment to unfold.
He was all that she’d ever envisioned in a lover and so much more. Daring and decisive and direct. He groaned low in his throat. His body strained and pushed against hers and Marlie met him measure for measure, reaching up her hands to cup his face in her palms, marveling at the feel of his thick, warm skin.