The Renegade

by Rhonda Nelson

  A throat cleared, then, “Mia?”

  Mia jolted away from him as though she’d been poked with a cattle prod. Her startled, guilty gaze darted to the left and she rubbed her hand over her mouth, as though she could erase the taste of him. That stung more than it should.

  The Boyfriend, Tanner thought, instantly recognizing the guy from the pictures he’d just seen in the apartment. Shit.

  “Harlan,” Mia gasped. “I— It’s not— This is not what it looks like,” she finally managed to say, her voice thin and choppy. She was clearly mortified and it was his fault. Damn, damn, damn. They hadn’t even made it out of the parking lot yet.

  Harlan merely smiled, but his eyes remained cool behind his gold-rimmed glasses. “It’s not? Because it looks like you were kissing this guy. Your security agent, I presume?” he asked questioningly. “In the parking lot of my apartment building.”

  “I was,” Mia allowed, dragging the word out as she framed her defense. “But not for the reason you suspect. One of the reporters who’s been tailing the exhibit was waiting for me, threatening to follow me to the airport. Tanner played the jealous boyfriend to run him off, but he kept sitting in his car so we…”

  “Thought you’d make out?” Harlan suggested helpfully. He crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels. His gaze slid to Tanner for the first time and a little smirk curled his thin lips. Harlan was a helluva lot quicker than Ackerman, Tanner realized. “No doubt that was your plan.”

  Mia blinked and her gaze shifted to Tanner. He saw the exact instant when Harlan’s implication registered. Her gaze went from melting chocolate—his favorite—to cold brown granite, and her nostrils flared with irritation. She gave a how-could-I-be-so-stupid eye roll and released a tiny sigh.

  Tanner heaved a big one.

  Admittedly Harlan had a reason to be pissed, but raking Mia over the coals and making her miserable wasn’t cool.

  Particularly since this was all his fault.

  He quirked a brow. “Harlan, is it?”

  The guy nodded stiffly.

  “Look, Harlan, I made a judgment call and I’m sorry that it’s upset you. Yes, I am Mia’s security agent, but I can hardly tell anyone that, especially a reporter. I’m sure you understand,” he explained, the implication being only a half-wit wouldn’t. He shrugged. “Am I sorry for kissing her? No. I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep her safe. If that means I stomp on your pride in the process, then so be it. Ultimately, it’s not about you.”

  Harlan paused. “You mean, the statue, don’t you?”

  “What?”

  “You said keep her safe. Don’t you mean the statue?”

  He inwardly swore, belatedly realizing his slip. “They are both under my protection until we reach Dallas.” He looked at Mia, who was still quite obviously furious with him. “I’m going to load the car. I’ll give you two a minute.”

  Long enough to say goodbye, but not long enough to resolve anything, Tanner thought.

  And the fact that he even cared annoyed the hell out of him.

  HARLAN SMILED SADLY. “This isn’t working for you, is it?”

  “Harlan—”

  “Mia, you don’t have to deny it. You’re six shades of red and only three of them account for the shamefaced blush. You’ve had one foot out the door for months now. Don’t insult my intelligence by pretending otherwise.”

  Impossibly, she felt her face flame even hotter. She looked away, watching a little house sparrow scamper around and peck a crack in the sidewalk. “I, uh…”

  What could she say? He was right. If he hadn’t walked up and interrupted them, who knew what would have happened? She doubted they’d have dropped onto the pavement and gone at it right there, but moving things into the car had certainly been a possibility.

  To her absolute chagrin, she’d had no thought of stopping.

  In fact, she’d been too busy feeling to do anything else.

  The thick, hot rush of desire. The warm muddled sensation in her belly. The tingly heat pulsing in her nipples. The deep, rhythmic throbbing in her weeping sex. All of it combined with the exquisite sensation of his mouth feeding at hers, those big, strong hands sliding over her body, framing her face. She shivered anew, remembering, and let out a shallow breath. It had been so long…

  When she looked up, Harlan was smiling at her, confirmation of his suspicions in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Harlan,” she said, wincing with regret.

  He slid a finger down her cheek. “I am, too, but that doesn’t change the outcome, does it? I know how to recognize an exit scene and this is mine.”

  He jerked his head toward the car, where Tanner waited. Impatiently, by the look of it, which served him right. Self-serving bastard. Sneaky sonofabitch. She couldn’t believe he’d taken advantage of her like that.

  “I can’t compete with that,” Harlan finished.

  Mia swallowed, uncomfortably aware of how much she was botching this. Harlan was a good man—not the right one for her, sadly—but good all the same and she didn’t like making him feel small. “It isn’t a competition.”

  He looked away, seeming to choose his words carefully. “It can’t be if I take myself out of it.” He stepped back and sent Tanner a speculative glance. “Be careful with this guy, Mia. That’s the trouble with fire. It burns.”

  And with that parting advice, he brushed a kiss against her cheek, then turned and walked away.

  Though she’d known this was the only possibly out come, that the relationship was never going to be anything more than lukewarm and comfortable, she nevertheless wouldn’t have chosen to end things this way. She could have let Harlan down gently, left him with a little bit of dignity. They would have discussed it like rational, mature adults, come to the mutual agreement that things weren’t working and parted ways. He wouldn’t have had to witness her practically velcroed to Tanner, making out like a couple of hormone-happy teenagers with no curfew and a hot condom at the ready.

  She turned and glared daggers at Tanner through the windshield of the car.

  Follow my lead.

  She could cheerfully throttle him.

  Mia pushed her hair away from her still-burning face, turned on her heel and made her way to the car. She pulled the handle up, but the latch held. Her nail didn’t. She inhaled sharply at the pain, then looked at her wrecked manicure and felt the childish urge to stamp her foot like a thwarted toddler. A frustrated scream built in the back of her throat and it took every ounce of control she possessed to keep it down to a mere growl.

  This was his fault, too, she thought furiously, pulling the rest of the ruined nail from her finger. Idiot man. What kind of security specialist locked the person he was supposed to be protecting out of the car? Brilliant, right? She heard the telltale click of the lock tumble back, then jerked the door open and flung herself into the passenger seat. “Way to protect me, genius,” she said, her voice tight. “I can’t say that I’m familiar with the old locking-your-target-out-of-the-car procedure.”

  She had the pleasure of watching his cheeks flush. Irritatingly, it only made him more handsome. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I’m not used to this car.”

  Without bothering to look at him, she dug a nail file from her purse and tried to smooth the rough edges from her index finger. “And yet that doesn’t inspire confidence.”

  He slipped the gearshift into Reverse and smoothly backed out of the space, before dropping it into Drive and hitting the accelerator. Tires squealed as they darted off and she felt the small of her back land firmly against the seat. Show off, she thought, hating the fact that her pulse kicked up. A competent driver had always turned her on.

  “Furthermore,” he said, his voice tight. “My primary concern is Dick, not you, and he was never in any danger.” He grimaced at her hand and swallowed. “I’m sorry about your nail.”

  She whirled on him, her mouth dropping open in outraged shock. “You’re sorry about my nail? My nail? You tricked me into kissing you, my
boyfriend saw and now we’ve broken up. And you’re sorry about my nail?” She rested against the seat once more and shook her head at his gall. “That’s rich, Tanner.”

  Tanner shot her a look. “He broke up with you? Over that? Seriously?”

  She snorted under her breath. “Follow my lead, my ass,” she muttered, still in a state of shock. “And I did, fool that I am.” She gave her head a disbelieving shake, still stunned at her own stupidity. “I am a complete and utter moron.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” he advised, to her astonishment, quite seriously. “I might have played you a little bit, but I had no idea that your boyfriend would catch us.” He negotiated a turn, one that would put them on the interstate soon. “And since it didn’t occur to you, either, I don’t see how you can hold me accountable for that.”

  It was hard to argue with that kind of logic, though she desperately wished she could. Damn him for being right. She hadn’t thought once of Harlan when Tanner had kissed her. Hadn’t spared her boyfriend a thought, formed even a token protest. There was something quite telling in that, but she was too busy being irritated at Tanner to think it through properly.

  Her brooding gaze slid to his profile, taking in the lean lines of his face, the easy competent grace in his hands as he handled the car. Hands that had just as competently handled her just a few minutes ago. A rush of warmth pooled in her middle and her palms literally itched to touch him again, to feel every perfectly proportioned inch of him beneath her fingers. She massaged the bridge of her nose and released another tiny sigh.

  “You okay?” He slid her a nervous look. “You aren’t going to cry, are you?”

  Because he looked so comically worried, Mia toyed with the idea of producing a few tears, but ultimately dismissed it. “No,” she said, heaving a sigh. She dropped her head back against the seat and relaxed more fully. “I’m not going to cry.”

  “Girls usually cry when they break up with their boyfriends.”

  Her lips twitched in a sad effort at a smile. “This girl knew it was coming.”

  A beat slid to three as he seemed to wrestle with asking her what she meant. It was a personal question and, though she knew he wasn’t averse to getting personal with her on a physical level, getting into the sticky details of her love life was something else altogether. Just when she was convinced that he wasn’t going to ask, he did. In a voice that was just as grudging as it was reluctant. He didn’t like wanting to know and, for whatever reason, that burst a little bubble of happiness inside her.

  He drummed his fingers impatiently against the steering wheel. “Why did you know it was coming?”

  She shrugged. “Things have felt a bit off for a while.”

  Okay, so that was sort of truthful. She didn’t have to tell him that they’d never felt particularly on. That something—a key component—had always been missing. Mia had thought that being friends would be enough, that being with a like-minded person with the same interests and values would suffice. It had come as quite a shock to her when she realized it wouldn’t. When the lack of physical compatibility had become a real issue.

  He inclined his head knowingly. “Ah. In the bedroom?”

  She turned to glare at him, irritated at his presumptive but annoyingly correct assumption. As though all she needed from a man was a good roll in the sack.

  “No,” she denied, exasperated. “Harlan is a spectacular lover,” she lied baldly, suddenly hit with the uncontrollable urge to needle him, to make him pay for the scene outside the apartment building. She smiled and twisted a lock of hair around her finger, pretending to recall a certain magical memory. She chuckled low and gave her head a small shake. “No, the bedroom was where we went when everything else was going wrong. That sure as hell wasn’t the problem.”

  Clearly that was not the answer Tanner had been expecting to hear. His facial expression had blanked and his lips had turned down at the corners, as though he’d smelled something bad. She gave a little inward cheer.

  “So what then?” he asked, his voice curiously flat. “You belong to different political parties? He liked forking better than spooning? He wasn’t intellectually stimulating enough?”

  “F-forking better t-than spooning?” she repeated, snickering under her breath. “That’s a new one.”

  “You didn’t answer me,” he told her.

  He took the exit for sixty-six west, merging seamlessly into the heavy flow of traffic. He kept a careful watch in the rearview mirror, constantly taking stock of their surroundings. She got the feeling that if she asked him about the make and model of the car five lengths behind them, he’d be able to tell her without hesitating. Though he gave the impression of effortless unconcern, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that those keen eyes weren’t missing a thing.

  “That’s because I don’t know exactly,” she finally answered. She picked at a lose thread on the hem of her shirt. “On the surface, he was perfect. Steady, stable, loyal.”

  A sardonic grin curled his lips. “Like a golden retriever.”

  “No, like a good man is supposed to be,” she said simply. “There’s a lot to be said for a guy who doesn’t bolt, who wants a home and family. He’s smart and funny and like I said, the sex was phenomenal.”

  “So you’ve said,” he muttered tightly. A muscle jumped in his tense jaw. “But?”

  But he couldn’t light me up, Mia thought. He didn’t make her feel like she was plugged into an electrical outlet. He didn’t make her long for lazy Sundays in bed, for impulsive sex in inconvenient moments. She’d never looked across the table at him and thought “Damn it all, I’ve got to have you right friggin’ now.” There was no urgency, no ultimate immediacy, no flare.

  In short, sadly, he didn’t make her glow.

  Unfortunately the only guy who’d ever done that was the one sitting next to her. And he had “temporary” stamped in invisible ink all over him. Holding on to Tanner would be like trying to hold on to air—impossible.

  She sighed heavily, but not for the reason he would think. “But…we didn’t have that special spark,” she finally said. “We clicked, but could never quite fit the pieces together the way they were supposed to go.”

  He inclined his head, but didn’t offer comment. His gaze shifted to the rearview mirror and he swore.

  “What?” Mia asked, instantly on alert.

  “I know that I am poor substitute for Harlan,” he said, his lips twisting with bitter humor. “But you didn’t mind kissing me too much, did you?”

  “No,” she admitted suspiciously. “Why?”

  “Because Ackerman is following us. If I can’t shake him, we’re probably going to have to give him an encore performance.”

  She gulped and the tops of her thighs burned. “All the way to Dallas?”

  “Quite possibly.” He didn’t look broken up about it at all. In fact, gratifyingly, he looked quite keen on the idea.

  She heaved a put-upon sigh, even while that damned wicked thrill whipped her insides into a froth of sexual delight. “Well, I suppose I have to go along with it now,” she told him grudgingly. “We’ve already set the stage, so to speak.”

  And her libido, dammit, was fully on cue.

  5

  THIS WAS THE PART HE loved the most, he thought. The thrill of a new mystery, a potentially worthy adversary. After all, anything worth having was worth fighting for. Who was the man Mia had left with? he wondered. What was his part in all of this? Was he the boyfriend? No, definitely not. The man his source had described didn’t remotely resemble Professor Harlan Carmichael. His source had yet to uncover the name for the new man, but when he got it, he would have his answers. It was amazing what one could find on the Internet these days.

  Furthermore, the presence of a backpack, one the man seemed quite protective of, offered a myriad of new possibilities.

  Best not to get too far ahead of himself, he thought. He would be patient and await further information. Acting rashly, no matter how tempting
it might be, could end in disaster.

  But he was watching….

  “IS THIS REALLY NECESSARY?” Mia hissed later that evening as Tanner handed his company credit card over to the hotel clerk. “We have to stay in the same room?”

  Tanner had anticipated the shared accommodation to be an issue, but he wasn’t willing to compromise the job because of her need for privacy. She was going to simply think he was opportunistic and, though he was willing to admit keeping her close was a certain perk, ultimately it wouldn’t have mattered if she’d been the denture clicker he’d originally envisioned. This was how it had to be. The end.

  “I got a double. You’ll have your own bed.”

  “But—”

  Tanner straightened and turned to face her, casually assessing the room around them. He’d chosen this particular brand of hotel because it was the easiest to monitor and offered the most expedient escape route should they need it. It was one time when cookie-cutter architecture was actually good. Their subsequent rooms were prebooked, as well. “Here’s the deal, Mia,” he said. “I’m not letting Moe Dick leave my sight and you aren’t willing to let him leave yours, are you?”

  She shook her head, obviously realizing that whatever argument she was about to launch was useless. “No, of course not.”

  “Then this is the only way we’re both going to be satisfied.”

  Satisfied? Poor choice of words, he thought, his lips twisting with weary humor. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he was deep in the sweet hot channel between her sweet thighs, eradicating Harlan’s Super Lover status from her stubborn, clearly misinformed little brain. Either she’d forgotten how competitive he was or she hadn’t, and was purposely torturing him.

  Either way, he still wanted her.

  And to think, just yesterday morning he’d told his new employers that there wouldn’t be any possibility that he could impregnate Mia. The backpack suddenly felt heavier on his shoulders at the thought. But even with the best intentions, he should have known better.