Two on the Run (Harlequin Super Romance)

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Two on the Run (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 7

by Watson, Margaret


  When she moved again, needing to feel him closer, where all the pulsing tension centered, he groaned against her chest. His warm breath caressed her skin, making her shiver.

  “Ellie,” he whispered. “What are you doing to me?”

  His hand stopped moving abruptly, and she felt him stiffen against her. “What the hell am I doing to you?”

  He slid away from her awkwardly, backing off until he sat leaning against the wall. Scrubbing his face with his hands, he looked down at the bed, at the door of the room, then at the wall. Everywhere but at her.

  “My God, I’m sorry,” he said, and she heard the appalled shock in his voice. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

  “So you said last night,” she replied, pulling the dingy bedspread up to her shoulders.

  “Last night I wasn’t capable of anything but sleep. Apparently this morning I’m feeling a whole lot better.” He scowled, finally looking at her. “But that’s no excuse. I never meant to touch you. And I promise you it won’t happen again.”

  “Fine,” she said, hot with humiliation. “I’ll try to restrain my impulses to throw myself at you, too.”

  For just a moment desire flashed in his eyes. Then he leaned back against the wall. “No need to be sarcastic, Slim. I’m glad we understand each other.”

  “I am, too.” She pushed herself off the bed, clutching the bedspread and wrapping it around her. “Now turn around so I can get dressed.”

  “I won’t peek.” He turned away. “Even though you peeked last night.” His voice was a low, sexy drawl that seemed to wrap around her nerves like heavy velvet.

  “Last night I was afraid you would fall and hurt yourself,” she retorted hotly. “I should have just let you collapse and lie on the floor all night.”

  “Just what I would have expected you to say. That’s one of the things I like about you. You’re so predictable.” One corner of his mouth curled up, but he kept his head turned away.

  She threw the tangled bedspread onto the floor and pulled on her clothes, seething with anger. How did he know so much about her after only a few hours? And worse, why did it bother her so much?

  Because she knew he was merely flirting, she told herself, fighting back the tears. In spite of what had just passed between them, he was the same charming, cocky man he’d been yesterday, and it hurt to realize it. It hurt to realize that when he said he hadn’t meant to touch her, it had been no more than the truth.

  As if he could read her thoughts, he murmured, “I really am sorry that happened.” There was no hint of laughter in his voice now. “And don’t go thinking it means something that it doesn’t. I’m not the kind of guy you’re used to, Ellie. I’m not a dependable, solid, white picket fence, forever kind of guy. I’m ‘good times’ Reilly. I’ll break your heart if you give me half a chance.”

  “There’s no danger of that,” she answered coolly. “Because you’re not my type, either.”

  It was ludicrous to pretend she even had a type. But she had no intention of telling him that. She’d suffered enough humiliation for one morning.

  “I’m glad we have that straightened out.” He spoke from behind her, and she whirled to find that he was too close to her. Her throat swelled and she wanted to back away. But she forced herself to look him in the eye.

  “Me, too. I believe in laying my cards on the table.”

  His face softened as he looked at her, and she could almost imagine she saw regret in his eyes. Almost.

  “I’ve noticed that, Slim. It’s one of the first things I noticed about you.”

  Now wasn’t that special? She scowled as she yanked his jeans off the chair and practically threw them at him. Most men noticed the way a woman looked. He’d noticed her opinionated, bossy personality.

  She grabbed his shirt and held it out to him, but realized it was hard with his blood. Holding the shirt in her hands, staring down at the stiff fabric, made her forget about what had just happened between them. All the events of the night came crashing back.

  “Aren’t you going to give me my shirt?” he asked.

  “You can’t wear this.” She turned to face him, the shirt clenched in her hands. “Do you have another one in your backpack?”

  “Nope. I didn’t exactly have time to pack a suitcase.” He reached for the shirt. “This one will have to do.”

  “No.” She moved it away from him. “They’ll be looking for someone with blood on his shirt.”

  “And I won’t stand out if I’m walking around bare-chested?”

  “Don’t be an idiot.” She tossed the shirt on the bed. “I’m going back to that convenience store. I think they had a bin full of cheap shirts.”

  “No, Ellie. Don’t.”

  “Why not? Are you afraid I’ll turn you in?”

  “Of course not,” he said impatiently.

  “Then why don’t you want me to go? The store’s right down the street—it’ll only take a couple of minutes.”

  He looked away from her. “I don’t want you out there alone,” he said. “The city is going to be swarming with cops looking for both of us. Letting you walk the streets alone would be like letting a lamb stroll into a wolf’s den.”

  “It would be more dangerous for you to go out there in that shirt,” she pointed out.

  “But at least I’d be with you.” He scowled at her. “You have no idea what these guys are capable of.”

  “Yes, I do,” she said gently. “I cleaned your wound last night.”

  Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed her purse and headed for the door. “I’ll be right back.”

  Her false bravado slipped as she eased the door shut behind her. She leaned against the wall, almost sick with fear, picturing a bullet tearing into her flesh. Then she straightened her shoulders and reached for the rickety handrail.

  She had no choice. Michael needed her help. If they were ever going to make it out of town, she would have to face whatever waited for her on the dangerous streets of Midland.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ELLIE’S FOOTSTEPS RECEDED as she headed down the stairs, and Michael strained to listen until the sound faded into an uneasy silence. Trying to ignore his worry, he eased himself back onto the bed.

  The wound in his back didn’t burn as it had the night before. Now it throbbed with a relentless dull, aching pain. The tape Ellie had applied pulled at his skin, making it itch, but he welcomed the distraction. That was better than focusing on the pain.

  What was she doing now? She’d walked out the door without a qualm, with no idea how dangerous it was out there, he thought savagely. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what his enemies could do.

  Maybe she could, a small voice reminded him. After all, he had treated her pretty brutally last night. He’d manhandled her, kidnapped her, forced her into an unlit building when he knew she was terrified of the dark. He’d snatched away all control over her life.

  A wave of regret swept through him, so intense that it shocked him. He wished he’d met her under other circumstances. He wished he’d met her when he wasn’t running for his life—and when she wasn’t his unwilling hostage.

  It didn’t matter, he told himself. He and Ellie were all wrong. She was precisely the kind of woman he avoided. A person only had to look at her to know she was a forever-after type of woman—and he wasn’t a forever-after type of man.

  But it sure hadn’t felt wrong this morning. His body stirred as he remembered waking up with Ellie in his arms. Her sweet curves had fitted against him perfectly, pressing into him with an innocence that was far more arousing than experience had ever been.

  “Get your mind out of the gutter,” he muttered to himself, deliberately squashing the desire that leaped to life inside him. He pulled himself upright, swaying as he stood. The muscles of his back cramped painfully, but he forced himself to stay on his feet. The pain focused his attention on what was important. He had to be able to walk if he was going to get Ellie out of Midland.

  And get h
er out he would. Nothing would stop him, he vowed. He’d make sure she was safe before he delivered his information to the FBI. It was the least he could do.

  But where to take her? She’d said she had no relatives, and she didn’t want to involve her friends. So it was up to him to find a safe haven for her.

  There was only one person he would trust with her safety. Pulling out his cell phone, he pressed a button and listened to the phone ring.

  After a terse conversation, he snapped the phone closed and began to hobble painfully around the tiny room. He braced one hand on the wall as he shuffled one foot in front of the other. His back screamed in protest, but he ignored it. He made himself concentrate on walking.

  When his muscles loosened and he felt steadier on his feet, he glanced at his watch and realized that more than twenty minutes had passed. A cold river of fear washed over him, erasing everything else from his mind. What had happened? The store was only a couple of minutes away from the hotel. Had Ellie gotten lost? His gut tightened into a knot. Or had the police found her?

  He slung the backpack over his shoulders and stumbled toward the door. Just as he wrenched it open, she appeared at the top of the stairs. Her hair was falling out of its bun and her lips were pressed tightly together, but she was back.

  He wanted to snatch her into his arms and hold her until his heart slowed. He wanted to touch her, to make sure she was unharmed. Hell, he wanted to kiss her, to reassure himself that she was actually there with him.

  “Where the hell have you been?” he barked.

  Her head shot up and she gave him a look that could have blistered paint. “I stopped to read the newspaper and have a cappuccino. It took a while to find one, since this isn’t exactly a Starbucks kind of neighborhood,” she snapped back.

  He relaxed against the wall. “And here I was imagining that you’d been kidnapped or something,” he drawled.

  The sparks disappeared from her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I should have known you’d be worried.”

  “What happened?” He forced himself to keep his arms folded across his chest. He ached to reach for her and pull her close. The thought scared him almost as much as his earlier worries.

  She sighed and walked into the room. He closed the door and turned to face her.

  “I saw two police cars,” she said, setting a bag down on the chair. “The first one was cruising by just as I walked out of the hotel. I jumped back in the door.” Her forehead creased with worry. “I don’t think they saw me.”

  “Then what?”

  “I waited for about five minutes and didn’t see them again. So I headed to the convenience store. I was about halfway there when I saw another police car.”

  “Are you sure it wasn’t the same one?” Urgency punched into his chest and his heart speeded up.

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t really paying attention to what the officers looked like.”

  “Officers? How many were in the car?”

  “Two.”

  “In both cars?”

  “Yes. They both had two people in the front seat.” She frowned. “But only one wore a uniform.”

  He swore under his breath. “What did you do when you saw the second one?”

  She pushed her glasses up her nose. “I kept my head down, as if I was looking for something. Before I left the hotel I picked up a big bag that someone had left in the lobby. I filled it with crumpled newspapers and slung it over my shoulder. I figured that would make it harder to see my face.” She struggled to smile at him. “With the way I looked, I was pretty sure I could pass for a homeless person.”

  He shook his head, amazed. “Ellie, you are something else. Where did you learn a trick like that?”

  Before she could answer, he held up one hand. “No, don’t tell me. You read it in a book, right?”

  “Right,” she said triumphantly. “And it worked, too. The squad car never even slowed down when it passed me.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then I stayed in the store for as long as I could without making the clerk suspicious. I pretended I couldn’t make up my mind about the shirt.” She blushed and added, “I also picked up a few other items I thought we could use.”

  “Did you see anyone on your way back?”

  She shook her head. “Just a couple of cars. But they weren’t police cars.”

  He hoped. They’d have unmarked cars looking for him, too. But he didn’t want to burst her bubble by telling her that. “Okay, let’s get out of here. If they spotted you coming out of this hotel, we don’t have long.”

  Her face paled. “Do you really think they might have recognized me?”

  He shrugged as he struggled into the blue chambray work shirt she handed him. “Hard to tell. But we better assume they did. That’s better than hanging around waiting for an ugly surprise.”

  “Okay, let’s go.” She grabbed the bag, which wasn’t empty, and turned toward the door, but he gave into temptation and took her arm.

  “In a minute. First grab the garbage out of the trash can. We don’t want to leave any evidence behind.” For the space of a heartbeat he allowed his hand to linger on her arm. Her skin was warm and smooth, her muscles tense beneath his fingers. He tightened his grip and began to pull her toward him, then abruptly let her go. This was the wrong time and definitely the wrong woman.

  She paused and stared at him for a moment, her eyes wide. The fear had retreated, replaced by a glimmer of awareness that made him jam his hands into his pockets. He was too close to grabbing her, too close to pulling her into his arms and just holding on.

  “Come on, Ellie,” he said, his voice deliberately harsh. “We don’t have all day.”

  “You need to button your shirt,” she finally said, her gaze fixed on his chest.

  He looked down and swore again. What the hell was the matter with him? Was he so distracted by her that he couldn’t even remember how to dress?

  His fingers fumbled with the buttons, but she pushed his hands away. “I’m sure your back is sore,” she said. “Let me do it.”

  She didn’t meet his gaze while her fingers brushed over his chest. They shook slightly as they pushed the buttons through the holes, but he forced himself to look away. Finally she was finished.

  “You’re respectable again,” she said, forcing herself to smile.

  “Not possible,” he said, his tone harsh. “And you’d be smart to remember that.”

  A steely look replaced her smile. “Don’t worry. It’s not the kind of thing I’m likely to forget.”

  “Good,” he muttered, wrenching the door open. He would be absolutely nuts to get involved with Eleanor Perkins, he told himself. Even if they weren’t running for their lives. She was exactly the kind of women he’d spent his life running away from.

  But he watched her walk out the room in front of him, and his hands ached to touch her. His body ached to feel her wrapped around him again. And all he could think about was the way her skin had tasted, sweet and fresh and innocent.

  He scowled and pulled the door shut behind him with a little too much force. Far too innocent for a man like him.

  She headed down the stairs without hesitating. But before they reached the lobby, she stopped and looked at him. Uncertainty filled her face. “What now?” she whispered.

  The desk clerk was writing in a notebook, his face furrowed with concentration. “We just walk out,” Michael whispered back. A devil inside him prompted him to add, “If he looks up, act like we’ve just shared a night of unbridled passion.”

  Her face turned red, and he could see a sharp retort hovering on her lips. But she glanced at the clerk again and pressed her lips together. Michael was vaguely disappointed that she’d restrained herself from giving him the quick comeback she clearly wanted to throw at him.

  Her head held high, she swept toward the door. He wanted to call her back and remind her that few prostitutes had attitude like that, but instead he followed her outside.

  On
ce on the street, he forced himself to concentrate on their surroundings. A couple of homeless men trudged down the sidewalk and a few cars sped past. But otherwise the neighborhood was deserted. No one wanted to spend any time in this area.

  “What are we going to do now?” Ellie asked quietly.

  “Keep walking while I figure it out,” he muttered.

  She shot him an assessing look. “You still don’t have a plan?”

  “I told you, I’m a seat-of-the-pants kind of guy. We’ll play it by ear.”

  “I hope you’re not hard of hearing,” she said under her breath.

  “That’s good, Ellie. That’s very good.” He grasped her arm and steered her toward an alley. “I’m impressed you can come up with smart answers this early in the morning.” He glanced down at her and forced himself to give her a grin. “I had you pegged as a night owl.”

  But instead of the retort he expected, she watched him with warmth in her eyes. “You don’t have to try and distract me,” she murmured. “I’m not stupid. I know how dangerous this is.”

  He stopped abruptly and pulled her around to face him. “You just keep on surprising me,” he finally said. When she looked up at him, her eyes wide, his chest contracted. Her safety was in his hands, and he prayed he was up to the task. “I’ll get you out of here. I promise,” he said as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She’d pulled it into a sloppy bun on the top of her head, but it was already falling down her back.

  “I believe you,” she answered. Their gazes met and locked, and as she stared at him, he saw absolute faith reflected in her eyes. The knowledge shook him to his core. He vowed that her faith in him wouldn’t be misplaced.

  “All right, this is what we’ll do,” he said rapidly, to cover the erratic thumping of his heart. “We’re going to steal a car. We’ll get out of Midland as fast as possible, then we’ll figure out the next step.”

  “All right.”

  As easily as that, she placed her life in his hands. Humbled, he said, “Let’s go.”

  They hurried down the alley, but before they reached the other end, he saw a glint of metal at the mouth of the lane, and Michael pulled her into the shadow of another rickety garage.

 

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