She didn’t want to ask, but she had to know. “What about your partner and the other officer? What if they waited to see what you would do? Maybe the police already know about this car.”
He didn’t answer right away. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” he finally said.
His voice was steady, but she heard the pain beneath his words. She scrambled to find something to say to comfort him. “I don’t think we need to worry about it. If your partner was involved, he wouldn’t have let you go, would he?”
Michael shook his head slowly and stared out the window. “He might have. The other guy in the car is a rookie and we’re supposed to be training him. If Sam is dirty he wouldn’t have wanted Hobart to know. So maybe that was why he let us go.”
“So you’re not counting on his being one of the good guys?” she asked in a quiet voice. “In fact, you’re not sure we’re going to get out of town safely.”
He shifted in his seat to look at her, and she saw despair in his gaze. “I’m not sure of anything right now,” he answered.
“Poor Michael,” she whispered. They were approaching the outskirts of town and she stepped a little harder on the gas pedal. “Is there anyone you can trust?”
“I trust the man you’re going to stay with.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.
“Don’t be. That’s the way I like it.” His voice was hard and cold and his face looked as if it had been carved out of stone.
“That’s no way to live,” she protested.
“It’s the only way to live,” he retorted. “You’ll never be disappointed.”
She sneaked a quick look at him and saw the grim determination on his face. She was out of her depths, she realized with a spurt of fear.
The smart thing to do was stay at his friend’s house. Maybe Michael was right. Maybe she shouldn’t pay so much attention to the books she read. Maybe there wasn’t always a happy ending. Her face flamed as she remembered the scene in the squalid hotel room that morning. She’d woken up wrapped around him like a vine on a tree.
She shook her head and pressed just a little harder on the accelerator. The last few straggling houses of Midland flashed past the car window, and a few moments later they were surrounded by fields of corn and soybeans. Almost safe.
“Are there any cars behind us?” Michael asked, interrupting her thoughts. He continued to slump in the passenger seat, out of the sight of passing drivers.
She glanced in the rearview mirror. “A few. No police cars, though.”
“They wouldn’t be that stupid,” he said. “Any cars that have been following us for a while?”
“I don’t know.” She glanced in the mirror again. “I haven’t been paying attention.”
A wave of guilt swept through her. She’d been wrapped up in her own thoughts, feeling sorry for herself, when she should have been watching for cars tailing them. “There are four cars back there now,” she said, glancing into the mirror again. “There’s a minivan right behind us. Then there’s an SUV, then a couple of sedans.”
“Keep an eye on them.” He shifted on the seat, his movements stiff and jerky. Another wave of guilt crashed over her.
“I forgot about your back. Does it hurt?”
“It’s not important,” he said, moving restlessly. “Getting you safely to Charles is all that matters.”
They drove for several minutes in silence. The four vehicles were still behind them. She slowed the car, hoping that the others would pass them, but all the vehicles maintained their distance.
She stared in the rearview mirror. “Why won’t they pass us?” she muttered to herself.
“What are you doing?” he asked, raising his head to glare at her.
“I’m slowing down so they’ll try to pass us.”
“Damn it!” he yelped. “Do you have a death wish?”
“Of course not. I’m simply trying to gather information.”
“Stop trying to do my job,” he snapped. “Pay attention to your driving and let me figure out what to do next.”
“Oh, like you’ve done such a great job of that.”
“I got us out of Midland, didn’t I?”
“And there are four cars following us. Don’t you want to know if any of them belong to the police?”
“Hell, no, I don’t want to know if the police are behind us,” Michael growled. “At least not right now. We’re too exposed on this road. There’s nowhere to turn and nowhere to hide. Unless you count the cornfields.”
There was a long moment of silence. Then she said in a small voice, “I’m sorry. You’re right. I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
He gave her a tiny, weary grin. “I guess I’m good for something, then.”
Memories of the two of them tangled together that morning flashed through her mind. Gritting her teeth, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the road, she tried to banish the images. She had no intention of going down that road again.
“I guess you earn your keep,” she managed to say. She was surprised at how light the words sounded.
“We’re almost at Auburn,” he said after a moment. “We’ll try a few things there to see if any of those drivers are interested in us.”
“All right.” She looked in the mirror again, but none of the vehicles had turned off the road. All of them maintained their distance from each other. Of course, as Michael had pointed out, there was nowhere else to go on this road. The two-lane highway passed nothing more than an endless stream of fields and the occasional farmhouse. The roads that intersected led farther off the beaten path.
Just like Michael and Eleanor, the other vehicles were clearly headed for the next town.
OUT OF THE CORNER of his eye, Michael watched Ellie drive. She frowned in concentration, her forehead wrinkling every time she glanced in the rearview mirror. And she looked in the mirror a lot. Clearly, she was planning something.
A surge of tenderness welled up inside him, surprising him with its intensity. He forced himself to look away. He couldn’t afford any damn distractions, not with half the Midland police force after them. And he certainly couldn’t afford any tenderness when it came to Ellie. When they got to Charles’s house in Pinckney, he was leaving her behind. It was the only sensible thing to do, and it was about time he did something sensible.
But the truth was he wanted her with him. He wanted it with an intensity that both shocked and alarmed him. He’d known Ellie for less than twenty-four hours. How could she have become so important to him in that short span of time?
He didn’t know how it had happened. But looking out for Ellie’s safety was now almost as important as his original mission. And that was not acceptable.
He would allow nothing to distract him from his job. He owed it to the citizens of Midland. He owed it to all the decent, honest police officers in the city who did their jobs and didn’t take dirty money.
And he owed it to Montero, who wouldn’t get to see his son grow up, after all.
“We’re almost at Auburn,” he said abruptly. “There’s a fast-food restaurant a few blocks into town. Pull into the drive-thru. That will give us a chance to see what they do.”
“All right.”
Ellie sounded subdued. He wasn’t sure he’d ever heard her sound subdued before. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” She looked at him. “Why do you ask?”
He didn’t care for the cautious, guarded woman who stared back at him. “You haven’t tried to argue with me for at least fifteen minutes. I’m afraid you’re getting sick or something.”
Light flared briefly in her eyes, then she looked back at the road. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice carefully neutral.
He watched her, trying to analyze what was bothering her. He hardly noticed when they reached the tiny town of Auburn. Houses and small stores flashing past the car snapped him back to attention.
“Here’s the resta
urant,” he said, pointing toward a lighted sign. “Let’s see what happens.”
She slowed down and steered the car into the drivethru lane. Then she stared out the window with him, waiting to see what the other vehicles would do.
One by one, they drove past the restaurant. None of them turned in, and none slowed down. Closing his eyes, Michael said a prayer of thanks. Grabbing the backpack, he pulled out the money he’d hidden there in case of an emergency. “Let’s eat.”
Fifteen minutes later they were back on the road, sipping cups of coffee as they drove through the town of Auburn. Ellie’s hands relaxed on the steering wheel. Her hair had come completely loose from her bun and trailed down her back like thick skeins of silk. And her mouth was pursed in concentration.
He wanted to move closer, he realized. He wanted to touch her skin again, to see if it was really as smooth as he remembered.
As he watched, mesmerized by his building fantasy of Ellie in his arms, her knuckles turned white on the steering wheel and she whipped her head around to watch an auto repair garage fly past.
“What?” he asked, jolted out of his reverie, turning in his seat to look behind him.
“It’s probably nothing,” she said, gazing again into the rearview mirror. “But one of the cars in the parking lot of that garage looked a lot like one of the cars that was following us out of Midland.”
He muttered a harsh curse as the garage disappeared into the distance. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure it looked like one of the cars behind us. I’m not sure it’s the same car.”
“Keep going,” he said, watching the road behind them. The air in the car became thick and stifling as he stared out the back window. Ellie held herself stiffly as she drove.
Finally, after at least five minutes, he turned around in his seat. “They didn’t follow us,” he said.
“Are you sure?” She looked in the mirror again, worry plainly etched on her face.
“I’m sure. There’s not a car or a truck behind us, and the road is pretty straight right here. I’d see them if they were there.”
“Okay.”
She swallowed once, and he caught himself watching the ripple of muscle in her neck, wondering how it would feel against his mouth. Muttering a curse under his breath, he tore his gaze away before he could make a fool of himself.
“We’re going to Pinckney,” he said, his voice too harsh. “It’s another eighty miles or so. Do you want me to drive for a while?”
She frowned at him. “Of course not. You need to rest your back. You’re going to be doing plenty of driving today after you get rid of me.”
Her words hit him like a blow to the gut. “I’m not ‘getting rid of’ you,” he said, louder than necessary. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“That’s what I meant.”
She gave him an innocent look that made his chest flutter. A reluctant, appreciative half smile touched his mouth. His Ellie was quick.
And she wasn’t his Ellie. Scowling, he swiveled and looked out the window. She wasn’t his anything. As soon as they got to Pinckney, she’d be out of his life. In a few weeks, when he looked back on the last twenty-four hours, he’d have trouble even remembering what she looked like.
Like hell he would.
The sloppy bun that barely managed to contain her rich chestnut hair, the soft blue-gray of her eyes, the sleek, satiny smoothness of her skin, all would stay with him for a long, long time. Not to mention that triumphant look she got in her eyes when she man aged to best him. No, he wouldn’t be forgetting Eleanor Perkins anytime soon.
It was only because he’d taken her hostage, he tried to convince himself. You don’t forget a woman you’ve kidnapped at gunpoint. He didn’t need Ellie. He didn’t need anyone, especially not an annoying woman who had managed to get under his skin almost as soon as he’d met her.
He especially didn’t need a woman who had felt so right curled into him when he woke up this morning. No, the fact that Ellie felt as if she’d been made for him, as if she was the missing piece of a puzzle that had finally found its home, didn’t mean a thing. It was nothing but nerves and adrenaline.
He was sure Ellie would say the same thing if he asked her.
Which he didn’t intend to do.
“Tell me about the man you’re taking me to.” She interrupted his thoughts, and he was grateful for the distraction.
“His name is Charles Wilson. Betty is his wife.”
“Are they relatives of yours?” she asked, her voice polite and distant.
He hated that distance. She was talking to him as if he was a complete stranger with whom she was making polite conversation. He wanted to grab her and shake her.
“Are Charles and Betty Wilson your relatives?” she repeated.
“No,” he said, his voice short. “They’re friends.”
“I see.”
The polite, artificial tone of voice was one she would use at a cocktail party, to discourage some bore who was telling her the story of his life.
Michael’s temper rose. Struggling to subdue the feelings she roused in him, he turned to face her. “I don’t think you do. You know I don’t trust many people.”
“So you told me,” she murmured.
“I couldn’t afford to trust anyone. When I was growing up…” He swallowed once and turned to look out the window, appalled at what he’d almost revealed. He never told anyone about his childhood.
“Charles and I go way back,” he finally said. “He’ll keep you safe.”
She darted a glance at him, her eyes cool and distant. “I never doubted that I’d be safe. I trust you, Michael.”
The subtle rebuke was like a slap in the face. “Damn it, Ellie, I trust you, too.”
“Right. And that’s why you’re dumping me at your friend’s house.”
“That’s not a matter of trust. It’s a matter of life and death.” His raised voice filled the car.
“Maybe I don’t want to be kept safe,” she said. “Maybe I don’t want to be protected and coddled. Maybe I want to help you.”
As if she realized too late what she had said, her eyes widened and she bit her lip, then stared fixedly out the windshield. A hint of red swept up her neck into her cheeks. Ellie wasn’t used to blurting out her feelings without thinking.
Unleashing her wild side was apparently another sin she could lay at his feet.
He wanted to yell at her, to tell her it was more important to save her life. That he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if she got hurt because of him. But he bit his tongue and tried to steady himself.
“I appreciate the thought, but you have to see how dangerous that would be. You could get killed.”
“Just like I could have gotten killed last night when a man with a gun kidnapped me,” she retorted.
“I’m not discussing this, Ellie. You’re staying with Charles. End of discussion.”
“Fine,” she said stiffly. “You can drop me off there.”
“And you’re going to stay there until it’s safe to leave.”
She glared at him, but he thought her eyes looked bruised and hurt beneath the temper. “Once you drop me off you have no control over what I do. I’ll stay there if I please. And I’ll leave if I want to.”
He swiped a hand through his hair. “If I had known you would be such a pain in the ass I would have run right past the library last night.”
“I guess it’s too bad for both of us, then, that you stopped when you did.”
He waited through a beat of silence. Then he sighed.
“I’m sorry, Ellie. I didn’t mean that and you know it. I was damn lucky when I picked you last night. I wouldn’t have made it this far without your help.”
“So how are you going to make it farther by yourself?”
He started to grin. He couldn’t help himself. He should have expected her to pounce on the first sign of weakness from him. “That’s good,” he said. “I knew you were quick. But the answer is s
till no.”
“You’ll be sorry.”
“Probably,” he said. And he realized that he would be sorry to see the last of Ellie. Way too sorry. “But I’m not going to be selfish,” he said, trying to sound noble. “Your safety is more important than my happiness.”
Her lips quivered as she tried to suppress a grin. “Nice recovery, Reilly. But I don’t believe for a second that you’re into self-sacrifice.”
She was wrong, he realized with a hint of panic. He would sacrifice a lot for her. Much more than he was willing to think about. And far more than he could afford.
“I need to get some sleep,” he said abruptly. “Wake me up if you see anything that doesn’t look right.”
“Fine,” she answered, her voice cool again.
He had no intention of sleeping. But he needed to put some distance between them. He was flying far too close to the flames.
He sank down into the lumpy seat and turned his head away, pretending to sleep. The side mirror hung from the car at a crazy angle, and he stared into it. Ellie couldn’t see a damn thing out of it, but it was perfectly placed for him to keep an eye on the road behind them.
While he watched, he counted the miles until they reached Pinckney. Charles would know what to do. He might be able to make Ellie see reason.
God knows he’d had plenty of practice dealing with stubborn hotheads when Michael was growing up. If Charles Wilson could handle a young Michael, he should be able to cope with Ellie Perkins.
And Michael knew Ellie would fiercely resist if she thought anyone was managing her.
He smothered a small grin. Maybe he was figuring out how to handle Ellie all by himself.
CHAPTER NINE
THE WHEELS OF THE CAR hummed monotonously against the pavement as mile after mile of corn and soybeans flashed past the window. Ellie shifted on the seat and glanced at Michael one more time. He appeared to be asleep, slumped against the back of the seat.
It was just as well, she told herself. He needed rest to allow his back to heal. And she needed time to compose herself before she faced him again.
She couldn’t believe she had told him she wanted to go with him and help him. It had to be the dumbest thing she’d ever done in her life. She should be thanking God he was willing to drop her off in Pinckney.
Two on the Run (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 10