He could see now that things were even worse than he’d thought on the flight up here, and even then irritation had simmered like red heat at the edges of his mind. Forget the indignity of being drafted to do busywork and play delivery boy—he’d been sent here to be a bloody baby-sitter. He hadn’t felt such an urge to shoot a particular U.S. general in a long time.
“How do you know my uncle?” she demanded.
“Fate,” he retorted, his tone and smile acerbic. “Mismatched karma, to use your words. Bottom line...I know him because I’m cursed. So are you, it would seem.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, lady, that we’ve got a big problem here.”
Catrina Amelia Bandini regarded him as she might any madman who stopped her on the street to ask for a quarter or for directions to Venus. “How can we have a problem? I don’t even know you.”
“You’re about to get to know me in a hurry,” he said, a cynical curve to his lips. “Like it or not. My name’s Hunter. Bolton Hunter.”
Bolton Hunter. Cat ran the name through her mind a second time as she automatically reached to shake the hand he offered her. His grip was, not surprisingly, firm and strong. Bolton Hunter. It wasn’t a common name, and it took her only a moment to recall where she’d heard it recently.
It had been during her phone call to her uncle the night before last. Hunter was the name of the man he’d been playing chess with when she’d phoned to tell him about this trip. The question was, what was he doing here, carrying a duffel bag and glaring at her as if she was the fly in his own personal jar of ointment?
It was testimony to her close relationship with her uncle that it took Cat far less than a moment to come up with the answer to that question. First she shuddered. Then she saw red.
“So tell me,” she said, leaning against the car, her arms folded across her chest in a very misleading suggestion of calmness, “of all the parking lots in all the cities in all the world, what brings you to this one?”
He eyed her darkly. “Do you really need to ask?”
“No, I think I can guess. Uncle Hank asked you to come here and tag along with me for my own protection. Right?”
“You’re warm. As I recall there was precious little asking involved in my being here.”
“Of course,” she countered with a disgusted shake of her head. “Giving orders comes so much more naturally to my uncle.”
“So, it seems, does the sin of omission. The general didn’t say anything about your being part of the deal.”
“What are you talking about?” She waved her hand impatiently at the car beside them. “This is my deal.”
“Not anymore...at least, not this end of it. Your uncle asked me to come up here and drive the car back to Florida so that you wouldn’t have to. And that’s what I plan to do.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. My uncle doesn’t have any say in the matter.”
“Tell him that. I’m just the delivery man.”
“Oh, really? And while you’re busy driving the car I was hired to drive, just what am I supposed to do?”
“Fly home,” he suggested, lifting his duffel bag and tossing it along with his jacket into the backseat of the Chevy. “Relax, sit back and collect your fee for work I’ll be doing.”
Cat wasn’t sure whether to scream or laugh. She settled for a frustrated groan somewhere between.
Hunter’s expression of grim determination didn’t waver as he said, “My sentiments exactly.”
“So you’re not particularly thrilled to be doing this?”
“Oh, I am, I am,” he retorted, his short laugh lacking the smallest measure of amusement. Cat followed as he moved to the back of the car and crouched down to check out the rear tires. “Hell, I don’t believe I’ve looked forward to anything this much since boot camp.”
“Then why are you here?”
With one booted foot he kicked the left rear tire a lot harder than she thought necessary. “It’s my job, lady.”
“Wrong,” she snapped. “This is my job.”
“Like I said, not anymore.”
“Why?” she demanded, rolling her eyes. “Are you a charter member of the chauffeur division of Volunteers in Action?”
He shot her a quelling glance. “Not quite. But I am on the payroll at Hollister Associates and, as the general made abundantly clear to me, this is all part of the job. Part of keeping it, anyway,” he added under his breath as he bent and tightened an air valve cap.
The lethal feelings that had been stirring inside her flared higher. “Are you telling me that Uncle Hank threatened to fire you unless you did this?”
“Threaten is a little harsh,” he said, moving to check the front tires. “Promised, was more like it.”
“And you believed him?” Cat scoffed, following along. “Trust me, I speak from experience when I say the man is ninety percent bluster.”
He swung his gaze around to her, staring for so long that Cat was tempted to pull off his sunglasses so she could see what was going on behind them.
“Maybe,” he said finally. “But since I don’t happen to be his precious niece and all my experience has been with the other ten percent of the man, I think I’ll just go on playing it safe.”
Cat bristled. “Look, Hunter, I didn’t ask him to send you here to interfere with my life...exactly the opposite, in fact. I warned him to stay out of this.”
“Fine. You warned him and he ignored you. Your family squabbles don’t concern me. All I know is I’m here because this is what the general wants. I like my job...most of the time, anyway, and I’m good at it and I’m not taking any chances on screwing things up.”
“You don’t have to,” she assured him, watching as he felt inside the front grille and released the hood. He removed his sunglasses and dropped them in the pocket of his clean white T-shirt before leaning over the engine and removing the oil stick. “I’ll handle everything,” she assured him.
Without straightening he slowly shifted his gaze from the engine to her face.
“Just how do you plan to do that?” he inquired.
“You go on home and I’ll call Uncle Hank and tell him I was the one who sent you away.”
He quickly shoved the oil gauge back into place, slammed the hood shut and straightened to face her with his arms folded across his chest. He looked fierce. It wasn’t hard for Cat to believe he’d served under her uncle. The short hair, straight-arrow posture and willingness to follow orders he didn’t like all added up to one thing. Military madness. Bolton Hunter was clearly the type. And to think that only a few moments ago she had thought him sweetly romantic. And sexy.
She ran her gaze over him quickly. She had to admit, he was still sort of sexy.
“Smile,” she urged, smiling herself. “You’re off the hook.”
“Let me see if I’ve got this straight. You’re going to call the general and tell him that you sent me away and that’s supposed to take care of everything?”
“Yes. Of course I’ll also explain—for the umpteenth time, I might add—that I know what I’m doing and that he doesn’t have to worry about me.”
“Forget it.”
“Why?”
“For starters, forget the fact that you’re still practically a kid, without enough sense in your pretty little head not to go telling your name to a stranger who approaches you in a parking lot in a lousy section of town. Looking the way you do and dressed the way you are, I’d say there’s plenty to worry about with you taking off alone in a car.”
“My pretty little head?” Cat repeated in outraged disbelief. “Of all the stupid, condescending—”
“Let me finish,” he broke in. “Forgetting all that, which really isn’t my problem, if I showed up back at the office with a lame excuse about letting a woman...no, a girl, send me packing, I’d fire my butt before the general had a chance to.”
“I can see why you like working for my uncle,” she said, flipping her glasses into place. “You two have so much
in common. You’re both pigheaded, overbearing, arrogant bullies who can’t adjust to the fact that the Cold War is over and it’s time for all good little soldiers to take their tanks and go home.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “Life is not a battlefield, soldier.”
“Finished?”
“Absolutely.”
“Fine. Let’s not make this any more difficult that it has to be, all right?”
“Sounds good to me.”
He held out his hand, palm up. “Just hand over the keys and I’ll help you unload your things from the trunk. In fact,” he added, with a quick grimace at his watch, “if you move it, I’ll even drop you off at the airport.”
“No, thank you,” Cat replied, her smile warm, but her cordial tone sliding steadily into the range of cracked ice. “I think I’d prefer for you to just get your bag from the back seat and get the hell out of my way so I don’t have to run you over on my way out of here.”
“I knew it,” Hunter said, leaning against the closed driver’s door and shaking his head at the sky. “I just knew it.”
“Knew what?” she asked in spite of the urge to utterly ignore him. The silent treatment, in any shape or form, had never been her weapon of choice.
“I knew that dealing with you was going to be one gigantic pain in the—” He paused mid-growl and glared at her. “Neck.”
“You mean simply because I want you to mind your own business and let me do the job I was hired to do?”
“This is my business,” he insisted. “Your uncle—my boss—made it my business. I didn’t go looking for the assignment, I sure as hell don’t want it, but lady, there’s no way I’m going to walk away from it...not even with your permission,” he added, his mouth twisting in a sardonic smile. “I’m driving this car to Florida.”
“Over my dead body.”
He shrugged. “Would you settle for bound and gagged?”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“In a second, if it becomes necessary,” he snapped, spearing her with a look so quietly threatening Cat had to quell an urge to take a step backward. His eyes were gold and shadowed, like hammered brass, his jaw dusted with yesterday’s whiskers, and his tall, lean body tense and absolutely still. The old fight-or-flight battle was raging full force inside Cat when he relaxed suddenly and gave another of those careless shrugs. “But it won’t come to that,” he said.
To be dismissed with such indifference really got to her, making her reckless.
“You don’t say?” she murmured. “How about keys? You can’t drive without keys.”
His look was the sort you might direct at a not-too-bright child, which is what she suddenly felt like for goading him so foolishly. “That’s why I’m going to give you about another minute and a half to hand them over before I take them off you,” he replied.
Cat instinctively thrust her hand in her shorts pocket and realized even before his gaze followed the movement and lingered that it had been another mistake. She couldn’t help it. He made her nervous.
“If you take this car,” she said slowly and determinedly, “I’ll call the police and report it stolen. You’ll be caught before you’re out of the city.”
“I don’t think so,” Hunter replied. “Because you’re smart enough to know that if you do report it and the police stop me, I’ll refer them straight to the general. I already have a letter of reference from him on me,” he added, patting the back pocket of his faded green army fatigues. “And we both know that the general has more contacts and influence with the officials in Canada and the U.S. than anyone, except maybe God.”
He was half right. She did know all that, she just hadn’t been thinking straight enough to realize it until he pointed it out. She knew from experience that if the authorities became involved, Uncle Hank would find some way to persuade or pressure them into doing things his way no matter how many rules had to be bent in the process. Complaining about it would be like shooting herself in the foot. If she caused enough flap the newspapers might even pick up the story. She could see the headline now. General Stops Niece from Seeing the USA in a Chevrolet. How long until word of the whole embarrassing mess filtered back to Tony LaCompte, who was, according to Gator, a real nervous Nellie when it came to his classic car collection?
There was no telling when a real career opportunity would turn up and she could stop depending on odd jobs like this one to support herself. In the meantime, Gator was an invaluable asset. He seemed to either know everyone in Florida who needed something done or know someone who knew them. She wanted to impress him with her ability to handle whatever problems might arise and get the job done in spite of them, not give him cause to think she was too much trouble to bother with in the future.
No, damn Uncle Hank and the brass-eyed henchman he’d sent to do his dirty work. That wasn’t going to happen. She was going to handle this, by God. Cat slanted a glance at Hunter, who was watching her expectantly, as if certain that any minute she would come to her senses and hand over the keys like a good little girl. She was going to handle him, too, she decided. In the only way available to her at the moment. Distasteful though it might be.
Smiling her most conciliatory smile, she pushed her glasses to the top of her head, the better for him to see the sincerity glowing in her eyes.
“How about a compromise?” she suggested.
His eyes narrowed. “What do you have in mind?”
Tying you to the rear bumper and dragging you across the border, Cat thought.
“I drive the car to Florida, as requested by the legal owner,” she added pointedly, “and I let you come along for the ride.”
“Out of the question. I prefer to travel alone.”
“So do I, as it so happens. Do I have to define the word compromise for you? Think about it, Hunter,” she urged, switching to a more cajoling tone. “I’ll be taking care of my responsibilities and so will you. The only reason Uncle Hank sent you here is because he’s worried that something will happen to me during the long drive alone. Now I won’t be alone.” She couldn’t quite suppress a grin. “And what could possibly happen to me with someone as menacing as you along? Sorry, sorry,” she continued hurriedly as his jaw snapped shut on whatever he had been about to say. Why couldn’t she have stuck with sweet and cajoling for a few minutes longer?
“It’s still out of the question,” he told her.
“Why?”
“Because I’m not a damn baby-sitter, that’s why.”
“And I’m no one’s baby.”
“Tell that to the general. There’s another reason, too,” he continued without giving her a chance to speak. “The fact that you can’t give in and accept that your uncle has a right to be concerned for you proves to me that you’re exactly the sort of selfish, spoiled brat I expected you to be, and truthfully, I can’t imagine spending a few hours alone in a car with you, never mind days.”
“Is that all?”
He shot her an incredulous look and ran his hand over his hair. “Look, just give me the keys before I say something else I’ll probably be sorry for later.”
“You haven’t said anything to be sorry for. My feelings have survived being called worse things than a spoiled brat.”
“I was thinking I’d be sorry after you ran back and told the general what I called you.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t run to the general with my problems. Not that it stops him from meddling.”
“What can I say, he loves you.”
This time his shrug suggested definite uneasiness. Cat couldn’t tell if it was having to say the L-word or her anguished sigh that had made him suddenly uncomfortable. She tried the sigh again, adding the slightest catch at the end to hint at tears just barely held back.
“I love him, too,” she said softly. “But just once I’d like to prove I can handle things on my own. Do you have any idea how it feels to be treated like some sort of bird in a gilded cage?”
“No.”
“It feels horrible.�
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“Yeah, well, you’ll probably feel a whole lot better once you get back home,” he said awkwardly. “Go shopping, sleep late—there must be something you’d rather do than watch hundreds of miles of highway go by. Hell, most people would leap at the chance to make money for nothing.”
“This isn’t only about money. It’s not even entirely about proving I can do it.”
The silence stretched between them as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Finally he asked. “What is it about?”
“It’s about a once-in-a-lifetime chance for a job I really want.”
“You mean driving other people’s cars around the country is what you want to do with your life?” He sounded perplexed.
Cat dipped her head to hide her urge to giggle. “I’m not talking about this job. This is just to pay the rent until I find something permanent. I studied to be a photojournalist.”
“That’s right. Your uncle mentioned something about that.”
“What my uncle doesn’t know is that a magazine I’d do anything to work for has given me a tentative go-ahead for a project I pitched to them.” A bit of an exaggeration, Cat thought, but she had to use what she had at her disposal. This was war, after all, and he had experience and brute strength on his side.
“This ought to give you some extra free time to work on it.”
“It would, except that the work I have to do is in four or five different places along the east coast. I was counting on using this trip to get where I need to go to take the shots I need for the project. I couldn’t afford the necessary travel any other way, not to mention that my old clunker of a car would never make it.” She stared into the distance, her teeth closing on her trembling lower lip. “Getting this job was the answer to my prayers.”
“Does your uncle know all this?”
Cat shook her head vehemently. “And I don’t want him to know. Not until the editor gives me a definite yes. I’ve had too many false starts lately, and I think poor Uncle Hank takes the disappointments harder than I do. I want to spare his feelings at all costs.”
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