Chasing a Dream (6 page)

They’d outrun the worst of the rain. Only a light sprinkling remained, and the sun managed to peek out through tiny breaks in the clouds. He took the change in the weather as a good omen.

The silence in the car dragged on for several more minutes, until Tess spoke. “Why?”

Without asking for clarification, he understood her terse question. She needed more than platitudes, more than the
because I have to
that sprang to mind. She wanted to understand what compelled him to force his way into her life, and she deserved to know the truth.

“I promise I’ll tell you everything later. Right now, why don’t you try to get some sleep.”

She gave him a tiny, humorless laugh. “Sleep. I’ve almost forgotten what that is.”

Massaging the stiffness out of his neck muscles with one hand, he blinked his gritty-feeling eyes. “Well, I could use a good night’s sleep. There’s a town in about another forty miles. What’s say we stop there and get a room for the night?”

Her head whipped around, and the apprehension in her eyes now focused on him. “Get a room?”

“Yeah. We have to stop sometime.” Tugging up one corner of his mouth, he flashed her a gentle grin. “You do plan to stop for food and sleep, don’t you?”

Her hands moved restlessly in her lap. “I . . . I . . .”

“Is it stopping that bothers you, or sharing a room with me?”

She turned away and watched the passing scenery for a moment before answering. “Either. Both.”

“Tess, we tossed the phone, so he’s not tracking us anymore.” Justin rubbed his chin and returned his attention to the highway. “He won’t know where you are. It’s safe to stop.” With a sideways glance, he found her chewing her bottom lip again. “Will you stop that? You’re going to make it bleed.” When she cast him a startled frown, he grinned. “Your mouth is too pretty for you to go around mistreating your lip that way.”

Dumbfounded silence was her only response.

“As far as the room goes, just get used to the idea. I’m not letting you out of my sight. Not after what happened back there.” He paused and tapped the steering wheel with his fingers. “I’ve been thinking. If we register as Mr. and Mrs. Justin Boyd, your name doesn’t appear in the hotel records. That’s added protection for you, right?”

She blinked, her eyes still full of distrust, but she nodded.

“I’ll ask for two beds, of course. And I won’t try to jump your bones, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Her eyes grew even wider. Then she turned away with a swift, jerky motion. She raised a neatly manicured fingernail to her teeth, and he reached over to catch her hand.

“Same goes for the fingernails. No biting allowed. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.” He wrapped his fingers around her shoulder and squeezed gently. “Try to relax.”

She shivered. “Easy for you to say.” Lifting her chin, she faced him, irritation blazing in her eyes. “Look, I don’t know why you’ve decided I’m your charity case or your personal damsel to save, but I didn’t ask for a bodyguard. Not that I don’t appreciate the help you gave me back at the restaurant, but the thing is, I’d rather do this alone. I don’t want to be responsible for putting you at risk. I don’t want a roommate. And I don’t need a nag telling me not to bite my nails if I feel like it!”

Try as he might, he couldn’t suppress a grin.

“Now what are you laughing at?” Her wrinkled brow and chiding tone reflected her pique.

“I knew there was a spark buried in you.”

“Excuse me?” She tipped her head, pinning him with a baffled stare.

“Never forget the fact that you took action, Tess. No matter what else happens, you had the courage to get away from a bad situation. That in itself is a victory.”

Clearly, his directness caught her off guard. She sank back against her seat and seemed to wilt. “It wasn’t courage that made me leave. It was fear. I’m not nearly as heroic as you want to paint me.” Dropping her chin, she stared down at her hands.

“I know what I see. Besides, courage isn’t the absence of fear, it’s the ability to act despite the fear.”

She gave him a brief glance then seemed to be considering his point. Silence returned for the next several miles, but now the quiet felt more companionable than tense. When he pulled the Jimmy into the parking lot of an independently owned motel, he sensed the tension filling her again.

Taking her hand, he brushed a kiss on her knuckles. “Shall we check in, Mrs. Boyd?”

Her gaze lingered on their linked hands for a moment before lifting to meet his. The misgivings he read in her expression as she weighed her options faded, and with a light squeeze of his hand, she relayed the faith she put in him. He accepted her trust as the precious gift it was. Warmth spread through him and seeped into the dark crevices where guilt and despair had lived for long years.

When her mouth curved in a small smile, her face glowed. Tess had an undeniable beauty, inside and out. His thoughts leaped to his impulsive attempt to kiss her. Even stroking her lush mouth with his fingers had fueled a desire he knew he had to control. He’d promised her safety, and she’d offered her trust.

Now they would be sharing a room, posing as man and wife, sleeping within the same walls. He’d sworn not to touch her, and his conscience wouldn’t let him break that oath.

But if she made the first move, all bets were off.

CHAPTER
FOUR

His men were waiting when he strode into the dim warehouse. Tony Morelli gave them a grim look as he approached, relaying his disgust with their piss-poor work. Dominic seemed particularly edgy, despite his dark glower. And so he should be. He’d not done his job, made Morelli look bad to Sinclair. By all rights, Dominic should be quaking in his snakeskin boots.

“Let’s have it. What do we know? Where is she?” Morelli barked.

Henry Granger, a tall, burly man Sinclair had hand-picked, spoke first. “We know she went north since Dom tracked her to outside Waco. We’ve focused our efforts in that region, put more men there.”

“That was hours ago,” Morelli growled and stepped closer to Henry. “She could be anywhere in a two-hundred-mile radius by now.”

Henry squared his shoulders. “We’ve got the area covered. Got the whole damn state covered for that matter. She won’t be hard to find. A woman as hot as Tess Sinclair is gonna get noticed, whether she wants it or not.”

Dominic shifted his weight, drawing Morelli’s attention. “We’ve got ears on ’bout any number she might call. Her secretary, their house . . . everyone right down to her hairdresser. If she calls anyone for help, we’ll trace it.”

“If.” Morelli faced Dominic fully. “If she calls. And what if she don’t? Sinclair’s frothin’ at the mouth. He wants her back yesterday!” He stepped closer to Dominic and shoved his face close to the shorter man’s. Close enough to smell the man’s sweat. “Do you understand what I’m sayin’?”

“Our men have given pictures of her to places along the highways where she might stop. Motels, restaurants, gas stations and the like. Put a real sweet price on any lead that pays off. We’ve already got tips comin’ in.” Dominic gave him a satisfied grin. “We’ve got eyes everywhere.”

Morelli stepped back and rubbed the bristly stubble on his jaw. “Sinclair says she stole his money. When you find her, if she makes trouble, no need to be gentle with her.”

He glanced from Henry to Dominic to make sure they’d understood. Like ’em or not, those were Sinclair’s orders. His job was not to second guess, just to comply. Still, hurting a woman wasn’t Morelli’s style. He’d slit his share of men’s throats in his day, but with women, well . . . women were good for so many nicer things. Speaking of which . . .

He glanced at his watch, eager to finish his business and get back to Maria. If this morning was any indication, his wife had some nice things planned for him when he got home. His blood heated at the thought.

“All right. I want another report tonight. You get anything promisin’ on her, I want to hear. Got it?”

“Got it.”

Dominic turned to leave, and Morelli sent Henry a silent signal.

“Not so fast, Dom. Sinclair wanted you to know how disappointed he was that you let his wife get away.”

Dominic stopped and cast a wary glance over his shoulder. Henry grabbed him in a wrestler’s hold, pinning the stocky man’s arms to his sides. Panic filled Dominic’s eyes, and Morelli snarled in disgust.

Whipping a switchblade from under his jacket, Morelli seized Dominic’s right hand.

“Noooo!”

Dominic’s pinkie came off with a quick, clean swipe of the switchblade, and the man crumpled to the floor, howling in pain. “Don’t fail Randall Sinclair or me again, Dom. He’s not likely to give you a third chance.”

***

Tess stood in the middle of the floor, rubbing the goose bumps on her arms and moving her gaze around the dark motel room. The dark green and blue patterned bedspreads had been chosen to hide dirt, she supposed, and not to dispel the gloomy ambience.

Justin’s backpack bumped her fanny when he scooted past her, attesting to the narrow confines. She stepped out of his way, rubbing her bottom.

As he dumped his possessions in the corner by one of the sagging beds, he grinned at her. “Sorry.”

With a click, he snapped on the wall light, and a golden glow spilled from behind the scalloped, plastic lampshade. The soft light brightened the room some, but Tess remained uneasy.

Eyeing Justin as he settled in, she acknowledged that her discomfort came from her circumstances and not her environment. The small motel room seemed even smaller because of the man hanging his cowboy hat on the top end of his guitar case.

She also acknowledged that her discomfort could not be called fear. Although fear had been a living thing inside her for most of the day, she trusted Justin. Her uncertainty sprang from the way he’d thrust himself into her life, appointed himself her protector. Even after his first-hand taste of the danger she faced, he chose to stay with her, flatly refused to leave when she begged him to get himself out of harm’s way. But why? He was hiding something from her, and that missing piece of the puzzle gnawed at her.

She intended to draw the truth from him. Somehow.

Justin turned down the window unit air conditioner, which blew musty-smelling, damp air. The elimination of the cool draft eased the chill that prickled her arms, burrowed to her bones, and even made her nose run. She longed for a chance to change into warm, dry clothes after spending the afternoon wet and shivering.

Apparently, her roommate had similar ideas, because he stripped his damp T-shirt over his head and began rummaging in his backpack. “Draw straws for first dibs on the shower?”

Tess stared at his wide, taut chest and tan nipples with a nervous fluttering in her stomach. Why had she agreed to share a room with him? Surely there’d been a suitable compromise if she’d taken the time to think it through.

“Tess?”

Then again, he hadn’t given her much choice.

His high-handedness nettled her, but she kept silent. Experience had taught her that the less she argued or provoked, the better. When he bent to dig in his pack again, she followed the bumpy path of his spine down his muscled back to the point it disappeared into his jeans.

“I don’t mind waiting, if you want to go first,” he said. “Just save me a little hot water. Okay?”

Sharing close quarters would be awkward at best. She knew next to nothing about this man. Except that he had a charm, a reassuring manner, a presence about him that managed to lull her despite the circumstances. His sense of fairness led him to pay for half of a motel room she’d guess he couldn’t afford. He had a stubborn streak that made reasoning with him an exercise in futility.

And he was as handsome as the devil.

The unbidden thought popped into her mind, rattling her senses, much the way his near-kiss had startled her. She raised a hand to touch her lips, remembering the soft pressure of his fingers there.

He’d said her mouth was pretty. Warmth gathered in her chest and radiated outward, tingling in her limbs, muddling her brain. She should know better than to take his offhand compliment seriously, but his kindness touched a raw nerve, soothed her bruised spirit.

Echoes of Randall’s rage, just one night before, filtered through her mind. In recent years, all she’d known from Randall was humiliation. She suppressed a shudder and chased the ugly memories away by focusing on Justin’s activity. He pulled a pair of white briefs out of his backpack and tucked them under his arm with the fresh jeans and T-shirt he’d already extracted.

The corners of his eyes crinkled when he faced her. “Yo, Tess? You in there?”

“Hm?” Snapped from her dazed examination of him, she met the amusement in his blue eyes.

“And women accuse men of not listening.” He shook his head. “Do. You. Want. The. Shower. First?” He pinned her with a pointed gaze and curled his lips in a wry smile.

“Oh. Uh . . . no, you go ahead.” She stepped over to the bed farthest from him and sank wearily on the edge. “You never did eat before. You must be starving.”

Rubbing his lean stomach, he came around the end of his bed and headed for the shower. “You’re right about that.”

Drawn by the motion of his hand, her attention lingered on the dark hair sprinkled across his abdomen. “I could order room service if you—”

His laughter interrupted her. “We’re not in the Marriott, Tess. I don’t think room service is an option.”

Frowning at him, she scrunched the ugly bedspread in her hands. “I know that. I’m just tired. My brain is kind of numb, and I—”

“Don’t sweat it. I’ll get something from the vending machine later.” He waved a dismissive hand as he sauntered toward the bathroom.

“Nothing nutritious ever came out of a vending machine, Justin.”

He paused and cast her an odd look. She caught her breath, realizing her comment could have been construed as a challenge rather than concern.

“Junk food got me where I am today. Something nutritious would probably send my body into shock.” With a wink, he disappeared into the bathroom.

After a moment to release the air from her lungs, Tess found herself grinning. Justin’s easy-going demeanor and sense of humor were foreign to her. Randall had little patience with her occasional attempts at levity, and his overbearing nature soon quashed her desire to try to lighten his mood. Peaceful coexistence quickly proved her best tactic with her common-law husband.