Leaving Las Vegas (Entangled Ignite) (12 page)

Strong hands wrapped around her wrists. “I know what you’re up to.” A murmur in her ear.

“I’m not up to anything.” She struggled against his grasp. Hard. He didn’t budge. The man was like a statue welded from iron. Luke raised his head. His entire body moved forward until his face was only inches away from hers. For a lean man, Luke was built like two tons of concrete. The weight of his body on hers was solid and surprisingly arousing.

“Using me to distract the cop? It’s not how I thought you’d ask for a kiss, but it was…bold.” Lust turned his voice into a low growl. “Sexy.”

Kisses. They started out soft and sweet, then turned passionate. Hands skimmed up underneath her borrowed jacket. Not because she wanted to hide from cops or convince him to go along with some wild scheme. Not for any particular reason at all. She was a woman, he was a man, and somewhere in the distance birds were singing. There were so many things that she wanted to know about him, about his life. What did he do on lazy Sunday afternoons? Did he watch a baseball game? Or did he spend his time going over business records?

Her body stilled. What had she been thinking? The man was tall, handsome, and undeniably sexy. He had a good personality and a great laugh. In less than twenty-four hours, he would realize he had someplace better to be. Las Vegas, a town where he could stomp across neighborhoods,
developing
parking garages on land that had brought people together for generations.

“This was a mistake. I don’t—” She swallowed hard, pulling her hands out of his grip. “No kissing, Luke.” She’d asked him to kiss her. No, she’d
ordered
him to kiss her. “We have to go back to the original agreement. No kissing.” She turned away.

Luke was wonderful. He just wasn’t her kind of wonderful.

Chapter Twelve

“I got directions to a place nearby. Shouldn’t take us more than five minutes to get there.” Glory held plastic bags of supplies bought at the old concrete-block gas station. “The gas station attendant swears it’s private. We’ll be able to hole up there for a few hours, let Tiffanette and her goons chase their tails on the interstate while we clean up.”

After she’d told him that they needed to go back to the no-kissing rule, Luke had remained silent for a few moments. When he finally did speak, it was just to tell her that they needed to find a place to hide out until dark.

She’d gone into the convenience store and asked the gas station attendant to recommend a place. The man had come up with somewhere private. Off the road. Where they could stay out of sight. It might not be the smartest choice in the world, given her insistence that they go back to following the old rule, but it would have to do. She slung the bags through the passenger window, blinking in surprise when they connected with something unexpected.

“You’re in the wrong seat.”

“I need to get a bandage on my arm, and I don’t want to wait around here any longer. You drive, I’ll patch myself up.” Luke’s words came out strong, but a worried frown covered his forehead.

Glory bit back a grin, adrenaline roaring through her veins. The night in Las Vegas, she’d been in no condition to appreciate the pure power of the Aston Martin. But over the last two days, she’d had the opportunity to appreciate the way it handled, responding lightly to Luke’s every touch. Just thinking about getting her fingers on the stick had her blood sizzling. She’d never been into cars before, but then again, she’d never been in a James Bond car before, either. “I’ve been wanting to take this baby for another spin,” she said.

“Carefully. It’s your turn to drive,
carefully
.”

“Of course. Don’t worry about a thing.” She raced around to the other side of the car and slipped into the driver’s seat, leaning down to move it forward a few inches before straightening, adjusting the mirrors, and reaching for the keys.

“You need to be light on the gas going into first.”

“This isn’t my first rodeo, cowboy.” Glory fumbled with the keys, slotting them into the ignition. Her left foot found the clutch; her right foot found the brake. She took a deep breath, forcing air down into her lungs. Her skin was humming. “I can drive a manual transmission.”

“I saw you drive the other night.”

“That was different.” She turned the key in the ignition, once, twice, three times before hearing the soft roar of the car coming to life under her hands. Her entire life she’d only ever driven the used cars that seemed to circulate endlessly throughout her family. The Vanquish was more like one of the high-end motorcycles that Hallie liked to ride. Eager, throaty, a hungry predator waiting to eat up the road.

“This is going to be just fine.” Grasping the stick shift with one hand, she depressed the clutch all the way before putting it in gear. The engine roared eagerly in response. This car might just be a rich man’s toy, but
damn
…

“Easy does it.” Luke reached out, capturing her hand with his. For a moment they were just sitting there, hand in hand, like young lovers waiting for whatever came next. Waiting for something magical. His thumb moved back and forth, making tiny circles on Glory’s skin. The slightest motion enough to make her breath come faster, wondering what else he could do with his fingers. “It’s like sex. Everything gets better when you relax.”

“Nice line.”

“Thanks,” he said. His voice was full of warm good humor, but his gaze was already searching the rearview mirror. Looking for black SUVs and gun-toting blondes. Would there ever be a time when they weren’t looking behind them?

“Did you get any info from those phone calls you just made?” she asked.

“More like a lack of information.” Luke’s hand pulled away. He reached into the bag, pulling out the first aid kit she’d bought. “I got in touch with a private detective who’s done some work for me before. He did some digging on people close to me, and he also pulled Tiffanette’s phone records for the last few months. Nothing popped.”

“She hasn’t talked to anyone unusual?”

“It’s hard to say. Apparently most of her phone calls are to casino exchanges. It’s not unusual, not in Las Vegas.” He picked up a package of bandages, tearing it open with his teeth. “My phone records probably look similar.”

“So there’s nothing new?”

“I have the detective looking into people’s finances. Erick—my head of construction—took a bath in the real estate collapse. His house is underwater, and he might lose it.” Luke’s hand fumbled as he removed his heavy watch and placed it on the dashboard. “People in that situation can get desperate.”

“Do you think he could have orchestrated this?”

“No.” Luke’s hand shook as he pressed a bandage against his bloody arm. “I can’t believe Erick has anything to do with this. I mean, I’d give him the damn money. If he asked for it.”

Glory frowned. He hadn’t cleaned the wound first. Her teeth ground together. She was sick of all these mysteries. She wanted answers. “Let’s start from the top. Who benefits if you’re out of the picture?”

“My employees can take care of my business, mostly. There will be a few contractors who will have to wait to be paid. A few people who owe me, they’ll get to hold on to their cash until I get back.” A second bandage followed the first. “Erick will get a few more days to go over the plans for the garage—”

“And if it’s not about the ransom? Who benefits if you’re gone more than a few days?”

“Excuse me?”

“Those thugs—” Her voice was shaking. She swallowed, hard, struggling to bring her emotions back under control. “They were shooting at us. Back there at the diner. They
shot you
.”

“They were just trying to grab me, for the ransom.”

“No.” Her tongue felt thick in her mouth. The words were hard to get out, but she had to say them. She had to point out what neither of them had noticed before, but was becoming more obvious by the minute. “You want to ransom someone, it means you want to keep them in relatively good condition, I imagine. These people no longer care if they hurt you. They don’t care if you—” Her gaze was locked on the road as she counted turns in the road to follow the gas station attendant’s directions.

“Who benefits if—” If you die, she thought, but she couldn’t say it. Not now. “If you’re not around anymore,” she finished lamely.

“My mother inherits everything, but she’s got plenty of money of her own. And Chester has gobs of the stuff.”

“So you have no real suspects.”

“Millions. Just no one with a name.”

The car was suddenly too hot. Too small. Glory could feel the world crowding in on them. What kind of man was he? To have so many nameless enemies and not even care? She punched at the automatic controls until she figured out how to open the windows. Taking a deep breath, she could taste water on the air. Humidity that had her hair curling and her skin prickling. The trees were whipping by. The farther Glory went down the road, the taller the trees, with fuller branches and dark-green leaves.

Luke settled back in his seat, letting the first aid kit fall to the floor of the car. The bullet track was still half-exposed. He hadn’t cleaned any of the blood off his arm. The man was absolutely hopeless.

She’d have to redo it when they got to their destination. That reminded her… “You like to fish?” she asked.

“Fishing? Like with sticks and string?”

Sticks and string. A short guffaw. Was that supposed to be a joke? It was actually pretty funny. “You mean poles and line?”

“I’ve never been fishing,” he said.

“You’re kidding, right?” She realized her mouth was hanging open. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a man who didn’t fish before. Back home there’s not much else to do on a Sunday afternoon. At least, when there’s no football game on.”

“So, you fish?”

“It’s not exactly high on my list of priorities, but sure. I fish.” There was a long pause.

Luke had shifted slightly in his seat, so he was facing her. “Why are we talking about fishing?”

“I told the clerk at the gas station I was looking for someplace to go with my—” She’d used the word “boyfriend,” more as a way to stop any unwanted advances than anything else. She knew Luke wasn’t interested in her that way, but the word still made her stutter. “My friend. The guy said there’s a bend in the river about ten miles away from here. There’s an old fishing camp. It’s not the Four Seasons, but the car will be off the road in case any of Tiffanette’s thugs drive by.”

“
That’s
the place you found for us to hide out? Won’t someone else be using the place? Fishermen?”

“Nobody’s fished there in years.”

“We can’t go there. The road will be full of rocks, trees—”

“The road’s still in use. Don’t worry—your precious car will be fine.”

Twenty feet off the main road there was a dirt path leading through the woods. There was no mistaking the sign the attendant had told her about. A slab of granite with graffiti on the side. A bright red heart,
Jack and June Bug 4-Ever
. The graffiti had faded unevenly; one side was almost entirely gone. The other side shone as if it had been painted that morning:
June Bug 4-Ever
.

Glory made a sharp turn, holding her breath as she listened to the once-shiny sports car bump and grind across the gravel road. A quarter mile down the road, a dusty parking lot, a boat ramp, and a waterfall that spilled into a large pool in a slow-moving river came into view. Jack and June Bug were just the beginning. Every flat surface was covered in spray paint. Generations of lovers making their mark on tree trunks, granite slabs, and the boat ramp’s concrete sides. There was no telling what stone had been used to build the old warming hut on the far side of the parking pad—it was a riot of color. Blue, pink, and gold.
Jack loves Honey
and
Peter + Gina
.

“What the hell is this place?” Luke asked, his voice deep and slightly rumbly.

Glory didn’t need to look in the mirror to know her cheeks were flushed a deep pink. “Can’t you guess?” she asked. “It’s Lover’s Lane.”

Chapter Thirteen

Lover’s Lane. Luke bit his lip to keep from laughing. Lover’s
freaking
Lane. Glory couldn’t have found any other place to hole up? A motel? The gas station restroom? Any place a little less romantic? He was having a hard enough time respecting her personal space—keeping his hands off her tight, luscious body—without having to look at so many passionate declarations.

He forced himself to push the door open, got out of the Vanquish and blinking back the sunlight. The river was twenty feet wide and ten feet deep, pooling under the falls before bubbling clear over red slate. Overhead he could hear birds singing, and each breath brought with it the sharp scent of willow trees. Behind the spray paint and graffiti, the stately rocks reached up toward the azure sky and took his breath away.

“Damn.” Luke knew he didn’t have much perspective. He’d spent his entire life in the desert, walking the dry streets of a manmade oasis, searching for his next gasp of cold, air-conditioned air.

Still, he couldn’t imagine any place more beautiful than where they were standing. “This is heaven on earth.”

A sharp laugh from Glory, climbing out of the car behind him. “By my reckoning, we’re still a good day’s travel outside of heaven, but it’ll do.”

“Is this what it’s like where you live?”

“Not quite.” There was a long pause. “Beaux’s in West Virginia. We’re in a holler, up near the border with Ohio.” The more she talked, the thicker her accent got. “It’s got some of the most diverse plant life in the country—maybe even the world—ginseng, pawpaws, and mushrooms like you wouldn’t believe. Black Lake’s got over a dozen different types of fish. Migratory birds stop by every year. A few summers back there was a snapping turtle, but Ashley put a stop to that. I’ve still got some turtle soup in the deep freeze at work.”

Glory’s smile came on, big and broad. “Back in the day, the mountains were full of coal miners and moonshiners. These days there’s not much industry. People either commute to Charleston or work from home. It’s still the most beautiful place you’ve ever seen.” Plastic bags rustled. “Is it painful?” she asked.

“Painful—” Keeping his libido in check took every ounce of self-control Luke had. It was pure torture, but it wasn’t painful. He took a step forward. Without the constraints of the car holding it into place, his left arm swung awkwardly. Pain shot through his body.

His entire life he’d had nightmares about being shot the way his father had been. Now he’d been shot—but not fatally. He flexed experimentally. The bullet track wasn’t pleasant—it definitely stung—but he could still use the arm. “It’s not so bad.”

“You don’t have to be so stoic. I mean, the attitude is pretty hot, but you can tell me it hurts.”

“Really. I’m okay.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Glory’s hand was firm on his right wrist. There was no waiting for him to move. Instead, she gave a quick tug. Then another. Every move was sharp, businesslike, and insistent. She kept pulling until he turned around to face her straight on.

The borrowed suit jacket gaped across her chest, displaying rounded breasts. Without meaning to, she’d placed herself in the exact same position she’d taken that morning. The same position she’d been in back at the gas station, perched on the hood of his car. Her taut body leaning back again the hot metal.

For one glorious moment when she’d kissed him—pulling him in close—he’d thought she wanted him. Sinking into her body made him feel like he was flying. Her hot mouth on his, her fingers digging into her back—and then he’d realized what she was doing. Distracting the police officer from Luke’s bloody wound. Protecting him in her own unique way.

Majorly hot. But then she’d called a stop to the kissing, reinstating the rule.

No rule could stop him from remembering the sweetness of her kisses and the way her body had felt underneath his, knowing that he could make her moan with the slightest stroke of his fingers across her silky thighs.

Damn. He shouldn’t be getting an erection while she was bandaging his arm. It wasn’t like they were playing Doctor.

“I—” Luke struggled to think of something to say. Something that didn’t involve whispering sweet nothings in her ear.

Glory rolled his sleeve up two more times until the cuff dug into his biceps, leaving his lower arm clear. The bag of supplies was lying next to her on the hood of the car. She let out an involuntary shudder when she peeled back his lame attempt at a bandage and exposed the wound. “All those guns were going off. Bullets flying everywhere.” Her voice shook, but her hands were steady. “I should have been paying better attention—I was just so scared—I figured the bad guys had missed. Like in the movies. Apparently, Tiffanette has better hiring protocols than Darth Vader. It’s a good thing we’re not wearing red shirts or we’d be dead by now.”

“You know you just mixed
Star Wars
and
Star Trek
?” Luke’s eyes narrowed. “You’re kind of a geek when you’re nervous.”

“You mind?”

“I think it’s sexy.”

She rolled her eyes. “Can you take your shirt off?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to say that for days.” Luke winced as she pulled off the bandages he’d put on in the car.

“Here.” Glory brushed his hands out of the way. She took another step toward him, so close that their knees brushed against each other when she leaned forward. Her fingers skimmed nimbly across Luke’s chest, popping his buttons open. She sucked in a breath when she finally undid the last button, baring his chest to the sunlight. She pushed his shirt back over his biceps, her eyes gleaming hungrily.

She was looking straight at his chest, her gaze following the trail of hair from his belly button down to his pants. Was that gasp one of concern for his wound, or was she getting turned on?

If he was going to follow the rules, then he should turn away, concentrate on the wind in the trees and the soft burble of the river. But nothing could move his gaze from the soft vee caused by her breasts pressing together or her taut, tan belly. Did she spend all day lying out in the sun? And, more importantly, did the tan go all the way down?

“We’ll stay here for a few more hours, hide out until dark,” Glory said.

Every breath she let out sent hot air racing across Luke’s skin. For one long moment, Luke thought she’d forgotten all about the wound on his arm.

“It’ll mean we won’t get to Beaux until late tomorrow, but that can’t be helped.”

“I promised I’d see you home.”

“And we’ll get there…eventually.”

She pulled his shirt the rest of the way off and went to work. Her motions were friendly but businesslike. Looking at a wound definitely wasn’t a prelude to anything more seductive.

“If you haven’t figured out what’s going on by then, I’ve got a spare bed. I’ll make Benji go to Ashley’s…even if she does whine. And Beaux is as good a place to hole up as any.”

Was he hearing things? Had Glory just invited him to stay with her? Not forever, but for a few more days, at least. Days spent listening to her laugh at someone else’s jokes. Watching her with Cara May. Benji. All the people she’d mentioned over the past few days, people who knew her better than he ever could.

People who would take one look at him and turn up their nose at the spoiled out-of-towner.

“No, thanks.”

“It could be fun—”

“No,” he snapped out. At her raised eyebrow, he added quietly, “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“It wouldn’t be an imposition. With friends—real friends—it’s never an imposition.” She smoothed the last bandage into place, her movements jerkier than they’d been a minute earlier.

Huh. He’d upset her.

Glory leaned back slightly to inspect her work. Her hand reached up, running across his shoulder and then moving to his chest. Her breath caught in her throat. Her fingers shook slightly, running through dark chest hair. She found a scar over his right pectoral. A small reminder of what could happen if he wasn’t careful. Her pinky finger ran across the tiny ridge.

“What happened?”

“It was an accident.”

“Yeah, you accidentally poke yourself in the chest with a sharp stick?”

“Something like that.” He reached up, covering her hand with his. Callused fingers pressing her to his chest. Her breath was coming faster now. Her tongue darting out, moistening soft, edible lips. “It was in high school. This guy came after me in biology class.”

“What’d you do? Steal his girlfriend?”

“Not quite.” Luke’s entire body tensed at the memory. His free hand clenched into a tight fist. “He tried to sell me ‘personal protection’ for fifty bucks a week. When I turned him down, he decided to show me just how violent school could be. He had a broken beaker. And I tried to defend myself with a frog.”

“A frog can be useful in the right situation.”

When Glory’s hand started wandering down his chest, suddenly Luke wasn’t interested in sharing old tales. He wanted to create new stories, red-hot memories that would keep him warm in his old age. He wanted to break the rules. “I’m going to kiss you.”

“Like hell.”

“Why not? We’re stuck here for a while—avoiding the goon squad—we might as well enjoy ourselves.”

Her head shook ever so slightly, no, but her breath was coming faster. Her eyes were bright. “I—”

“You kissed me back at the gas station.”

“For a reason.”

“Sure.” He leaned forward slightly, holding himself less than an inch from her. He could feel every breath she took, hot air on his cheek. His hand reached out to rest comfortably on her waist. “Tell me you didn’t enjoy yourself.”

“I didn’t—” Her lips pursed for a few seconds.

He waited for her answer. For a lie, or the truth. That would tell him something. Glory might be able to lie herself silly in room full of strangers, but she couldn’t even tell a fib to someone she cared about without stuttering and stammering.

“Oh, hell.” Glory pushed herself up onto her tiptoes, closing the small gap between them until her lips found his.

The kisses were soft at first, his teeth teasing her lips, his tongue finding hers, daring her to touch him—taste him. His body melted against hers, their hips connecting as he pushed her back against the car in a position that was becoming all too familiar.

The air was humid.

The sun was hot.

Glory was delectable.

When Luke’s fingers touched the hood of the car, the dark metal seared his flesh. It didn’t matter. Nothing could be hotter than the way Glory’s body felt underneath his. He sank into her, enjoying the softness of her curves and the strength of her touch. She was everything that he’d ever wanted in a girlfriend—determined, loyal, and smart enough to give his mother a run for her money.

The warmth in her voice when she talked about her hometown was admirable. The love that she felt toward her family was powerful, and the possibility that she could ever feel anything remotely like that toward him was intoxicating.

Sex on the hood of a luxury car had always been one of Luke’s fantasies. He wasn’t alone. It was probably on the top ten list of any man between the ages of sixteen and six hundred. He’d never tried it, but he imagined that it would be savage, primal, and completely mind-blowing.

If he kept kissing her, then he wouldn’t be able to stop. He’d strip her naked and take her hard against the Vanquish.

Glory’s lips were drifting down his neck, her mouth wet against his skin. His good hand forced its way between them, giving her shorts a sharp tug. He could feel her lips curl up into a smile when the snap popped open.

God help him. He wanted her naked and screaming his name as he brought her to pleasure over and over again. The sounds she’d been making, he knew she was ready, eager. A touch, a stroke, and she’d fall back against the hood of his car. His fantasy made flesh.

But what if he wanted more?

What if he wanted someone to laugh at his jokes and sing him raucous songs? Someone to tell him stories about her quirky small town? Someone to go fishing with? His entire life had been charity fund-raisers and ballroom dancing, but what if he wanted to try out bars with sawdust on the floor and classic rock on the jukebox?

Glory’s hand was splayed out flat on his torso, her fingers pressed against his chest. His muscles tensed in response. He pulled back, one painstaking inch at a time.

There could be no misunderstanding, damn it!

So what—besides the death threat hanging over their heads—was keeping them apart?