CHAPTER 3
SHE IGNORED HIS voice the first two times he called, striding down the warm moonlit sidewalk, feeling brittle inside.
“PAIGE!”
The third time her name tore through the darkness, she actually felt fear. The blatant alarm in that familiar voice sent a surge of adrenaline through her, spiking up her awareness. Awareness of tires over gravel, of headlights blistering her back, a car speeding . . . and Paige began to run.
Tires screeched behind her.
Suddenly all she could hear was that motor roaring in closer. Zach calling out behind her. What was he saying? What was he— oh!
The rocks! The rocks!
Her heart jumped to her throat and she let out a silent, wrenching scream as she twisted her head just a fraction and saw the car, speeding closer still. Finally registering the piles of landscape rocks scattered to her right, she flung herself over one, arms stretched out. A gunshot exploded. Tires squealed, and one popped loudly like a balloon. Poof. She landed on her side, hitting the rich, moist soil with a yelp.
“PAIGE!”
Going flaccid, she rolled to her stomach, digging the heels of her palms into the sandy earth as she struggled to rise. But her elbows buckled, and she fell flat. She heard the car’s slow, noisy escape; an invalid limping for cover. Then she heard nothing but thundering footsteps.
She quaked all over, adrenaline coursing through her body, when Zach dropped beside her and urged her onto her back.
“Christ.” His pulse fluttered wildly at the base of his neck, his breath striking her face in hot, fast gusts as he frantically surveyed her.
Stunned by what had happened, Paige clutched his shoulders with cramped fingers, soiling his shirt with a coating of mud on her palms. Her blood was rushing like a roller coaster thrill inside of her, threaded with fear and shock. The car was no longer in sight.
And he detonated. “If that wasn’t the most stupid, asinine thing to—”
“Oh shut up.” She glared at him, but she didn’t let go of him, her nails gouging into his skin.
“You’ve got a lunatic on your back and you leave me with some bullshit line.” Frowning darkly, he began to feel her, and his voice went hoarse. “Are you hurt?” His hands were invasive, shockingly delicious, running along her sides, checking everywhere. She felt electrified. “I asked—”
“I’m fine.”
She almost sobbed in despair when she had to release him, wanted to cling, touch something, touch him, but he fell onto his back at her side and plopped an arm across his forehead. “Son of a bitch just tried to kill you.”
I’M ALIVE.
Gripped by another, more potent feeling than fear, she saw his chest rise and fall heavily. His magnificent body sprawled on the ground, vibrating with strength. The gleaming streetlights caressed his firm jaw and mouth.
The night had gone deathly sti
ll, but her body burst into chaos. An overwhelming need ripped through her, staggering her, tearing his name out of her in a cragged whisper. “Zach?”
He dropped his arm, his eyes flashing with intent. “He’s not getting to you.”
He jolted into action, snatching up her small shoulder purse from where she didn’t recall dropping it, shoving his gun into his waistband at the small of his back, then half carrying and dragging her across the synthetic-grass hills and back to his apartment. He slammed the door behind them. “We’re leaving.” A black duffel fell at her feet. He got busy and shoved items inside the black bag. A laptop, cords, a manila folder.
All the while, she watched him. Blood sizzled in her body as if her veins were gas-soaked ropes lit by a torch.
Punching some numbers into his cell phone, he called in the license plate while he yanked out a pad and pencil from the desk and briskly jotted down something. He hung up fast, then frowned in concentration as he made more notes, his lips compressed; an avenging angel seething with protective instincts and testosterone. “We have to get out of here. Nordstrom will—”
“Zach?”
He glanced up at her, incensed and agitated.
Paige couldn’t help it. She flung herself at him and— oh, God. She set her lips on his. Recklessly kissing the warm flesh, spreading one hand across his locked, strong jaw.
He made a tormented sound from somewhere deep in his chest. The pad and pen crashed against the floor. He cupped her cheeks with two hands, tilted her head, and seized her lips like a man possessed, thrusting his tongue so deep and hard into her mouth she felt the sizzling, satiny lick down . . . there.