Debra Cowan - Still the One

“And what?” Anxiety pulled at her features.

He hated dumping all this on her at once, but she deserved to know what they might be up against. “I noticed a car behind me on the way over here. The same car, three different times.”

She shook her head. “What—”

“It’s possible you’re being tailed. I’ll know better when we leave here.”

“Tony was right about that, too?” She sagged against the wall, her features wan and suddenly ravaged by fatigue.

Compassion and protectiveness swept through him. His first impulse was to put an arm around her, but he stayed where he was, giving her time to absorb it.

She stood quietly for a few moments, her fingers thrusting repeatedly through her hair. Fear, uncertainty skipped across her features then resignation. She straightened, her voice shaky. “I guess we’d better get going.”

“You all right?”

“Yes.” She wouldn’t meet his eyes, and Rafe couldn’t stop the hard squeeze in his chest.

Fighting the vortex of memories, the emotion sucking at him, he pivoted and walked out of the room. “On our way out of town, I’ll drop off these photos and have some copies made.”

He didn’t like the concern for her that chewed at him. He wanted space, needed it; instead he was spending the next three to four hours with her.

“Tomorrow I’ll take Tony’s computer to the office, see if my contact can salvage anything useful off there. I’ll also check out Tony’s current employer and his parole officer.”

She nodded and followed him into the hallway, still looking shell-shocked.

“Could you write down the name of anyone else who might’ve been implicated in the scam he pulled, anyone who testified against him?”

“Sure,” she said faintly.

His body humming with frustration and remembered passion, Rafe waited on the lawn while she locked the front door, then walked toward his car. She halted uncertainly at the edge of the driveway.

His gaze shot between her car and his. It would be dark soon, but he’d made the drive south between Oklahoma City and Davis many times. The Department of Public Safety was more tolerant of his night blindness than the United States Air Force had been. Besides, he needed something to occupy his hands and his mind. Needed a release for the energy seething inside him, needed to feel the raw power of the ’Vette beneath him. “We’ll take mine,” he said gruffly.

She moved to the passenger side and opened the door before he could. Once inside, she shut her door with a loud click.

Gripping his keys so tightly they bit into his palm, Rafe walked to the driver’s side. Maybe he didn’t need to take her to Davis. Maybe she’d be safe here. But could he risk it?

No. He slid behind the wheel and started the car, leashing the resentment churning inside him. He could tell himself he might feel the same caution for any client who was possibly being tailed by the mob, but this wasn’t just any client. This was Kit.

And as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t deny that seeing his old jersey had hit him hard. Or why.

The connection he and Kit had shared had been deeper than any he’d ever had. An ember had ignited in the secret part of him only ever occupied by Kit. A part he’d thought erased by years and resentment.

Inches away from her, webbed by her faint scent and the torturous images that had seared his brain moments before, Rafe knew she still owned that tiny place inside him. He hated that little revelation, but he couldn’t ignore the fact that she might also be in danger. So much for avoiding his past.

Arousal fired little points along her nerves. Rafe had nearly kissed her. Even now, hours later on the return trip to Oklahoma City from Davis, that thought hammered through Kit’s mind. With every pulsing sense in her, she wished he had.

Thank goodness he hadn’t.

Smoky midnight swirled around them. Phil Collins crooned on Rafe’s state-of-the-art car stereo. Kit ran a hand over the Corvette’s buttery soft tan leather seat, not surprised that Rafe drove such a speedster. He’d always said he had a need for speed. As they traveled north on I-35, leaving behind the south side of Oklahoma City, lights from the highway and roadside businesses flashed by in a blur. For the late hour, there was still a fair amount of traffic.

She glanced over her shoulder, as she had every couple of minutes since they’d lost the tail outside her neighborhood a few hours ago.

It wasn’t the dread of seeing another car following them that had her nerves feeling raw and exposed. It wasn’t the compact space and tight lines of the Corvette’s interior that made her feel…cornered. Or the fact that Rafe had barely spoken since they’d left Tony’s parents. It was the way Rafe’s body heat formed a wall against her arm, the way his dark, rich scent stroked her senses.

It was the fact that she couldn’t stop thinking about that split second in the hallway when memories had crashed over both of them, when naked hunger had tautened Rafe’s features.

Only he had ever looked at her that way. Other men had said they wanted her, but none of them had ever looked at her as if they had to have her. For that one heartbeat of time, she’d wanted to fall into his arms, call back what they’d shared. And that was dangerous.

She was no more willing to give up her independence now than she had been in college. At fourteen, she’d been handling responsibilities most women didn’t handle until they were twenty-one, and she wasn’t going to give that up. Couldn’t, really.

The truth was she’d never gotten close to any man, until Rafe. Or since Rafe, she thought ruefully, staring over her shoulder again.

Her gaze shifted to his chiseled profile then dropped to his mouth. During their trip to Davis and the visit with Tony’s parents, she’d managed to dodge thoughts of that near kiss. But now…

Her nerves were shot, and she’d been in Rafe’s company less than twelve hours. Again she turned, searching the play of shadow and streetlights for a car that might have been behind them too long.

“I can’t believe I was really being followed,” she murmured, wishing she weren’t so aware of his lean fingers on the steering wheel, the broad hand that rested on his jeans-clad thigh.

He changed lanes, a smile in his voice. “If you’re going to look for a tail, it’s best if you aren’t too obvious.”

“Oh.” She faced front.

“Keep an eye out either by looking in your rearview or your side mirror.”

Her gaze sliced to the right. Illuminated by the high-powered roadside lighting, the side mirror showed a beat-up pickup pulling a horse trailer and following some distance behind. A sporty red car passed them on the left. “Maybe you could teach me some things. I mean, about how to spot a tail and how to lose one.”

“Sure.” Was it her imagination or did his voice tighten?

He’d been reserved since they’d left her house, answering questions when she asked, but not making conversation. She should probably follow his lead.

The effortless way he’d lost the men who followed them reassured Kit. And grated on her at the same time.

As long as she was with him, she didn’t have to worry that she would lead Alexander’s men anywhere, but she wouldn’t, couldn’t be with Rafe all the time.

Her body thrummed with awareness of his rich, earthy scent. She fixed her gaze on the side mirror, glad when they exited onto I-235 North in the center of the city.

Seeing his old basketball jersey had affected her like a kick to the stomach. Brought back the memory of the look on his face when he’d found her in that shirt so long ago. Surprise, then a slow-curling, wicked smile as he’d tumbled her onto his rumpled bed. That had been the first, and only, time she’d initiated their lovemaking.