Janelle Denison - A Wicked Seduction

But she knew better than to be conned, no matter how convincing his act. She wouldn’t underestimate the power of his charms and attempts to persuade her. “Oh, now that’s original. If I had a dollar for every time I heard that line as a cop I’d be a very rich girl.”

He stared at her for a moment in amazement. “You’re a cop?”

“I was,” she said, seeing no reason why she shouldn’t answer his question. Between tonight’s two-hour jaunt and tomorrow’s long drive, they’d be confined to this vehicle for fifteen hours, and she didn’t mind making polite talk as opposed to putting up with brooding silence. “I quit the force two years ago.”

“To pursue a career in bounty hunting?”

More astonishment, and the way he was looking at her…taking in her ponytail, her features, then taking quick inventory of the rest of her body before returning to her face. She suppressed the warm glow that followed in the wake of his thorough assessment.

“I work for my brother as a P.I.” Putting the Suburban in gear, she pulled away from the curb and eased onto the road. “I specialize in missing persons and abductions, but I do the occasional bail recovery on the side to make extra money.”

He looked back at his house as they drove away and left his sanctuary behind. “Bail recovery?” He snorted derisively. “This is kidnapping, you know.”

“Kidnapping?” She rolled her eyes and flipped on the air-conditioning to low, welcoming the cool rush of air that billowed across her skin. “Not according to the information you just read.”

“I’m not that guy!” he said through gritted teeth.

Would he never give up? “I looked through your wallet in your duffle,” she told him. “Not only do you say you’re Dean Colter, so does your license.”

He blew out a frustrated stream of breath. “I am Dean Colter, but I’m not the guy in that mug shot.”

“Oh, I believe you,” she said drolly as she headed out of the residential area and back to the interstate. “But it’s the judge you’re gonna have to convince, not me.”

His lip curled sullenly and, unable to do otherwise, he settled back into his seat. “Great,” he muttered as he stared out the window moodily. “Just great.”

She made a right-hand turn up the I-5 on-ramp and moved over to the fast lane, leaving Seattle behind. “Why don’t you just relax and enjoy the trip?”

“It’s kinda hard to relax when these damned handcuffs are stabbing into my back and my arms are falling asleep,” he grumbled.

Poor baby. “If you flatten your palms against the seat it’ll relieve some of the pressure.”

“And if you took off the handcuffs it would relieve some of the pain.”

“Sorry,” she said, not sounding the least bit contrite. “But I can’t risk my safety for your comfort.”

He heaved a gut-deep sigh. “So I’ve got to be trussed up like this all the way to San Francisco?”

“Pretty much.” She reached for the trip ticket she’d tucked into the visor, which mapped her drive back to San Francisco and the places she planned to stop along the way. Giving it a cursory glance while watching the road, she pegged her next destination as Kelso, Washington. “I’ve been on the road since six this morning. We’ll be stopping in a few hours to get a hotel for the night, and I’ll let you stretch your arms then. We’ll get something to eat, too.”

“A free meal. At least I get something out of this trip.” The slightest bit of humor had returned to his voice, as if he’d resigned himself to the inevitable. “And just be warned, I skipped lunch today and I’m starved.”

The way he said the word starved, with a low, rumbling growl in the back of his throat, brought a whole new meaning to the word.

Apparently, his appetite matched her own.

BEING HAULED to San Francisco by a female bounty hunter wasn’t exactly the vacation Dean had envisioned, but as the chasm between Seattle and him widened, he decided he had no choice but to improvise and be adventurous.

Spontaneity. Relaxation. Being impetuous. All nuances of his old life he missed. That had been part of the reason he’d decided to take a vacation in the first place, based on the startling realization that he was fast on his way to becoming a workaholic like his father had been. Putting the company before himself was something he’d sworn he’d never do, yet he’d spent the past three years doing exactly that, to the extent that he was teetering on the verge of burnout. Not only did he need the time away from work to think about the fate of Colter Traffic Control and his future, but it had been too long since he’d put himself, and his desires, first.

And there was no doubt he desired Jo Sommers. Despite having no idea how he’d gotten himself into this mess, this sexy, spirited woman intrigued him. Aroused him. Fascinated him. And it had been a long time since any woman had captured his interest so thoroughly.

Whether he liked it or not, he was on this wild ride for the duration, until they reached San Francisco, his attorney was contacted, and the authorities realized they had the wrong guy and cleared his name. He couldn’t deny that the driver’s license and information that Jo had shown him was his, but the guy in the mug shot was not him, though there was enough of a resemblance to draw the conclusion that they were one and the same.

This had to be a huge misunderstanding of some sort, one he obviously couldn’t explain or find a logical reason for, but it was still a mistake. One he wanted to remedy. And he had two days to figure out a way to convince Jo that he was an innocent man. The challenge was more than he could resist.

He might have lost his vacation, but he’d just gained something far more exciting and fun. The way he figured things, he had two options during this trip—resist or surrender—and being a willing and accommodating captive for Jo would be a far more pleasurable experience. To his advantage, no one would miss him or worry about his absence, since everyone believed he was off to the mountains for a week of quiet and solitude.

He was a guy who’d always made the best of a bad situation. This mishap would be no exception.

But first, he needed to make amends for his earlier grumpy behavior. Resting his head on the back of the seat, he let it roll to the side until he was looking at Jo’s profile. The sun was just beginning to set on the horizon and the pastel hues made her smooth complexion shimmer with radiant warmth.

“I want to apologize for my attitude,” he said, breaking the silence that had descended over the cab the past half hour. “I’m sure after I’m cleared of all charges and they find the guy who impersonated me I’ll find this abduction all very humorous.”

She slanted him a dubious look. “You think so?”

“It’s what I keep telling myself.” He blinked lazily. “You really do have my full cooperation. I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I can’t prove my innocence until we reach the authorities, so I plan to enjoy the ride.” And you.

The corners of her mouth curled upward, drawing his gaze to her full, luscious lips. “I like your new attitude.”

“I like your smile,” he countered honestly.

Said smile faltered self-consciously. “Thank you.”

He suppressed a grin of his own. “You’re welcome.”

He couldn’t help notice the flush on her skin. His unexpected compliment had caught her off guard, and he admitted he liked having that slight advantage. “Are you married?”

She paused, absently ran her tongue across her bottom lip, then admitted, “No.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised.” When she gave him a quick, care-to-explain look, he shrugged his rapidly stiffening shoulders and said, “It’s hard to imagine a husband allowing his wife to work as a bounty hunter.”