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“Is this your getaway car?”

“It is.”

“The next time you rob a bank, I’ll be your getaway driver.”

“What’s your going rate?”

“Oh, for you, I’d cut you a break and let it go for a cool mil.”

He nods, as if thinking this over. “You’re right. I would consider that a good deal.”

“Take him for two,” Joe chimes in over his shoulder. Cain almost smiles. His lips thin before the smile reaches his eyes.

Almost.

“So this is how you got to my place so quickly. You must’ve been driving like over a hundred miles an hour.”

He doesn’t reply, only gives me a slow, lazy shrug, like driving at the speed of light is seriously no big deal.

“So why so much slower now?”

He doesn’t answer. Joe speaks up from the passenger seat. “We’ve got cargo now.”

Cargo?

Oh.

Oh.

Me. I’m cargo.

Well then.

I think as a woman I should be offended by that, but somehow, I feel it’s almost sweet.

And it’s definitely something I could use to my advantage.

It’s warm and comfortable here. I lean back against the seat, my senses overwhelmed with the rich scent of leather. I took ibuprofen from the first aid kit before we left to dull the pain, and it’s kicked in, my bruises and scrapes no longer throbbing.

I’ve had bullshit luck with this kinda thing lately. Between the accident and this, I’m almost ready for a nice, boring day in the office—

Who’m I kidding? I’d stab myself in the eye with a pencil.

What I’m really ready for is some adventure that doesn’t involve Violet Price, punching bag, as the main attraction.

I’m floating, and it’s comfortable here, and for once in a very, very long time, I know that no one’s going to hurt me.

“Do not fall asleep!”

I snap to attention, my eyes flying open. The next second, a surge of adrenaline powers through me and I glare at Cain in the rearview mirror.

“I’m not sleeping.”

“You aren’t now.”

I can’t believe I ever thought of seducing a guy like him. I would strangle him in his sleep.

We pull into the long driveway that leads to his garage. The house is alight. His team’s awake.

I want to sleep. I was exhausted before all this, and now I’m at the point of no return. I’m so tired I could cry.

I open the door and shiver with a gust of night wind. I wrap my arms around myself and follow them both into the house.

It’s different tonight than it was last night. Tonight, even though it’s way past midnight, the place is teeming with people. Even Alma, his housekeeper, is in the kitchen in her robe, putting a kettle on the stove.

“Good evening,” she says to me pleasantly. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Tea would be great, thank you.”

In the kitchen, right up next to the counter, are large, padded, spindle chairs. They’re so fun, they make me want to play music on a jukebox and wear a poodle skirt. But right now, every one of them is occupied by one of Cain’s employees.

A bowl of popcorn, nothing left but kernels, sits on one side of the counter, and on the other, there’s a large platter of cheese and a fruit tray pretty well picked over beside empty pizza boxes and energy drink empties. Laptops and notebooks are scattered about, and in one corner of the room, a series of monitors are set up.

Cain grabs a mug. Strange he doesn’t let his house help get it.

Something’s changed between us. Something… shifted… from the very first moment his lips touched my skin back in my apartment.

Hell, it was before that.

From the very first time I stared into his eyes after he’d ended a man’s life.

“How do you take your tea?”

“Dash of milk, please.”

He places it in front of me while the milk still swirls, and I sip. It’s so hot it scalds the roof of the mouth, but somehow it’s exactly what I need right now. I wrap my hands around the ceramic mug, the heat of it warming me through. One small comfort on a day fraught with violence.

Cain clears his throat. The room stills.

“For those who haven’t met her yet, this is Violet Price, a new contractor who will be working for Master Enterprises in the short-term. Violet’s skilled in kickboxing and knife throwing, speaks multiple languages, and will be a valuable asset to our team.”

I look around the small group. The man who hit my car last night isn’t here.

A few of them murmur greetings and some nod to me.

“Violet and I are in pursuit of someone we believe kidnapped my sister. We have reason to believe the man’s a serial rapist who intends on abusing, possibly even fatally hurting, Skylar and that the same person has hinted at coming after her next. Tonight, she had an intruder in her apartment. She’ll be here indefinitely, while we search for Skylar.”

I take another sip of tea, not quite as hot now as it was before.


Tags: Jane Henry Master's Protege Suspense