Fools Rush In (15 page)

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Erin sat sideways, her legs bent and resting on the seat, her back against the car door. Absently, she tugged at her shirt, tucking it more securely around her knees, and glanced over her left shoulder.

"You're going to have a crick in your neck if you don't stop that."

Her head swiveled back, and she aimed a puzzled frown at Max's profile. "What?"

"Looking out the back window every thirty seconds." He glanced at her, his expression wry and mildly chastising. "You've been doing it for the past four hours, ever since we left San Francisco. Don't you think that if those guys were following us you would have spotted them by now?"

Erin grimaced and shifted on the seat. "I can't help it." Her tone was defensive and slightly injured, and as though to prove her claim her eyes darted to the rear window again. "Just knowing that they're out there somewhere, looking for us, gives me the willies. Besides, they could be hanging back, waiting for the right moment."

"I doubt it. If they were back there, they'd have made their move before now. They've had plenty of chances in the past four hours."

"You can't be sure of that," she argued.

The edge to her voice drew Max's gaze again, and his hands tightened around the steering wheel. Even in the weak light from the dash he could see the lines of strain in her face and the stark look in her eyes. And despite her casual posture, he knew that her body was as taut as a wound spring.

He reached over and patted her knee and gave her a reassuring smile. "Relax. There's no point in borrowing trouble."

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to." Erin straightened her legs and shifted to sit facing the front. She stared out the windshield at the arid, moonlit landscape and willed herself to relax, but the prickly feeling down the back of her neck and between her shoulder blades wouldn't go away. Looking down at her lap, she saw that she was unconsciously twisting her fingers together.

Snorting in disgust, she jerked her hands apart and raked one through her hair. "If only I had been able to reach David, I'd feel better about this whole thing," she blurted out.

Assuming a supercilious expression, she mimicked in a nasty singsong, "I'm sorry, I can't come to the phone right now, but if you'll leave your name and number, I'll get back to you as soon as I can." She snorted again. "I swear, if I hear my dear brother's voice giving that canned spiel one more time, I'll scream. Or better yet, I'll leave an obscene message on his damned answering machine."

Max laughed. "That ought to get his attention, although I think it's against the law."

Erin turned her head and shot him a sour look. "Somehow, at the moment that fails to scare me."

She sighed and drummed her fingers on the armrest. "Darn David. Where could he be?"

"Don't worry. He'll show up. And in the meantime we'll keep looking and calling," Max assured her. "Now why don't you do me a favor and check if there are any of those sandwiches left. I'm hungry."

"What, again? You've already eaten four."

Max flashed her a grin. "I've gotta keep my strength up if I'm going to go tearing around the country with a wild redhead," he teased. "Besides, I'm just a growing boy."

"Heaven forbid," Erin remarked dryly, eyeing his large, lean frame.

She half suspected that Max was simply trying to lighten the mood and take her mind off the situation. Nevertheless, grateful for something to do, she rummaged through the sack of sandwiches the hotel had provided. "You're in luck. There are two left. And—" she felt along the floorboard for the soft drinks they had picked up at a convenience store "—one lukewarm cola."

"Great. Divvy it up."

Erin unwrapped a sandwich and handed it to him. After taking a bite of her own she popped the tab off the canned drink and sipped. "Yeecch! That's awful." Shuddering, she shoved the cola into Max's hand.

"Yeah, but it's wet," he said with a chuckle, and chuga-lugged half of it, washing down the sandwich he had demolished in four bites. Without a word, Erin divided her sandwich in two and handed him half.

For several minutes they rode in easy silence, eating their meager meal and passing the can back and forth between them.

"Unless you want me to fall asleep at the wheel, you'd better talk to me," Max said finally. "That little rest back at the hotel perked me up for a while, but the way I feel now I could use another ten or twelve hours of sleep."

Erin glanced at him, then looked out the side window, smiling into the darkness.
Another sidetracking ploy,
she thought, feeling a rush of warmth in her ches
t. Subtle, thoughtful, caring. Of course, it was unnecessary
, she told herself. She was a bit on edge, true, but she could cope. Still... it was nice.

"Okay. What do you want to talk about?" she asked, playing along.

"Tell me about your work. Elise said that until recently you were working in the Middle East."

"Yes, for a construction firm. They were building a power plant, and I acted as translator between the site manager and the local officials."

"How many languages do you speak?"

"I'm fluent in five—six, if you count English—and conversant in three more."

Max produced a low whistle between his teeth. "Amazing. With that kind of ability, you must have worked in a lot of different countries."

"Yes, I have. Before the Middle East job I spent six months with the U.S. embassy in West Germany, and before that I did some industrial translation in Japan." Erin turned sideways on the seat again and looped her left arm around the headrest. "Currently I'm translating a very hot French novel into English. It's the kind of job I can do anywhere, which is what I take when I want to spend some time stateside."

"Sounds like an interesting way to earn a living." Max glanced at Erin and smiled when he saw her lean her head on the seat back and snuggle her cheek against the soft ve-lour upholstery.

"Mmm, yes, it is." She blinked drowsily, and Max's smile grew at the way her words slurred together. "Very interesting. But the best part is, I get to see the world," she managed over a stifled yawn.

He asked a few more questions. Erin's answers came more and more slowly, until finally her voice trailed away and she drifted off to sleep. Max glanced at her, his face full of tenderness and satisfaction. Very carefully, he reached across the seat, pulled the empty can from her loose grasp and dumped it into the sack.

As Max returned his attention to the highway his expression grew serious. The only sounds were the incessant drone of the engine and the hum of the tires on the pavement. The desert spread out in all directions, silvery in the moonlight, the sparse clumps of vegetation dark shadows against the luminous landscape. In front and behind the car the highway lay like a long narrow blue ribbon floating on the shimmering sand.

Traffic was light and spread out. Ahead in the distance Max could see three sets of glowing red taillights, and the rearview mirror revealed another half dozen vehicles strung out over several miles, moving silently through the night. The scene was peaceful and serene, non-threatening, yet despite his assurances to Erin, Max kept a close watch on the cars in the mirror and tensed every time one overtook them, not relaxing his death grip on the wheel until it had passed.

Erin was still asleep when they reached Bakersfield. Max was bone-weary himself by that time and stopped at the first decent-looking motel he saw. When he had registered and driven around to the room he shook Erin awake and led her inside.

The room was typical of ten thousand others in chain motels across the country, the determinedly cheerful decor garish, impersonal and showing signs of wear.

Max placed Erin's suitcase on the luggage rack and turned to find her dubiously eyeing the two double beds. Though startling, he knew the bright yellow and turquoise bedspreads were not the cause of the intense scrutiny.

"If you want to use the bathroom first, it's right through there," he said, hiding a grin.

"Uh... no. You go ahead." Sitting down on the edge of one of the beds, she reached for the telephone. "I'm going to call David again."

"Okay. I won't be long."

When Max returned a few minutes later Erin was still sitting on the bed, only now she was frowning and nibbling on the tip of her index finger. It was not, he had learned in the short time he'd known her, a good sign.

"Still no luck, I take it."

Erin glanced up and made a face. "No. I got the stupid answering machine again. I'll try again in the morning before we leave."

Yawning his agreement, Max sat down on the bed opposite her and flopped backward, stretching his arms up over his head.

Erin shot to her feet. "Well, uh... I guess we'd better get some sleep if we're going to get an early start."

Through slitted eyes, Max watched with interest as she pawed through the suitcase and extracted a cosmetic bag and an intriguingly sheer nightgown.

When the bathroom door clicked shut behind her he rose wearily and stripped down to his shorts. He hooked his thumbs under the elastic waistband to remove them, too, then stopped, debating a moment.
Oh, what the hell.
He'd be up and dressed before she woke up anyway,
he told himself, and peeled off the red bikini briefs, tossing them on top of the jeans and shirt in the chair. Besides, he'd never been able to sleep wearing clothes.

He turned out the lights and slipped into the bed, pulling the sheet up to his armpits. Sighing as his body went lax, he stared up at the darkened ceiling and listened to the small sounds coming from the bathroom.

Fate
, he decided wryly, certainly took odd twists and turns. Just a few days ago he'd been wrapped up in his business, dashing around Europe making contacts and setting up deals. A bit restless, perhaps, beneath the frantic activity, but he'd been fairly content with his life.

Until Erin.

With amusement he knew that, just three days ago, if anyone had told him that he'd be jackrabbiting around the country with a ravishing redhead, dodging bullets and playing detective, he'd have called the person crazy. And yet, here he was. And if it weren't for the danger to Erin, there was no place he'd rather be.

Well.. .on second thought
, he amended with a grin, there was that little isolated beach on Antigua. He could picture Erin, lying on the white sand in a tiny bikini... him rubbing oil over her creamy skin... unfastening the top... touching her breasts—

"Oh, Lord." Max groaned and squeezed his eyes shut as the image created a stirring warmth in his loins.

At that moment the bathroom door squeaked. Turning his head at the sound, he opened his eyes, and his breath caught. For an instant before she doused the light Erin stood in the doorway, clad in the short, diaphanous gown, her lovely body silhouetted against the brightly lit room at her back.

Max gritted his teeth to stifle another groan. He lay rigid, his fists clenched at his side, his breathing shallow and painful, and listened to her pad across the worn shag carpet. He caught a tantalizing whiff of scented talc as she passed by and slipped into the other bed.

"Good night, Max." Her voice floated to him in the darkness, soft and warm, a little breathless.

His body throbbed, and his heart pounded. Several seconds ticked by before he gained enough control to answer, and even then all he managed was a hoarse whisper. "Good night, Erin."

He heard what he thought was a sigh, and then her bed creaked and the sheets rustled.

God in heaven, his erotic imaginings had been bad enough, he thought desperately. But knowing she was sleeping in that wispy little nothing, not three feet away, was sheer torture. He might as well have left his shorts on; he sure as hell didn't have a chance of getting any sleep.

Barefoot, wearing only a pair of low-slung jeans, Max strolled from the bathroom, vigorously toweling his wet hair. When he caught sight of Erin he came to an abrupt halt. He stood perfectly still with his arms still upraised, and stared, his arrested expression filled with awe and longing. With the total abandon of a child, she lay sprawled on the bed on her stomach. Her arms were flung wide, as though she had collapsed face forward, and her body was as limp and yielding as a cooked noodle. Her fiery curls were a wild tangle, her face slack and rosy with sleep. Sometime while he'd been showering Erin had kicked the light covers off, and they now lay in a wad across her feet. Her lilac shorty nightgown was bunched up around her shoulder blades, exposing a tempting expanse of creamy skin and the elegant curve of her spine above the sheer bikini panties that cupped her bottom. The gown was askew, one thin strap dropping over her shoulder. Below, the gaping armhole allowed a tantalizing view of the outer curve of her breast.