Harlequin Intrigue, Box Set 1 of 2 (22 page)

He was debating performing a three-point turn to head back to the highway when a black blur ran across the road in front of him. He skidded sideways, narrowly missing a panther—just like last night—and barely managing to keep his car from sliding into the marsh.

The wild cat bounded into the woods on the south side of the road, or at least, the direction Jake
thought
was south. Apparently the endangered panthers weren't quite as rare as they were alleged to be in this area. Either that, or the same animal was stalking him.

He shook his head at that fanciful thought and straightened his car out. He decided to give it a few more minutes before giving up and turning around, so he started forward again. He rounded a curve and slammed his brakes. The Charger shuddered to a stop. Ahead of him, a small, faded wooden sign shaped like an alligator declared the scattering of wooden buildings barely visible through the trees behind it as Mystic Glades.

But he didn't need the sign to tell him he'd arrived at his destination. Just like last night, a little pixie was standing there staring at him. She was in the middle of the road, in a breast-hugging lavender top, her lavender skirts flirting with the tops of her mud-caked combat boots.

And just like last night, she was pointing a rifle at him.

CHAPTER THREE

Faye couldn't believe her dumb luck and incredibly bad timing as she aimed the rifle at the grille of the black Dodge Charger. With the sun peeking through the trees behind her, she couldn't see the driver through the glare on the windshield. But she didn't need to. She'd seen that same car parked on the highway last night as she'd pushed Buddy's ATV along the edge of the trees. She knew exactly who it belonged to—the incredibly hot, but potentially dangerous cop playing at private investigator, Jake Young.

Pointing a gun at him wasn't the smartest decision she could have made. But as soon as she'd seen him rounding the curve she'd panicked. She'd tossed her purple backpack behind a tree and brought her rifle up. Now she had no choice but to “bravado” her way through this second meeting, and hope it was their last.

The engine cut off and the driver's door opened.

“You might as well crank that engine and go back where you came from.” She tightened her fingers around the gun's stock. “This is private property.”

“You own the whole town?” he quipped as he stood.

It took her several seconds to remember what they were talking about after she saw those broad shoulders again and those yummy muscular arms, that rock-hard-looking chest tapering to his narrow, powerful hips.
Yum.
Everything about him, from his dark, wavy hair to the boots he was sensible enough to wear out here, had her fighting not to drool. But now wasn't the right time for those kinds of thoughts. And without knowing
why
he was trying to find Calvin, it was too dangerous for her to even consider being his friend, much less anything more intimate.

What a shame.

She cleared her throat and hoped she hadn't stared long enough for him to realize what she'd been thinking.

“We're all family here in town, more or less,” she said. “I speak for everyone when I tell you that you're not welcome.”
Unfortunately.

“I just want to talk. I need to ask you about Calvin Gillette.” He stepped out from behind the open door.

Faye almost whimpered. In the daylight, he looked even better than he had last night. Too bad she had to make him leave.

“I don't know who you're talking about,” she said, trying to think of how to make him
want
to go. She debated shooting the car's radiator. But that would just disable it and give him an excuse to continue into town. And she really couldn't stomach shooting such a fine car. It was exactly the kind of car she'd have chosen if she could afford one, and if she had a driver's license. All shiny, glossy black with an engine that rumbled and purred like a well-fed cat.

“Now, why don't I believe you?” he said.

“Not my problem.”

His boots crunched on the dirt-and-gravel road. She swung her rifle, following his progress.

“Stop right there,” she ordered.

He continued as if he didn't think she'd really shoot.

Would she? Not normally. But desperate times...

She brought the rifle up to her shoulder and centered a bead on his chest.

He stopped about ten feet away, his eyes narrowing. “How about pointing that thing somewhere else before one of us gets hurt.”

“It's pointed right where I want it. I'm going to start counting. If you don't turn around and get back in your car by the time I reach five—”

He charged forward.

She was so surprised, she froze. He was almost on top of her before she swung the rifle a bit to the left and pulled the trigger, hoping to scare him into stopping.

Bam!
The rifle cracked, barely missing him, just as she'd planned. But instead of stopping, he lunged forward and wrenched the gun out of her hands. He tossed it away and glared down at her, his dark eyes smoldering with fury.

“Give me one reason not to call the police to arrest you for shooting at me. Again,” he demanded.

She craned her neck back to meet his gaze. “Because your cell phone probably won't work out here anyway?”

His eyes narrowed to a dangerous slit.

“Okay, okay.” She held her hands up in a placating gesture. “Don't get so worked up. I wasn't shooting at you. I missed on purpose.”

The skin across his jaw whitened beneath his tan. Obviously the man had no sense of humor and took things far too seriously.

“You're one of those ill-tempered Aries, aren't you?” she accused.

“Sagittarius,” he snapped. “And just how is that relevant to you
shooting at me
?”

His declaration that he was a Sagittarius surprised some of the sting out of his insult that she'd ever miss something she aimed at. She automatically reached for the chain around her neck, but stopped before pulling it out. “No reason. None at all.” She smoothed her hands down her skirts and tried to gauge his mood.

He took another step toward her, bringing them so close she could feel the delicious heat from his body. But her attraction to him was dwarfed by the formidable anger evident in every line in his body. He was as tense as a wound-up spring, ready to snap. And she was, unfortunately, the object of that anger.

If he were anyone else, she'd sweep his legs out from under him and go for her knife hidden in one of the many secret pockets in her skirt. But she realized two things at once. First, he didn't seem like the kind of man to fall for the same trick twice. And second, if she didn't hightail it out of here, right now, she might be in real trouble.

As if sensing she was about to flee, he grabbed for her. She ducked beneath his arms, taking advantage of their difference in height. She ran as if a whole nest of hungry gators was after her.

He shouted some impressively colorful phrases and took off in pursuit, his boots pounding against the hard ground, his long strides rapidly eating up the distance between them. But she figured she had the advantage. He might be spitting mad, but she firmly believed her very survival was at stake, which made her feet fairly fly.

There was only one place of refuge with him so close: his car. She skidded around the open driver's door and jumped inside. She slammed it shut and punched the electric lock just as he reached her and yanked on the handle.

He leaned down, silently promising retribution as he glared at her through the window.

“Open. The. Door.” His deep voice vibrated with anger, pounding through her skin like a hammer against a nail.

She shook her head, her long hair flying around her face. “Not a good idea.”

“Now.”

Did he think making his voice sound as if he wanted to tear her apart with his bare hands would make her more inclined to remove the only barrier between them? That was the problem with a Sagittarius—too unwilling and impatient to slow down and look beneath the surface to all the subtleties of a situation before jumping into action. Then again, sex with a Sagittarius lover, especially with a Libra—like her—could be explosive and make that overbearing nature superhot.

Counting on the fated attraction between their astrological signs to help her out, she aimed her most seductive smile at him.

If anything, his glare got worse.
Oh, dear.

“Open the door, Miss Star.”

“Not until you calm down.” She added a contrite smile this time. But since being contrite wasn't in her nature, she wasn't sure she'd succeeded.

He stared at her for a good long while, as if he was considering all the different ways he could torture her before he killed her. Then he shoved his right hand into his jeans pocket. When he pulled his hand out, he dangled something in the air for her to see.

Keys.

Shoot.
She hadn't even thought about starting the car or she'd have realized the keys weren't in the ignition. She tightened her fingers on the steering wheel, desperately considering her options. Jake Young didn't know her connection to Calvin or he'd have used her legal name instead of “Star.” Which meant, he probably wasn't the man Calvin had called her about when he'd taken that disastrous, ill-fated trip down Alligator Alley on his way to Mystic Glades.

But if Jake wasn't someone from her and Calvin's past trying to find them, who was he working for? Had Calvin gotten into “new” trouble in Naples? Was that why someone was after him this time? It certainly was preferable to the alternative, and might mean that Jake wasn't a threat to
her
. Well, except for the part where he wanted to find Calvin, and she wasn't about to help him do that. And the part where she'd shot a gun around him several times now, and the stubborn man refused to understand she wasn't shooting
at
him.

Sunlight flashed off the keys in Jake's hand as he shook them out, making them jangle as if he were a prison guard about to take an inmate out for his last walk before his execution. Or
hers
. His lips curved in a feral smile. He pointed to the small black rectangle on his key chain—an electronic key fob.

Faye's breath hitched in her chest.

Jake poised his thumb over the unlock button.

She poised
her
finger over the lock button on the inside of the door.

They faced off like two duelers at dawn, trigger fingers cocked and loaded, each waiting for the other to flinch.

Click.
The door unlocked.

Click.
Faye locked it again just as he grabbed the door handle.

Click.

Click.

Click, click, click, click.

His eyes narrowed.

She licked her lips, focusing on that damn thumb of his on the key fob.

Click, thump.
He managed to unlock the door and lift the handle a split second before she pressed her button again.

Game over.

She scrambled over the middle console, cursing when her left knee slammed against the gearshift, sending a sharp jolt of pain down her leg. She fell on the slippery leather of the passenger seat, fumbling for the opposite door handle. She pulled it and shoved the door open.

“Oh no, you don't,” he growled.

She felt, rather than saw, him lean inside to grab her from the driver's side. She pulled herself toward the opening and dived like a world champion. There was a tug against her waist, a ripping sound, and then she was free! She rolled out of the way a split second before he landed on the ground where she'd just been.

She was already splashing through the marsh, sprinting for the cover of trees, when she heard his bellow of rage behind her. It wasn't until she'd entered the much cooler air beneath the pines and knotty cypress, and felt the rush of air against her thighs, that she realized what her narrow escape had cost.

Her skirt.

* * *

J
AKE
STARED
AT
the surprisingly heavy handful of soft purple fabric in his hand. He supposed he should feel guilty. But once he'd recovered from his anger that Faye was getting away, he'd been too busy enjoying the view of her toned, gorgeous backside adorned in a lacy purple thong to do more than sag against his car and enjoy the show.

He shook his head in disgust. How had everything gotten so out of hand? He retrieved the rifle the half-naked pixie had pointed at him earlier, unloaded it and pitched the shells in the back floorboard of his car. Then he carried both the gun and the fluff of material to the tree line where she'd disappeared.

Taking devilish delight in knowing she'd have to spend hours cleaning it to make the gun usable again, he shoved the barrel of the rifle into the muck beside the road. With the butt of the gun standing up in the air, he was about to drape the skirt over the top when something heavy banged against the rifle. He felt along the fabric and found a hidden pocket, a deep pocket that contained the wicked-looking knife she'd threatened him with last night.

The evil-looking blade winked in the sunlight as if it were laughing at him. He carefully ran the rest of the fabric through his hands. But although he found more hidden pockets, they were empty. He draped the ruined skirt over the end of the rifle and added the knife to the rifle rounds in his floorboard.

He got back in his car and headed toward Mystic Glades again. He was just passing the alligator-shaped sign when he spotted something purple off to his left beside a tree. He braked and got out, drawing his pistol in case Faye had somehow managed to get past him to the other side of the road and had another gun hidden...somewhere.

When he reached the tree he discovered it wasn't Faye hiding there. It was a purple backpack that so perfectly matched the color of her outfit it had to be hers. He crouched down and rummaged inside, cataloging the contents: bottles of water, power bars, a towel, a first aid kit. Not the kind of supplies someone generally carried for a “walk.” It was exactly the kind of supplies she might have if she were trying to find someone who'd gotten lost in the wilderness after a car wreck.

* * *

F
AYE
HAD
RUN
a good long way before she'd reached firm, dry ground. After finding a relatively clean-looking log, she perched on it to wait. She didn't know how long she sat there. But from watching the way the shadows moved, she figured it was at least an hour, long enough that Jake would have given up by now and gone back to Naples.

To be certain that he was gone, she'd have preferred to wait longer. But time was a luxury she didn't have. She couldn't afford to waste any daylight. Searching at night had proved far too dangerous, in more ways than one. So she wasn't going to do that again. But how could she search for Calvin if Jake Young was hanging around?

The battery on Calvin's phone had died yesterday while he was talking to her and he was hopelessly lost. He couldn't even give her any landmarks to help her find him. After surviving that horrendous crash, he'd foolishly headed
into
the woods instead of to the highway. His excuse was that he was afraid he was being followed, and he didn't want to risk being seen. But Faye wished he'd at least have waited until she got there. She could have found him that first night and she wouldn't have backtracked last night to restart her search and run into Jake Young.