The Bride's Secrets. Debra Webb
she was behind the wheel.
She hit the ignition as J.T. collapsed into the passenger seat.
Tires squealed as she spun out of the parking slot.
“What the hell did you do to me?”
From the corner of her eye she watched him shake his head in an attempt to clear it.
He wouldn’t be happy when she told him about the tranquilizer.
She’d needed him cooperative; otherwise no plan would work. A drug-induced state of unconsciousness had been the fastest and most efficient method to ensure his continued solidarity.
“I can’t really talk right now.” She weaved into the right lane as the street widened to four lanes. What she needed was traffic. It was Saturday night—shouldn’t be that difficult to find as soon as they were out of the old warehouse district.
A glance in the rearview mirror warned that their unwanted company had caught up.
Sensing her tension, J.T. turned to peer over his left shoulder.
“I hope you have a plan B.”
She shot him a look. “There’s always plan G.” Then she pulled the Glock out of her waistband.
Cutting the steering wheel left, she slid between two vehicles. Veering then to the right, she put several cars between hers and the enemy.
She was betting they wouldn’t pull out the firepower in the open like this, but a woman could never be too sure when it came to an unknown enemy.
Deep blending was the way to go.
Two traffic lights ahead the marquis of a movie theater provided exactly the opportunity she was looking for.
The digital numbers of the dashboard’s clock indicated it was just past midnight. Perfect timing. The late movie would be purging its audience into the crowd of teenagers who liked hanging out in the parking lot.
Plenty of cover for blending in.
She took a hard right onto the property that sported a twelve-screen theater, numerous fastfood hot spots and a chain superstore. Speeding across the lot, she selected a lane of parking slots. Pulling in as close to the theater entrance as possible, she shut off the engine and reached for her door.
“Let’s go.”
Thankfully he didn’t argue.
Rounding the hood of her car, she shoved the Glock into her bag, then wrapped her arm around J.T.’s and merged into the milling crowd.
With her free hand she finger combed her long hair. It was soaked, as were her clothes. Her shoes squished with every step. The kids she bumped into noticed, gave her the death ray.
They just didn’t know.
As she and J.T. moved in closer to the building, she grabbed a baseball cap from an innocent bystander. The crowd made it easy. The kid who owned the cap had made it even easier by stuffing it bill first into his waistband at the small of his back.
Pushing through the loitering crowd, Eve made her way to the side of the building next to the main entrance, pushed J.T. against the wall and dropped her bag to the ground. She peeled off her T-shirt and let it join her bag on the pavement.
His gaze instantly zeroed in on her breasts, where the camisole she wore had glued to her skin like an extra layer. A zing of desire shot through her veins.
Not the time.
With a flick of her wrist, she twisted her hair up and clamped the cap atop the blond mass.
“They’re coming,” J.T. muttered as he gazed at some point beyond her.
“Yeah, I know.” She planted her palms against the wall on either side of him and leaned in. “Keep your eyes open. Let me know when they’re inside.”
Then she planted her lips on his.
Chapter Four
Two weeks.
Fourteen days and nights.
J.T. had yearned to feel her lips against his…had ached to touch her…to hold her.
He forgot all about her order. His eyes closed. His arms went around her. The move was pure instinct.
He’d fallen so fast, had loved her so damned much.
But that had been before.
Before she’d stood him up on the most important day of their lives.
His eyes opened.
Fury firmed his resolve.
She tensed, sensing his change.
He clutched her waist. Pushed her a few inches away.
“Who the hell are you?” he muttered, his voice thick with the need throttling through his body.
“Did they go inside?”
He blinked. Her focus was on the now…the situation. He should have known he was the only one affected by the meshing of lips.
Stupid, J.T. Truly stupid.
The idea that bullets had been flying around them as they’d fled that warehouse suddenly bobbed to the surface of all the questions and emotions churning in his confused brain.
He cut his attention to the building’s front entrance. Three of the five who’d followed them from the dock pushed their way into the theater’s lobby. “Three just went inside.”
“One or more will be sticking with my car.” She kept her gaze carefully locked on his. “You don’t see number five?”
“Wait.” His gaze clocked the movements of an older man, one who definitely didn’t fit in with the teenage crowd all around them. “He’s moving in the opposite direction.”
“Excellent.”
She grabbed his hand and started cutting through the crowd. He shouldered between the bodies, staying close behind her.
He had questions for her. So damned many questions. Those would have to wait until they were out of immediate danger.
Could she be telling the truth?
Why would these guys be after him?
He’d worked a couple of Colby Agency assignments with two of the other investigators but nothing on his own yet. He’d made no enemies in that short time or on either of those assignments. His former career in insurance had been as a claims investigator. He’d certainly made no enemies there. His work had been straightforward—review the closed files and ensure that the i’s were dotted and the t’s crossed.
J.T. shook off the situation analysis. Tried to think clearly about the moment.
No matter how he weighed it, he shouldn’t be here with Eve. What was he doing following her? Whatever she was into had nothing to do with him. Obviously she’d drugged him. The knock on the head wouldn’t have dulled his reactions to this degree.
When he would have stalled to demand more answers, she took a left, headed for a couple of teenagers loading into a minivan.
“Hey.”
The kid climbing behind the wheel looked back.
“Can you give us a ride?”
J.T. started to advise Eve not to waste her time. The driver looked ready to bolt. As he well should. Giving rides to strangers was a bad idea.
“I’ll give you a hundred bucks,” Eve tacked on.
The driver exchanged a look with his passenger, who’d already climbed into the van.
Eve pulled a couple of bills from her shoulder bag. “Two if you hurry.”
The driver stared at the