Unbridled

“Might be a good idea. At least they could make sure the parking attendant doesn’t think sleeping with his feet up on the counter is part of his job description.”

“How did you know this was my car?”

“Educated guess.” He gestured toward the luxury vehicle. “But that’s not what drew me over this way. I’d planned to come up to the office.”

She grimaced at him as he stepped to the side, revealing the flat front tire.

“Great,” she said, exasperated, wondering if her auto service could gain access to the garage.

“That wouldn’t be so bad,” Carter said, “if the other tire wasn’t flat, too. One flat tire, fate. Two? Someone wanted to make it difficult for you to get home tonight.”

Laney slowly walked toward the front of the car, considering the damage.

“See that,” Carter said, pointing to the sidewall. “Looks like a knife slash.”

Laney shuddered, feeling as if a knife-wielding stranger was in front of her instead of long gone.

“What’s this?” she said.

She leaned forward, spotting a note under the wiper, not unlike the one she’d received in the mail a couple of days ago. She pulled it out.

“Drop the MacGregor case. Now.” Next to the words was the number two.

“That doesn’t look good to me,” Carter said, his voice low and gravelly. “That doesn’t look good to me at all.”

Chapter Six

AN HOUR LATER, the police had come and gone, assuring her that the detective who had taken her earlier report would be informed of the latest development; Laney’s tires had been replaced by her auto service, and Carter stood facing her once again, blessedly alone. And without a briefcase being swung at his head.

He resisted the desire to reach out and push back a few strands of errant hair. Aw, hell, who was he kidding? He’d never been the best at restraint, and he saw no real benefit in starting now. She appeared shaken, in need of protection. Yet just under the surface shone hard steel, telling him that she was much stronger than she looked. It would take more, much more, than a couple of threatening notes to knock her over.

Laney looked down but didn’t pull away as he rubbed the baby-soft strands of her hair between his thumb and forefinger. Then he brushed them away from her milky cheek and tucked them behind her ear, wondering at the delicate shell and the sight of his dark hand against her light skin.

“Thanks for staying,” she said quietly. “I really appreciate it.” She briefly bit the side of her bottom lip and looked around, apparently still seeing ghosts. “But if it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer not to spend another minute more than I have to in this garage.”

Carter smiled. “I understand.” He gestured to his bike. “Let me follow you home.”

“That’s not necessary,” she said a little too quickly, then her gaze lingered on his. “Really, it isn’t. I don’t think I’ll be finding another note tonight.” She looked into the cavernous depths of the garage. “At least I hope not.”

“I’d feel better if I saw you home. Where do you live?”

She told him. He raised a brow at the downtown address. He’d expected something in one of the swanky Texas subdivisions. Not that Dallas didn’t boast more than a few high-rent condos downtown, but somehow he figured her for an estate development.

“Apartment building?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Front doorman?”

“Yes. And closed-circuit cameras and the latest in security.”

That made him feel better. At least marginally. “Good. But let’s get you there first. Have you had anything to eat?”

“What? Um, no.”

He opened the driver’s door of her car, indicating that she should climb in.

“Lead the way,” he said.

WOULD HE WANT to come in? Laney wondered. Did she dare invite him up?

Her palms grew damp against the steering wheel. The classical station her car radio was tuned in to was failing to capture her attention. She drifted into the opposite lane twice since she was more focused on watching Carter in her rearview mirror than on the road in front of her.

Only an hour ago, she had thought he was gone from her life, that he had no plan to follow up on his request for help. Then he’d appeared out of nowhere, nearly scaring the socks off her.

Now he was following her on his Harley, looking particularly hot in his snug black T-shirt and sunglasses, his longish dark hair blowing in the wind. Knowing a bit about his military background, he could have been out for a ride or on his way to the front line.

The thought of him looking after her like this made her hot, and she squeezed her thighs together.

When was the last time she’d felt this way? Had she ever felt this way? She couldn’t say. What she did know was that none of the suited, professional men she’d briefly dated over the past couple of years had made her mouth go this dry. And her heart beat in an uneven rhythm in her chest at the thought that the man on the motorcycle wanted her.

Of course, part of her response could be attributed to her tires being slashed. The violent act had opened her eyes to the seriousness of the threat in a way the first note had not.

Still, she couldn’t think about that now. She seemed utterly incapable of thinking about anything but the man behind her.

She pulled in front of her apartment building and began to roll down her window. To thank him or invite him up—she wasn’t sure which. Instead, he took the decision out of her hands by offering a brief wave and roaring down the street.

Interesting…

Okay, maybe this unpredictability wasn’t as attractive as she’d first thought. She’d never considered he would merely drive off.

Laney watched the back of his bike. Despite her disappointment, she couldn’t help thinking he looked as good going as he did coming. She reluctantly got out of her car, deciding to ask the doorman to arrange for the Infiniti to be parked in the underground garage. She didn’t have the stomach right now to do it herself.

A short time later, she’d showered and was in her robe in her penthouse apartment, considering the contents of her refrigerator, when the apartment intercom buzzed.

“Yes, Roger?” she asked the front doorman.

There was a pause, making her wonder if something else had happened.

“Sorry to bother you, Ms. Cartwright, but there’s a Mr. Southard here to see you.”

Roger’s pause hadn’t been reluctance to share bad news, but grudging acceptance that he’d have to introduce a man who must look incredibly out of place in the upscale lobby.