Page 8 of Toxic Truth

“My dog. Mean mother. He’ll rip out anyone’s throat on my command, including whoever’s been following you. No more questions.” He shook his hands. “Your foot here. Now.”

The moment she’d plopped on the saddle, she grabbed the horn for dear life. Each breath she panted out fogged the air.

“Cover your mouth.” He showed her how. “Otherwise, you might faint, and I’ll have trouble hanging on to you.”

She sneered.

He lowered his face to hide his smile. How he could find humor at a time like this wouldn’t have made sense to the average person. Being former military, he understood what danger did to a person. During operations, he and his buddies would crack dumb jokes then dissolve into hysterical laughter. Facing death wasn’t doable without some levity to break the tension. Somehow, ribbing each other made everyone feel invincible even though they understood how foolish that thinking was.

Seated behind, he wrapped the blanket around her shoulders then rested his arm on her waist. “I have you.” Liking her weight and warmth against him, he touched his cheek to her hair. “Try to relax.”

She grasped his arm. “Please tell me we’re not riding back to your cabin.”

That would be dumb. “We’re going in the opposite direction. This might take a while.”

“Why?” She dug her nails into his hand.

A little extra pressure and she’d draw blood. He tensed to keep from complaining. “I swear everything is all right and will stay that way.”

“Where are we going?”

“The best place to get rid of the device.”

“Such as?” She broke her death grip on him then twisted to see his face. “An abandoned mine shaft?”

Always a good choice, except there weren’t any around here. “The ones I know about are too far. Your glasses…” They hung lopsided on her nose. He straightened them, surprised at how cute they looked on her. “Better?”

She blinked rapidly then squinted. “Except for your thumbprint on the lens.”

Try to be nice… “Jeezus priest, woman, you are fucking hard to please.”

Her mouth shook. Rather than cry, she nodded. “I am, aren’t I?”

Warmth flooded him at her gentle admission, doing miraculous things to his nuts and dick, preparing them for some serious action.

Like that’s going to happen. They were escaping hired killers, not enjoying a date.

“Sorry.” She searched his eyes. “I’m kind of unglued, you know?”

He did.

“I’ll try to be less demanding, okay?”

“Promises, promises.” He arched one eyebrow then winked.

Smiling softly, she settled against him, calmed as he’d wanted.

They rode in silence, nothing except pattering rain, whistling wind, and Caesar’s occasional snorts intruding upon the peace. Pine and other vegetation scented the air, creating a wondrous fragrance and an altogether nice experience.

Despite the numerous women he’d dated, he’d never shared a moment like this with them. There’d been booze to drink, dancing to enjoy, concerts, rodeos, and other events to indulge in, always followed by sex until he and the women in question couldn’t think, breathe, or move.

He tightened his hold on Kenzie.

She looked over her shoulder at him.

Before she could ask anything he didn’t want to answer, he lied, “The path’s bumpy here. Don’t want you jostling around if Caesar’s footing gets dicey.” A lame excuse, but the best he could offer on the fly.

“If that’s the case, shouldn’t we walk so Caesar doesn’t have the extra weight to carry?” She squeezed his hand. “I don’t want him hurting his legs.”

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