Page 16 of Fire on the Moon

Chapter Six

Zane wrapped his hands around the wheel to stop himself from jumping out of the car and starting to beat the bushes looking for Francesca.

Finally he spotted the top of her head as she peeked out from behind a low sea grape tree. When she spotted his car, she dashed along the path and leaped into the passenger seat. As he sped away, he saw movement in the rearview mirror and spotted the bad guys crossing the road, pounding back toward their own transportation. But when they jumped into the car and tried to follow, the heavy vehicle listed to the left, the rims of the tires clunking against the paving.

He saw two of them leap out again and pull their weapons, but he was already too far away with too many trees and bushes in the way for a decent shot.

Zane cut his speed as he headed toward the park exit.

Francesca’s teeth were chattering, and he realized he’d sent her down to the windy beach in just her sundress.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

“I’m okay,” she answered, but he knew it was a lie.

“They can’t follow us now,” he said as he pulled onto a side street. “They’ve got to change two tires before they get on the road again.”

“That’s good, but I thought you were going to get us both killed,” she gasped out.

“It was a calculated risk, and it paid off.” he shot back as he put a mile between himself and the park before pulling under the shade of a frangipani tree that was next to an open field.

Now that Francesca was in the car, he should keep his hands firmly on the wheel. But he was unable to stop himself from reaching for her and pulling her into his arms.

Her skin felt icy as he ran his hands up and down her arms.

“Sorry I scared you.”

She pressed her face against his shoulder. “I’d be dead now if it weren’t for you.”

He knew she had tried to keep her distance. As she lifted her head toward him, he saw gratitude in her eyes and more—the same desire that he’d been trying to hold in check. That look was like a trigger to all the emotions he’d been denying expression.

He heard a soft growl rise in his throat as he lowered his mouth to hers, giving her a moment to pull back if his own need had made him read her incorrectly. When she didn’t push him away, he allowed himself the pleasure of exploring her lips, pressing, rubbing, reveling in all the sensations that he’d only imagined until now.

Some part of his mind registered that it wasn’t safe to stay here. Another part told him that the bad guys didn’t have two spare tires. And if they did, they’d figure he was a lot farther away.

They were still in the car, and he couldn’t do everything he wanted. But he felt reckless enough to pull the lever that slid back his seat, then scooped her up and lifted her onto his lap. Her legs were shifted toward the console. But she twisted her upper body so that her wonderful breasts were pressed to his chest when she wound her arms around his neck.

As he kissed her, he stroked his hands up and down her arms, loving the smooth texture of her skin. With his eyes closed, he could imagine she was naked, and all he’d have to do to cup her breasts would be to ease her a little away from his chest and bring his hands inward. His fingers could imagine the tight points of her nipples, but he somehow kept the impulse to touch her like that in check. Still, there were other sensations to enjoy. Her hip was pressed to his erection, and he longed to swing her body fully around so that she was straddling his lap. Again he kept himself from doing it because he knew with her open to him like that, he might lose any sense of caution. And he was damned if the first time he made love to her would be a furtive encounter in the front seat of a car.

For a few more moments, he let himself enjoy the kiss and the pressure of her body against his, knowing it would have to end soon. Finally, when he was afraid he would tumble over the edge of self-control, he forced himself to lift her back into her seat. She made a sound that was part startled and part loss. Her eyes blinked open, and she stared at him in confusion, then abruptly faced forward, flopping against the seat.

Swiping at her hair, she took several deep breaths. “I’m sorry.”

“About what?” he asked, hearing the thick quality of his voice. “I’m the one who picked you up and put you on my lap.”

“I let you do it. I don’t usually act like that with guys I barely know.”

“Both of us are off-balance,” he answered. Putting the moment in perspective, he added, “It’s not every day you escape from killers with a tracking device.”

She dragged in a breath and let it out. “Right.”

He’d given her an excuse for her behavior—and his—although he knew it was more than that. They were bonding, and there was no way to escape the pull.

Partly to distract himself and partly because he needed some answers, he let loose with some of the thoughts that had been piling up in his mind. “I’ve got a lot of questions. “Do you think your uncle knew there was a tracker inside the pendant? How did the bad guys know it was there? Was he working with them, and they had a disagreement?”

She shook her head. “Right, a lot of questions, and I can’t answer any of them. I haven’t seen him since I was a kid. And I was only at his house for about half an hour when those guys came up from the beach.” She finished with a question of her own. “Why would he want to put a tracker on me?”

“To lead him to your father?”

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