Page 13 of Chasing Paradise

Even rumpled from a flight, her long dark hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, she was a knockout. She was tall and fit with a killer rack and an understated way of dressing herself in black cargo pants and a black tank top.

And that face?

Pure perfection.

Even without a stitch of makeup on.

She was that effortless kind of pretty that could either say she knew she was hot enough without it, or that she simply didn’t want you to notice.

Judging by her tight posture, I figured it was the latter.

She had that “don’t fuck with me” sign tattooed on her forehead. Which was extra intriguing since she had one of those delicate, feminine faces—all soft, high cheeks, a delicate nose, and a cleft chin.

When I’d been boarding my flight, suddenly, I wasn’t obsessing over my mission to clear my name but feeling no small amount of disappointment at my missed connection with the pretty girl at the airport.

So imagine my surprise to see her once again in town just a few miles from the airport in Ecuador.

For a split second, I’d felt that flip in my stomach, all my innate practicality flying out the window, replaced with thoughts of fate or serendipity.

Until I realized she was looking at some goods at a street-side vendor… While trying to discreetly watch me.

Again, I’ll admit it, I’d felt that initial ego boost.

Until she became my shadow as I moved through town.

She’d had many chances to stop and speak to me, to seal the deal if she was just looking for a fun vacation fling.

So when she didn’t, it was clear—with no small amount of disappointment—that she wasn’t following me to take me to bed. But for some other unknown purpose.

And given the shitstorm I found myself in, there was no way it could be for any sort of good.

The plan, of course, was to simply get away from her. It wasn’t like I was about to put my hands on and hurt a woman. But some part of me needed answers first.

So I’d grabbed her in the alley.

And the way she fought against me suggested that I was right before she could even confirm it herself.

She didn’t fight like a scared woman in an alley; she fought like someone who had been trained for years to get herself out of dangerous situations.

Of all the things my wild imagination came up with in the span of a moment or two, a damn bounty hunter didn’t even cross my mind.

Namely, because I should have been safe from them the second I departed the United States.

But there she was.

I had to assume she knew the law.

So, what? Her plan was to somehow goaroundit? Was she that crazy?

The way she continued to be my shadow after I left her in that alley said that, yes, yes, she was.

My only choice was to lose her.

Which wouldn’t exactly be hard considering just where my journey was going to be taking me.

Even if she managed to pick up my trail and follow, the chances of her ever being able to catch up to me were slim to none.

Which was why I went ahead and didn’t try to lose her when I went back to my hotel room to shower and change out of my travel clothes.

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