Page 26 of Hunted

So why was it so hard to keep from asking the question?

He clamped his jaw and put the car into motion again, braking for a light at the end of the ramp, then turning right, having no idea where the hell he was going, just driving. “Go on, tell me the rest.”

She looked at him with wary eyes. Half afraid of him, half hating his guts, as best he could figure. “We’re on the same side, Lexi.”

“No, we’re not. My father is dead. I’m the only one left to protect his legacy.”

Questions were burning in Romano’s mind again. Questions that had nothing to do with this case. Questions about her and why she was so determined to protect a dead man who, from what he’d gleaned, hadn’t been very nice to her while he’d been alive.

He forcibly resisted the urge to ask, to delve into her psyche, to search for the source of all the pain he sometimes saw in her eyes. He took the next left. “So what did you do with the contents of the box?”

“I had everything sent to my father’s lawyer in Pine Lake.”

“Pine Lake? That little village near your log mansion?”

She nodded. “I just wasn’t up to going through any more of Father’s things at the time. Jim stored everything for me, said it would be there whenever I was ready.”

“You’re telling me that the notes I’ve been searching for were up there in Pine Lake all along?”

“I’m telling you whatever my father had in that safe deposit box has been up there in Pine Lake all along, yes.”

Romano rolled his eyes and sighed through clenched teeth. “And the key?”

“That was just my old PO box key. A prop.”

He swore some more, pulled the car to a stop on the shoulder of the road so he could watch her face while she spoke. “So I was supposed to trot my ass all the way to New York on this wild-goose chase you set up, and then what? While I sat around trying to figure it out, you were gonna give me the slip, right? Head back up to your precious mountain retreat and grab your father’s notes from that lawyer on your way?”

“And my cat.”

“And then what, Lexi?”

“I don’t know. All I know is my father didn’t do what you think he did.”

“Yeah, and I’m Santa Claus.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so angry.”

He turned toward her, gripped her shoulders in his hands, and stared right into her eyes. “Because this plan of yours could have worked! You could have pulled this off, and if you had, I’d have been completely stumped. Pine Lake would be the last place I’d have looked for you. And dammit, you’d have probably ended up dead!”

She shook her head slowly, her eyes probing his, confusion clouding their liquid brown depths.

“Dead, Lexi. Cold and stiff in the ground. No more talking or laughing or flashing those big brown eyes. Nothing. One minute you’re fine, and the next … it’s just all over. It’s all freaking over.”

His hands had tightened on her shoulders. “Over,” he said, his voice lowering, growing harsher and rougher than it should. “For you, anyway. Not for me. I’d have more blood on my hands, one more innocent person dead because of me. And one more is more than I can take.”

Her eyes slowly came into focus through the haze that had been clouding his vision. Her eyes, so damned intense they could see things no normal eyes could see. He knew it. He had the feeling she was reading his scarred soul just then as easily as reading a book. He gave his head a shake and he released her. But he knew it wasn’t soon enough. She’d managed to shake him right out of his coldness, right out of his mannequin state, and she’d copped yet another peek at the hell that lived inside him. She’d seen way too much.

He looked away, lowering his hands from her shoulders. He steadied his breathing, but he could feel her eyes on him. And when he glanced back at her, he saw the way they darted rapidly over his face. Hesitantly, she lifted her hand, as if to press it to his cheek, but stopped in midair, maybe because of the look in his eyes.

“You’re in so much pain.” It wasn’t a question, the way she said it. More like an observation. One that made his heart bleed. Romano didn’t want her sympathy. He could handle just about anything but that.

“You’re changing the subject. We were talking about you.”

“No. I don’t think we were.”

When traffic cleared, he pulled a U-turn and headed back the way they’d come.

“She was beautiful, your wife.”

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