Page 18 of Covert Temptation

“Is there an Amish family available to take us in?” she muttered.

“I’m told the place has great Wi-Fi,” Dante offered, not glancing over.

“Of course it does. The bandwidth is wide open because no one lives out here to use it. Not that it matters. I won’t have a phone.”

“That’s correct, Fifth Avenue. No outside contact.”

A gasp hit her lips at the name he called her, even as she stilled at what it meant.

No contact. No control. She’d never felt more vulnerable.

She turned toward him, trying to keep her voice even. “You’re leaving me way out here without a phone?” She waved at the windshield and the endless snowflakes darting at it. Beyond that, nothing but the occasional farmhouse or cluster of trees. “What if something happens?”

“You’ll have everything you need.”

Her voice cracked. “How doyouknow what I need?”

He shifted his focus from the road to look at her. His eyes flickered with something that made him tear his stare away from her and redirect it to the road.

He seemed to hesitate, and then he said more softly, “I don’t. But I’ll make sure you’re okay.”

That surprised her. Not the words, exactly—but the way he said them. Like he meant it, and hated that he did.

She sat back in her seat, arms wrapped around herself. “I don’t like being cut off.”

“I get it.”

“Do you?” she asked quietly.

Dante was silent for a beat. “You ever have to sit on a rooftop for forty-eight hours with no comms, just hoping someone remembers to pull you out?”

She blinked.

“Didn’t think so,” he added.

Fair. She looked out the window again. The snow was falling heavier now, blanketing everything in white. As isolating as it felt, it was also beautiful. Stark. Like starting over.

She sighed and stole a glance at him again.

He was rigid in his seat as if every inch of his body was determined to get them through the snow to safety. Long minutes passed, then she caught Dante sending a sideways glance her way.

His gaze slid to her legs, then quickly darted back to the road.

Her stomach gave a flutter—a very annoying flutter, but still a flutter.

He was watching her.

And while he might be all gear and grit, there was no denying the tension simmering between them was more dangerous than the other threats hanging over her.

Two could play that game. If he could steal peeks at her, she could too.

A small smirk played around her lips. She had to say Dante provided a nice view.

He shifted in his seat as if suddenly uncomfortable.

She gave him sideways glance. “You okay over there?”

“Fine,” he grunted.

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