Page 59 of I Dream of Danger
She was a fool, because just the sight of him in the penumbra, face strong and sober, voice tinged with tenderness, nearly undid her. This was so dangerous. He’d brought her to her knees ten years ago. It had taken years to recover.
Granted, she wasn’t the naïve and needy young girl she’d been then, but he still had the power to affect her deeply. If someone had asked her, she’d have sworn that Nick Ross was dead to her, and yet here she was, shivering and susceptible all over again, melting at his touch.
Never again.
She stiffened, pulled back.
She’d projected twice in one day. She’d been pursued by men who had taken many of her friends prisoner. She was lucky to be alive. She had Nick to thank for that, but that didn’t mean she owed him anything but gratitude.
Certainly not love.
When she pulled back, Nick’s face turned blank and his hand dropped. His voice was brisk and business-like. “I need to get the hovercar under cover. Can you stand?”
Stupid question. Or maybe not so stupid.
Elle pushed down on the floor with her legs. They didn’t tremble. Okay. Good to go.
“Yes, I can.”
“Good girl.” In a second he was at her door and helping her down. Elle moved slowly. She wanted to make sure she’d been right about being able to stand. The idea of fainting was too awful to contemplate. She wasn’t weak and needy. She wasn’t the Elle he’d left. She was strong.
It was just that it had been a very bad day.
Her legs held, thank God. Nick handed her her purse. “Look up.”
A wind had suddenly blown up and she wondered if she heard right. “What?”
“Look up.” Nick put a finger under her chin and tilted her head back. “Our ride’s here.”
Oh my God. A helicopter! Coming down almost right on top of her, and she hadn’t heard a thing! The helicopter was barely discernable in the gloom and the cockpit was dark. Instead of the deafening roar of helicopters in the movies, it barely made a low buzzing sound as it veered off a few feet and neatly landed, like a cat after a jump.
“Come on!” Nick practically picked her up and hustled her over.
The helicopter looked eerie—made of some sleek, dark, matte substance, with no apparent windows. Just as she determined that there was no way in, a door slid open showing a dimly lit interior. Four steps unfolded from the side.
Elle walked up into the cabin and sat down in one of the seats. Through the open door she could see Nick driving the odd car into what looked like a warehouse and then running back. He leaped into the body of the helicopter without using the steps, shouting “Go go go!”
The steps retracted, the door closed, and the helicopter lifted off abruptly, leaving Elle’s stomach behind. It was utterly quiet inside the body of the helicopter. In every film she’d ever seen, people wore headphones to mask the noise, but inside it was like a cathedral.
There was no way to see outside, but there were four big monitors showing what looked like the real view, the brightly lit interstate off to the right, and infrared images, thermal images, and GPS coordinates on a moving map.
They were continuing their way north, destination a blue cross to the northeast. Elle couldn’t make out where they were heading. “Name’s Jon. Pleased to meet you.” A partition had slid to one side and the pilot stuck his hand through. Elle awkwardly reached forward to take it. “Really glad Nick found you before his head exploded.”
The hand was big and rough and belonged to a man who looked like he’d just come in from surfing some big waves. Though it was freezing cold outside, he had on an unbuttoned aloha shirt over a blindingly white tee shirt. The aloha shirt had bright blue parakeets flying among bright yellow palm trees, echoing his bright blue eyes and long sun-bleached hair.
He had a big black gun in a well-used shoulder holster.
Everything about the man was breezy and easygoing except his ice-blue eyes, which were cold and hard, and his gun, equally cold and hard.
“Pleased to meet you,” she said. She looked at Nick then back at Surfer Jon. “Thanks for the rescue.”
Jon winked and one side of his mouth turned up. “Any time. Rescuing beautiful women seems to have become our latest pastime.”
“Jon…” Nick growled.
Jon rolled his eyes and cocked his head to one side, contemplating Nick. “Dude…chill.”
“Where are we going?” Elle tried to keep her voice calm. The only answer was silence.
