Page 39 of Stalked

“I’m going to take you into my office. I have people looking into your situation.”

She nodded. “Okay. You still haven’t told me exactly what you do or who you work for.”

He didn’t answer. Was it interesting that she would be pressing for info on that topic now or was he just reading into things that weren’t there? He looked over at Rosalyn, her crystal-blue eyes staring at him.

He’d swear she was guileless. But he couldn’t take the risk. The Critical Response Division wasn’t one of the covert divisions of Omega, but Steve still couldn’t take a chance on giving Rosalyn any information if he suspected she was working with someone.

God, what a mess that was going to be if she was. Because what if a paternity test proved the baby was his but Rosalyn was really in cahoots with a criminal?

Complicated was an understatement.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Great. She was trapped in the car with Broody McScary.

What had happened to the passionate man she’d made love with last night? He been here with her until they’d eaten lunch.

Maybe he had indigestion.

No, it wasn’t lunch. It was her phone call. He didn’t like that she’d had a conversation he couldn’t hear. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

He didn’t trust her.

She didn’t know exactly what bad thing he kept expecting her to do. Hell, she didn’t thinkheknew what bad thing he expected her to do. But obviously he expected something.

She didn’t even really want to talk to him, and avoided doing so by pretending to sleep part of the way. But about an hour outside Colorado Springs, she had to go to the bathroom.

“Can we make one short pit stop?”

“We’ve got less than an hour. We’re almost to Pueblo. Can’t you hold it?”

If he’d been annoyed, she would’ve argued with him. But he didn’t look annoyed. He looked distrustful.

“Fine.” She would hold it, even if it killed her.

Thirty minutes later she was afraid it really would.

“Look, we’re going to have to stop, okay? I know you think I’m planning some sort of nuclear attack or whatever, but my pregnant body is not going to wait to go to the bathroom.”

He almost cracked a smile at that. “Fine. I’ll get gas while we stop.”

He pulled up at the gas pump and Rosalyn ran inside to use the restroom. She felt much better when she came back out. She wondered what she could do to help ease the tension between her and Steve. She had to accept it was his job to be distrustful—he was a cop, after all. She shouldn’t be offended if he was butting into her business with questions all the time. Especially if it was because he was trying to keep her safe.

She would be the better person. Maybe buy him a candy bar as a peace offering. Who could resist chocolate? Plus, she was hungry.

Then again, she was always hungry.

She looked out the gas-station convenience-store window at Steve, wondering what he would like. A guy on a motorcycle was moving slowly toward Steve as he pumped the gas. Steve was looking at her. Probably to make sure she wasn’t robbing the cash register.

At first she didn’t pay any mind to the motorcycle except to wonder why he was coming up directly behind their car rather than to one of the empty pumps. But then she saw the rider pull something out of his jacket. It looked like a small stick.

Then he flicked his wrist and it grew into a much longer club.

He was going to hit Steve with it.

Rosalyn dropped the candy and ran toward the door knowing there was no way she’d make it outside in time to warn Steve or stop the motorcycle guy.

Something in her face alerted him, or maybe just his cop instincts, and he spun and threw up his arm just as the club came at his head.