and fit all the clothes into the larger bag, then tucked in the smaller one.
“What now?”
“Now we move someplace more secure with some equipment we can use. Pack what you need. We’ll sanitize this place and get out.”
That was going to be easy. She was ready to leave. “Where are we going?”
“Someplace safe and undetectable. You’re going to love it.”
An hour later, outside, Dodger walked to a black sedan, and Anna frowned. He opened the door and slid into the driver’s side.
“Anna, come on.”
She hurried to the passenger’s side and quickly got in next to him. He pulled the visor down and keys dropped into his hands. Where the heck had he gotten a car? The engine rumbled to life, and he pulled away from the curb.
They navigated the labyrinthine streets along the river toward the Charles Bridge, passing medieval alleys and passageways, breathtaking Romanesque and Art Nouveau architecture, and homes with a distinctive German influence.
She was grateful for the alleyways. It had been easy to escape. When they came to the Charles Bridge, traffic slowed a bit from a tour disembarking from boat rides on the river. The boats reminded her of Paris. What a beautiful city steeped in so much history, so beautifully and lovingly preserved by the Czechs, an ode to their survival during both Nazi and Soviet invasions.
One day she would love to come back here just to take in the sights.
The city smelled amazing with the scents of Czech, German, and Jewish cultures and the food that went with it. Her stomach rumbled.
Dodger glanced over. “We’ll eat soon.”
She nodded.
They entered Lesser Town below the Prague Castle, situated on a hill and the home of the president. The area was dotted with lavish homes built by Czech nobility. Then they hit the highway outside the city limits. Fifteen minutes later, he turned into an industrial park and pulled up to a warehouse, painted in dark and light gray tones.
Dodger parked the car, pocketed the keys, and grabbed their bags, exiting the vehicle. She got out and met him in front of the car. Reaching over, she snagged the handles of her bag, but he wouldn’t let go. His hand was warm against her fingers and she couldn’t seem to stop the sizzle that threaded up her arm. She yanked. He resisted.
“Thanks, but I can pull my own weight.”
He jerked the bag, and she came up against him. He held her there, her heart beating double time. She had wanted to see it when she’d told him this morning about how she dreamed of him every night. How turned on she was. Anger shimmered through her in a wave of heat, pushing her toward recklessness.
He stared down at her with the same kind of hunger in him that she felt every time she saw him, every time she thought of him. There was that raw longing she wanted burning in his eyes.
“That is some nice weight you’re carrying,” he stated in a rough whisper.
Her chest expanded, and she looked up at him through the lace of her lashes. “I know you didn’t just call me fat.”
He chuckled at the flash of mock temper she projected, that grin spreading across his oh-so-handsome face. Her eyes flicked to his lips and back up. He leaned into her space. Heat washed through her. That edgy desire and anticipation crept along her nerves. If she leaned forward, he would kiss her. She could see the promise in his eyes, and something wild and reckless rose up in answer, pushing her to close the distance, to take the chance. His eyes dared her, his mouth lured—masculine, sexy lips slightly parted in invitation.
“Well, now that you mention it—”
She blinked, the moment over. “You jerk,” she said and pulled the bag out of his hand. He obviously let it go or she would still be fighting with him. “You keep this up, and I’m never going to call you Ducky.”
He smiled and started toward the warehouse. “That’s all right, my little Stormbird. Being bad is so much more fun.”
Yeah, it was, she thought as she watched that fine butt in those snug jeans walk away from her. He’d bought a leather jacket but had chosen brown instead of black. It was a weathered-looking bomber, and it complemented all that dark skin and dark blond wavy hair.
Yeah, temporary and Max would never find out. Those were his terms, and to get close to him, it might be worth it.
One thing was for sure. It wasn’t