Midnight Special Coming on Strong - By Tawny Weber Page 0,18
of one of the biggest criminal organizations on the East Coast. He wasn’t going to do that with people bugging him, asking FBI questions and passing him in the hallway muttering, “The truth is out there.”
He could ask her to keep it a secret. But in his experience, women couldn’t keep secrets. And she’d have no reason to want to once he’d booted her off the train.
“I was in an accident recently,” he ventured, shifting his expression from intimidating to doleful. “I’m feeling some pain. I need space, privacy, so I can sleep when I feel like it, pace at night if I’m hurting too much. I need it if I’m going to recover properly.”
Her pretty face creased in sympathetic lines and she poked out her lower lip in a sad pout.
“You poor thing.”
“So you’ll vacate the berth,” he confirmed.
She patted his forearm. Hunter frowned at the heat he felt at her gentle touch. There, another reason to be glad she was leaving. A couple more touches like that and he wouldn’t be thinking about the case, about catching up on sleep or about the miserable ache of his screaming muscles.
It was as if he was hardwired after their little wake-up games. She touched, he got hard.
“Sorry, but no.” She even added a regretful smile to her refusal.
Hunter frowned, trying to pull some of the blood north to his brain so he could remember what she was refusing.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Look, this trip is important to me,” she said, looking less like a china doll and more like an avenging angel all of a sudden. Her chin lifted, her eyes heated and she got that same stubborn my-way-or-else look his mother used to get. “I’m not giving it up.”
“I need my rest.”
“I need to get to California.”
“So fly.”
“You fly.”
“I can’t fly. I told you, I was in an accident. Ruptured my inner ear. I fly, I die.” An exaggeration, but he was going for effect here.
“I fly, everyone on the plane dies,” she shot back. Clearly she was better at exaggerating.
“Oh, please.”
“They will all die. I know they will. I’ve had horrible dreams for years about crashing, of going down in flames. And my psychic agrees. If I get on a plane, it will crash. I owe it to those other people to not put their lives in danger.” She gave a big, tearful sniffle before turning her back to him.
Hunter squinted. She’d played it pretty well, but that had to be a total bullshit act.
When she faced him again, her lower lip was trembling just a little and she’d raised her chin as if putting on a brave face. Hunter almost grinned.
She really was cute.
Until she heaved a big sigh and shook her head.
“I guess that settles it. Unless, of course, you’re giving up the berth?” When he gave a scowling shake of his head, she shrugged, then walked over to the little table by the door. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved that she might be going, or wish she’d walk a little more so he could enjoy the view of her hips swaying.
She picked up a small leather folder.
“Breakfast?” She waved the menu in the air.
Hunter frowned. He was starting to get the feeling that she wasn’t going to be easy to get rid of. Not willingly.
“How about we settle the room situation first.” He folded his arms over his chest and leaned back in the chair, making it clear he wasn’t moving until he’d gotten his way.
She gave an elaborate eye roll, leaned against the table and matched his crossed-armed stance.
“And what is it that you suggest?” She widened those gorgeous eyes, pure sweetness and light.
“I suggest you get off in Chicago. Take the next train. I’ll cover your ticket and reimburse you for this one.” There. Pure generosity. He offered his most reasonable smile to go with it. The one he used when he gave criminals the choice between jail and bodily harm.
“I have a better idea.” Her smile took on an irritated edge, toning down the sweetness and dousing all that light. “Why don’t you get off in Chicago instead? You’re the one with the issue, you can take the next train.”
“I have to be in San Francisco in seven days.”
“I have to be in San Francisco as soon as possible,” she countered.
“Then fly.”
“I told you, if I fly, people will die.” She gave a stubborn jut of her chin before adding, “Do you need to talk to my psychic? She’ll tell you.”