Star Witness - By Mallory Kane Page 0,45
survive is if we can depend on each other to be strong. I didn’t mean to distract you.”
“Damn it, Dani. I’m trying to keep us alive. This is not personal.” Hell. That hadn’t come out right. He’d gone about this all wrong, and she was not helping. If she’d just stop and think, surely she’d realize what he meant. Irritation flared inside him.
“Just try to stay focused, okay?” he said, and turned to shine the flashlight toward the main floor of the store.
Dani could see the muscle in his jaw working. His chiseled features looked sculpted in marble. She watched as he withdrew, physically and emotionally. His back was ramrod straight, the muscles knotted. His whole body exuded intense control.
What she’d told him was true. She knew he was right. They had to stay focused. Distractions could be deadly. Harte might have lost his focus for an instant to indulge his lust, but now Mr. Prosecutor was back.
“I’ll be right back,” he said, just as lightning flashed and thunder roared.
Dani jumped and gasped. “Where are you going?” she asked anxiously.
Harte heard the apprehension in her voice. It reminded him that, as brave as she’d been, she was deeply afraid of storms.
“I just want to check things out.” He turned to look out the glass front of the drugstore as another bolt of lightning flared. The thunder seemed to be roiling continuously. The rain and wind made it almost impossible to see anything, and all the lightning did was to brighten the grays.
“I don’t think they will suspect that we’re here. I couldn’t see inside from out there.”
She turned to look, and cringed when a flash of lightning flared, followed immediately by a clap of thunder. “Why isn’t the storm moving away?”
“I guess that low front stalled it.”
“I guess.” Dani’s voice was a mixture of apprehension and weariness.
Harte picked up the big flashlight and shone the narrow beam on the signs about the aisles of shelves. “Batteries, aisle four,” he read. “Stationery, toys, paper towels. Looks like we’ve got all the comforts of home.” He turned the flashlight in the opposite direction. “Ah, kitchen,” he said, and headed in that direction.
“Kitchen?”
“Sure. I want some towels to dry off with. As soon as I get them, I want to find an elastic bandage.”
He grabbed some dish towels. “These should work,” he said, and tucked them under his arm.
Dani was reading the signs on the other aisles. “Look, Harte,” she cried. “T-shirts.”
They picked out long-sleeved T-shirts that read The Big Easy. “And hoodies!” Dani cried. “Ooh—fleece.”
His heart twisted painfully in his chest at the look on her face. She beamed as if the fleece were golden. It took all his self-control not to hug her tight and promise her he’d make it his personal mission to see that she never felt cold again.
“Here,” he said, spotting fleece throws. He grabbed two. “These will be good if we get chilly.”
“I wish they had pants,” she said wistfully. “Although these jeans are hard enough to get on and off dry. I’ll probably never be able to peel them off soaking wet.”
Harte couldn’t help looking as she held up a pink hoodie with a graffiti design, measuring it against her. Tight didn’t begin to describe her jeans, now that they were wet. They looked as though they’d been painted on her sexy hips and legs. He loved her body. It was curvy in all the right places and in precisely the right amount. He swallowed hard and did his best not to get lost in an image of her wiggling her way out of those wet jeans.
“Harte, look!” she cried.
He turned. She’d gone to the end of the aisle and was reading the signs farther along. “Scrubs and socks—and oh, thank God, underwear.”
She ran. When he caught up, she handed him a pair of scrubs. “Here’s a pair of XL for you and a medium for me.” She headed up the aisle to a display of socks, boxers and briefs and panties. She grabbed a package of cotton panties and one of socks, then paused. She looked up at him. Her face held a pained expression. “We’re looting, aren’t we?”
“I guess so, in the strictest sense of the word. But I’ll bet the owner wouldn’t begrudge us these few items, under the circumstances.” He gave her a small smile. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll send him a check when we get out of here.”
“When we get out—” she echoed, then turned toward him, doubt