Page 2 of Under Control

“You okay?” he asked, looking her over, hoping she hadn’t been hurt.

“I’m okay.” A sweet, feminine voice escaped her full lips.

Holding her close, he realized that her eyes hadn’t been sparkling. They were wet.

Has she been crying?

“I just caught an edge,” she explained, like she’d been caught doing something wrong. “Thank you.”

As she made to push away from his arms, he realized that he had been still holding her all this time.I never let her go.

She frowned as she probably realized the same thing. He released his grip on her thick sweater, letting her float back a foot into her own space. Silence filled the rink. Their gazes did not break, and she continued to blink at him, likely assessing him, given the look in her eyes.

There was something distrustful about the way she was evaluating him. Her body language screamed that she was scared and threatened that she was about to run. Before thinking, he threw out his hand, just knowing she was just about to pop smoke and disappear—and knowing he couldn’t allow that. His client had warned him that she was a runner—and that she could slip out of any situation.

His client had also warned him of the importance of not letting her go.

“Carrick,” he introduced himself, keeping her there.

She took his hand, though hers remained limp, and she retracted it right way. Clearly, she didn’t know what to make of him—but her manners shone through.

“Dani.”

Cute.She seemed very sweet, and not at all like the client had described. That was the first thing that brought on his suspicion that something might be wrong and not as he’d been led to believe.

“Nice to meet you,” he replied with a little more meaning than he’d expected.

She responded slow and shy, her voice cracking, “I really do appreciate you saving me from the fall.”

“Forget it.” He shrugged as instinct urged him to back off a little.

But the caveman inside him couldn’t take his eyes off her. Lithe and pert, she almost glowed under the soft lights. There was something different about this target. She continued averting her gaze, looking down at the hard ice and shaking her pretty heart-shaped face.

Something was brewing in his mind that he was unwilling to accept, and his strategy shifted. This was not how he’d planned the operation to go, but he had to adjust on the fly—right?

Carrick checked his watch and turned in the direction she was going. “Heading this way? Last five minutes.”

He motioned, nearly regretting it as he did. Really, he knew better. They didn’t have time for leisurely skating.

“I was.” Her words poured out nervously, responding to his invitation. “But…”

“You aren’t anymore?”

“I mean, I am.” She toyed with her gray sweater buttons as she looked away, seemingly just as conflicted as him. She was a smart little coyote, and he wondered if she was ready to bolt.

She isdefinitelyready to bolt.

“Well, let’s go then.” He took the lead, pushing off the ice and gliding away from her.

If there was one thing Carrick was good at, it was controlling a situation. After a pause, there was the distinct sound of skates on the ice behind him, and she caught up to glide alongside him. He’d been sure she would follow—had just known it.

A sense of intrigue tugged at his senses as a cold burst of wind blew her long brunette locks across her shoulder.

So he decided to lay it on thick.

“Looks like you’ve got tough luck tonight,” he said.

“It certainly wouldn’t have been the worst thing to happen to me on Valentine’s Day.” The rebellious words seemed to slip from her mouth, and she glanced up with an embarrassed expression.

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