Page 7 of Winters Heat

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Winters rolled his head left to right, cracking his neck, and directed his attention to the woman behind him. “I’m Colby Winters. Most people call me Winters.”

He sounded flat and bearish when he wanted to be trustworthy. Trying to make her talk while balancing his irritation made this job more complicated by the mile.

The woman didn’t acknowledge him. Again, he glanced at her in the rearview mirror. She wrinkled her nose at him, which was an improvement over the kicking and shouting.

“And you are?” His temples throbbed. Parker could easily pull her identity from any number of security cameras, but he wanted her to open up. Who knew why?

“None of your business. I don’t introduce myself to my kidnappers.” She gave him the snake-eyes, pursing her lips to complete her pissed off quip.

“Should have expected that.” He gave her a once-over, taking in her swollen lip and puffy cheek, and wanted to bend steel. “Those guys roughed you up?”

“What does it matter? I’m not saying anything to you either. So you’ll just do the same.”

“Aren’t you a tough one?” Intrigued, he gave a half-cocked smile. She was stronger than he gave her credit for. Must’ve been that deceptive sweater set she wore. The pastel colors lessened her bite.

As best he could from the driver’s seat, he studied her face and the slope of her neck to her collarbone. His backseat passenger was, by all standards, attractive. A little vanilla. Like a teacher or librarian, if he ignored the mussed makeup and hair.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He swallowed his gruffness. “Let’s try this again. My name is Colby Winters. You can call me Winters. And you are?”

No response.

“Tell me your name, and I’ll share a little about me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Fine. Mia.”

Their gazes clashed, and his chest warmed. Winters chewed the inside of his cheek before he turned the AC on high.

“Nice to meet you, Mia. We’ve made some progress here, haven’t we? Let’s jump to it, doll. Why were you at the airport?”

She shifted in her seat. “I had things to do.”

Evasive. Not scripted, but not careless enough to give him any details. “Who do you work for?”

“No one.”

“How did you know where that package was? That was mine.”

“Yours?” Her chin jutted up. “I don’t think so.”

Finally, a reaction.She was resolute. Strong. Strident. Even angry. She glared at him in the mirror.

“Well, it sure as shit isn’t yours.”

She sighed. “That’s not true… It is now. But it wasn’t before.”

Her forceful rebuttal dissolved with a drop of her shoulders. What was her inflection? Unease or… Sadness? Whatever she felt it made him uncomfortable. He was out of practice with souped-up emotional interactions. She didn’t even make sense. Nothing but a carnival ride of crazy. “Lady, I don’t know what you’re talking about. But we can work something out,ifyou stop being so cryptic.”

He flexed his grip on the steering wheel. What the hell did he care anyway? He had the package. For the time being, that was his only objective, and he’d accomplished it. But his curiosity was another thing. Why did a sweater-set-wearing, librarian-look-alike want anything of Titan’s?

As if reading his thoughts, she piped up in a hoarse whisper. “The person who owned that package told me to get it.”

She wasn’t giving him a lot, and the vagueness did nada to pacify his interest.

“You’re wrong. I was tasked with the pickup.” He didn’t want to scare her and summoned any empathy he might have squirreled away. “The owner hired my company to retrieve that package.”

“Well, Mr. Winters, that’s the difference. Owned versus owns.”

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