Page 8 of Winters Heat

Mia didn’t elaborate, and he tried to decipher her meaning. What was she talking about—owned versus owns?

He ran his hand through his hair. It was too shaggy and unkempt. He needed a haircut and a shave. The scruff on his face was a scant thicker than usual, though he liked to keep a menacing shadow. Men backed off, and danger-junkie women gravitated toward him. Win-win.

He adjusted the sunglasses and focused more at her than at the road while he drove. “Why don’t we start from the beginning?”

“Why don’t you?” Her smirk was still defiant. She didn’t carry herself like a professional operative and didn’t act like someone on a job. But her challenging attitude took some major cojones.

Given the last hour or so, she had reason to act that way, but it was still unfamiliar. Not a lot of people gave him shit. Not a lot of people questioned him. Never a petite woman dressed like an Easter egg. But Mia doled out the brashness by the bucketful.

“Answering my questions with questions isn’t going to get us anywhere. Though you entertain me to no end.”

She scrunched up her face. “What do you want to know?”

“For starters, where are you from?”

“Alexandria, Virginia. Right outside DC,” she said.

“Well, so am I. How about that?”

Her eyes flashed.

His sarcastic quip was too much. He still needed to calm it down. Why couldn’t he handle this simple interrogation? “What sent you to Louisville?”

“A client needed me to help him with something.”

“And your client is…?” He let the question trail, hoping she would answer. But she didn’t. Instead, she focused on smoothing her shoulder-length hair, which stuck out in various directions. Her messed hair was his fault, after he grabbed her like a bag of tactical gear. “Doesn’t seem like a good client, sending you to do his dirty work. It’s actually a jackass move.”

Silence from Miss Cardigan-and-Khakis.

“You walked straight into a bad situation. Two professional teams had the same goal. Secure that package. Or was it three teams, Mia? At least own up if you’re working this op, too.”

Quiet minutes passed. Mia neither acknowledged him nor the situation. She concentrated on a few strands of hair, twirling them around a finger.

“What do you mean by professional team?” she asked.

Was she screwing with him? Red flag after red flag told him this woman was some innocent who just stepped in a huge pile of crap.

“Assuming you’re not acting the part of blameless bystander, I’ll play along.” He threw a handful of Dots into his mouth, needing to release some tension. “A pro team, a professional team—it’s a group of operatives trying to complete a covert task. Every operative knows their role: good guys or bad ones, or a confusing mixture of the two, but they know. And it seems like you’ve spent some time with both today.”

“And you’re the good guy, huh?” Mia acted interested for the first time in anything he had to say.

“I’d like to think so, though I’m sure many would disagree.” He smiled, showing lots of teeth. It was too much. Too fake. He knew it and was sure she knew it, too. “If I were going to hurt you, I’d have done it by now. You’re baggage I don’t need. But we seem to want the same thing, and I’m curious enough about you to slow my return until I get a few questions answered.”

“Why are you curious? You have what you wanted.”

He didn’t know what to say next. Awkward wasn’t his thing, but today, he aced it. “What do you do? For work. What type of business are you in, Mia?”

“I thought we weren’t answering questions with questions.”

Smooth move. He needed to change tactics.

“We should get ice for your face.” He pulled into another motel parking lot and turned around in his seat to stare at her. “Stay put. Please.”

Mia nodded and remained in place, though he wasn’t sure why. Nor was he sure why he tacked on theplease. He placed a handful of zip tie cuffs on the dashboard.

“I don’t need these. Take it as a show of trust you’ll sit and stay.”

He wouldn’t tie her up, and she wouldn’t run. He could tell by her body language. In all likelihood, that was because he still had the package, and she wanted it. Whatever her motives, he didn’t care. As long as she listened.

---