Page 2 of Wanted
Half a year ago, she’d had a great life. She’d had a great job as a computer programmer for a defense contractor. The project she’d been working on was top secret, and she’d loved the challenge. Sometimes she thought that she understood computer code better than she understood English. After all the blood and sweat she’d put into that project, there was no way that she could have sold it for her own gain.
It would have been like selling her soul.
But somebody had sold out—and Reno suspected her.
Damn his cute, tight butt! Because of him, she no longer had her great job. Because of him, she was on the run to avoid treason charges. She no longer had a home, and she hadn’t seen her family and friends for months. She was so lonely she’d taken to talking to herself. As for money, sometimes she didn’t even know where she was going to get her next meal.
She took another harsh bite out of the candy bar and noticed her fingernails. She hadn’t had a manicure since before she’d gone on the lam. Her gaze dropped to the steering wheel, and she remembered her Corvette. Her one big splurge. Her one true love. She’d been forced to sell it at a used-car dealership for cash.
That was something for which she’d never forgive him. “I don’t care how cute your butt is.”
The exit came upon her suddenly, and she had to pull hard on the wheel of the little two-door to make the off-ramp. The sign read,Conrad, Population 16,201. It would have to do.
Driving slowly down Main Street, Dani considered her options. Her mind went to the meager supply of money in her purse. She had enough for a motel, but it was time to get another job. Not only was her cash supply low, she also needed a different car. She’d been driving this junker for too long.
By now, he probably knew not only the make, model, and license plate number, but also the fact that it pulled to the left. She didn’t know where he got his information, but it was uncanny what that man knew.
A flashing pink neon sign caught her eye, and she turned into the parking lot of the Waterbury Inn. The place looked cheap, but clean.
Would it be too much to hope for hot water?
She reached into the back seat and grabbed a brown wig and a pair of plain, metal-rimmed glasses before she headed to the registration desk. Ten minutes later, she found herself in Room One with a nice view of the busy street.
Sighing, Danielle set her laptop down on the table next to the window before tossing her bag onto the bed. Just once, she’d like to treat herself to a nice hotel. Just once. Muttering under her breath, she grabbed her toiletry bag and headed for the shower.
* * *
Special Agent Jeff Reno sat on the bed in his hotel room with his back propped up against the pillows. His hair was still wet from his shower, and he’d only bothered to put on jeans. Taking another swig from his bottle of beer, he glared at his phone.
“Come on, Dani,” he growled. He was tired and ready to catch a few Zs.
She’d spotted him; he was sure of it. He’d kept his distance from her when they’d been on the road, but somehow, she’d noticed him. She was getting eerily good at knowing when he was near.
He might have caught her this time, but he hadn't wanted her to get hurt. She would have run, and too many car chases ended in crashes.
He didn’t want their little hide-and-seek game to end like that.
Not after this long. He wiped a droplet of water off the beer bottle. After all she’d put him through, it was going to have to be something special when he caught her—something very special indeed.
He trailed his thumb down the gentle curve of the dark bottle, but his thoughts were on softer, more rounded curves.
“Damn,” he said as he ran a hand through his wet hair.
There were much better things to do with that body of hers than to wrap it around a tree. That was why he’d taken the exit into Gilroy. It had killed him to let her out of his sight, but she’d taught him a modicum of patience over the past few months. Tomorrow would be soon enough to catch up with her. He could wait one more night.
One long, never-ending night, from the looks of it.
The bulge behind the zipper of his jeans was going to make sure of that. Hell, his dick was like a divining rod when it came to her. It acted like this whenever she was within a ten-mile radius.
“Damn it, where are you?” He looked at his phone again. It was past time that she checked in.
With a curse, he flopped back against the pillow and stared at the ceiling. He’d been trained on how to avoid personal involvement in cases, but he’d gotten into the habit of texting with her at the end of every day. Now, he couldn’t sleep if he didn’t know she was safe for the night.
It was still strange how their cyber-relationship had evolved. The first time she’d emailed him, he’d nearly fallen off his chair. It had been soon after her escape. He didn’t know how she’d gotten his email address, but she’d sent a scathing message protesting her innocence. He’d had his technicians try to trace the IP address, but she’d woven such a tangled, knotted web that they hadn’t been able to unravel it.
Now, he knew better than to even try. She knew computers better than his entire staff combined. Instead, he’d started talking with her—because, of course, she’d gotten his phone number, too. One text conversation had turned into two, and then ten. Now they texted daily. Although he told himself that he looked forward to their exchanges for professional reasons, inside he knew better.
“Come on, babe.” He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. She wasn’t still driving, was she? He didn’t want to get back on the road to follow her. Was she planning on driving through the night? If she was, that would put a lot of distance between them.
