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I pursed my lips. “I’d say slim to none. It’s probably mangled in a field somewhere between here and Tyler…right alongside my truck.”
“Great,” she groaned.
“That’s why God made insurance,” I drawled. “Youdohave insurance on it, right?”
“Thankfully, I added it when I rented the car. I just hate that all my clothes, shoes, and makeup I had packed in my suitcases are gone.”
“I know you’re a long way from New York, but we have lots of malls here in Texas,” I teased, as she bristled.
“Who says I’m from New York?”
Though her words were wrapped around a chuckle, the hint of defensiveness in her tone piqued my curiosity. I sliced the denim, then peeled it back from her knee and glanced up at her. “Ahh, the license plates on your rental car.”
“Really? I never noticed that. I just got in and drove it off the lot,” she said, darting her eyes everywhere but on mine. “So, the car’s from New York, huh?”
“Yep.” I nodded as my bullshit meter pegged red.
Another man might have believed her, but I knew she was lying. Not because I was a cynical son of a bitch—which I am—but because I’d been trained to spot deception during interrogations. My former SEAL skills came in handy in my new line of work as a bounty hunter. But I didn’t need to use them on the ball-churning beauty before me. The woman was a terrible liar.
Five seconds ago, I didn’t give a fuck if she was from New York or Mars.
But now that my SEAL senses were on high alert, I wanted to slice her open, like a ripe peach, and uncover every secret she kept.
ChapterTwo
Emma
As the lie rolled off my tongue, I looked everywhere but at the intense, piercing blue eyes of the drop-dead gorgeous stranger who’d saved me.
The same stranger whose intoxicating masculine scent filled my senses and made me dizzy.
The same stranger whose wide, calloused hand, cupping the back of my thigh, sent heat and arousal rolling up and down my body.
The same stranger whose thick, capable fingers smearing antibiotic ointment over my damaged knee made my nipples ache and my girl parts throb.
Confined to the safe, small space—beneath the strange, bed-like table—with the rugged man had my hormones swirling faster than the tornado that had nearly killed us. Everything about him, from his thick, sandy-blond hair, sculpted, sun-bronzed face, tempting full lips, sharp defined jawline dusted in prickly scuff, and mesmerizing blue eyes, to the dark tee hugging his chiseled body like a second skin called to all the neglected, feminine cells in my body.
I’d never been the aggressor in any relationship—not that I’d had that many—or in bed. One, because no man had ever ignited my libido like the sexy stranger. And two, because according to my mother, a proper woman lets her man do his business in the bedroom. If he wants a shameless woman to get wild with, he hires a hooker.
But the longer I spent with my arousing savior, the more I wanted to strip him bare and ride him like a rodeo cowgirl.
“So, where are you from?” he asked, peeling back the flap he’d just cut on my jeans
“Here. Well…Dallas, I mean,” I stammered, inwardly cringing.
Though I’d spent months mentally practicing my cover story over and over, it was much different than saying the words out loud, even to a total stranger.
“Why’d you have a rental then?” he pressed, bandaging my knee.
“Mine’s in the shop. It’s got a little transmission trouble.”
“Ahh, I see.” He nodded, inching backward. “Let me take a look at your ankle.”
When he lifted my leg, removed my tennis shoe, and cradled my foot on his thigh, sparks of electricity splintered through me.
“It’s okay. It’s just a minor sprain,” I assured, forcing the words past the ball of lust lodged in my throat.
“Major or minor, doesn’t matter. I still need to wrap it.”
