Page 3 of Hawk and the Cougar

She gripped the arm rest with her free hand, still braced on the dash with the other. “Have you lost your mind?”

He didn’t flinch. Liz scanned for witnesses but saw no one else in the parking lot. She glanced at the professor. His eyes were straight ahead on the oncoming vehicle, body tense. He was going to do it. He was going to ram the SUV. She swung her gaze onto the speedometer. They were doing thirty-five. The SUV was fifty feet away. They would crash in seconds.

“For God’s sake, pull off,” she pleaded.

“They’ll pull out.”

Liz glanced at him. “You can’t know that.”

“Yes, I can.”

Thirty feet.

Forty miles per hour. Liz looked out of the passenger side window. Asphalt sped past in a blur of black. She had a better chance of surviving the impact with the ground than a head-on collision in a vehicle that didn’t have seatbelts, much less air bags.

Twenty feet.

She shoved open the door.

“What the hell—” he broke off.

Tires squealed, and the truck veered right. She slammed into Professor Hawkins. His arm shot around her, and he hugged her against him. Liz buried her face in his chest and clutched his shirt as they spun with the force of the empty truck bed. A hard jolt threw her forward, then yanked her back when he hit the brakes. He crushed her closer as they came to a jarring halt.

Liz remained motionless, eyes jammed shut, fingers gripping his shirt so tight her nails bit into her palm.

He twisted, his jaw brushing the top of her head as he looked over his shoulder. “Damn cowards,” he muttered. “Hit and run.” He relaxed back in the seat. “You all right?”

She inhaled a shaky breath, and her senses, filled with the aroma of fresh soap, mingled with an earthy scent that reminded her of the desert. Strong fingers cupped her chin and tilted her face upward. He stared down at her. Her heart hammered and her body trembled like an eight-point-nine earthquake. She fought the urge to bury her head in his chest again and burst into tears.

Liz dropped her gaze to his lips. His mouth lowered, then stopped a hair’s breadth from hers. She lifted her eyes to his, and his brow rose. She straightened as if suddenly freed from a Jack-in-the-box. He jerked back, and she banged her head against the rear-view mirror. Dull pain radiated through her skull.

“Careful,” he said. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

Liz rubbed the back of her head. “I’ll hurt myself? You almost kill me, then tell me I’ll hurt myself? What kind of nut are you? What the hell was that all about? I’m adding attempted murder to the charge of rape.” She fingered the knot on her head.

He reached for the key. “Who are you?”

“The innocent act is getting old,” she muttered.

He turned the key. The engine whined. He pumped the gas, and the motor kicked over. He shifted into gear and eased forward.

“Where are we going?” She glanced back at the building and the door they had exited.

“The door locks from the inside,” he said. “You can’t get back in that way.”

“Just let me out here. I can walk to my car. I want to get as far away from you as possible.”

“Soon enough.” He made a slow turn out of the aisle. “What’s this about me staying away from Emma Williams?”

She shot him a narrow-eyed look. “I know about the two of you.”

“What do you know?”

“I know you have a relationship with her.”

His attention remained straight ahead as he slowed for the exit. “I don’t sleep with my students.”

Liz gave a mirthless laugh. “I didn’t expect you to tell the truth.’