Page 13 of Top Secret Cowboy


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She rolled her eyes. “Why does every tourist who comes to San Francisco think we all hop on a trolley? I have a driver.”

He eyed her. “Then can he give me a ride?”

“Oh my god. You know what? Fine. Anything to get you out of my hair.” She clapped her phone to her ear and spoke to someone for a minute. Then she stowed her phone back inside her handbag. When she zipped it, the little frog charm swayed.

“He’s on his way. We’ll drop you off at the airport and then he can take me home.”

In a short time, Jace had adopted the habit of thumbing the brim of his Stetson as a show of agreement, respect or gratitude. In this case, all three.

Without making eye contact again, she stared out at the cars going by on the street. Having grown up with a feisty momma, he knew when to back off. Obviously, he’d pushed Bronte to her limits.

He put a couple feet of space between them and thought about whythatlie of all lies had tumbled out of him. All he could claim was that his gut told him to get the dude to back off. And Bronte went along with the ruse, probably to keep her company’s trouble under wraps and to avoid explaining why an agent from WEST Protection was with her.

Any clue as to him being there could point to company-wide security problems—very bad when the software she was known for supplying to other companies was built on privacy and trust.

He threw her a look from the corner of his eye. Even after being thrown onto the ground and pinned down by his body, then dragged through a dinner where she practically trembled with anger, she still looked stunning.

The red blouse and skirt silhouetted her curves, and that streak of red in the front of her dark hair gave her an alternative , quirky edge.

She really wasn’t his type, but she was easy on the eyes. Each time he glanced her way, he spotted another reason to look closer. For instance, her lips. They were tiny, but the top bowed in a heart shape and her bottom lip was much plumper. She also wore lip gloss with a tint that he could make an educated guess tasted like cherry.

Bronte wasn’t the nerdy type he preferred. But she didn’t look like a woman who ran a trendy software company either.

“Bronte.”

She threw up a hand. “I don’t want to talk right now. Oh, here’s the car.”

A silver sedan pulled up to the curb. She reached for the door handle, but Jace beat her to it. When she slid inside, she maintained a stiff, upright position.

“Hello. Where’s Troy?” she asked the driver.

The driver threw her a look in the rearview mirror. “Out sick. I’m filling in.”

She settled against the back of the seat. “We need to make a stop at the airport before you take me home, please.”

“Sure thing.”

A few minutes passed with them making slow progress through traffic. Jace noted how she bunched her hands together in her lap. A few times, she bounced her knee.

He looked at her harder. Was she still miffed about the fake fiancé thing or was he picking up another reason for her nervous body language?

The crawling feeling low in his gut wasn’t indigestion from the good meal.

He caught her eyes and widened his own in question.

She widened hers more, until the deep brown irises were ringed by white.

Ducking his head, he opened his mouth to ask what her problem was, but she made a cutting motion with her hand.

Keeping a close watch on the driver, she extracted her phone from her purse and pulled up a text screen.

He glanced away to give her privacy, but that sharp elbow struck him in the ribs again.

He looked back and saw her holding out the screen for him to read.

Something’s wrong. This isn’t my driver, and it isn’t the way to the airport.

Adrenaline waterfalled into Jace’s system. He placed a hand over hers and leaned forward to speak to the driver. “You didn’t tell us your name.”

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