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“What dreams did you lose?” she whispers.
My heart crashes against my chest. I force myself to loosen my grip on her, though it feels like ripping part of myself off. I close the door and stalk around to get into the driver’s seat.
“Dane.”
God. She could say anything—hell, she could call me every name in the book—and her warm, slightly husky tone would bring me to my knees every time.
“I didn’t want to get caught again,” she says, “but if it had to happen, I’m glad you’re the one who caught me.”
My heart twists strangely. I start the car and maneuver out of the gas station.
“We’ll stop at a hotel.” I turn onto the road. “You can shower and catch a few hours’ sleep.”
Before I hand you over to the police.
The unspoken words cut through the air like a blade. I feel her guard shoot up.
I don’t know what the fuck to do. There’s no way I can turn her in.
I also can’t let her go. Benny will just send someone else after her.
A ridiculous image flashes in my head of the two of us disappearing. Hiding out forever. I’ll take her to a tropical island where no one but me will ever touch her again.
Idiot.
I don’t want Hannah to let go of her dreams. She’s a sunrise—golden, radiant, and full of promise. She can make anything happen.
But I’ve lived in reality for too damn long to think even my smallest hope will ever come true.
ChapterEight
Hannah
Dane pullsinto the circular entryway of a high-rise hotel and gets out, tossing his keys to a valet before collecting our travel bags from the back. We’re in San Jose, less than an hour from San Francisco. After a shower and sleep, we’ll be back in the city by daylight.
Picking up my purse, I follow him into the lobby. He stops at the reception desk, his muscular back like a perfect inverted triangle.
He’s sosolid. So damn big and secure. If he were holding me in the midst of a tsunami-hurricane-typhoon combination, I’d feel as safe as a caterpillar wrapped in a cocoon. He’d never let me go.
I wouldn’t want him to either. And while I don’t for a second think that one hot encounter will change his mind about bringing me back to the police, I’m not ready to be separated from him just yet.
I need to clear my name, and I want to get away from “the bounty hunter,” but I crave more of Dane Armstrong the man.I want more of the things he can do—like dissolving reality, making me feel like someone different and new, and opening up a whole new dimension of feeling.
You can do anything. Be anything.
His words, spoken with such fierce conviction, still zing around inside me like a pinball. Lighting me up.
Yes,I wanted to respond.Yes, I can.
I’ve known the man for less than three hours, yet never in my life have I believed someone more than I believe him.
Rather ironic given that I’m his captive.
“Ready?” He turns from the counter, his gaze landing on me with the precision of a laser.
I nod, and we cross the polished marble floor to the bank of elevators.
“Nice place,” I offer as he punches the button for the twelfth floor. “Bounty hunting must pay well.”
