Free THE RISK OF LOVE AND MAGIC by Patricia Rice

cruised the perimeter. Scissors. Round brush still in the packaging. Purple beads.
    “Why did no one tell me places like this exist?” she asked deliriously, piling up treasures on the counter. “I detest malls, but this is perfect! I’ll just do without underwear.”
    She practically felt Magnus Max’s gaze dip to her breasts. She definitely felt her nipples tighten.
    He dropped jeans and various shirts on the counter. “There are other stores around,” he said in that gravelly deep voice that had the ability to pierce her innards. “Socks and shoes might be useful. Toothbrushes and razors because a B&B won’t provide them. I’m starting to feel like a porcupine.”
    She studied his studly villain appearance: stubborn square jaw, strong cheekbones, planed jaw bristling with manly beard, and the damned crew-cut. “You could grow a beard as a disguise and I’d call you Black Bart,” she offered. “But if you have to be practical . . .” She tried to give him a disapproving look, hoping he’d back off.
    Sloppy, nerdy her was becoming entirely too aware of jock pilot him.
    He slapped cash on the counter and carried her sacks outside, forcing her to follow. “No beard,” he said. “No Black Bart. If you won’t go all goofy over racks of pink princess outfits, we can Google up a Target and drive inland, pick up the necessities and maybe a pizza for dinner.”
    “Goofy?” Letting him stride ahead of her, she stopped in front of a salon. She could whack her own hair with her new scissors as she’d been doing since college, but just once . . . wouldn’t it be nice to have it professionally done?
    She hated asking Mad Max for anything more. Maybe tomorrow, when she had her own card. Wickedly, she stepped inside, just to see how long it would take him to discover she wasn’t trailing behind him.
    She made an appointment for the next morning. Max was waiting for her outside when she emerged.
    “You could have signaled,” he said, waiting patiently for her to precede him down the street this time.
    “You wouldn’t have noticed if I’d smacked you on the back of the head with a palm tree.” She wanted to investigate all the fascinating little boutiques they passed. She apparently hesitated too long admiring the work of a tattoo artist—Max caught her arm and moved her onward.
    Maybe she should keep dallying so he’d keep holding on to her. Except she needed to focus on Vera, not the improbable.
    “The more time we spend in public, the more likely we are to be noticed. I don’t think the general will take your escape lightly. All it takes is one Facebook photo . . .” He let the sentence dangle ominously.
    She hurried onward but the reminder only made her angrier. “I’ve never had a life,” she protested bitterly. “Once I find Vera and get out of here, I’m going to be a shopkeeper. I’ll make my own hours and go shopping anytime I like. Or go bowling. Or to a fair.”
    “You’ve never done any of that?” he asked with frank curiosity, studying her through those clear gray eyes that gave her shivers.
    “Jo-jo’s idea of fun was target practice and karate. Want me to chop a board in two?”
    “No, thank you. You’re better off knowing how to kick an assailant in the nuts. Muggers normally don’t carry boards.”
    “Yeah, my thought exactly. And mostly, the real thieves are hidden behind computers anyway. Or carry guns. I wouldn’t stand a chance against a gun, even if I owned one. So I’m thinking it’s best not to go places where people carry guns.” Nadine wondered if they’d be safe in Costa Rica. She would look up crime statistics.
    “Better yet, don’t flash gold in places where people carry guns. And don’t do drugs or rob banks.”
    She jabbed a bony elbow into his side. “You’re not amusing.” She’d never talked to a man the way she did with this one, but Magnus Maximus begged for retaliation.
    “I’m just trying to figure out if you have any idea that gun