Free Relentless Seduction by Jillian Burns Page B

followed, but kept a safe distance as Rafe drove farther away from the French Quarter. Up onto the freeway headed toward Lake Pontchartrain, he was driving into a less affluent suburb of New Orleans. There were a couple businesses that had been boarded up, a vacant shopping center surrounded by overgrown weeds. And small, ramshackle houses that had seen better days. This was the kind of poverty-ridden area that bred hopelessness.
    How did he know to come to this area? Her chest hurt to think he might be meeting Shadow here, conspiring with him. She just couldn’t believe that of Rafe.
    The Barracuda made a U-turn, disappearing under a bridge about a quarter of a mile ahead. The overpass was one of several freeways all crisscrossing each other, forming six to eight clover-shaped viaducts overhead. None of which had any lighting beneath them.
    She ordered the cab to pull into a twenty-four-hour convenience store parking lot a few blocks before the overpass, and then twisted in her seat to watch for Rafe’s car to appear on any of the highways. But no black Barracudas came into sight.
    Spinning back around, she huffed out an irritable sigh. The other side of this bridge was a dead-end unless one U-turned back onto the freeway. If he’d somehow realized she was following, he might be sitting over there, idling, possibly waiting for her, or maybe he hadn’t, and had parked and was on foot.
    She could either have the cab take the U-turn and risk Rafe seeing her, or wait here and possibly miss whatever Rafe was doing. Or she could sneak over there on foot.
    Digging into her purse, she found her pepper spray, paid the cabbie and asked him to keep the meter running and wait, then swung open the door and gingerly stepped out.
    Her stomach cramped and her whole body tensed as she all but ran down the sidewalk, casting quick glances at the people around her. Most just stared, but two young men started following her, their shaved heads and thick chains looped from their jeans gleamed in the freeway lights above.
    She drew a ragged breath and prepared herself to cross the street away from the well-lighted store and into the murky shadows under the bridge where the Barracuda had disappeared.
    Glancing behind her at the two skinheads following her, she put her finger on the button that activated her pepper spray and picked up her pace. The footsteps behind her sped up, as well. Her heart pounding, she made it to the other side of the underpass to find herself in a deserted field where several junked cars had been abandoned. And one black Barracuda parked by itself.
    The delinquents behind her caught up and she spun, raising her can of pepper spray. But she fumbled the button and dropped it.
    Both guys covered their eyes until they noticed nothing had happened. Then they grinned.
    She turned and ran, scanning the area for any sign of Rafe.
    “You don’t trust me, Claire?”
    She yelped as Rafe stepped out from behind a huge cement support column for the highway overhead, his arms crossed in front of him.
    “Rafe!” She flew into his arms, shaking in terror. Her heart couldn’t take much more of this.
    For a moment his arms came around her, held her tight. Then he grabbed her shoulders, shoved her to his side and reached behind him, producing the gun. He aimed it at the two thugs, who were only a couple of feet away. “Beat it!”
    The two backed off, cursing and using crude hand gestures.
    After they were gone, he dropped his arm and turned to her. His lips—the same lips that had so sensuously pleasured her in the wee hours of this morning were a tight, hard line. And his eyes practically spit fury. “I ought to leave you out here to the mercies of those two.”
    Claire blinked, looked back at where the skinheads had been and then returned her gaze to Rafe and swallowed. “I—I was only following your advice.”
    His eyes flared, a spark of surprise in them.
    Rafe spun on his heel and strode away, tucking the gun into the