Free Princess by Christina Skye Page B

his backpack. “I’d better shove off.”
    “Take some coffee with you.” She filled a big insulated travel mug and added milk.
    Just a splash. No sugar. Exactly the way he liked it.
    Suddenly the room felt too small and far too intimate. Hawk took a step back. “The road is out down the coast.” He handed her a map with the problem area circled in red. “You’ll have to detour west a few miles. I marked the turns for you.”
    She frowned at the map for a few moments, then pulled a pair of reading glasses out of her purse. “Say one word, and you’re a dead man,” she muttered.
    The glasses were pink with blue stripes, and for some reason Hawk found them sexy as hell. “Aren’t you a little young for—”
    “Not a word.”
    Hawk watched her study the map. “Okay, I’ll shut up about—about the things you’re wearing. By the way, Izzy had your Jeep checked out last night. Nothing major was broken, but he had a few things replaced, including your bumper. Your treads were worn on the right front tire, so he took care of that, too.”
    “Thank you,” she said gravely. “Things have been a little tight financially . . . but never mind about that. I fixed this for you.”
    Hawk realized that she was holding out a plastic bag.
    “What’s this?”
    “You’re going to need energy today, so I put in two apples and a jelly donut.”
    As he took the plastic bag, her wide, generous smile warmed the room.
    To his shock Hawk felt a tiny moment of regret at leaving.
    But he didn’t have time for anything soft and pleasant. The wind was growling and the headache ratcheted up a notch as he zipped his jacket and stashed her plastic bag of food. There was no reason for him to delay any longer.
    “Watch those turns in the rain,” he said. “That Jeep of yours is tough, but it’s no Ducati.” Then he shouldered his backpack and headed outside without saying goodbye.
    Packed and dressed, Jess stood in the elevator and watched the big metal doors close.
    For some reason she couldn’t get the tall, unsmiling lieutenant out of her mind.
    Stupid. Worse than stupid.
    She was smart enough to know that the man had
danger
written all over him. Any doubts had vanished with painful clarity when he loomed out of the darkness and pinned her against the wall in a chokehold. All because she’d gone for a smashed granola bar in the bottom of her suitcase.
    Of course, he’d warned her that he was a light sleeper.
    “Fine,” she muttered.
And stop apologizing for the man.
    Jess tapped her foot nervously as the elevator stopped at floor after empty floor on a slow descent. Someone appeared to be playing a joke with the buttons.
    She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She hated elevators. Every stop jangled her nerves a little more.
    The doors closed again. With a little lurch, the elevator started down once more while Jess stared at the floor indicator.
    Just before leaving, she’d found out that the hotel manager had filed an angry protest about her report, which meant her records would be checked and rechecked, every name and detail verified.
    And Jess was suddenly tired of the pretenses, tired of traveling three hundred and forty-five days a year under an assumed name.
    But three years at a small liberal arts college didn’t provide the background for technical or professional work, and the thought of working in sales left her cold.
    One floor down, the elevator doors opened again. A man in a leather coat and small, expensive designer glasses got on, studying her avidly. “You here with the orthodontists’ convention?”
    “Afraid not.”
    He looked her up and down, then shrugged and stepped off at the next floor.
    As the doors slid shut, Jess felt a stab of anxiety. She gripped her suitcase, frowning when the lights flickered several times. Probably from the storm, she thought nervously. Maybe she should get off at the next floor and walk down.
    But when the doors opened again, she was stunned to see Hawk walking