Romancing the Crown: Max & Elena: The Disenchanted Duke. Marie Ferrarella

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      She smiled sweetly at him. “Until I get my way, you might say that, yes.”

      He had a feeling that she would cost him every time he got close to Weber. He didn’t need any more slipups. Time was money and he wasn’t making any on this venture. This was a favor to his uncle. “Allright, what do you say we team up?”

      It was absolutely the last thing she’d expected him to say—unless he wasn’t on the level.

      “Team up?”

      “Yes, work together to get him.”

      Cara looked at him suspiciously. Not that she was buying into this for a minute. “And then what?”

      “And then we’ll work it out.”

      Just as she’d thought. He was being evasive. Which meant that he didn’t want to tell her. Which meant, in turn, that he intended to shaft her.

      She shook her head. “And then we bring him to the sheriff of Shady Rock. The office is closer than wherever the hell Montebello is.”

      “It’s an island near Cyprus,” he told her automatically. Max couldn’t argue about Colorado being closer and he didn’t want to waste time arguing about any of the rest of it, either. Every minute that went by, Weber was getting farther and farther away. “Okay.” He put out his hand.

      Taking his hand in hers, Cara shook it as she looked up at him. “All right, then it’s a deal.”

      “A deal,” he echoed.

      Her smile never wavered.

      She didn’t trust him any farther than she could throw him.

      Chapter 4

      Separating their hands, she dropped hers to her sides. “So now what, ‘partner’?”

      Max studied her, wishing he knew what was going on in that attractive head of hers. He always liked to know which way the wind was blowing before he set sail. His gut instinct was that, despite the so-called truce between them, he was in danger of standing right in the path of a full-scale gale.

      “Why do I get the feeling that you think that’s a dirty word?”

      Her expression couldn’t have been more innocent than if it had been on the face of an angel in a Renaissance painting.

      “Interpretation, like beauty, is in the eye—or ear—of the beholder, Ryker. I’m just asking a simple question. You’re the one who wanted the partnership.”

      That was like saying he wanted to play with a basket full of snakes. “Wanted might not be the right word here, but in any case, it’s the expedient thing to do, seeing as how we both want Weber and we seem to keep getting in each other’s way.”

      Her eyes narrowed. The innocent expression evaporated. “None of which would happen if you’d get out of my way.”

      About to answer her, Max noticed that the convenience store clerk was unabashedly watching them and all but hanging over the counter. “Something I can do for you, mister?”

      The young man grinned broadly at them, completely missing the implication. “Hey, man, you’re doing it. We don’t get much entertainment around here and my satellite dish is busted. Don’t know when I can get it fixed. This is the most fun I’ve had in weeks.”

      Max took hold of Cara’s arm. “Let’s take this outside.”

      She shrugged him off. “I can walk on my own.”

      “Then walk,” he said, holding the door open for her.

      Miffed, she walked by him, calling him names under her breath that his ancestors might have taken exception to.

      “Spoilsport,” the clerk muttered, returning to his copy of a much folded Victoria’s Secret catalog.

      Max stopped on the sun-rotted wooden porch. “When I got here, just a few minutes ahead of you,” Max added the piece of information before she could ask, “the clerk told me Weber had driven off heading north.”

      Still, that didn’t explain the leap on Ryker’s part. “What makes you think Canada? There’s an awful lot of territory between here and there, a whole battalion of cities and states.”

      He shrugged. “Just a guess. It seems to me that a man with two people coming after him from different directions might just want to get out of the country.”

      That had a germ of truth in it, she grudgingly admitted to herself. But there was still a flaw. “Mexico’s closer.”

      “Yes, but he’s heading north. Last time I checked, Mexico was south.”

      “Maybe he’s trying to confuse us by taking a roundabout route.”

      Max paused. She had a point. “All right, but while we’re standing here, talking, he’s out there, driving.” He indicated the highway. “Let’s just follow the road and see where it leads.”

      Straight to trouble was her guess, but she kept to herself.

      “Fine,” Cara murmured. “I’ll ride point.”

      “Good.” He started to turn to go to his car and realized that she wasn’t following. Turning around, Max saw Cara hurrying to her vehicle. She got in before he had a chance to say a word. The car revved up and was heading up the road in less time than it took to process the image.

      The woman was a loose cannon.

      She had every intention of leaving him in the dust, Max thought with a shake of his head. He’d had a feeling she wouldn’t stick to her end of the bargain. Which was exactly why he’d planted a small homing device, no larger than a spot of lint, on her back as he’d put his hand against her shoulder and escorted her from the store. Shrugging him off hadn’t dislodged it. Once she took off her clothes, of course, she’d notice it, but for the time being, he was assured that she couldn’t get too far away from him.

      Cara Rivers drove like a maniac, he thought, after starting his car and getting on the road. The road stretched out before him and she was nowhere in sight.

      Except on the screen of his monitor.

      A smile curved his mouth. Max took the jacket he’d purposely thrown over the tracking device on the passenger seat of his car and tossed the garment over his shoulder into the back. Rivers was heading due north, just the way she expected Weber to be going.

      Why bother losing him if she meant to go in the direction they’d already agreed on? It didn’t make any sense to him, but then, he thought with an inward, patient sigh, neither did the woman.

      He watched the blip on his monitor and drove due north.

      Twilight was beginning to paint the lonely landscape with long, broad strokes when he caught up with her. It wasn’t through any fancy driving on his part, but a slowdown on hers. More specifically, a complete stop. Her vehicle apparently had died.

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