Undercover Justice. Nico Rosso
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Название: Undercover Justice

Автор: Nico Rosso

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Ужасы и Мистика

Серия: Mills & Boon Heroes

isbn: 9781474093828

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ into the back seat and climbed in next to him.

      His hands hovered over the steering wheel and shifter for a moment. She understood this moment of assessing a vehicle before entering into a relationship with it. The car was modified and bare-bones. Racing seats and analog gauges. It didn’t even have floor mats. But when Arash turned the engine over, she could feel the power in the quick growl. She hit the garage door opener on the visor, letting daylight in. Arash put the car in Reverse and eased out.

      “How is it?” She closed the garage once they were clear.

      “It’s good.” He didn’t sound convinced. “But I could make it better.” Throwing it in First, he sped them away from the house. “Find us some breakfast, and a mall. I need clothes.” From the way he was squinting, he needed sunglasses, too.

      She put on her own sunglasses and pulled out her phone to search for their next stop. Again, the urge to contact the others at Frontier Justice made her pause before switching to the navigation. But she was still far from being in a safe space. She knew the whole internal debate didn’t last long enough for Arash to see her hesitation. He drove without comment as she directed them toward a mall.

      Lack of sleep put a frothy edge around the bright, cool day. Things grew more ordinary when they parked and walked to the chain coffee shop on the perimeter of the mall. The morning crowd was still in full effect, restraining Stephanie and Arash’s conversation to the bare minimum. They certainly couldn’t compare notes about their first night in the midst of a criminal gang.

      She ate and felt more human with each sip of her latte. Arash leaned his elbows on the table, both hands around his cup of coffee. He glanced surreptitiously at the others around them before asking, “What do you normally drive?”

      The unexpected question made her shiver, as if an intimate barrier had been crossed. “’74 Datsun 260Z.” No way would she have pretended to steal that one for Olesk.

      He sat back and assessed her with surprise. And there was a hint of sadness in his eyes that blinked away before she could fully explore it. He mouthed a couple of words, then finally said, “You’re hot.”

      “Changed the timing and compression ratio for more horses.” She adjusted the hang of her bob along her cheek. “Got the suspension low and tight, just how I like it.”

      He moaned sensuously, drawing a couple of looks. After licking his lips, he ventured, “Color?”

      “Brick red. Matte.”

      “Hell, yes.” He thumped the side of his fist on the tabletop. A growing sexual energy in him caught her up. Breath ran hot in her and an effervescent tingle spiked her fingers and toes. And in a moment it was gone. Arash’s face frosted over and he focused back on his cup of coffee. “I’d like to see it sometime.”

      She leaned forward and whispered, “Just don’t steal it.” Part of her missed the brief carnal connection they’d shared, but she knew it was for the best to keep this kind of contact shut down.

      “No promises.” He stood and nodded toward the door. She moved with him and they were soon back in the bright, cold sun. They’d only walked a couple dozen yards from the coffee shop when a car started up nearby and Arash froze.

      His sudden reaction sent her into high alert. Electric charges shot through her legs, ready to move. She’d left her pistol in her bag in the car, knowing they were in too populated an area to carry it, but she did have a switchblade in her pocket. “What is it?” she hissed, looking about for the threat.

      “Can you hear it? Car trouble.” He motioned her toward the idling, twenty-year-old sedan in a nearby parking spot and approached the driver with a greeting wave. A Latina woman dressed for an office job sat in the front seat, eyeing him cautiously. He pulled up at a nonthreatening distance and pointed at the front of the car. “I’m not trying to sell you anything. I just heard a little problem.”

      The driver rolled her window down, her gaze switching between Arash and Stephanie. “I’m on my way to work and I don’t have time...”

      Arash kept his hands open and nodded. “I want to get you to work. No BS. If you could just rev the engine for a second.”

      The woman kept her hand on the shifter, ready to throw it into Drive and run, but did give the engine some gas while idling. Arash cocked his head, then nodded again. He maintained his distance and turned to Stephanie. “Do you hear it?”

      She listened to the revving motor and found nothing out of the ordinary for a car of that age and make. But when the driver released the gas and brought it back to idle, a faint metallic double knock caught Stephanie’s attention. “I think I got it.”

      Arash turned his attention back to the driver. “So there’s a sound, a double knock, that goes away when you rev, but I hear it in your idle. Get your ride to a mechanic you trust and tell them that you might have a bad piston pin. They’ll track it down. Take care of it soon, before it turns into big trouble.”

      The woman revved the engine again, squinting and concentrating when she brought it back to idle. Stephanie picked up the double knock again, but couldn’t tell if the driver detected the sound. The driver seemed less skeptical and warmed with a small smile. “Thanks. I’ll get it looked at.” She put her car in Drive and headed out of the parking lot, waving out the window before she turned onto the boulevard.

      Once she was gone, Arash continued his walk across the parking lot toward the mall. Stephanie strode with him, studying his face out of the corner of her eye, trying to find the motivation for what he just did. Instead of looking smug, or downright cocky, his expression was neutral. “You’ve got a good ear,” she told him.

      He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. In the light of day she saw that it was a simple black work jacket, heavy cotton with a corduroy collar. “Been living next to engines long enough.”

      “But you’ve got a soft heart.” She couldn’t puzzle him out at all.

      “Not when it comes to business.” His eyes hardened. He tipped his head in the direction where the woman had driven off. “I wasn’t going to make any money off that ride. Wasn’t going to fix it, steal it, part it out, joyride it or use it in a getaway. She was just trying to get to work, and I know a lot of people like that.”

      Sure, that sounded on the level, but did he know that by taking the gig with Olesk, Arash would be running boys and girls for some of the worst criminals in the country? Those people were just trying to live their lives, as well. Stephanie’s chest tightened thinking about them. Before that anger took her over and she railed at Arash, she asked simply, “So what’s your ride?”

      “Mazda RX-7 Turbo II, ’89.”

      “I can see that.” He would fit well into the low-slung sports car, and there were plenty of opportunities to tune the ride into a well-handling street rocket. “White, with a turquoise roof?” It was from the ’80s, after all.

      He chuckled. “Matte black, completely murdered out.” A hint of warmth cracked through his stony face. “That car...it’s what my parents would’ve driven if they’d had any money once they’d settled in the States after getting out of Iran in the late ’70s.”

      She kept reminding herself to hate him, or at least that she couldn’t trust him, but hearing his softer tone when talking about his parents, or seeing the way he’d gone out of his way with the woman in the parking СКАЧАТЬ