Bulletproof Bride. Diana Duncan

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      “Do you know where he held you? Could you find it again?”

      “It was dark. I stumbled onto the highway by sheer luck.”

      “Did he have the bags with him?” Though Gregson’s tone remained level, he leaned forward, betraying his interest.

      Goose bumps crawled over her skin. Something was very wrong. “I have no idea.”

      He steepled his thick fingers and stared at her over them. “You’re not being very cooperative.”

      She managed another casual shrug. “I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”

      “A teller went home sick that day and you took over the vault.” His eyes glittered as coldly as black ice. “Did you open the shipment before the perpetrator arrived on the scene?”

      How did he know that? This had to be about the misplaced payroll checks. But why? And in order to know about the checks, he had to be involved. Her nerves thrummed on a surge of adrenaline. The bags had been sealed before she got them, and afterward, no one had seen the contents except Gabe. But this man was no friend of Gabe’s; she knew that as well as her own name. “I didn’t have a chance.”

      His fleshy lips compressed into a cruel line. “Stop the games. Your vault teller confirmed you counted the shipment. What was in the bags?”

      He’d obviously done his homework. She swallowed down her rising unease and managed a dry chuckle. “Money, of course.”

      With surprising speed for a man his size, Gregson surged to his feet. He stalked over and stood behind her chair, silent and unmoving. She could feel his cold-blooded gaze drilling into the back of her head, and she clutched the edge of the table.

      “Time for a private discussion.” He gripped her arm and jerked her up. A gun barrel stabbed into her ribs. “We’re leaving, without a fuss. There’s a silencer on this piece, I’ll drop you and disappear before anybody knows what happened. One squeak and you’re dead, understand?”

      Numb with disbelief and fear, she nodded.

      The giant yanked her to the doorway, and peered out. She fought to control her breathing. Surely he wouldn’t be able to abduct her from the police station! Someone would notice. Especially if she made a help-me face.

      “Don’t even think about trying to attract attention,” he said as if he’d read her mind. “I have a buddy who works here. He tipped me off to your presence, and he’ll make sure nobody sees us.”

      So much for someone noticing and coming to her rescue. Time to switch to Plan B. Problem was, what was Plan B? Her palms grew damp and her heart raced as Gregson hustled her down the deserted corridor and out the back. She needed a plan!

      Outside, a motorcycle cop lounged on his bike with a paper cup of coffee, his white helmet and sunglasses reflecting the bright sun. Gregson muttered an obscenity. “The coast was supposed to be clear.” He rammed the gun tighter into her ribs, and a sharp ache pierced her side. “Smile and walk,” he growled into her ear. “If you involve the cop, I’ll kill him.”

      With a frozen grimace pasted on her face, she managed to stay upright and totter what felt like miles to a black van. Gregson opened the passenger door, and the dark interior loomed in front of her. Think! Maybe she could convince him to let her drive. A low-speed crash might allow her to escape.

      “Sir,” the cop called. “Your taillight is broken.”

      Tessa’s heart gave a wild leap. She’d know that silky voice anywhere! Then her throat constricted. Gregson had said he wouldn’t hesitate to kill, and she believed him.

      Gregson jerked to a stop. “Not a word,” he threatened. He slid the gun into his jacket pocket, keeping his hand on it as they turned around.

      Gabe sauntered toward them. Dressed in the tight navy uniform, tall black boots, helmet and sunglasses, his lean, muscular body emanated a barely leashed power. Danger hummed under his graceful movements and careless smile. She slanted a glance at Gregson, but he didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. Then again, the behemoth holding her captive had a loaded gun in his hand and Gabe’s pistol was securely strapped to his side.

      “Probably vandals.” Gabe gestured. “Better take a look.”

      She had to tell him about the gun!

      “Yeah.” Gregson reluctantly lumbered toward the rear of the van.

      Tessa opened her mouth to speak.

      Gabe lowered his sunglasses a fraction and his eyes flashed a warning before he pushed the glasses back.

      She snapped her mouth shut.

      As Gregson rounded the back bumper, Gabe’s arm shot out. With a bone-crunching thud, his fist smashed into the hulk’s nose. Before the other man could react, Gabe grabbed him by the shoulder, spun him around and slammed his head into the van. Gregson crumpled to the asphalt like a deflated beach ball.

      Her rescuer flashed a sardonic grin before he grabbed her arm and hustled her toward the motorcycle. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this, Houdini.” They reached the bike and he swung a long, muscled leg over the seat. “Hike up that skirt and hop aboard.”

      As she bunched the winter-white skirt of her suit up her thighs, Gabe slid the sunglasses down his nose and his verdant gaze grew warm and smoky. “I ought to arrest you.” He shook his head. “It’s definitely a crime to hide those legs under a granny skirt, sweetheart.”

      Her stomach flip-flopped at the expression in his eyes. Hunger? No, impossible. He must be joking again. She climbed on behind him and flung her arms around his waist. The machine roared to life between her legs. The roar grew deafening and the bike sped out of the parking lot. “Are you a cop or a criminal?” she shouted over the throaty growl of the engine.

      His broad back shook with laughter. “Well, honey,” he tossed over his shoulder. “I guess that depends on who you ask.”

      Chapter 4

      Tessa clung to Gabe as the scenery flew by in a blur. For the second time in three days, she’d been stolen away by this green-eyed pirate.

      She hugged his waist, her face pressed against him. Heat from his broad back radiated through the dark blue uniform and warmed her breasts, making them tingle. The bike tipped to the left and her locked hands convulsed.

      He shifted. “Leave me a little breathing room, would you?”

      “Sorry,” she mumbled, loosening her stranglehold a fraction. His hips were wedged closely between her spread legs, his hard thighs pressed against hers. Belated awareness of their intimate position dawned and embarrassment washed over her.

      He squeezed her clenched fists reassuringly. “Trust me, honey. I’m not going to let you fall.”

      Twenty wild, hair-raising minutes later, Gabe leaned to the right, and the bike shot down the airport exit. He pulled up to a helipad and killed the engine. The motor spat out a metallic ping. He jumped off, offering his hand. “Watch the hot muffler.”

      “What are you up to now?” she accused.

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