Escaping Vegas (The Inheritance Book 1) (4 page)

Contingency plan A consisted of bartering with a tour bus driver for a ride back to the Southland. Buses packed with seniors made frequent round-trips to the state line, arriving and departing at different intervals. Currently, three buses were lined up adjacent to the entrance, although what their schedules were, she couldn’t say.

Contingency plan B involved begging a semitruck driver for mercy. She thought she had a better shot at that plan, except that meant chatting with a stranger for four hours and coming up with an explanation as to why she needed a ride in the first place.

More distraught by the second, Madalina scoured the parking lot, her mind working furiously through plans of action. Squinting when a new pair of headlights flashed across the entrance, Madalina wilted with relief to see the familiar black Jaguar. In the next instant, as if she suffered bipolar problems, irritation and annoyance surfaced.

Where the hell had he been?

She headed to the car, opened the door, and fell into the seat.

“I thought I saw the sedan in the parking lot while I was finding a decent place to hide, and had to wait until the car was gone to come get you,” he said right off the bat.

“We should have exchanged phone numbers or something. I thought you’d changed your mind and left me here.” The irritation faded as his explanation sank in. Once more, relief was the stronger emotion of the two. She suspected that anyone unused to being on the run, being
hunted
, would have similar reactions.

The scent of his cologne, musky and spicy and a little sexy, had grown on Madalina in the two hours she’d known him. Inhaling while she fastened her belt, she thought she should be worried to hear he’d possibly spotted the Asians, but her internal angst meter was already pegged to the hilt.

He cruised around a parked SUV and drove toward the frontage road. “You think I’d leave you stranded?” he asked.

Madalina glanced sidelong at him, guilt flushing her cheeks. “Not really. Maybe. I don’t know. Although I suppose I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

“That’s not my style.” He checked his mirrors and aimed for the freeway on-ramp.

“What
is
your style?” she asked, setting her purse on the floor beside her feet. She couldn’t help looking out the windows, front and back, although she wasn’t sure what she expected to see. Darkness made it all but impossible to pick out any details on distant cars.

“This. Doing what I’m doing.
Not
leaving a woman stranded when she’s clearly in trouble.”

“You know, I was thinking about that. What if this is all a case of mistaken identity? What if they have the wrong woman? That’s possible, isn’t it?”

“Possible, but not probable. It took guts and a little desperation for them to take you out of the casino, risking security or the cops being called. I don’t think they’d make a move unless they were sure they had the right person.” He reached over to turn the air up and adjust the vents. The Jaguar blended with traffic, which was mildly heavy this close to the state line. Ahead, as the long road stretched into the desert, the congestion faded to a few red eyes that glowed bright only when the brakes came on.

“None of this makes much sense to me,” Madalina admitted, bracing her elbow on the sill so she could rest her head in her palm. She glanced at Cole with a frequency she hoped he didn’t notice. He was much better to look at than the nothingness out the window, and the distraction helped manage her stress.

“And it won’t until you get some answers. Did your grandfather leave anything to your mom and dad?” He met her eyes briefly.

“A small vacation house in Rio and five thousand dollars. My grandfather liked to travel, even though he wasn’t a rich man. He knew I wouldn’t pull up roots to go to Brazil, so he left the house to my parents.”

“Brazil, huh? Interesting. No little collectible dragons or fairies or anything like that?” he asked.

“Nothing they ever mentioned. My folks wanted to give me the house
and
the five grand, because they knew—” She paused, then changed the course of her reply. “Because they wanted me to see a little more of the world. I’m the only one in four generations who hasn’t been bitten by the travel bug.”

He glanced across the car again, as if he sensed she’d switched her comment. “Have you ever been out of the states?”

“No. I’ve been all over this country, though. East coast, north, west, you name it. My parents made sure I experienced as much as I could during school breaks.” Unable to help herself, Madalina said, “What about you? Do you travel a lot with your job?”

“All the time. I’ve been pretty much everywhere.”

Madalina tried to guess his age. He definitely wasn’t straight out of high school or even his early twenties. Cole had outgrown the exuberance of youth and handled himself like a seasoned man. He didn’t have a lot of wrinkles, but he did have laugh lines at the corners of his mouth and a few crinkles around his eyes. “What was your favorite place to visit?”

“That’s too hard to call. I’m a fan of Europe, though, and I’ve been to Rio. Your parents better like busy cities.”

“They’ll get by.” After a moment, she asked, “Where is it that you make your home?”

“I live in Rhode Island, but I’m not there very much. And I have several rentals other places. Canada, London, Italy.”

“You really do get around.”

“More than you realize.” He laughed quietly.

On impulse, Madalina reached over to turn up the radio. She heard the faintest strains of music, but couldn’t make out songs or lyrics. Cole was an interesting specimen, and she found herself curious about his personal preferences. A rock song spilled out of the speakers—nothing too hard, definitely not metal.

“You can change that if you want to.” He surveyed the rearview mirror. After another glance, he frowned. A subtle but telling expression.

Madalina, stealing glances of her own, noticed his distraction. “What?”

“It’s probably nothing. A car, coming up fast.”

The brief spate of relaxation evaporated in an instant. She sat straighter in her seat, body humming with fresh tension. “Do you think it’s them?”

“Not likely. But I prefer to keep an eye on it until the car passes us by.”

“You’re not going to keep ahead of it?”

“No. We’ll see who it is. I’ve decided I don’t want to play cat and mouse for the next three hours, wondering if they’ll suddenly ram us or start shooting.”

“They wouldn’t, would they?” The thought terrified Madalina. There was nothing for miles and miles but barren, irritatingly hot desert. Even if she and Cole escaped a shooting, they would have to call for help. Stranded on the roadside for hours left them vulnerable to another attack.

“Can’t say for sure.” After a moment, he said, “Get ready. Here they come.”

C
HAPTER
F
OUR

C
ole tightened his hands on the wheel. It wasn’t entirely from the wariness of the speeding vehicle coming up fast on the left; Madalina’s questions had spurred some of his own, until he’d found himself discussing things like parents, traveling, and residences. Next thing he knew, she’d bring up weddings and babies, and that would never do. He reminded himself that he needed to be here and that he
was
finding out necessary things about her.

When the car caught up to the Jaguar, Cole gripped the wheel and maintained a steady speed of sixty-seven, a slower pace than the hectic hundred-mile-an-hour escape from Vegas. One glance out his window proved that the Chinese agents, crafty and smart and excellent strategists, had found them once again. He didn’t have time to think about where the men had picked up their trail. For all he knew, the men had seen them get off the highway and, because the freeway only went north or south, had simply waited until spotting the Jag speeding up the on-ramp—because he had a more pressing issue: how to end the chase once and for all. He understood why the assailants had chosen to hang back and follow, preferring to make a move here, where the gloomy Mojave Desert, empty of houses and business and life in general, provided few witnesses to a blatant attack.

Cole swerved the Jaguar sharply left, as if he intended to ram the sedan. The scare tactic sent the sedan veering to the far side of the double-lane highway, nearly off the road entirely, which gave him the opportunity to speed up. The Jaguar handled brilliantly, surging lengths ahead in seconds. He topped eighty, ninety, ignoring Madalina’s gasp and whimper. Digging out a gun from a sheath attached to the front of his seat beneath his legs, he set the weapon sideways on his lap and hit the brakes hard, sending the car into a sideways skid. Once it came to a stop crosswise in the middle of the road, he rolled down his window, picked up the gun, and thumbed the safety off. The sedan sped straight for them, probably intending to T-bone the Jaguar.

“They’re going to hit us! Cole! What are you doing?” Madalina shouted.

Calmly breathing through his nose, Cole popped off several rounds. He didn’t aim for the windshield or the occupants, although that would have been a more permanent solution. He shot out the tires, satisfied to see the sedan start to fishtail and lose control. Tucking the gun down between the seat and the console, he spun the wheel and sped away from the hurtling sedan, thankful that this desolate stretch of highway had no travelers in their immediate vicinity. Headlights a mile or more up the road, and perhaps a mile behind, were no issue for Cole. No one would be able to tell what he’d done or that he’d used a weapon to stop his adversary. Back in the correct lane, he slammed the pedal down and got the hell out of there. In the rearview mirror, the sedan was on the side of the road, out of commission for now.

Glancing aside, he met Madalina’s disbelieving stare. He said, “They were on our tail. Now they’re not.”

“How did you . . . when . . . they could have—”

“But they didn’t. I’m a professional—didn’t I mention that?”

“You drive like a stunt car driver in the movies!”

Cole surprised himself and laughed. He never saw his driving skills as anything other than necessity. “Maybe. I can teach you how.”

Madalina scoffed and flipped a hand in the air, as if the idea was preposterous. Her indignation amused him despite the serious situation they found themselves in.

“It’s good to know how to drive defensively,” he said. “It comes in handy now and again.”

“Yes, if you’re James Bond, which I’m clearly not,” she said. Her voice trembled. She released the console and laid a hand over her heart.

“I’m not either, and you can see what it did for us.” In his periphery, he saw her shoot him a suspicious glance.

“You’re not really a bodyguard, are you?” she asked, as if she suddenly
knew
he’d been lying to her.

Had Cole been less experienced, less in control of himself and his reactions, her declaration might have startled a guilty look out of him. “What? Yes, I am.”

“You’re ex-CIA or FBI or Special Squad Something-or-Other, aren’t you? No one drives and shoots like that.”

He barked a laugh, allowing amusement to get the better of him. “Honey, I am one hundred and fifty percent
not
with the CIA or an ex-special operative from any division.”

“I’m not sure I believe you.” She sounded somewhat mollified, however.

He checked his mirrors after glimpsing a hint of color on her cheeks. She would have been a pleasure to seduce under different circumstances. “But do you trust me?”

Silence descended in the car. Finally, after a contemplative moment, she said, “Actually—yes. Yes, I do.”

Cole didn’t expect the flush of guilt and regret he experienced at her confession.

It’s all part of the job. Get over it.

By the time they reached Victorville, Madalina had sufficiently recovered from the resonant, sexy “
honey
” Cole had so casually thrown into the conversation. The distraction of hearing the endearment—one he probably used on many women—helped her get past the panic at his Bond moves in the car. It wasn’t often Madalina found herself in awe of anyone—but Cole was an exception. The brake-and-slide move had impressed the hell out of her. Scared her half to death, but impressed her nevertheless. She’d spent the ensuing ride in companionable silence, thinking about everything that had happened in Vegas, and since. Cole had proven to be trustworthy, dependable, and excellent at keeping her out of the hands of her assailants. Men who were willing to kidnap her, force them off the road, and who knew what else. She tried to hide her distress over the situation from Cole, but the closer they got to Los Angeles, the more nervous she became.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he said into the silence.

“It’s a buck-fifty. Inflation,” she retorted in a quiet voice. She heard him draw in a breath, as if he might laugh. He didn’t—more the pity. Cole West had an alluring, appealing laugh. Full throated, slightly raspy, like his speaking voice.

“All right. A buck-fifty.”

“I was wondering what I’m going to do when I get home.”
What I’m going to do without you to consult in emergencies.
All of a sudden, she had a brilliant idea. “Wait. How much do you charge for your services?”

Cole rubbed the side of his chin with two fingers. He didn’t take his eyes off the road. “You know, I mentioned that you don’t have to pay me for driving you back to LA. I offered—”

“No, not for this. But for tomorrow, and the next day. Until I can figure out what to do. How much do you charge for bodyguard services?” Madalina thought she had found a way to keep him with her under better circumstances than begging and pleading. She really didn’t have the money for this, but she also didn’t want to be kidnapped. Or worse.

“Seven hundred dollars a day, base price.”

Madalina wheezed. “
What?
”

He smiled, and Madalina realized that it was the first time she’d seen him smile like that. Broad, devilish, yet a touch boyish, too.

“You didn’t think risking my life for strangers came cheap, did you?”

“But . . . oh.” Madalina simply couldn’t afford it. She might have been able to swing two-fifty or three, for a few days only, but not seven hundred per day. “I suppose not. I guess I don’t get out enough or something. So seven hundred is the base price—you mean it fluctuates up from there?”

“Yes. Depending on how far I have to travel, how dangerous the assignment is, and how high profile the client.”

“My goodness.”

“It can be a demanding job.”

“So can dealing with uppity, high-maintenance women who expect three-thousand-dollar dresses for fifty bucks.” Sometimes owning a clothing boutique that catered to the upper middle class could be downright frustrating.

“It’s funny. When I first ran into you in the Luxor, I thought
you
were uppity and high maintenance.”

Gasping, Madalina glanced across the car. “What? I am anything but uppity and high maintenance.”

“The jury is still out on that.”

“I could really use a drink. And I’m not bringing it up because I’m
high maintenance
, but because I’ve been in the car for three hours and I’m thirsty.” She got a little sassy with him, although inwardly, she contemplated whether or not she really
was
high maintenance.

“And you say you’re not uppity,” he muttered, checking the rearview mirror before taking the next exit.

“It was a request!”

He shot her a disbelieving look tinged with ill-concealed humor.

“Just get me something to drink, James,” she retorted to his glance, harking back to the Bond conversation.

“That’ll be fifteen-fifty, gypsy girl,” he countered glibly, as if he intended to start charging her piecemeal instead of per day. Madalina muffled a laugh against the knuckles of her closed fist.

Victorville was a sprawling city of light, even at this hour of the morning. The grid stretched away from the freeway on both sides, fading into the distance of the dark desert. The businesses clustered near the I-15 glowed with overhead lighting—the bright signs for gas, fast food, and other services on prominent display.

“What do you want? Drive through or stop at the convenience store and stretch your legs?” he asked.

“Is it safe to get out?”

“Probably. I can’t be sure, but so far, I haven’t seen anyone who looks like they’re on our tail. I’m betting that other car will be out of commission for an hour at least.” He turned into a gas station, a convenience store with a large sign across the front of the white and red building. Gas pumps sat ready for service under a matching red and white awning.

“This is fine. I’ll only be a second. Do you want something?”

“I’m going to fill up while you get drinks. Grab me a bottle of water.” He eased the Jaguar to a stop right in front of the doors. There were few cars in the parking lot this late, which meant he wasn’t in jeopardy of blocking anyone in.

Madalina didn’t waste time. She headed inside, cutting through the candy aisle toward the refrigeration units. A cold burst of air caressed her skin as she opened a door where different labels of water sat in neat rows. Madalina chose two and pulled them from the rack. She walked her purchases to the counter, made small talk with the skinny, beak-nosed clerk, and declined a bag when he offered one. Madalina wasn’t sure what to think of the small blitz of excitement she experienced seeing Cole leaning against the car, the nozzle tucked into the gas tank. He surveyed the streets, the parking lot, the front of the store—where his gaze paused on her for a moment.

Another, smaller thrill rushed through her. She hurried across the parking lot, aware that it was dangerous to linger. For the first time in a long time, Madalina felt alive in unfamiliar ways. She considered the incredible idea that she’d become a little tired and jaded with life these last few years, that she’d allowed work to consume her. She was twenty-four—too young to feel so set in her ways. Although she didn’t appreciate the unexpected danger that could crop up any second, she was also becoming used to the rush of adrenaline. Meeting Cole’s eyes across the top of the car, she opened the door. His expression was unreadable, complicated—just like the man. Sliding into the seat, she set the bottles into the cup holders, dragged her purse onto her lap, and was just about to close the door when Cole appeared. He met her eyes again, then tapped the door shut. Twisting a look over her shoulder, she tracked his progress around the back of the Jaguar, then reached for her drink. She didn’t know what to make of all the lingering glances, except that they were getting to her. He exuded poise and confidence that she found highly appealing. Once in the driver’s seat, he started the car.

“Thanks,” he said, pulling away from the pump.

“You’re welcome.” After a much-needed drink of water, she said, “In times like these, when it’s calm and normal, I’m almost convinced that no one is out there hunting me down.”

Cole took the entrance to the freeway. He said, “They are. They’re out there, and they’re not finished with you yet.”