Alias Smith and Jones by Kylie Brant

Author:Kylie Brant [Brant, Kylie]
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Suspense
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2009-07-10T05:00:00+00:00

Ana had never been so exhausted in her life. She huddled next to the building on the outskirts of the city, her arms clasped around her legs, chin resting on her knees. Her body was shaking with a mixture of weariness and shock. Jones was seated next to her, digging in that infernal backpack of his once again.

Her head was spinning, so she closed her eyes. The pounding adrenaline had long since drained. Her limbs were weak and achy. Her heels had been rubbed raw by her sandals, which owed more to fashion than to comfort. It seemed a lifetime ago since she’d had a moment of sleep. Or a glass of water. She’d kill for either.

Without opening her eyes, she muttered, “You don’t happen to have a canteen in that terrorist handbag of yours, do you?”

“No. Sorry.”

She opened one eye, looked at him. The shock of discovering who’d grabbed her in the offices, coupled with the escape amid a shower of bullets, had shifted her surprise at his appearance to a much lower priority. But delayed curiosity rose now, and wouldn’t be stifled.

“Does Rambo know you’ve stolen his outfit?”

His voice was sour. “Funny.”

“No,” her voice was reflective, “what’s funny is you appearing in the capitol, dressed like a second-story man, complete with the tools of the trade.” He was clothed completely in black. Black jeans, black long-sleeved T-shirt, black watch cap on his head. Even the pack, from which he’d just withdrawn a—she needed to open the other eye to get a closer look—compass, was black.

She straightened, regarded him quizzically. “Mind telling me just what you were doing in the capitol offices?”

“Not at all.” His gaze remained trained on the compass. “Just as soon as you tell me what you were doing there.”

A moment ticked by. Then another. In the next instant he looked up, caught her gaze on him. She realized belatedly that she hadn’t responded. “I…I was looking for a bathroom.”

He surveyed her steadily. “And I was looking for dance partners for the Ice Capades.” Their gazes did battle, at impasse. She looked away first. That narrowed flinty stare was too hard to face while her mind was racing furiously. For the first time it occurred to her that she was going to have to come up with a reasonable explanation for what had gone down tonight.

“Well, there’s a bit more to the story, I guess.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

She ignored his caustic agreement, still piecing her story together. “The night I went to the nightclubs, I kind of stumbled on a drug deal outside, and one of the guys had a knife—”

“What?”

Uh-oh. She sent him a cautious glance. The dangerous look in his eye matched the lethal tone of his voice. “It’s okay. I got away. And that’s how I met Shala. He’d heard about the scene—at least,” she finished grimly, “that’s the line he gave me.” It was glaringly apparent that Shala had been hiding as much from her as she’d been from him.

There was silence from the man at her side, the kind that promised an impending storm.

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