I Do, I Do...For Now (Harlequin Love and Laugher) by Ross JoAnn

Author:Ross, JoAnn [Ross, JoAnn]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Harlequin Treasury-Harlequin Love & Laughter 90s
Published: 2011-07-15T06:00:00+00:00

8

SASHA COULDN’T BELIEVE what was happening!

One minute she was soothing her jangled nerves by drinking in the lovely sight of diamonds and rubies in the jewelry store window. Then, in less time that it took to blink, her purse—with her valuable gambling winnings inside—had been ripped from her shoulder.

She cried out in dismay.

At the same time, she saw Mitch sprinting off after the thief.

The part of her that was desperate for the money that would help her find her father was immensely relieved that Mitch had appeared on the scene. Another, stronger part, feared he could get hurt.

Refusing to let him risk his life alone, she began running.

Mitch was proud of the way he’d kept himself fit. His work, after all, depended on his being in shape. He damned his suit and dress shoes, but vowed that there was no way this punk was going to get away with the crime.

The kid ran across the street, dodging between a city bus and a delivery truck. On his heels Mitch followed, ignoring the strident angry blast of the truck horn.

An elderly woman with pewter curls came out of a coffee shop. The thief pushed her aside, almost knocking her down, and kept running. Cursing, Mitch slowed to ensure that she was all right. He picked up her red pocketbook, handed it back to her, then rushed on.

Neither of them noticed Sasha, half a block behind, struggling to keep up.

Adrenaline was racing through Mitch’s veins, pounding in his ears like the beat of a drum. He could hear his own labored breathing, feel the burning in his lungs.

The signal at the intersection said Don’t Walk. The thief ignored it, shoved aside a city maintenance crew barricade, leapt over an open manhole and raced into traffic. Brakes squealed as Mitch followed.

By the time they cut across the basketball arena’s outdoor courtyard, Mitch had gained on the thief. The kid might be younger, but as Mitch forced his legs to keep up their pistonlike motion, he reminded himself that he was a hero, dammit. Savior of women and children and kittens.

There was no way he was going to allow himself to be a failure in Sasha’s eyes.

Even if he had to take on the entire immigration service.

Even if this ridiculous race gave him a frigging heart attack.

A bicyclist shot out of an alley between them. The purse snatcher put on an extra burst of speed just as Mitch slammed headlong into the bike, sending himself and the rider sprawling into the gutter.

His knee hit the ground with a painful cracking sound, then he skidded across the pavement, picking up gravel, making his palms feel as if they were suddenly on fire.

“Hey, man,” the bicyclist complained, struggling to his feet, helmet askew, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Sorry.” Ignoring his aching knee and burning hands, Mitch pushed himself to his feet and took off running again.

Sasha, who’d waited impatiently at the red pedestrian signal was horrified when she saw Mitch crash into the bicycle.

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