Driven by Fire by Stuart Anne

Author:Stuart, Anne [Stuart, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery & Suspense, Mystery, Romance, Suspense, Romantic Suspense, Contemporary
ISBN: 9781503952010
Amazon: 1503952010
Goodreads: 26209459
Publisher: Montlake Romance
Published: 2016-02-16T08:00:00+00:00

They stopped outside an American-style hotel on the edge of whatever Calliverian town they had flown into, and Jenny surveyed their night’s lodgings. The building was long and low, with doors leading from each room onto a veranda. It had seen better days—the paint was peeling and there was trash in the yard, but that bastard seemed to think it was the perfect place to spend the night.

He was already out of the car, clearly waiting for her. She didn’t want to go inside with him—she didn’t want to do anything with him—but she didn’t have much choice. She’d insisted on coming this far, for Soledad’s sake. No, it was more than that. If Ryder found her brother’s phone, she had every intention of destroying it. She should never have held on to it—she’d thought it would give her some kind of leverage with Billy, but if she trusted his word she wouldn’t need it. If Ryder didn’t have it he couldn’t send her brother to prison, without proof he couldn’t kill him. Maybe. At that point she wouldn’t put anything past Ryder’s brutality.

She climbed out of the car and moved toward him, careful to keep her distance. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, really look at him, or she’d be reminded of the man who’d kissed her in the kitchen, the man whose hard, warm body had pressed up against hers with undeniable need. As long as she didn’t look into his face she could pretend he was someone else, some brutal bully who didn’t care who he hurt in his effort to get information. As long as he didn’t touch her . . .

He put his hand on her arm and she panicked, trying to tear herself away, but she should have known it would be useless. He was much stronger than she was, and he simply hauled her against his body, wrapping one arm around her waist. “We’re supposed to be a newly married couple on a really stupid honeymoon, and anything you do to make people think we’re not is going to put us and everything you want to accomplish in danger. So chill.”

Chill was the operative word. His hand was on her waist, she remembered the pain that hand had inflicted, and it chilled her to the bone. Her sore arm was trapped between their bodies, and she couldn’t use it to push away. All she could do was stand still and try to disguise the fear that was leeching through her. She was trembling, and she bit her lip, trying to still the shaking, as he led her into the slightly run-down lobby of the hotel. He pulled her even closer, and for some unknown reason the heat of his body began to penetrate hers, and the tremors slowed.

“That’s right,” he murmured. “Just relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

She couldn’t help it—she let out a small, derisive laugh. His hand tightened as a warning on her waist, but he still didn’t hurt her.

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