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He made a noise that said exactly what he thought about that. How long they drove, she honestly couldn’t say. She felt as though her head was in a fog. Eventually, Nate exited the highway and hooked a right onto a quiet four-lane street. At this point, she had no idea where they were, or what time it was, but she was too tired and too freaked out to ask.

She struggled to wrap her brain around the fact armed men had broken into their hotel room with the intent of causing them harm. More likely than not, they’d meant to kill her and Nate. And over what, a stupid flash drive? Some papers? She had no idea what was on the damn drive, but she planned to find out if it was the very last thing she ever did.

Nate turned right, into a parking garage. He pulled up to an automated kiosk, pushed a button, and tossed the slip of paper onto the dashboard. The gate arm went up to allow them entry.

Even with the blur, she knew this wasn’t Orlando. They hadn’t been driving long enough. “Where are we?”

“Not far from Jacksonville Airport. We need to ditch the truck.” The tires squealed as he looped his way to the second level. “As far as I can tell, we haven’t been tailed, but somehow they knew where to find us. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a tracker on the truck, but I don’t have time to search for it.”

He drove down a long lane, parked between minivans, cut the engine, and killed the headlights. But instead of getting out of the truck, he switched on the dome light.

“Let me see your hand.”

“Seriously, it’s no big—”

“Let me see it, Dorcas. We don’t have time to screw around.”

She held out her left hand, and he leaned over the console to examine it. For the hundredth time—at least—that evening, she wished she could see him more clearly. His touch was light, gentle, and even though there was nothing sexual about it, her pulse kicked up a notch as the memory of their kiss invaded her mind. Talk about inappropriate.

“It doesn’t look like there’s any glass in the cut.” He peered up at her. “Do me a favor and get the first-aid kit out of the glove box, will you?”

“Sure, no problem.” With her free hand, she did as he asked, and he murmured a thank-you as he took the kit and zipped it open.

The alcohol pad stung a little when he used it to cleanse the cut at the base of her thumb, but considering what they’d just been through and how much worse it could have been, she wasn’t about to complain. If anything, it provided a welcome distraction to the way her body hummed at his touch. He spread antibiotic ointment over the cut and placed a bandage over the wound.

Finished, he tossed the bandage wrapper to the floor. “There, that ought to do it. How does that feel?”

“Better. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His head tipped up, his face inches from hers, and there was something in his deep-green eyes that she couldn’t quite identify. But before she could figure out what it was, he switched off the dome light, plunging the cab of the truck back into darkness. “We better get moving. If there’s a tracker on the truck, they could be here any minute.”

After he grabbed the box from the backseat of the truck, they took the stairs to the ground level. From there, they rode a shuttle to the airport’s main terminal, where Nate made a beeline for the car rental area not far from baggage claim. This late in the evening, the place was as quiet as a grave, but that didn’t stop Dorcas from constantly looking around for signs of danger.

Nate slung one arm around her shoulders and eased her close, and the feel of him pressed against her sent warm tingles through her body. It filled her with thoughts she had no business entertaining, especially considering the situation they were in.

“Relax, babe. If you keep acting skittish, folks are going to wonder why, and we don’t need that kind of attention. Just pretend we’re an ordinary couple who just flew in from Topeka and are looking forward to spending a few days at the beach.”

She peered up at him. This close and with the better lighting, she could make out his features. “Topeka?”

“What, you don’t like Topeka? How about Green Bay? That reminds me, where are you from originally? I don’t think I ever asked.”

No, he hadn’t—though, to be fair, she hadn’t asked about his past either. “Newark.”

Technically, she was born in San Juan, Puerto Rico. Her family had moved to the mainland when she was three, and she only remembered bits and pieces of her time on the island. Still, she’d seen lots of pictures and heard even more stories. One of these days, when she finally had enough time and money, she planned to return to the island and visit the places her mother talked about with such affection.

Nate tipped his head in acknowledgment. “Ah, a Jersey girl. That explains a lot.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What the hell is that supposed to—wait, are you trying to distract me?”

“Maybe.” The faintest trace of a grin softened his mouth. “Is it working?”

“Yeah, now that you mention it.”

At the counter, Nate sweet-talked the young woman into giving them a free upgrade, as well as a senior discount, even though he wasn’t anywhere close to retirement age. While he was at it, he convinced her to give him a discount on the insurance. By the time he was finished, it was a wonder the clerk wasn’t paying him to take the car.

“Why did she call you Mr. Monroe?” Dorcas asked as they exited the parking garage in a black, nondescript four-door luxury sedan with tinted windows and every option under the sun.

Nate checked the mirrors before he merged onto the road leading away from the airport. “That was the name on the license I gave her.”