Page 6

W hoever he is, the guy has balls.

With another shake of my head, I finish dealing with the airport’s rental office, take the key and slide into the car. Plugging the address Knox gave me into the GPS, I leave the airport behind and venture out into the city.

Wow. Talk about going above and beyond. If there were an award for saving people’s asses, I should definitely be nominated. Between swooping in to rescue Ex Nihilo over and over again this past year, and now this, I’d say I should win Pilot of the Year.

But he wouldn’t have called me if he wasn’t in trouble, right?

At least that’s what I tell myself until I pull into the alley behind the panadería and text him that I’m here.

I’m not sure what exactly I expected, but it isn’t the man who strolls out of the back door like he doesn’t have a care in the world, wearing sunglasses and a tuxedo, tie hanging loosely around his neck.

He’s carrying a pink bakery box and turns momentarily to speak to the woman now standing at the door before tossing her a jaunty wave.

Maybe I’m reading the situation wrong, but she looks slightly flustered as she sends him off with smiles and, apparently, pastries and good wishes.

Does he know her? They seem to be acquainted.

Hell, he looks like he’s out for a Sunday stroll, not running from a dangerous situation.

With narrowed eyes, I watch him leisurely saunter over to the car, open the door and slip inside. He lowers his sunglasses and playful blue eyes the color of sapphires meet mine, followed by a bright, white smile. This guy thinks his shit doesn’t stink.

“Thank you for picking me up, Hunter.” His voice is deep and sure. A little cocky, maybe?

My gaze travels down over his rumpled tuxedo. A few undone buttons give me a glimpse of his smooth, tanned throat and, even though it’s wrinkled, his tux fits him like a glove.

“You’re welcome,” I respond curtly, and my brow pulls together in a frown. I know his type only too well. The ultimate playboy who snaps his fingers and women come running. Bile crawls up the back of my throat.

I hate cocky men.

“Consider yourself lucky. I don’t normally leave the jet to play Uber.”

He chuckles as he adjusts the seat back further, his long legs barely fitting in the footwell.

His scent fills the car, and whatever cologne he’s wearing has me gripping the steering wheel harder, the delicious combination of amber and velvety musk teasing my nose.

It fits him—all smooth and slightly sensual.

And it pisses me off.

“I am lucky,” he tells me.

I clear my throat and meet his deep blue gaze. “Not that lucky. You didn’t make it to the airport and said you got into a jam. Was that before or after you stole someone else’s property?”

Okay, I don’t mean to sound quite so condescending, but the man is a self-proclaimed thief and part of Addie’s crew. I might not be the most upright person in the world, but I draw a line at stealing from others.

“I think you need a pastry.” He gives me a sexy smirk that probably sends most women into a panty-melting tizzy and lifts the lid on the pink box, cleverly avoiding my question.

“The cocadas de arequipe are heavenly, but pretty sticky. How about a polvorosa ? Ever had one?” He tilts the box, offering me one. “They’re sugar and butter cookies. And absolutely delicious. No empanadas, though, sorry. Maria was still making them.”

Is he serious?

“Are you serious?” I blurt out, experiencing a clear descent into filter failure.

“I left my friend’s wedding reception early so I could fly down here and rescue you.

I rushed through the city, and you come strolling out with baked goods acting as though you’re on vacation?

I thought bad guys were chasing after you and you’d gotten locked down in some life-or-death situation. I can’t believe this.”

Suddenly, it feels like he’s fucking with my time, and that pisses me off more than anything.

“Is this a joke?” I ask.

“No, of course not,” he says smoothly.

He sounds sincere, yet he’s so calm and nonchalant for a guy who desperately needed a pickup.

“I appreciate you coming—” His voice abruptly cuts off, and I see his attention flicker to the passenger side mirror. “Speaking of bad guys. Not to rush you or anything, but you might want to get us out of here.”

I glance up into the rear view mirror and see a car turn into the alley, slowly driving up behind us. “Bad guys?”

His body tenses slightly. “Yep.”

That’s all I need to know. I slam my foot against the gas and the car lurches forward. Knox grips onto the dashboard with one hand and reaches beneath his suit jacket with his other, pulling out a pistol.

I’m a pretty good driver and plan on ditching these clowns, but I like that he has a weapon.

Just in case. Although I do keep one in the cockpit while flying, I don’t normally carry a gun on me.

Of course, this is Colombia, and I came to evac a thief.

I’m not naive, so I brought my Glock which is currently holstered beneath my leather jacket.

The last thing I want is a shootout, though. Traffic has picked up and tourists are appearing. Trying to be careful yet still determined to get us the hell out of here, I jerk the wheel, squealing around a corner, doing my best to lose them.

“Nice move,” Knox says. He points to an alley coming up fast. “Turn there. Then circle back around.”

“Already planning on it,” I tell him, whipping the steering wheel. We skid sideways, but I maintain control and accelerate. Racing past dumpsters, I keep my boot pressed down firmly on the gas. He turns around in his seat, keeping a close watch on our pursuers.

“They’re getting too close,” he informs me. “We need to shake them.”

“No shit,” I grit out, glaring at the men still riding our asses. “Thank you for that keen observation, but this borrowed piece of junk can only go so fast.”

He glances at the speedometer and can see I’m flooring it. With a nod, he sets the bakery box on the dashboard, lowers the window and pushes up. “Keep it steady, Andretti,” he says cheekily, lifting his gun and leaning out the window.

Shit. Half of his body is outside the vehicle and my heart thunders as he fires off a shot. His suit jacket whips up, caught in the wind, and my gaze drops to his ass. Seriously, Hunter? I give my head a shake and turn my focus back to the road.

Behind us, one of Knox’s shots makes contact, splintering their windshield into a million cracks. I keep the car steady, but don’t let up on the gas pedal. Knox fires again and the men chasing after us return fire.

Concentrating on driving, we blast out of the alley and back into slow-moving traffic. Oh, crap! I’m forced to swerve around stopped cars, and Knox jolts sideways, almost falling out.

Oops.

“You call that steady?” he yells.

Cringing, I ease up on the gas. “Sorry!”

He might annoy me, but that doesn’t mean I want to accidentally kill him.

After a few damn good moves on my part, we roar through an intersection, and I swerve through several cars and past a truck. Knox slides back inside the car and drops down on the passenger seat.

“We lost ‘em.” I can feel him studying me and I glance over to see him assessing me with dancing blue eyes. “Nice driving.”

I can’t help but grin, ramped up from an adrenaline high. “Wait’ll you see my flying.”

He laughs, and for the first time in a long time, I feel lighter.

“Addie mentioned you’re a former fighter pilot.”

I nod, blending back into the flow of cars zooming along the highway and heading toward the airport. “Ten years in the Navy.”

“Impressive. Thank you for your service.”

I steal another glance at him. He’s staring at me, and I can’t quite figure out what I see flash through his gorgeous blue eyes. Suddenly, something hot and liquid fills my lower belly. No, no, no . I refuse to fall for this cocky thief. Swallowing hard, I look away and force a nod.

Okay, so he’s hot. Big deal. A lot of men are, right? He’s also smooth and arrogant as hell, which are two qualities I avoid at all costs since my relationship with Shane crashed and burned. My former Top Gun classmate is the reason I’ve stayed single and dependent on my vibrator for so damn long.

Because I’ve been down this road before and it only leads to heartbreak.

Shane hurt me deeply, and I can tell Knox is cut from the same cloth.

I know his type far too well—the charming, dashing, gorgeous rogue with a devil-may-care attitude and a gaggle of women panting after him.

And much like my ex, I’m sure he’s just as averse to monogamy.

Shane taught me a very hard lesson, and I vowed to never fall for another playboy. They don’t settle down, and they certainly don’t believe in being faithful.

Knox Beckett is a walking red flag.

Unfortunately, I can’t help but notice him.

And red? Well, it just happens to be my favorite color.

He’s far too attractive for his own good and there’s a magnetic quality about him that keeps drawing my attention.

So annoying . Too bad he isn’t taking the next commercial flight back to the States and I can just drop him off and wipe my hands clean of him.

That would be too easy, though. No, I have to smell his sultry scent for the next seven or so hours and pretend this man isn’t affecting me.

Pressing my lips together, I realize he’s my fucking catnip.

I’m used to being surrounded by lots of big, muscled, alpha men who grunt a lot.

But Knox is a smooth-talking pretty boy who oozes charm and wears a suit like it’s his job.

His lean physique is more to my liking. He’s tall, and I’m guessing under that expensive tux is a lithe, athletic body without an ounce of fat.

“I should apologize,” he says.

“For what?” I glance over, not sure what he’s talking about.

“When Addie told me Hunter was coming down here to pick me up, I assumed you were a man.”

“Oh. Yeah, well, I get that a lot. In your defense, I suppose female pilots are less common than male pilots. But I’m just as good, if not better,” I assure him.

“I have no doubts. Especially if your flying skills are half as good as your driving skills.”

I’m not sure how to respond to that. The compliments roll off his silver tongue so easily, and I can’t help but wonder how sincere he’s being. I’m sure some women like that BS, but I’m made of stronger stuff.

And resisting this thief? Not a problem.

Just keep telling yourself that, Hunter, a little voice taunts.