LITMIR.BIZ

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      Her heart raced in her chest as one horrible thought chased another. She stared at the man sprawled on the concrete floor. He was bleeding. Could she leave him here? What if his injury was serious? He could die in front of her.

      She slipped the key into her pocket and edged close to him. “You’re hurt. I’m going to have a look, but if you so much as touch me, you’ll get this again.” She jabbed the weapon at him.

      He blinked.

      Kate’s hand trembled as she pushed his jacket aside and pulled his T-shirt out of his waistband. Carefully she moved the blood-soaked fabric up, trying to avoid touching his bare skin. Under all that black, he was muscular, taut and seething. She sucked in a breath. If masculinity was a crime, he’d be doing life, and if he weren’t incapacitated, she was certain he’d have her on the ground with his hands around her throat.

      The thought of her son slammed into her mind like a tidal wave. She stopped. What would happen to Cody if she wasn’t there to take care of him? This man could do that. Take her life.

      She swallowed the knowledge and returned to her task. She couldn’t let him bleed to death. She had to take a chance.

      A trail of blood crisscrossed his chest. “You must have taken some buckshot when you were in the trunk.” She looked into his face for confirmation.

      He blinked.

      “It looks bad.” She still hadn’t found the source of the blood trail.

      Pushing the shirt higher, she brushed his bare skin with her fingertips.

      He groaned.

      A wave of warmth burst inside of her and rushed to her cheeks. She let out a labored breath and stared at the spot just above his heart and slightly to the left where a pellet had burned a trail, marring his perfect chest.

      “I’m dialing 911.” She stood up, riffling through the stuff on the table for her phone. She reached for it at the same time his hand wrapped around her ankle.

      Hot…relentless…inescapable.

      Chapter Two

      He jerked hard, pulling her off balance. Her right hand slammed against the tabletop, the Taser dislodged from her grip and clattered onto the floor.

      She hit the ground.

      In slow motion, he pulled her toward him.

      Elbows against the concrete floor, her heart pounded and she kicked, swimming against a wave of fear that threatened to drown her, but he was too strong.

      Catching sight of the Taser, she reached for it, straining to touch it in a final desperate move.

      One more second and she would be his, but he suddenly let go. Hope for survival surged in her veins. She sat up and fixed her gaze on him.

      He pulled himself upright and leaned against the front tire of the Beamer. “Kate Robear. Detective Mick Jacoby. New Orleans Police Department, auto theft division.” He held the badge in his hand like a trophy. “Battery on an officer is a crime.”

      She tried to shut out his words, but an image of Cody staring at her through prison glass was the only thing that came into focus.

      “Can’t we work this out? You never identified yourself as a cop. I thought you were going to kill me.”

      He sat very still. His chiseled features as hard as stone. She didn’t know if her reasoning could find a catch hold, but she had to try.

      “You locked us in here together. I deserve an explanation for that.” He continued to watch her with eyes the color of shallow seawater.

      “I’m not a car thief.” Desperation diced her composure to bits. “This car has been repossessed, legally. I have the paperwork. I didn’t steal it.”

      “Prove it. Take me back to Otis’s.”

      “You can’t be serious. You’re in no condition to go anywhere but Mercy Hospital.”

      “I hope you like jail.”

      Her pulse jackhammered at her temples. He wanted to go back into the swamp?

      “You’ve got a first aid kit.”

      “You’re nuts. He shot at us. At me. Who’s to say he won’t kill us next time?” The thought rattled her bones.

      “Get the kit.”

      She scrambled to her feet and grabbed the medical supplies she always carried. He had to be crazy if he thought he could do this. Cops thrived on danger, but blood loss didn’t take the testosterone level into consideration. He’d be at Mercy before dawn and she’d be in jail or dead. The victim of a drunk wielding a shotgun.

      “Put a dressing on it. It’ll hold until I get to Otis.”

      “You need more than a dressing.”

      He pulled his T-shirt farther up, his jaw locked against the pain. Muscle tensed just under his skin and she watched him stiffen. Desire drummed deep in her body.

      “What are you going to do? Arrest him?” She felt his stare as if it was solid, looked into his eyes and pressed the thick pad against his wound.

      For an instant he closed heavy-lashed lids over pain-clouded green eyes, but opened them almost immediately.

      “Why do I need Otis?”

      “How about him shooting at us for starters. And he did this.” She nodded to the bandage she pressed to his side. “He assaulted you first.”

      A half smile arched his mouth, but vanished as quickly as it had appeared. “I have a Robear in custody. I’m doing my job.”

      She’d taken the family career track? Was that what he thought? “Let’s get you to my car before you pass out. You don’t have to be conscious when I drive you to the hospital.”

      He forced his palm down on her hand. Heat burned into her fingers and sent a jolt of current through her body. She tried to pull away, but couldn’t escape his touch or the awareness it evoked.

      “You will take me to Otis.” He was so close, she could see beads of sweat form on his upper lip. “If you don’t, you’ll serve time when I’m done with you.”

      “Okay. Okay!”

      He released his hand from hers and she felt him shudder.

      “I’ll open the lock.” Kate moved away from him and fished the bloody key out of her pocket. If she didn’t get him out of here soon, he’d pass out.

      Hand shaking, she fit the key into the padlock and raised the metal door. He was on his feet by the time she returned to his side. He slid his gun into the waistband of his pants. At least someone could shoot back this time.

      “Get your stuff, MacGyver.” He glared at her. “Nice and slow.”

      Kate jammed her things into her backpack and zipped it shut. There was no way out except going into the bayou with him.

      “His place is about seven miles from here on the edge of Bayou Gauche.” She pulled his arm over her shoulders.

      He walked on his own, but leaned heavily on her, pressed close to her side. His body heat radiated into her and pulled her nerves thin, doubling her discomfort, but she couldn’t run away. Couldn’t escape the myriad of opposing sensations that targeted her mind and body.

      A fine drizzle fell outside. She settled him into the passenger seat of her Bronco and hurried around to the driver’s side. Kate started the engine and rolled out of the lot, letting the flip-flop of the windshield wipers calm her nerves. What a mess she’d gotten herself in tonight. Life had just become immensely more complicated thanks to the angry, wounded cop in the passenger seat next to her.

      “You do know you’re in the middle of my investigation?”

      She

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