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      A flush seared her cheeks, and she stared at him over the top of the Firebird. “I’ll follow you in my car.”

      “What is it?”

      “A navy blue Ford SUV.” She gestured toward where it was parked in the lot nearby.

      He chuckled. “That screams ‘federal agent.’ No, we’ll use my car.”

      For a long moment she drilled her gaze into him. He didn’t waver but returned her stare. Then she heaved a sigh and skirted the rear to the Firebird. “And your car screams ‘I want to drag race.’”

      “I haven’t tried that. Maybe I’ll take up that sport someday.”

      She slid into the passenger seat, aware of the close interior in the Firebird. She should have insisted on driving them in her SUV, or at the very least following him.

      He still held the door. She reached to close it, but he shut it instead. Then he grinned at her and came around to his side, his movements economical and fluid. He caught her staring out the windshield at him and gave her another cocky grin.

      She refused to look away.

      He settled behind the wheel and started the engine. “I promise you that before this assignment is over, I will show you what this baby can do.”

      A male and his car. She rolled her eyes and peered out her side window. She’d been excited about the new assignment. It had the potential to prove to her superiors she wasn’t anything like her mother, but now she was having major doubts about her partner. This was going to be a long assignment.

      TWO

      Before putting the Firebird into Drive, Colton twisted toward Agent Lisette Sutton. “We need to get a few things straight right from the start.” He waited until she turned her head toward him, not one emotion visible on her face. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, curious to see what she would do. He hadn’t wanted to team up with an FBI agent, especially one he knew nothing about.

      One of her eyebrows arched. “We’re in a no-parking zone.”

      “I think it would be safer to talk about this without driving. The conversation needs our full attention.”

      She released a long breath. “Then tell me before I grow old.”

      “You and I may not perform our duties the same way, but in this case I am the lead. I just wanted to make sure you heard fully what my boss said about this being under the U.S. Marshals Service’s jurisdiction.”

      “My hearing is perfectly fine.” Lisette Sutton fiddled with her glasses.

      “Then I have the final say in how we operate. I have been a marshal for ten years with a high success rate. I know what to do.”

      “I heard you the first time in Marshal Benson’s office,” she said with little inflection in her voice, her expression neutral.

      “Good, then there should be no problems between us.”

      “For your information, I won’t blindly follow anyone’s order.” She looked him squarely in the eye, anger piercing through him. “There are rules and procedures in place for a reason.”

      Colton’s gut hardened as though preparing for a punch while his hands balled. “What have you heard about me?”

      “I work with an FBI agent who was assigned to Miami at the same time you were. He told me you went into a house without a search warrant, jeopardizing the case.”

      “But I saved the witness. There wasn’t any time to get a warrant. When it comes to people I’m protecting, I do what I must to keep them alive. That is my primary duty.” He threw the car into Drive and pulled out into the traffic.

      His tight grip around the steering wheel made his hands ache after ten minutes. He loosened his hold. He’d had to grab the witness in the case she’d referred to because of a mess-up with the FBI. The agent for the Bureau had taken an eye off the witness, and he’d escaped because he was scared testifying put him in jeopardy. Colton wondered if she knew the whole story: that the agent responsible had lost his job over the mistake. In Lisette Sutton’s point of view Colton had to prove himself, but as far as Colton was concerned, she had to prove herself to him. He trusted no one, and especially not an officer who was inflexible. He’d learned that inflexibility could get a person killed.

      The atmosphere in his car could freeze a person faster than a Nor’easter in the dead of winter. Colton kept his gaze trained on his surroundings but occasionally found himself slanting a look toward his partner. Lisette Sutton sat ramrod straight in the passenger seat, her head held high, emphasizing her long, slender neck. Her mouth set in a firm line disguised the fullness of her lips—not that he’d dwelled on that in his supervisor’s office or when he’d shared his opinion in the car earlier. But he had to admit her sea green eyes had drawn his attention over and over, even though they were hidden behind those brown-framed glasses she kept fidgeting with. This FBI agent was all business. Her bearing, right down to her blond hair, a deep golden shade, pulled back into a tight bun, shouted that fact to the world. Even her outfit—black pants with a matching suit coat and a plain white blouse—supported that impression.

      Maybe, like him, she wasn’t too thrilled to be babysitting a criminal like Don Saunders. He understood the need to give deals to catch the big fish in a pond of scum, but it still bothered him when he dealt with ones like Saunders. His faith was the only thing that made this palatable. In the end Saunders would get his due. He would be held accountable for his actions with the Lord.

      “How much farther is it?” Lisette Sutton asked in a husky voice that almost betrayed her businesslike demeanor.

      “Another fifteen minutes. The safe house is out a ways—not a lot of neighbors to wonder what’s going on.”

      “Also harder for Mr. Saunders to catch a ride somewhere.”

      “True.”

      “Who’s with him right now?” She shifted toward him, her posture not as tense as before.

      And for some reason that made the confines of his car even smaller. His gut clenched at the same time his hands did on the steering wheel. “Marshals Janice Wallace and Neil Simms. The other on the team is Quinn Parker, who will be at the house later.”

      He took the exit off Interstate 70. At the intersection of the off ramp and a country road, he came to a stop and made the mistake of glancing at her. His gaze collided with hers. A faint red colored her cheeks, and she turned away.

      Her stiff carriage returned, her shoulders thrust back. The temperature in the car dropped even more. He made a right turn onto the two-lane highway, a wall of mountains on his left blanketed with snow. At least the roads were cleared.

      “Is our destination up in the mountains?” She finally broke the silence a few miles down the road.

      “No, at the foot of one. The area around here is beautiful and worth exploring in your free time. Have you had a chance to do much sightseeing?”

      “No.”

      “How long have you been in Denver?”

      “Six months. How about you?”

      “Two years.” About the extent he would stay in any one place. That was why he had applied for the open position in St. Louis. Colton was bummed that he didn’t get it. “How do you like Denver so far? Have you found a place to stay yet?” he asked, trying to play nice with the Ice Queen and learn about his new partner.

      “When I first moved here, I lived in one of those extended-stay hotels. Hated it. I was out searching for a place every spare moment I had. I found a nice acceptable apartment in only a week.”

      “I still haven’t gotten around to finding an apartment. I don’t mind the extended-stay hotel I’m at. It’s just a place to sleep. I’m looking to move to another assignment when this

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