Then the news break came through…
“Hank—” she tugged on his sleeve as the television report translated in her mind “—the news is stating an attempt was made on my life, but that I’m safely back in the care of my consulate. No one even knows I’m gone.”
“That’s good.” He nodded, a hint of a smile showing for the first time since they’d left the airport. “At least the average guy in the next booth won’t be looking for us.”
Only law-enforcement agencies—and whoever had started shooting at them in the first place if he had connections on the inside. “I really hoped up to now that this was a fluke attempt by one person and we’d get the all clear to come in.”>Relief shimmered through her. He really should know better. He wouldn’t climb in a plane without going through a checklist. A rogue thought ticked at her brain like a frosty bracing breath.
He’d been more concerned about her safety than his own. She shivered with her exhale, her breath caressing the rough fabric of his open overcoat.
His coat?
Oh my. What a time to realize she lay with her cheek pressed against his thigh. The heat of him warmed her face chilled by winter and fear. Then her face flamed from more than the feel of him.
Did he notice their suggestive position? She couldn’t decide whether she should be more embarrassed if he did or if he didn’t. She started to shift.
The car jerked left. The brakes shrieked. Hank palmed her back. “Don’t move.”
She hugged his waist for balance and tried not to envision what was happening outside. The best thing she could do for him was stay calm. He didn’t need some screaming, clingy liability distracting him.
Time passed in a blur of growling engines, honking horns, screeching brakes. Finally—she had no idea how much later—the car jerked to a stop. Only then did Ginger realize she’d squeezed her eyes closed during the breakneck chase. Now that the danger seemed to have passed for the moment, her senses went on hyperaware. Her arms were wrapped around the hard muscle of Hank’s waist. The fresh smell of his soap mixed with an arousing hint of tangy sweat, no doubt from the run, the adrenaline.
His hand moved along the small of her back. “Ginger? Are you all right?”
“Just catching my breath.” She considered herself a strong woman, but she really wasn’t ready to open her eyes or sit up just yet. “Do we need to run again?”
“No. I think we’ve ditched everyone for now.”
“Okay.” She nodded her head against the coarse fabric of his pants leg.
This had to be the strangest conversation of her life, lying with her head in her friend General Hank Renshaw’s lap. She attributed some of it to the flashback of losing her husband, something she expected she would never fully get over.
Of course it wasn’t every day people shot at her.
They’d also shot at Hank, this amazing man who’d stood by her for years, and she owed it to him to be strong because their hides weren’t out of the sling yet. Digging deep, she smoothed her frayed nerves and opened her eyes. Only to blink, once, twice, and still find the overwhelming evidence clearly in front of her in Hank’s lap. She wasn’t alone in becoming aware of feelings other than friendship.
Hank was very impressively affected by their physically compromising position.
Well damn. Here he was, fifty-five years old, and he felt about fifteen around this woman. There wasn’t much he could do about this second awkward-as-hell moment as he sat with a sexy lady parked in a car in the deserted woods. Not much he could do…
Except laugh.
He gripped Ginger by the waist and plopped her upright before he did something foolish—like act on the attraction aching through him. “Ginger, I’ve already told you once today that you’re hot. Doesn’t mean I respect you any less. We can talk about it more later if you’re of a mind to, but right now,” he paused and pulled out his cell phone, “we need to find someone we can trust.”
“All right.” She blinked fast, chewing on her bottom lip, which made him think of that moment her hands had lingered on his shoulders. “And thank you. For the ‘hot’ comment.”
“You’re welcome.”
She frowned. “Where are we?”
“Near a place I know.” He’d had a good dinner here just up this mountain road. “I’ve been to Germany more times than I can count and made some trips up this way over the Bavarian border. This was all I could pull out of my memory when those guys were chasing us.”
“I think it’s extraordinary you could remember anything about the area given everywhere you’ve traveled.”
“Piloting, travel, navigation—it’s what I do for a living. Or rather what I did before these stars on my shoulders pulled me out of the cockpit and sent me off to deal with mostly political BS.”
It had been a lot easier in the days when he’d only had to worry about his own butt on the line. He and his crew, out on a mission. Not a civilian to protect.
Tonight, the stakes were high with Ginger’s life in danger for some reason he’d yet to determine.