Before she had time to think overlong about what he’d said, the sleigh whipped onto a tiny rural road alongside a small row of old townhomes in a converted farmhouse. Window boxes were decorated with pine boughs and white lights.
Hank leaned over as if to kiss her and whispered in her ear. “Pretend we’ve come to visit our European cousins for the holidays.”
His mouth sketched across hers before reaching over the seat to pass her the crèche and one of the packages. He paid the driver and helped her from the sleigh, looking for all the world like visiting guests. Except she knew his hand in his pocket gripped a 9 mm as they trudged through the snow toward the corner unit, where a decorated tree glowed in the window.>He frowned.
Another possibility hit him. Why had he never considered that Ginger might not be the target, but rather the priceless artifact she’d been carrying? He slid his arm around her shoulders and tucked her closer to his side, making faster tracks through the press of humanity.
Ginger shot a quick, startled glance up at him before continuing, “Every year, my little smart-aleck son would cradle those three porcelain antiques and shake his head, saying, ‘Two years, for Pete’s sake. That makes them the three wise slackers, if you ask me.’”
“That certainly sounds like Kyle.” Hank could envision the boy saying something like that, except Kyle wasn’t a boy anymore. He would be turning twenty-seven soon.
Her boys had grown up in a blink. He’d tried to help out when he could, but being on the road so much, he’d barely been there for his own kids. Ginger had done a damn fine job with her sons while launching her own political career.
She was one helluva strong woman. He’d taken her presence in his life for granted for a long time.
Why had he needed a scrap of red satin to open his eyes to the fact that perhaps they had something to offer each other besides friendship? For a supposedly world-class military strategist, he’d certainly missed an obvious answer right in front of his eyes.
He and Ginger could offer each other something more if only he could get them both home safely.
He glanced down the road to see if their car had been pulled around to the front of the garage yet as the mechanic had promised to do when finished, but no luck.
Damn it, what was taking so long to fix a simple flat? The hair on the back of his neck stood up in that battle-honed sense that something wasn’t right.
Screw waiting around for the mechanic to pull his car around front. He was going to light a fire under the man. The risk of staying out in the open was too high. He needed to get Ginger to that safe house now.
And pray the all clear was authentic.
Chapter 5
And just when she’d thought they were in the home stretch.
Damn.
Ginger clutched Hank’s tense-as-steel arm and stared at the strange man kneeling beside their car inside the repair shop. His finger probed one of the bullet holes.
That by itself wouldn’t have been too much cause for concern. Except the towering man standing beside him peering into the crowds with narrowly slitted eyes sent a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the brisk breeze winding a corkscrew path around the shoppers.
Here she’d been worried about something else being wrong with the vehicle. It had held out far past her expectations, surviving a shoot-out, a mad chase and record-breaking storm conditions with only a simple flat tire. Only to be finally detected by…who?
Friends or enemies? “Hank?”
She tugged on his sleeve only to find him already evaluating the situation with keen eyes. “Keep close. Be ready to make fast tracks back into the crowd.”
The tall man staring into the shopping masses brushed gazes with her, looking past. Then back.
Holding.
His hand slid inside his long duster, a hint of lethal black gun showing.
Ginger curled her toes in her shoes. “Bolt?”
“Yeah.” Hank slid his arm around her waist and tugged her into the anonymous press of merry humanity.
Her heart pounded in sync with their feet, in time with the packages slamming against her legs. “What are we going to do? You said the car-rental place was sold out for the holidays. And you didn’t want to draw attention by stealing a car. You said we’re close. Are we near enough to walk?”
“No.” He kept his arm hooked around her, guiding her through the milling shoppers while making sure they stayed side by side.
“Then what are you doing?”