Black Listed(32)
She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.
Fully clothed, he strode to her and tweaked her nose. “Bet you’ll never hit me again.”
She growled as she pulled up her pants. “I’m thinking of hitting you right now.”
“Think it all you want. I can’t punish you for that.” He laughed as he grabbed her purse off the floor and directed her out of her office. “Or could I?”
She hated him at that moment. Having a bit of a tantrum, she stomped all the way to his rental car parked in the lot across the street. “I really dislike this punishment.”
“Good,” he said as he slid into the driver’s seat. “Then it’s the right one.”
She settled into the passenger side and put on her seat belt, wincing from the soreness of her backside. If he didn’t take care of her soon, she was going to have to sneak in a self-induced orgasm when they returned to the hotel, consequences be damned.
Heavy metal blared from the radio. Ugh. They’d always disagreed about what to listen to in the car. She preferred good old country music to the raucous hair bands. This kind of music made her head hurt.
He drove out of the lot and headed down Main Street. Thank goodness it was Sunday, so there wasn’t a lot of traffic. Only fifteen minutes of suffering left before she’d find a way to convince him to get her off or do the job the one-handed way.
Sawyer slammed his foot down repeatedly, the noise of it somehow cutting through the screaming on the radio.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, noticing his skin turning pale.
“The brakes aren’t working.”
Ice cold fear gripped her, but she tried not to show it. She was surprised by how calm she sounded when she suggested, “Use the emergency brake.”
He glanced at her, his face deadly serious. “It’s not working either.”
Just ahead, there were trucks in both lanes, giving them nowhere to go.
One way or another, they were going to crash.
As they got closer to the trucks and she screamed out Sawyer’s name, she realized that everything she’d done to keep him safe was all for nothing.
Fate had caught up with them.
They were going to die.
Chapter Eleven
LISA MOANED, REACHING out to turn off the alarm. It couldn’t be morning already. She felt as though she’d just fallen asleep. And that didn’t sound like her alarm. Her alarm buzzed. Loudly. This was a steady beeping.
Rather than hit her alarm, her hand smacked a warm solid body. Startled, she opened her eyes.
“You’re okay,” Sawyer said soothingly, taking her hand, his thumb sweeping across the soft spot between her thumb and finger. “It’s just me.”
He sat in the chair next to her, a long red scratch on his neck, but otherwise looking unharmed. Awareness crept back in. Lights. Sirens. A ride in an ambulance.
She was in the hospital because they’d hit a tree after their brakes went out. She’d complained about a headache, and the doctor had insisted she have a CT scan to make sure there was no bleeding in the brain as a result of the accident. An hour later, with a good report from the radiologist, the nurse had given her something for the pain. Whatever she’d taken had knocked her ass right out.
“I hate hospitals. Can we get out of here?” she begged Sawyer as she quickly sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed.
She wondered how they’d get back to the hotel without a car. It was nearly impossible to find a taxi around these parts. Of course, Sawyer was wealthy. He’d probably have a limo pick them up and a nurse waiting back at his hotel suite to watch over her.
“You’re not going anywhere until the doctor says you’re ready to leave,” he said firmly.
“Please. If there was anything wrong, they’d have me upstairs in a room rather than here in emergency. Let’s face it, I’m not a priority. They’ll make me wait here the rest of the night while they do my paperwork for my release. They’ve got my insurance. I’m sure they won’t mind if we get out of here so they can use this room for someone who really needs it.” She got to her feet and wobbled, woozy from the drugs they’d given her.
Sawyer shot out of his chair and steadied her, his hands on her hips. Staring intently at her mouth, he swallowed hard.
The curtain was pulled to the side, and the nurse walked in with a clipboard that hopefully had her paperwork attached to it. “How are you feeling, Ms. Smith?”
“Perfect,” she said, stepping away from Sawyer to show him she could stand on her own two feet without his help. The room spun, but she kept her mouth shut about it. “Ready to go home.”
“Not yet, young lady.” The nurse shook her head as she led Lisa back into bed. “The doctor wants to observe you for at least another hour before he’ll let you go.” She wrapped the blood pressure monitor around Lisa’s arm.