Something lit in her eyes then, a jolt that punched through his middle.
“Then since we’re partners in not-crime,” she said, “can we please pull over so I can get out of these cuffs? At this point, I think the marks are going to be permanent.”
He took a moment to weigh the insanity of what he was about to say. Was he really about to do this?
“Fair enough. For the time being.”
“Thanks.”
On a whim he added, “Stick with me, Lydia. Don’t run off on your own. I’ll help us figure a way out of this.”
She nodded. “I trust you. Which, considering this hours-old relationship was founded on your giant lie, probably says a lot about my issues with men.”
That twisted the corner of his mouth upward. “We’ll turn off the road up ahead. I want to make a stop. The cuffs will come off then.”
“What’s there?”
“I need to gas up the tank, and we have some shopping to do before we head to Arizona.”
“Good. I could use some aspirin when we get there. Apparently, my hangover has arrived.” She moaned. “I didn’t even get the usual six hours of pleasure buzz out of it.”
He reached over her. “No need to wait. I’ve got painkillers in the glove box. Along with a bottle of water.”
“Thank God. Then I take back the mean stuff I said about you a few minutes ago.”
“You didn’t say anything mean.”
“I was thinking it in my head.”
The mood in the car shifted when he leaned over into her personal space. When he held the pills out in his hand, her lips feathered his palm and sent a charge up his arm. He recognized the glimmer of fire in her piercing blue eyes, but it wasn’t merely the chemistry that had failed to dim between them. She was, for the time being, no longer a law-breaking captive he was returning to justice. They were a team, two magnetic opposites clutching to one another in a common cause. He just hoped his instinct to trust her didn’t turn out to be a mistake, like his instinct to fuck her on a dining room table.
Although, as he took another sidelong glance, he started thinking that particular decision hadn’t been such a mistake, after all. And judging by the way her gaze slid over him in return, maybe she was thinking pretty much the exact same thing.
Chapter Four
Sometime later, Lydia had the satisfaction of seeing Nate’s eyes widen when she walked up to him with the tags still fluttering on the outfit she was trying on. He gaped at her in almost as stunned a fashion as when she’d followed the drunken whim to pull off her bikini top.
She stopped beside the display laptops he was poking around and lifted her arms. “Well, what do you think?”
The way his eyes raked over her made her feel downright caressed, and it made her skin tingle.
“I thought you don’t wear jeans,” he said.
Lydia shrugged. “I don’t like jeans.” But admittedly, these were stretchy enough to be almost comfortable, and they fit like a soft, sensual glove. More important, her ass and hips looked fucking great in them.
He eyed her curves again. “Well, jeans definitely like you.”
Her stomach heated. “Thanks. I just figured these would be a smarter fashion choice for a wanted fugitive on the run.”
Nate’s head whipped back and forth at that. “Do you want to say that a little louder?” he asked in a sharp whisper. “I don’t think the security guard napping in housewares heard you.”
“The place is practically empty. I thought these big box stores stayed open twenty-four hours because they’re so popular? Besides, you didn’t comment on my top.”
When his eyes fixated on her chest, he looked annoyed rather than appreciative. “Don’t they have some baggy t-shirts or something? I thought I saw some over in the men’s department.”
“Why, what’s wrong with this?” She held out the front of the long-sleeved top she’d selected. The thin, knit fabric was soft and very clingy, and it was patterned in a subdued, floral palette. The neck was slashed quite low, and she’d left the front ties hanging flirtatiously loose.
“The point to getting you some clothes was for you to cover up.” He waved his hand up and down at her ensemble. “Not to, uh, accentuate things.”
“Why, Nathan Antillean,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes in a gesture of innocence, “I do believe that was a compliment.”
“My name isn’t Nathan.”
“Nate’s short for Nathan, isn’t it?”
“No.” He paused and shot her an unconvincing scowl. “It’s short for Nature, if you must know.”