Running Wilde (Wilde Security, #4)

She didn’t collapse on him when it was over. Instead she leaned farther away, back against the steering wheel, and stared down at him as their breathing settled from choppy gasps into more normal patterns.

Without a word, she crawled over into the passenger seat and pulled up her pants.

Vaughn dealt with the condom while his brain scrambled to catch up with what the hell had just happened. This wasn’t how it had been between them before. It had always been intense, yeah, but now she fucked like her life depended on an orgasm. Or like she was using sex to escape whatever demons were nipping at her heels.

He zipped up, then shifted to face her. “Wanna tell me what that was? Because it wasn’t sex. I’ve been in life or death battles that were easier.”

She never got the chance to answer. Headlights splashed through the car, and they both froze.

Shit. He’d made a mistake—seemed to do that a lot when she was involved—and had lost situational awareness.

A vehicle slowed and rolled to a stop behind them. Vaughn righted his seat and reached for the ignition, prepared to step on the gas as soon as he had the car in gear, but stopped when flashers winked on from the roof of the other car.

Beside him, Sage seemed to shrink in her seat. “Oh God. It’s a cop.”

He glanced over at her. Wasn’t a cop better than the person riding their bumper on the highway? She didn’t appear to think so and stared back at him with her eyes owlishly large in her pale face.

He hit the window button and waited with both hands on the wheel in plain view.

“Evenin’,” the officer said and shone his flashlight first on Vaughn’s face, then shifted it to Sage. “What are you folks doin’ parked out here this time a night?”

“We’re on our way home to DC,” Vaughn said, keeping his tone pleasant, casual. “I started getting tired and pulled off the highway to catch some shut eye.”

The officer’s flashlight returned to Vaughn. “Well, y’all shouldn’t be parked here. Folks come up over this hill with no attention to speed. If you need to sleep, I suggest you go check in at the motel in town.” He pointed up the road in front of them. “’Bout five miles thatta way. They usually have vacancies.”

“Thank you. We’ll do that.”

The officer lingered a second longer, then finally stepped back. “Y’all have a nice night and don’t forget your seat belts.”

They both dutifully clicked the belts into place, and the cop tipped his hat. “Safe travels.”

Vaughn didn’t exhale again until the officer pulled a uey and took off toward the highway. Then he turned on the car and guided it back onto the road, heading in the opposite direction, toward the motel. “All right. We’re good.” He felt eyes on him and turned to find Sage staring. “What?”

Her mouth opened, then closed again, and she glanced away.

“What?” he said again.

“Why didn’t you turn me over to him?”

Now it was his turn to imitate a fish as he tried to come up with a response. Honestly, the thought hadn’t occurred to him. But if it had, he knew he still wouldn’t have turned her over. Because she was his.

Er, no. That wasn’t what he meant to think. She wasn’t his. For fuck’s sake, he didn’t even know her real name.

“That backwater cop wouldn’t know what to do with you,” he finally said and was proud of himself for keeping his voice calm, cool, even. “Handing you over to his underfunded department would be like handing you a get out of jail free card. Not a chance in hell, vixen.”





Chapter Eight


Oh, of course.

Sage refused to let her shoulders slump. It had been stupid to hope something had changed between them in the last half hour, that maybe he was someone she could trust. But no. He still wanted to see her punished for her crimes, though she was beginning to realize his desire came from a more personal place than some altruistic need for justice. This was his revenge for lying to him. Hadn’t he told her as much?

Sage released a soft sigh. She’d never learn. Trusting men only led to trouble and heartache and more trouble. Adding sex to the mix made it even worse. A quickie in the front seat of a car wasn’t going to change Vaughn’s mind about her, and she hated herself for wishing it had.

She noticed he hadn’t turned around. He’d pointed the car away from the Interstate and was headed in the direction the cop had indicated. “Wait, we’re actually going to the motel?”

“Yeah,” Vaughn said stiffly. “We’ll hole up there for a few hours, then avoid the Interstate as much as possible until we’re closer to DC. It will add some time to the trip, but if it keeps people off our tail, I can live with that.”

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