pretentious prick.
But then something happened. And Sam saw that it was big enough to raise Annika’s guard higher than it had been before. And damn it was virtually unscalable then. It didn’t take much to see how upset she was. The tear tracks were evidence enough. His few attempts at conversation in the car had met with a soft shrug and silence. Unfortunately the damned motel was only five minutes’ drive time from Connor’s house and before he could decide if he should attempt to breach the walls one more time they were pulling up under the awning.
In the light of the flashing neon sign signifying that there were no vacancies, Sam saw the strain tightening the fine lines around her mouth and eyes. As he angled into the parking space along the fence, Annika reached in her purse and pulled out her room key. Sam wished he were audacious enough to yank open her door, scoop her up in his arms and show her she didn’t have to look so goddamned lonely. And show her how even a Motel 6 could be the scene of an unforgettable night. But bravado wasn’t the card he needed to play tonight. No. Restraint was.
As if to confirm his judgment, he’d barely turned off the ignition when she jumped out and was halfway across the parking lot five feet away from Room 146.
Sam got out and leaned against his car door, tucking his hands in his jacket pockets to look as unthreatening as possible.
Annika looked back over her shoulder. She hesitated for a brief moment meeting his gaze.
“Um… uh… thanks for the ride, Commander.”
He watched her fiddle with the door key then called out to her.
“Hey. You!”
She turned, looking surprised. A questioning frown traced her brow.
“It’s Sam.”
Her frown deepened.
“I… what?”
“My name is Sam .”
In the harsh flash of neon he saw her cheeks flush a soft shade of pink. Even from the distance he could see her throat constrict when she swallowed.
“Good night, Annika.”
He couldn’t hear what she said but he saw her lips curl slightly and thought he saw her mouth the words before she closed the door behind her.
“Good night, Sam.”
Chapter 8
“Sure you don’t want a toke, Officer? We got about the best ‘fry daddy’ you’re likely to suck past those juicy lips of yours. Course, if it’s something more ‘manly’ you wanna put your mouth around, we can arrange that too. Can’t we, Bobo?”
The grungy long-haired dude smirked at his buddy who chortled in response.
“Oh yeah, man. I got all kinds of ideas ‘bout what we could do with that sick mouth of hers. We can even arrange a little ‘gun play’ sugar, if you’re up for it. Nothin’ Mick and me’d like better. Tell you what sugar-lips. You show us your gun and we’ll show you ours.”
If it weren’t for the glassy-eyed hatred gleaming in their eyes, Annika would have laughed. But she knew these assholes and the gang beginning to crowd in around them weren’t above their threats. They were part of a destructive offshoot of the environmental movement that went after businesses they thought were hurting the environment. For the most part the groups were annoying but harmless. The worst were dangerous, classified by the FBI as “eco-terrorists.” Their goal was to destroy their targets by damaging their property. Fire was their weapon of choice.
From her research the small unkempt group camped outside the security fence bordering Lakeside Estates were no more than Environmental Liberation Front pretenders. She was convinced this ragtag bunch, as Corcoran had correctly labeled them, were more interested in getting high and terrorizing the neighbors than they were in doing real damage. But Annika didn’t underestimate them. She knew the damage their more dangerous cohorts could wreak. That knowledge was one of the primary reasons Connor and Nate had invited her in. Last year, she’d broken up a gang of dedicated eco-terrorists that were targeting a ski resort in Idaho. She’d put most of them
But then something happened. And Sam saw that it was big enough to raise Annika’s guard higher than it had been before. And damn it was virtually unscalable then. It didn’t take much to see how upset she was. The tear tracks were evidence enough. His few attempts at conversation in the car had met with a soft shrug and silence. Unfortunately the damned motel was only five minutes’ drive time from Connor’s house and before he could decide if he should attempt to breach the walls one more time they were pulling up under the awning.
In the light of the flashing neon sign signifying that there were no vacancies, Sam saw the strain tightening the fine lines around her mouth and eyes. As he angled into the parking space along the fence, Annika reached in her purse and pulled out her room key. Sam wished he were audacious enough to yank open her door, scoop her up in his arms and show her she didn’t have to look so goddamned lonely. And show her how even a Motel 6 could be the scene of an unforgettable night. But bravado wasn’t the card he needed to play tonight. No. Restraint was.
As if to confirm his judgment, he’d barely turned off the ignition when she jumped out and was halfway across the parking lot five feet away from Room 146.
Sam got out and leaned against his car door, tucking his hands in his jacket pockets to look as unthreatening as possible.
Annika looked back over her shoulder. She hesitated for a brief moment meeting his gaze.
“Um… uh… thanks for the ride, Commander.”
He watched her fiddle with the door key then called out to her.
“Hey. You!”
She turned, looking surprised. A questioning frown traced her brow.
“It’s Sam.”
Her frown deepened.
“I… what?”
“My name is Sam .”
In the harsh flash of neon he saw her cheeks flush a soft shade of pink. Even from the distance he could see her throat constrict when she swallowed.
“Good night, Annika.”
He couldn’t hear what she said but he saw her lips curl slightly and thought he saw her mouth the words before she closed the door behind her.
“Good night, Sam.”
Chapter 8
“Sure you don’t want a toke, Officer? We got about the best ‘fry daddy’ you’re likely to suck past those juicy lips of yours. Course, if it’s something more ‘manly’ you wanna put your mouth around, we can arrange that too. Can’t we, Bobo?”
The grungy long-haired dude smirked at his buddy who chortled in response.
“Oh yeah, man. I got all kinds of ideas ‘bout what we could do with that sick mouth of hers. We can even arrange a little ‘gun play’ sugar, if you’re up for it. Nothin’ Mick and me’d like better. Tell you what sugar-lips. You show us your gun and we’ll show you ours.”
If it weren’t for the glassy-eyed hatred gleaming in their eyes, Annika would have laughed. But she knew these assholes and the gang beginning to crowd in around them weren’t above their threats. They were part of a destructive offshoot of the environmental movement that went after businesses they thought were hurting the environment. For the most part the groups were annoying but harmless. The worst were dangerous, classified by the FBI as “eco-terrorists.” Their goal was to destroy their targets by damaging their property. Fire was their weapon of choice.
From her research the small unkempt group camped outside the security fence bordering Lakeside Estates were no more than Environmental Liberation Front pretenders. She was convinced this ragtag bunch, as Corcoran had correctly labeled them, were more interested in getting high and terrorizing the neighbors than they were in doing real damage. But Annika didn’t underestimate them. She knew the damage their more dangerous cohorts could wreak. That knowledge was one of the primary reasons Connor and Nate had invited her in. Last year, she’d broken up a gang of dedicated eco-terrorists that were targeting a ski resort in Idaho. She’d put most of them
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