breach. In for a penny, in for a pound. “While it was very kind of you to offer, I really would rather be alone.”
Lars turned in his seat and met her gaze. “I would not do anything you did not want me to.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t.” She tried to smile. “I, um, I live by myself. I’m used to being alone. It’s bad enough I can’t go home…” Miranda let her words trail off and hoped like hell he wouldn’t make this any harder than it already was.
“I understand, fraulein. And more than you think. I will stay until your new ID shows up. If I remember correctly, the safe house has many bedrooms. Do not worry. I will give you adequate privacy.”
“It’s really not necessary.”
“Oh, but I think it is.” Garen let himself into the car and tossed a paper bag into the back seat. “Take a quick look and tell me if it’s what you wanted.”
She peeked into the bag and rolled it back up. “Yeah, this will work fine. How could you possibly know what we were talking about?”
“I have very good hearing. One of us will stay with you until your ID arrives. Your only choice, Miss Miller, is which one.”
She nodded. Never a good feeling, resignation sat heavy in her gut. The thing she didn’t understand was Garen. He was positively chipper, a vast departure from his demeanor ever since she’d made the error of letting her hormones rule her common sense. Christ! He was actually whistling as he nosed the car out of the huge parking lot and turned onto Highway 2.
Maybe I’ll tell both of them to stay. That way they can entertain each other, and they’ll leave me alone.
Chapter 6
Garen watched the Lincoln roll out of the long driveway with Lars at the wheel. He glanced around a clearing hogged out of a forest thick with evergreens. A two-story cabin sat a quarter mile back from the logging road that provided access to it. A brook babbled crisply down from one of many steep ravines lining the central Cascades. The beauty of this location was its relative remoteness. A bevy of sensors kicked off silent alarms in the house if anything broke multiple beams across the turnoff from the logging road.
He took the steps into the house two at a time. Miranda had disappeared inside with her bag within seconds of their arrival. The edges of his mouth twitched, lost somewhere between amusement and concern. She’d been so intent on getting away from both him and Lars she’d nearly run through the heavy, metal-reinforced door. He’d joined her on the porch to activate the electronics to unlock it. Despite her eagerness to get into the house, she’d shied away from him, making it obvious his touch was anathema.
He let himself inside and shut the door. Built of logs, the cabin blended nicely into the surrounding forest. The lower floor was one large room. A substantial woodstove had been plumbed into one end of it; a stack of split wood lay to one side of the hearth. The cabin ran on solar—a dicey proposition with all the evergreens around the house—and a backup generator, so the woodstove was more than decorative.
Garen’s jaws clamped together. Women. He had no idea what had changed between when Miranda had nudged her pussy into his hand and welcomed him inside her body and now when, if looks could kill, he’d be deader than the spider corpses he swept out of the way as he pulled dustcovers off the furniture.
He upended his computer bag on the round, oak table and fiddled with the setup to hook his laptop to a scrambled satellite link. He needed access to his desktop at The Company. He also wanted to get Miranda’s new docs in process. He grimaced. She hadn’t liked being backed into a corner. He’d seen anger and resentment smolder in her blue eyes when he’d told her it was a waste of manpower for both him and Lars to remain. That was when she’d muttered, “Fine,” her mouth set in a hard line, and scampered into the house.
After a private conference with his firm, Lars was en route to
Lars turned in his seat and met her gaze. “I would not do anything you did not want me to.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t.” She tried to smile. “I, um, I live by myself. I’m used to being alone. It’s bad enough I can’t go home…” Miranda let her words trail off and hoped like hell he wouldn’t make this any harder than it already was.
“I understand, fraulein. And more than you think. I will stay until your new ID shows up. If I remember correctly, the safe house has many bedrooms. Do not worry. I will give you adequate privacy.”
“It’s really not necessary.”
“Oh, but I think it is.” Garen let himself into the car and tossed a paper bag into the back seat. “Take a quick look and tell me if it’s what you wanted.”
She peeked into the bag and rolled it back up. “Yeah, this will work fine. How could you possibly know what we were talking about?”
“I have very good hearing. One of us will stay with you until your ID arrives. Your only choice, Miss Miller, is which one.”
She nodded. Never a good feeling, resignation sat heavy in her gut. The thing she didn’t understand was Garen. He was positively chipper, a vast departure from his demeanor ever since she’d made the error of letting her hormones rule her common sense. Christ! He was actually whistling as he nosed the car out of the huge parking lot and turned onto Highway 2.
Maybe I’ll tell both of them to stay. That way they can entertain each other, and they’ll leave me alone.
Chapter 6
Garen watched the Lincoln roll out of the long driveway with Lars at the wheel. He glanced around a clearing hogged out of a forest thick with evergreens. A two-story cabin sat a quarter mile back from the logging road that provided access to it. A brook babbled crisply down from one of many steep ravines lining the central Cascades. The beauty of this location was its relative remoteness. A bevy of sensors kicked off silent alarms in the house if anything broke multiple beams across the turnoff from the logging road.
He took the steps into the house two at a time. Miranda had disappeared inside with her bag within seconds of their arrival. The edges of his mouth twitched, lost somewhere between amusement and concern. She’d been so intent on getting away from both him and Lars she’d nearly run through the heavy, metal-reinforced door. He’d joined her on the porch to activate the electronics to unlock it. Despite her eagerness to get into the house, she’d shied away from him, making it obvious his touch was anathema.
He let himself inside and shut the door. Built of logs, the cabin blended nicely into the surrounding forest. The lower floor was one large room. A substantial woodstove had been plumbed into one end of it; a stack of split wood lay to one side of the hearth. The cabin ran on solar—a dicey proposition with all the evergreens around the house—and a backup generator, so the woodstove was more than decorative.
Garen’s jaws clamped together. Women. He had no idea what had changed between when Miranda had nudged her pussy into his hand and welcomed him inside her body and now when, if looks could kill, he’d be deader than the spider corpses he swept out of the way as he pulled dustcovers off the furniture.
He upended his computer bag on the round, oak table and fiddled with the setup to hook his laptop to a scrambled satellite link. He needed access to his desktop at The Company. He also wanted to get Miranda’s new docs in process. He grimaced. She hadn’t liked being backed into a corner. He’d seen anger and resentment smolder in her blue eyes when he’d told her it was a waste of manpower for both him and Lars to remain. That was when she’d muttered, “Fine,” her mouth set in a hard line, and scampered into the house.
After a private conference with his firm, Lars was en route to
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