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Authors: Amanda Ashley
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that just once a day for the rest of his existence. That sobered him. Barring some unforeseen accident, he would be around a lot longer than she would. The thought depressed the heck out of him. He hardly knew her and he already couldn't imagine the world without her in it.
"It was a good movie, wasn't it?" Cara remarked as they left the theater.
"Yeah." To tell the truth, he didn't really know. He had spent the last half of the movie thinking about how dreary the world would be when she was gone. But she was still young, he thought, looking on the bright side. She would be around for a good long time.
"I love movies," she said. "I think I'd go every night if I could."
"Every night?" He shook his head. "You really are a movie junkie."
"And a book junkie," she said, grinning. "And a chocolate junkie. And a computer junkie. So, what do you like?"
"My Mustang." They were standing beside it now, and he patted the roof.
"That's it? You don't like anything but your car?"
His gaze moved over her, long and slow. "I can think of one or two other things," he said with a wicked grin.
Cara felt her cheeks grow hot under his sensual gaze. She cleared her throat. "Like what?" she asked breathlessly.
"Like hair the color of spun gold, and eyes the color of a peaceful mountain lake, and a smile that's brighter than the sun."
"I had no idea you were a poet."
"I'm not."
He opened the door for her, then walked around to the other side and slid behind the wheel.
"Do you want to go home?" he asked.
"Not really, why?"
"I thought we could go for a drive."
"I'd like that."
He started the car and the engine came to life with a low growl. Once he got out of town, he found a long straightaway and goosed it up.
It was like flying, Cara thought, one hand clutching the edge of her seat.
"Do you want me to slow down?" he asked.
"No, I love it!"
"Hang on!"
It was exhilarating, flying through the dark night. She knew it was an incredibly stupid thing to do. A flat tire, a rut in the road, a skid, anything could be fatal at this speed, but it felt wonderful and a little bit wicked.
Vince muttered an oath when he heard the siren. A glance in the rearview mirror showed flashing red lights coming up fast behind him.
Had he been alone, he might have tried to outrun the law, but not when Cara was with him. He had already put her life in danger by driving like some reckless teenager.
He pulled off the road, rolled down the window, and waited.
A cop approached him a moment later. "Can I see your driver's license, sir?"
Vince had it out and ready.
The cop looked it over, then shined his flashlight in Vince's face. "Do you know how fast you were going back there?"
"Yes, sir."
The cop tucked his flashlight under his arm and flipped open his ticket book. "This is going to cost you big bucks."
"Officer, you really don't want to give me a ticket."
The cop looked at him. "Is that right?"
"That's right." Vince gazed deep into the cop's eyes. "A warning will do just as well this time, don't you think?"
"Yes," the cop said, nodding. "A warning will do just as well this time." He closed his ticket book. "Have a nice evening, folks."
"Thank you, officer."
Cara stared at Vince, her eyes wide. "How did you do that?"
"I don't know. Just my winning personality, I guess."
She laughed. "You are so lucky. I'll bet that ticket would have cost you at least four hundred dollars."
"At least."
After pulling onto the road again, he drove a mile or two and then turned off on a one-lane dirt road flanked by shrubs and tall trees.
Cara glanced around, a little shiver of unease snaking down her spine. Was she going to be one of those girls who wound up dead in a ditch? "What are we doing here?"
"There's a pretty little pond down the road a ways. Not afraid of the dark, are you?"
"I don't know." She could hear the news flash now. Girl's body found in the woods. Film at eleven. She glanced over her shoulder. Where was Di Giorgio when she needed
"It was a good movie, wasn't it?" Cara remarked as they left the theater.
"Yeah." To tell the truth, he didn't really know. He had spent the last half of the movie thinking about how dreary the world would be when she was gone. But she was still young, he thought, looking on the bright side. She would be around for a good long time.
"I love movies," she said. "I think I'd go every night if I could."
"Every night?" He shook his head. "You really are a movie junkie."
"And a book junkie," she said, grinning. "And a chocolate junkie. And a computer junkie. So, what do you like?"
"My Mustang." They were standing beside it now, and he patted the roof.
"That's it? You don't like anything but your car?"
His gaze moved over her, long and slow. "I can think of one or two other things," he said with a wicked grin.
Cara felt her cheeks grow hot under his sensual gaze. She cleared her throat. "Like what?" she asked breathlessly.
"Like hair the color of spun gold, and eyes the color of a peaceful mountain lake, and a smile that's brighter than the sun."
"I had no idea you were a poet."
"I'm not."
He opened the door for her, then walked around to the other side and slid behind the wheel.
"Do you want to go home?" he asked.
"Not really, why?"
"I thought we could go for a drive."
"I'd like that."
He started the car and the engine came to life with a low growl. Once he got out of town, he found a long straightaway and goosed it up.
It was like flying, Cara thought, one hand clutching the edge of her seat.
"Do you want me to slow down?" he asked.
"No, I love it!"
"Hang on!"
It was exhilarating, flying through the dark night. She knew it was an incredibly stupid thing to do. A flat tire, a rut in the road, a skid, anything could be fatal at this speed, but it felt wonderful and a little bit wicked.
Vince muttered an oath when he heard the siren. A glance in the rearview mirror showed flashing red lights coming up fast behind him.
Had he been alone, he might have tried to outrun the law, but not when Cara was with him. He had already put her life in danger by driving like some reckless teenager.
He pulled off the road, rolled down the window, and waited.
A cop approached him a moment later. "Can I see your driver's license, sir?"
Vince had it out and ready.
The cop looked it over, then shined his flashlight in Vince's face. "Do you know how fast you were going back there?"
"Yes, sir."
The cop tucked his flashlight under his arm and flipped open his ticket book. "This is going to cost you big bucks."
"Officer, you really don't want to give me a ticket."
The cop looked at him. "Is that right?"
"That's right." Vince gazed deep into the cop's eyes. "A warning will do just as well this time, don't you think?"
"Yes," the cop said, nodding. "A warning will do just as well this time." He closed his ticket book. "Have a nice evening, folks."
"Thank you, officer."
Cara stared at Vince, her eyes wide. "How did you do that?"
"I don't know. Just my winning personality, I guess."
She laughed. "You are so lucky. I'll bet that ticket would have cost you at least four hundred dollars."
"At least."
After pulling onto the road again, he drove a mile or two and then turned off on a one-lane dirt road flanked by shrubs and tall trees.
Cara glanced around, a little shiver of unease snaking down her spine. Was she going to be one of those girls who wound up dead in a ditch? "What are we doing here?"
"There's a pretty little pond down the road a ways. Not afraid of the dark, are you?"
"I don't know." She could hear the news flash now. Girl's body found in the woods. Film at eleven. She glanced over her shoulder. Where was Di Giorgio when she needed
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