Trace of Fever
Page 105
Braking in the middle of the road, Trace turned to stare at her. His fair hair was mussed, his T-shirt dirty. He stared at her with hazel eyes so bright, they looked lit from behind. His jaw ticked.
And damn it, she just didn’t care. She didn’t want this to end. “I want to see you again.”
He went comically blank. “What?”
Why did that surprise him? “You know.” She gestured with her hand. “See you.” She could really use some comfort right now, but he didn’t look all that receptive to the idea. “Like…date? I’ve never dated, remember?”
Brows pulling down into another frown, heaving a little, his nostrils flared, Trace continued to stare at her.
His attitude was starting to annoy her. “Okay, look, I know it’s a stretch, you and me together in a relationship, but you don’t have to act like—”
So fast that she yelped, Trace reached out and caught the back of her neck. As he leaned in, he hauled her across the seat so he could close his mouth over hers. Her lips parted in surprise and his tongue moved in, thorough and hot and definitely possessive.
Wow. It wasn’t exactly comfort, but it’d work. On a soft, accepting moan, Priss slid her hands up his hard chest and around his neck. No one else could possibly feel so solid, so safe and sexy and…perfect. He pressed her back into the seat, his kiss consuming her.
A horn beeped.
Reluctantly, Trace drew back in infinitesimal degrees. He had one hand on the steering wheel, one on her neck. His gaze moved over her face, and then he shook his head. “You’re going to make me nuts, Priscilla.”
He reseated himself and drove forward again.
Nonplussed, Priss settled back in her seat. The way his moods blew hot and cold was addling her brain. “So…that kiss. Does it mean you want to keep seeing me, too?”
“It does.”
He didn’t seem all that happy about it. After a few minutes of silence, she said, “I still have to get Liger and go to the shop to check on things.”
“When?”
She didn’t really want to go anywhere without Trace, but with the danger over, she couldn’t bear to be apart from Liger any longer. And really, the shop required her input. Her one and only employee, Gary, could only do so much on his own.
Downcast, Priss admitted, “The sooner, the better.”
He nodded. “If I arrange it, will you agree to let Jackson take you to Dare’s until I can wrap up things here? Then I’ll go with you to the shop.”
He wanted to accompany her? Priss wasn’t sure what to make of that. “How long will it take you?”
“A couple of days.” He glanced at her. “Everything’s already in place, so it won’t be long.”
Her spirits lifted as she looked out her window at the passing scenery. “All right.”
“You mean it this time? I’d like to trust you, Priss.”
She’d like that, too. “I promise that I won’t ever mislead you again.”
“That’s a start.”
A start to what, exactly? Happiness? She wanted to be happy, but Murray had disrupted so many lives that she couldn’t think about herself too much right now. “Do you really think that Alice will be all right?”
“Yes.” Trace firmed his mouth and nodded. “I have to believe that, or I’d go crazy thinking about what my sister has been through.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Your sister?”
“Trust goes both ways, honey.”
“What does that mean?”
Visibly bracing himself, Trace said, “My last name is Rivers, not Miller.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, my God, I was right about your name.”
“You’ve been right about a whole lot of things.”
She whispered the name, “Trace Rivers.” Nice. “That sounds better.”
Trace wasn’t done. “My sister, Alani, was taken. Not by Murray, but others like him.”
There was no mistaking the gravity of the subject for him, and Priss, although she’d already heard him say as much to Murray, recognized that he’d just taken a giant step toward trusting her. It was such a fragile thing, so incredible, that she wanted to throw herself against him.
“And you’ve been set on wiping out human traffickers since then?”
“Something like that.”
Having it hit close to home had probably spurred Trace, but Priss knew he’d never turn a blind eye to injustice or cruelty. Keeping her tone gentle, she asked, “How long did they have her?”
“Only a few days. But they took her across the southern border into Tijuana.” Trace flexed his hands on the steering wheel. “I couldn’t go after her. She was kidnapped by people who knew me.”
Guessing how devastating that’d be for Trace, Priss covered her mouth. “So if you’d gone, it might have put her at more risk?”
Restless, he pawed the steering wheel as if he wanted to break it in two. “It still burns my ass to think about it.”
Because he was a take-charge man, but when the one person he cared about most had needed him, he’d been forced to sit back and entrust her rescue to others. “How did you get to her?”
“Dare went instead, and I…” He sucked in an angry breath. “I waited for news.”
She put a hand on his thigh. “I’m sure Dare is…competent?”
That made Trace laugh, but it had more to do with irony than with humor. “Yeah, he’s competent.”
And damn it, she just didn’t care. She didn’t want this to end. “I want to see you again.”
He went comically blank. “What?”
Why did that surprise him? “You know.” She gestured with her hand. “See you.” She could really use some comfort right now, but he didn’t look all that receptive to the idea. “Like…date? I’ve never dated, remember?”
Brows pulling down into another frown, heaving a little, his nostrils flared, Trace continued to stare at her.
His attitude was starting to annoy her. “Okay, look, I know it’s a stretch, you and me together in a relationship, but you don’t have to act like—”
So fast that she yelped, Trace reached out and caught the back of her neck. As he leaned in, he hauled her across the seat so he could close his mouth over hers. Her lips parted in surprise and his tongue moved in, thorough and hot and definitely possessive.
Wow. It wasn’t exactly comfort, but it’d work. On a soft, accepting moan, Priss slid her hands up his hard chest and around his neck. No one else could possibly feel so solid, so safe and sexy and…perfect. He pressed her back into the seat, his kiss consuming her.
A horn beeped.
Reluctantly, Trace drew back in infinitesimal degrees. He had one hand on the steering wheel, one on her neck. His gaze moved over her face, and then he shook his head. “You’re going to make me nuts, Priscilla.”
He reseated himself and drove forward again.
Nonplussed, Priss settled back in her seat. The way his moods blew hot and cold was addling her brain. “So…that kiss. Does it mean you want to keep seeing me, too?”
“It does.”
He didn’t seem all that happy about it. After a few minutes of silence, she said, “I still have to get Liger and go to the shop to check on things.”
“When?”
She didn’t really want to go anywhere without Trace, but with the danger over, she couldn’t bear to be apart from Liger any longer. And really, the shop required her input. Her one and only employee, Gary, could only do so much on his own.
Downcast, Priss admitted, “The sooner, the better.”
He nodded. “If I arrange it, will you agree to let Jackson take you to Dare’s until I can wrap up things here? Then I’ll go with you to the shop.”
He wanted to accompany her? Priss wasn’t sure what to make of that. “How long will it take you?”
“A couple of days.” He glanced at her. “Everything’s already in place, so it won’t be long.”
Her spirits lifted as she looked out her window at the passing scenery. “All right.”
“You mean it this time? I’d like to trust you, Priss.”
She’d like that, too. “I promise that I won’t ever mislead you again.”
“That’s a start.”
A start to what, exactly? Happiness? She wanted to be happy, but Murray had disrupted so many lives that she couldn’t think about herself too much right now. “Do you really think that Alice will be all right?”
“Yes.” Trace firmed his mouth and nodded. “I have to believe that, or I’d go crazy thinking about what my sister has been through.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Your sister?”
“Trust goes both ways, honey.”
“What does that mean?”
Visibly bracing himself, Trace said, “My last name is Rivers, not Miller.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, my God, I was right about your name.”
“You’ve been right about a whole lot of things.”
She whispered the name, “Trace Rivers.” Nice. “That sounds better.”
Trace wasn’t done. “My sister, Alani, was taken. Not by Murray, but others like him.”
There was no mistaking the gravity of the subject for him, and Priss, although she’d already heard him say as much to Murray, recognized that he’d just taken a giant step toward trusting her. It was such a fragile thing, so incredible, that she wanted to throw herself against him.
“And you’ve been set on wiping out human traffickers since then?”
“Something like that.”
Having it hit close to home had probably spurred Trace, but Priss knew he’d never turn a blind eye to injustice or cruelty. Keeping her tone gentle, she asked, “How long did they have her?”
“Only a few days. But they took her across the southern border into Tijuana.” Trace flexed his hands on the steering wheel. “I couldn’t go after her. She was kidnapped by people who knew me.”
Guessing how devastating that’d be for Trace, Priss covered her mouth. “So if you’d gone, it might have put her at more risk?”
Restless, he pawed the steering wheel as if he wanted to break it in two. “It still burns my ass to think about it.”
Because he was a take-charge man, but when the one person he cared about most had needed him, he’d been forced to sit back and entrust her rescue to others. “How did you get to her?”
“Dare went instead, and I…” He sucked in an angry breath. “I waited for news.”
She put a hand on his thigh. “I’m sure Dare is…competent?”
That made Trace laugh, but it had more to do with irony than with humor. “Yeah, he’s competent.”
