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weaving through the traffic that was now pouring onto the road. He
could make it, he could follow him, see where he was going—
    Just then, the woman who’d been standing with her back
against the tree ran down the other side of the road.
    “Wait for me!” she yelled, waving her arms wildly at a
departing SUV. “Petra, Chris, wait!”
    But the vehicle didn’t stop, just kept rolling down the road
as if the nearby blue lights were after them alone.
    Garrett swung his leg over the bike, looking back to the
road. Ford’s truck was still there in the distance. On his bike, he could
probably weave through the traffic, catch up with him, blend in…
    “Hey, somebody!” The woman drew near, still waving at the
traffic, a frantic look on her face. “Don’t leave me here, please! My ride left
me! I don’t even know where I’m at.” She had long black hair that curled and moved
like a wild thing as she turned her head this way and that; full, pouting lips
and expressive eyes that raged at the fast-moving cars. She was beautiful. She
was alone…abandoned.
    Garrett frowned. God damn his sense of chivalry.
    He kicked the bike into gear and barreled straight across
the road, not paying attention to the vehicles that had to slam on their brakes
to prevent a collision. He slid to a stop just beside the woman and held out
his hand.
    “Come with me.”
    She reached for him, then hesitated. “Really? Who are you?”
    “I’m your ride out of here. Get on, the cops are coming.”
    She glanced to her right, where the sirens were screaming
louder than ever. He could even see the blue lights reflected in her eyes—a
deep green, at his best guess in the flashing light. Her fists tightened at her
sides, and when she took a deep breath, he was impressed with his fortitude,
not even glancing at the way her cleavage swelled at the top of her burgundy
neckline. Well, not glancing long , anyway.
    “I hope I don’t regret this,” she said as she grabbed his
hand.
    He steadied her as she climbed onto the bike behind him. Her
thighs gripped his and her hands locked around his midsection. He tensed his
abdominal muscles and revved the bike’s engine. “Hold on tight.”
    He kicked the bike into motion and they joined the flow of
traffic. Garrett smiled at the feel of wind on his face and the feel of hot
woman behind him. He was almost sorry he couldn’t see her now, that wild hair
streaming behind them like a living flag. Her face was plastered against his
back, and her thighs were clamped so hard against his that he couldn’t help but
imagine what it’d be like to have her beneath him.
    Maybe later , he thought with an evil grin, swerving
into a gap between two cars, a gap almost too small for his bike. For now, they
had to get the hell out of there without being arrested.
    They tore off into the night, driving much too fast. Exactly
how Garrett liked it.

Chapter Three
     
    Mia held tight to the guy as he weaved the bike in and out
of traffic, the long country road clogged with other drivers with the same idea
they had—to get out as fast as they could. Her heart thudded against the guy’s
back, and she tried really hard not to think about how firmly muscled her
rescuer was. Good grief, it was like hugging a rock.
    She turned her face into his back to get the wind off it,
and breathed him in.
    Mmmm. He smelled clean, with a hint of musky cologne. Her
belly stirred. Man. He smelled like a hot man.
    Chill, Mia, you don’t know that he’s single.
    She ignored the inner voice and adjusted her grip around his
stomach, indulging her fingertips in a brief moment of subtle wandering. Good
lord, washboard abs. The man was ripped.
    And he just might be a serial killer. You don’t know shit
about him.
    His voice interrupted her internal argument.
    “Traffic’s slowing,” he yelled over his shoulder. She peeked
to the side, and sure enough, brake lights were flashing ahead. “Roadblock, I’m
sure.”
    “I need to get back into the