Reckless Read Free

voice that distracted him from the matter at hand, dammit.
“If I wanted you dead, you'd be playing a harp by now.” His grip on
her wrists tightened when she tried to pull them free. Her breath
was warm on his face in contrast to the chill breeze.
    She twisted beneath him, trying to wriggle
out from under him—a futile attempt. He pressed himself harder
against her, his chest jammed so firmly into hers that each shaky
breath she drew lifted him. He knew he must be hurting her. He
didn’t want to hurt her. He didn’t want to do a lot of the shit he
was required to do at the moment.
    When she saw that her struggling was useless,
she stopped. He eased the pressure of his body on hers. “What are
you going to do with me?” she finally asked.
    “Keep you quiet about what you saw in that
alley tonight. That's all.”
    “That's all,” she mocked. “You might as well
shoot me and get it over with, then. You can't lie on top of me
forever.” The venom in her voice was real, and he was shocked she
could do more than cower in fear and swear she'd never utter a word
if he'd only let her go.
    “You got a smart mouth on you, lady. I don't
need to keep you quiet forever. Just for a few days.” His common
sense whispered that it might be closer to a few weeks, but he
ignored it. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her—or him.
    She seemed to absorb what he'd said and turn
it over in her mind. A little more fear came into her eyes. “How do
you plan to do that?”
    It hit him then that, tough as she came off,
she was probably more afraid of him than she'd ever been of anyone
in her life. He eased his grip on her wrists and moved off her to
let her sit up. He never let go of her hands, though, and he kept
her feet in sight at all times. Her question was one he'd been
trying to answer since he'd first seen her near the alley. No
matter how he figured it, there was only one solution. He stood and
pulled her to her feet. “Come on.” When he tugged on her, she
resisted. Her bare feet braced in the wet grass, she refused to
move a step. He turned to look at her.
    She squared her shoulders and met his gaze.
“No.”
    His brows shot up as she surprised him yet
again. “What do you mean, 'no'?”
    “Do what you have to, mister, but don't ask
me to make it any easier.”
    Nick shook his head, unable to understand her
train of thought. He pulled the automatic from beneath his coat,
intending to persuade her to be a little more cooperative. When he
looked at her again she stood straighter and closed her huge dark
eyes. Her lashes brushed her cheeks. She looked like a proud Mayan
princess about to be sacrificed for the good of her people or
something.
    Her voice trembling, she said, “Not in the
face, okay?”
    “ What?”
    ''It will be easier on my sister, when she
has to identify what’s left of me.” She opened her eyes again. They
shimmered, staring at a spot in the distance. “Just consider it
a...last request.” When he said nothing in response, she looked him
in the eyes. “Could we get this over with? I never thought I'd go
out bawling, but if you drag it out much longer, I—”
    “Hell!” He thrust the gun back into the
shoulder holster and grabbed her again. “Will you get this through
your thick skull? I’m not gonna to kill you. You have trouble with
English or something?”
    Eyes flashing wider, she exploded in a burst
of Spanish, none of which he understood. He supposed he could
probably guess at most of it, though. He hadn't meant his remark as
a racial slur.
    Her stream of insults ended. She drew a
breath and whispered, “I speak English better than you do, you
overgrown thug. I was born ten miles from here. My father practiced
at—” She bit her lips as if to stop herself. That aroused his
curiosity.
    “Go on?” He wondered what her old man
practiced and hoped it wasn’t law.
    She averted her gaze. “What are you going to
do with me?”
    So she wasn't talking. All right. He could
find out anything