how—would she have seen a photograph of a beachcomber from Sant’Rosa?
He glanced at her and suddenly swore in a liquid language that sounded vaguely Italian before ordering, ‘Pull my shirt out of my trousers.’
‘What?’
He flashed her a feral grin. ‘Contain yourself. You’re showing far too much gleaming skin—far too obvious. Cover it with my shirt.’
‘But that leaves you exposed.’
‘I’m much darker than you, so I’m harder to see.’ The amusement was gone; this time it was an order. ‘Pull the shirt out from my waistband and haul it up over the arm furthest from you; I’ll tell you when to drag it over my head.’
‘Surely stopping—’
‘I’m not stopping,’ he said quietly. ‘I don’t know who else might be around. Get the shirt off.’
Lauren gritted her teeth as her questing fingers skidded over sleek skin padded with muscle. Once his arm had been freed she waited, the material gathered in her hand.
‘There’s a straight length of road— OK, haul it over my head. Now!’
She jerked the soft, warm garment over his head in one smooth movement.
‘Get it off my other arm—now!’ he barked.
He made it easy for her, lithely shrugging free of the shirt. ‘Now cover yourself,’ he ordered in a tone that lifted every tiny hair on her body upright.
Silently she hauled it over her head, shivering as the material settled around her shoulders. The faint scent of his skin—vital, potent—almost banished the metallic taste of fear in her mouth.
Guy commanded, ‘Crouch down on the floor and stay there until I tell you to get out. Cover your face and your hands. If we stop, don’t move unless I tell you to. If we get stopped, don’t say anything—try not to breathe.’
The ice beneath her ribs expanding, she obeyed, folding herself into the foot well and praying that the maverick instinct to trust him hadn’t played her false. ‘Those men were aiming for the resort, weren’t they?’
He didn’t try to evade the truth. ‘That was the direction they were heading towards.’
‘Do you think there might be violence?’
When he didn’t answer immediately she said with sharp emphasis, ‘I’m not going to faint or scream or panic.’
The swift flash of his grin reassured her. ‘I believe you.’ But the momentary spark of humour dissolved into grimness as he swerved to avoid some small animal scurrying across the road.
Lauren braced herself, wincing as her elbow hit the floor.
He went on calmly, ‘What their leader—or leaders—plan, I have no idea. If they find the resort empty, they’ll probably take what they want, get drunk on the contents of the bar, then go back home.’
She nodded. ‘How long will it take us to get to the resort?’
‘We’re not going there,’ he said, changing gear.
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