Protector by Catherine Mann Read Free Book Online Page A

radiated off the asphalt with stored heat from the afternoon sun, relieved only by the kick of the ever-present sea breeze. Chuck looked at Jolynn and felt an answering heat inside himself. What the hell was it about this woman?
    He swiped a forearm over his brow and waited for her to speak, using the moment to scan the area. Work used to offer him distance, control. Not tonight.
    Jolynn lifted her head and extended her arm. The key fob dangled from her fingers. He stared into her glistening green eyes, then flipped his palm up, snagging the controls just as she dropped it. “Where do you want to go, Red?”
    “Drive, Tomas. Top down and as fast as she’ll go.”
    Without another word between them, he opened the door and secured the convertible top for an open-air ride. Thank God she was pretty much out of it, giving him a chance to check the car for further tampering.
    He slid into the driver’s side, and the seat embraced him with a seductive blend of expensive leather and Jolynn. Somebody could market that scent for a mint. Chuck barely suppressed his groan at being behind the wheel of a car any man would give his right arm to drive.
    Beside him sat a woman most men would give both arms to spend one night with. But he wasn’t here for sex and nei ther was she.
    He snapped his seat belt. The defiant lift of Jolynn’s chin, he expected. The quiver, however, sucker punched him. Chuck reached across to secure her seat belt with a soft click. A quick flash of gratitude tipped at the corners of her mouth, making him feel like a fraud.
    Hell, he was a fraud. Was his first instinct right? That he’d lost his edge, that he’d left it somewhere in a danktorture cell back in Turkey? If so, Berg, the colonel… Jolynn would be the ones to pay the price.
    If she was as innocent as he thought, but that brought him right back to thinking his instincts were in serious doubt these days.
    Regardless, his best course of action was to spend more time with her, and a drive to blow off steam sounded like a damn good idea.
    Checking for tails, Chuck guided the convertible through Genoa on a deliberately convoluted route. Once confident they weren’t being followed, he turned onto a two-lane highway snaking along the Mediterranean shore and edged the superbly engineered car toward the speed limit.
    God, but he appreciated a well-tuned engine, whether it powered a car, or military machinery. He’d been a part of testing upgrades of everything from unmanned aerial vehicles to a hypersonic jet.
    The power surged through his hands on the wheel, his foot on the gas. He’d been so long out of an airplane, his body soaked up the rush. The car wasn’t quite the same as being airborne, but the rush of power and speed was amazing all the same as he damn near flew past the trees, a crumbled castle ruins, a restored villa. The past and present merged the farther he drove.
    Jolynn’s yelp of exultation carried on the wind. She ripped the tie from her ponytail and tossed it into the blurring shoreline. Her hair trailed like a fiery banner in the wind.
    For the first time in the two years since he’d been taken captive, he was flying. The howl in his gut echoed with the roaring wind.
    He floored it and left Genoa behind.
    *  *  *
     
    Cupping a forties-era microphone, Livia Cicero submerged herself into the schmaltziness of “Bewitched, Bothered, Bewildered.” The stars outside the glass ceiling gave the whole night a vintage paper moon feeling she soaked up in her soul so parched for artistic outlet.
    Her voice wasn’t what it once was, not since smoke inhalation had wreaked havoc on her vocal cords and ended her rising career. But she was alive and otherwise healthy. These days she sang for herself, something she could live with most of the time.
    Although it felt damn good right now to use her voice again for a higher purpose, something beyond just herself.
    Over the past months singing on the
Fortuna
, she’d noticed a number of repeat