The Christmas Clue by Delores Fossen Read Free Book Online Page A

only half her body. For some stupid reason, she seemed even hotter and more provocative than she did without the blanket.
    “All right. I’m covered. Satisfied?” she asked.
    Not even close.
    Cass glanced at him, sat up in the seat, did a full 360-degree check of their surroundings and, apparently content that they were safe, she opened the glove compartment. “You have a first-aid kit?”
    Alarmed, he looked at her. “Are you hurt?”
    “No. But you are.” She pointed to the jagged slice across his left bicep. He hadn’t even been aware of the injury, but it looked to be from a bullet.
    She extracted the small travel-size kit and scooted across the seat toward him. Very close to him. She brought with her the scent of the woods. The fragrant cedars. The leaves. The winter soil. The smoke. But she also brought the smell of flowers. Her shampoo, he discovered, when she leaned across him and her hair went right in his face. It was distracting. But not nearly as distracting as having her firm, small breasts pressed against his right arm.
    “You saved my life back there,” she said, working quickly to clean the wound. “So, while I’m not thrilled about what just happened, I have faith in you.”
    Matt winced, both at her comment and the poking around she was doing to his injury. “Faith?”
    Cass’s gaze met his. So did her breath. “Yes. You know, as in confidence in your ability to keep us alive and get into Dominic’s estate.”
    Matt leaned back to put some distance between them, and he took the ramp that led to Highway 281, which would take them directly into San Antonio. “Don’t have that kind of faith in me.”
    She shrugged and kept working on the bandage. “Too late.”
    “It’s never too late. Let me tell you something about me. I don’t play well with others. I do mainly solo assignments because that’s the way I like it.”
    “Keep talking,” she insisted. “Because this is going to hurt, and I’d rather you have your mind on something else when I do this—”
    Without further warning, she doused his wound with antiseptic. And she was right.
    It. Frickin’. Hurt.
    Matt barely muffled a groan.
    “Besides, faith is sort of a moot point,” she continued. “I have to trust you.”
    Hell. Now they were onto trust. What next? Fuzzy teddy bears and air kisses?
    “I’m not the trustworthy type,” he ground out while she put some antiseptic cream on the open wound. It stung. Matt could have sworn he saw stars. “I killed a woman once.”
    With her antiseptic-coated finger poised in midair, Cass stopped. Looked at him again. “Why, because she bandaged your wound?”
    He couldn’t quite muster up a hollow laugh. “Not exactly. But it might be a valid motive.”
    “Sorry. But I can’t risk you getting an infection.” She wiped her hands with some spare gauze. “I need you healed and raring to go.”
    Need. That word was like trust and faith. Nails on a proverbial chalkboard. He’d spent his life trying to avoid stuff just like that.
    His parents had taught him some valuable lessons, and one of the biggest was that love and personal relationships weren’t for everyone, especially him.
    “You’re freezing,” he heard Cass say.
    Now she was concerned about his body temperature. When was this going to stop? “I’ll live,” he growled.
    His icy tone and steely glare would have put most people off. It didn’t work on her. She sat back down, hip to hip with him, and draped the blanket over both of them. He was about to tell that the closeness just wasn’t a good idea, but she spoke first.
    “So, where are we going?”
    Though it was a valid question, it surprised Matt. After all, he’d just confessed to killing a woman, and he thought that would have piqued her interest and generated a comment or two.
    “I still keep a small apartment in San Antonio near my office,” he explained. “I need supplies, equipment—including a clean cell phone—and I need to regroup. It shouldn’t