The mechanic’s eyes grew wider.Wilder.“A great big fuckin’ dog.”
Yolanda’s shoulders tensed.“Hmmm.And you gave him your car because…?”
“Because he growled at me like a great big fuckin’dog.Aren’t you listenin’ to me?Struth!You broads with badges.The bloke’s eyes turned silver, for Chrissake.Silver!”
A heavy lump filled Peter’s throat.“Tell me about the woman with him.”
Wild eyes swung to him.“She looked shit scared.Especially after gettin’ off the phone from the cops.An’ her shirt was all torn, like someone had tried to rape her.”
Molten rage threatened to consume Peter.Rape.The word curdled in his mouth like sour milk.He gave the man a level look, forcing calm through his veins and muscles.“Did she go with him willingly?”
The mechanic looked at Yolanda.“She didn’t put up a fight, but she didn’t look happy about it either.”
Peter’s fist bunched.Not putting up a fight wasnotReggie’s style.Unless this Irish son-of-a-bitch had something over her, she’d fight tooth and nail to escape him.Something was wrong about this whole situation.It just didn’t feel right.
He flicked his own quick glance at Yolanda, not missing the intense way she was staring at him.She started, as if caught doing something wrong and, face poised and composed, turned her attention back to the mechanic, quick smart.
The knot in Peter’s gut—the one twisting there from the second he’d received Reggie’s aborted phone call too long ago—tightened.Not right.Something was just not right…
“I am assuming you have given the arriving officer your registration details, yes?”Yolanda’s smooth, deep voice played over his nerves and he scowled.He was too aware of her sensuality.He needed to focus.Jesus.His sister had been abducted.
Disgust rolled through him and he stepped up to the counter, staring hard at the mechanic.“I want to know every detail about this growling Irishman.I want to know everything he said.To you and to her.Word for word, inflection to Irish-Goddamn-inflection.”
“Are you her brother?The cop I spoke to earlier said he was tryin’ to find her brother.”
Peter clenched his fists.“Yeah, I’m her brother.Now what did the Irishman say?”
“He didn’t look like he was gonna hurt her, but he was a scary bastard.”
Peter ground his teeth.“What.Did.He.Say?”
The mechanic turned his stare from Peter to Yolanda and back to Peter again.“He said he was keepin’ her alive.Safe from?—”
“Detective…” Yolanda’s hand brushed Peter’s arm, her intoxicating warmth invading his body as she stepped closer to him.He flicked her a look and his gut twisted.Direct blue eyes held his.Kept him frozen.“I think you are a touch too close to this situation, yes?Leave the questioning with me.”Heavily mascaraed lashes fluttered before her mesmerizing gaze returned to Peter.“Getting what I want is my specialty.”
Peter scowled again and he narrowed his eyes.Is she working you?Does she know what she’s doing to you or is it all an act?
He didn’t know.Things just didn’t feel right.According to the brother in you?Or the cop?
“It’s fine, Yolanda.I can handle this.”
“I know you can,” she said, understanding sympathy softening the sensual haughtiness of her face.“But let me be your partner.”
He stared at her, his pulse hammering.The brother in him was worried sick, but she was right, he was too close to the situation at the moment to think rationally.He took a step back, letting her take charge of the questioning.
He needed to clear his head.Of his fear for Reggie’s safety, of his anger at her abductor and his increasing attraction to his new partner.God only knew how though.All three emotions were growing in strength with each passing second, and it made his already churning gut churn more.With desireanddisgust.
“I have all the details the mechanic could recall of the man last seen with your sister plus averydetailed description of the stolen pick-up.”Yolanda’s sensual heat reached out for Peter all the way from the passenger seat of his car.“He sounds quite menacing.Tall, dark hair, eyes that may or may not be grey.Irish accent.Lean but muscular.The mechanic described him as…” she referred to a small notebook in her hand, “‘fucking two roos short of the paddock and nastier than a cut snake’.I am assuming he means the suspect is not friendly, yes?The uniform has posted an APB on both the Irishman and the pickup.”She turned her inescapable gaze on him and his skin prickled, making him want to squirm in his own seat.Instead, he gripped the wheel harder, turning into the quiet street she had directed him to.Long, slender fingers feathered over his thigh, high, so close to the bulge of his groin he almost swerved off the road.“She will be fine, Peter.I promise.”
He ground his teeth, trying to focus on her words but distracted beyond belief.There was that touch again.That sensual brush.Making his body respond on an utterly physical, utterlymalelevel.Was it innocent?Or calculated?He didn’t like being played, and something about his new partner told him she was doing just that.But why?He studied her from the corner of his eye.“Who is the bastard supposedly saving her from?”
Yolanda gave him a blank expression.Apracticedblank expression.“I don’t understand.”
Peter accelerated through an amber light, his pulse quick, his knuckles white.“The mechanic said the Irishman claimed to be keeping my sister safe from someone.Who is it?”
A long pause followed, before Yolanda shifted in her seat, fidgeting with the notebook.“The bad guys.”
Taken aback, Peter raised his eyebrows.“Thebadguys?”
