An open-air black Jeep with a pretty brunette behind the wheel.
What the fuck?
Her long hair blew in the breeze coming in from all sides of her vehicle, and her lips were moving to the lyrics of an old pop song playing from the speakers.
He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
He had to be hallucinating, because there was not a shred of doubt in his mind that this woman was the same one he’d been watching for months.
With no one behind him at the stop sign, he dropped the kickstand on his bike and swung off it as she started to turn onto the pass.
He had questions in need of answers?
He was going to start right here and now, with Laurel Townsend herself.
CHAPTER 2
She had no sooner made the turn onto the pass when a lunatic on a motorcycle hopped off his bike and walked right into her lane.
The Jeep’s tires shrieked as she stomped on the brakes—not two seconds from ramming into the man. At least, she assumed the giant standing in her way was a man. Either that or a yeti garbed in head-to-toe black riding gear and a matching helmet with a dark face shield that totally obscured his features from view.
She threw up her hands in disbelief. “Are you crazy? I almost hit you.”
He stepped around the hood of the idling vehicle and approached the driver’s side. God, why hadn’t she taken the time to put the doors back on her Jeep today? Normally, she loved driving in the open air, but as the dark stranger came to a halt outside her vehicle she’d never felt more exposed and vulnerable. Although she couldn’t see his eyes behind the gleaming dark shield that hid them, she felt the heat of his silent stare like a blowtorch.
She barely resisted the urge to tug the loose neckline of her white peasant top a little higher, or to attempt to tame some of her windblown dark hair. She was wearing baggy denim cutoff shorts and beat-up cowboy boots, but the way his shielded eyes burned she might have been sitting there with nothing on at all.
The upbeat song she’d been singing to as she drove through town was an irritating distraction now. Without daring to look away from the huge, menacing presence standing not two feet away from her, she reached out and muted the radio.
“Are you lost?” She asked the question if only to fill the awkward silence and to pretend he wasn’t rattling her down to her bones. “Do you speak English?”
“Laurel Townsend.” Two words, spoken from behind the black helmet in a deep, smoky voice.
Holy. Fuck.
All she could do was swallow while her brain began to clang with alarm bells.
Who was this man?
How the hell did he know her twin sister’s name?
Willow’s heart hammered so hard she wondered if he could hear it. Her tongue felt cleaved to the roof of her mouth.
Think, dammit!
Her sister had told her when she’d arrived in Colorado six months ago that she was in some kind of trouble. Laurel refused to explain more, worried that if Willow knew too much she would be in danger as well.
Willow had guessed Laurel’s fear had something to do with her life in Montreal. Now she could only wonder if this man was the danger Laurel had been running from. Either way, she wasn’t about to tell him anything.
If she could do nothing else, she had to try to lead him away from the mountain before he got close to her sister. Even if she had to be the bait.
Without answering him, Willow threw the Jeep into reverse and hit the gas.
The wheels screamed in response, but the vehicle wasn’t moving. She pushed the accelerator to the floor, wincing at the stench of rubber burning on the asphalt while she continued to go nowhere.
Then she glanced to her right and saw the reason why. Except the reason made no logical sense whatsoever.
The stranger was physically holding onto her vehicle. His booted feet stood braced on the pavement, his strong hands gripping the Jeep with inhuman strength.
