Page 47

“Is there anything else, or can my man and I finish up here?”

His man?

I forgot to inhale. The flare of heat that curled low in my gut was unwelcome and embarrassing, like he’d reached inside and flipped a switch I didn’t give him permission to touch. I clenched my jaw, furious that two words from him could rearrange my insides.

“You’re good.”

The man took a step backward but didn’t turn around until he’d gotten three paces away. Watching. Measuring. Filing us somewhere in his mind.

Then he walked off, boots crunching through the snow.

I breathed out through my nose. Although the man left, I had an uneasy feeling in my gut that was more than Yuriy flirting with me. “Let’s finish this.”

“Already ahead of you.”

We hauled our tree to the baler, shaking off snow. Yuriy went to pay for the one we ruined while ours got baled, tightened under mesh and twine, transforming it from wild to manageable.

I hope Yelena likes it.

We got the tree lashed to the roof rack and hit the road. I let out a sigh. The place gave me the creeps.

“Hey, you’re not tired, are you?” Yuriy asked.

“No, I’m good.”

A few minutes passed. Then he tapped on my knee. “I’m thinking.”

“Well, that’s a first.”

“Dick.” He slapped my knee. “Maybe you should take a nap when we get back.”

“I’m not tired.”

“But you’ll need all your energy for later tonight. I’ll make the hotel reservation when we get back.”

My throat tightened, and I averted my head to stare out the window instead of breaking his fingers and telling him in no uncertain terms that I wouldn’t meet him at a hotel for sex.

A car—a black BMW—appeared in the mirror, too close, too fast. I felt it before I saw it. That old prickle at the base of my neck, the kind that never lied.

I narrowed my eyes, tracking its movement. The windshield was tinted, a perfect black mirror, hiding whoever sat behind it.

“Is it me, or was something off about that man at the tree farm?” I asked, my gut tightening.

“Fuck no, it wasn’t just you. Why?”

“I think we’re being tailed. Speed up a little.”

Yuriy pressed his foot down. The SUV surged forward, but the BMW matched us without hesitation, closing the gap like it owned the road.

It wasn’t the only one. Fuck. An identical BMW flanked us on the other side.

“Turn left,” I muttered. If this turned deadly, the fewer people there were around, the less the collateral damage.

Yuriy flicked the turn signal at the last second and swung into the side street. The BMWs followed. No pause. No hesitation.

“Yeah,” I said quietly, pulse thudding in my ears. “It’s not a coincidence. They’re on us.”

Headlights crowded our bumper, then slid to the side. Another set swung up in front, crawling, forcing Yuriy to ease off the gas. When the third car rolled out of a side road ahead and stopped crosswise, I sighed.