Millions To Spare

“That really wasn’t funny, Harrison.”

“Take off your shoes.”

“Seriously. We’re running for our lives here. At least my life. Well, my freedom. And you’re making jokes about poisonous things.”

“Venomous things.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

Of course she didn’t. He was rescuing her. But he didn’t have to be such a jerk about it.

“Take off your shoes,” he repeated.

But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Even if snakes and scorpions were rare on manicured lawns, she wasn’t dashing around in the pitch-dark not knowing what she might be stepping on.

He let go of her wrist, turned his back and crouched down. “Then hop on.”

“I’m not-”

“Blisters, scorpions or me. Unless you’d rather deal with the police.”

Without another word, Julia hiked up her skirt and clambered onto his back.

He grunted and shifted her into place, wrapping his hands around her bare thighs before straightening.

“Hang on tight,” he warned, and then he started to jog.

There was nothing but her panties between her and his suit. Nothing at all between his hands and her thighs. She could smell his hair, hear his deep breathing, feel the shift and play of his muscles.

And then, there was the friction.

Oh, the friction.

She tried to shift, to get away from it, to alleviate the embarrassing-

“Hold still,” he commanded.

She froze.

Unfortunately, he kept moving, and the feeling began to throb between her legs.

What was she, a danger junkie or something? First the kiss and now this? If she wasn’t careful, she was going to-

“How can you be getting tired?” he asked.

“I’m not tired.”

“You’re panting in my ear.”

“Sorry.” She tried to get her mind on something else. Poor Millions to Spare. Or poor Leopold’s Legacy, ready, willing and waiting to race.

Or the jail cell.

Or the police.

She glanced behind her.

Thankfully, she didn’t see floodlights or dogs or an army of uniforms hot on their heels.

A shot of adrenaline went through her again, and she buried her face in the crook of Harrison’s neck. What if he couldn’t get them out of this? What happened then?

She tightened her hold on him, inhaling his scent, convincing herself he was some kind of superman who could face down any danger, solve any problem. And then the pulse started again, and the friction, and the longing.

He came to a halt and slid her down off his back.

She all but groaned at the sensation.

“Stay nice and quiet,” he whispered.

She nodded, not trusting herself to open her mouth. Every nerve ending was on fire for him.

He took her hand. “There are four cars in the garage. The one at the far end is the Jeep. I won’t be turning on the lights. But the door’s going to make quite a lot of noise when we open it. Not to mention the motor of the Jeep.”

Not to mention Julia if she didn’t get her body calmed down.

“I hope they followed Alex and Brittany. And the music should cover our sound. But if they start to chase us, hang on tight. And for God’s sake, do up your seat belt.”

Julia nodded again.

He looked at her closely. “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” she managed, her pulse finally slowing, her body coming back under control.

“Good to hear.” He slowly opened the door.

They passed through, and he pointed her in the direction of the Jeep. “Feel your way along the wall. I’m going to fill a water bottle and pull a few other things together.”

She tripped a couple of times over unseen objects in the dark, but managed to feel her way past one, two, then three cars. She found the Jeep, and made her way into the passenger side, fastening her seat belt tight.

She heard Harrison at the driver’s side. He shoved some gear into the backseat.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

She nodded, then realized he couldn’t see her. “Yes.”

She heard a click, then a groan and a whine, and the overhead door in front of them cranked upward.

The lights from the palace appeared, then the palm trees, then the stars. So far, nobody seemed to have raised an alarm.

Harrison started the engine and eased their way out. His profile came clear as he hit the garage-door remote, and the door whined shut again behind them.

Still driving slowly, he turned them away from the palace.

So far, so good.

They crossed the lawn, then followed a rutted track down a sloping hill, and the buildings disappeared behind them.

She watched over her shoulder, then looked at Harrison. “Did we do it?”

“Maybe. I’m not sure yet.”

Then a pair of headlights appeared on the hill, rocking airborne at the crest, then slamming down onto the rutted tracks.

“Hang on,” Harrison called, yanking the gearshift and revving the engine.

Chapter Eight

Harrison pointed the Jeep toward the northeast corner of his property. He knew how to find a short, dirt road that would take them to a small wadi. They’d cross it, and then they’d be onto the dunes.

He glanced at the bouncing lights in the rearview mirror. Whoever was behind him was in a sedan. So they wouldn’t be following onto the desert. Well, hopefully, they’d follow about twenty meters or so, then sink to the axles.

Putting the Jeep into third, he spared a quick glance at Julia. She was white as a ghost, her eyes wide in the dim light, and her hands squeezed the armrests in a death grip.

“Will they shoot at us?” she rasped.

“I certainly hope not.”

Oops. Bad answer. She looked even more terrified, if that was possible, shrinking down in her seat.

“Nobody is going to shoot at us,” he assured her, even though he wasn’t sure it was true. He couldn’t worry about bullets at the moment. He turned his attention back to the terrain.

“You should turn me in,” Julia shouted to him above the noise of the bouncing vehicle.

“I don’t think so,” he responded as they picked up the dirt road.

“You’re going to be in trouble.”

“Not if we get away.”

“Won’t they radio ahead?” She’d seen enough car-chase movies to know about roadblocks, spike strips and air surveillance.

“They won’t be putting up a roadblock on the sand dunes,” he said.