Trace of Fever

He cut his gaze to her. “What did you think? That I was hitting on you?”

Her right shoulder lifted. “You had just seen me all but naked.”

God, he didn’t need her to remind him; the image would be forever burned into his brain. “You flaunted your near nakedness, but here’s a news flash for you, Priss. You’re not the first naked woman I’ve seen.”

“And probably not the best-looking, I know.” Hefting the big cat in her arms, Priss stood and went to a well-worn couch. She collapsed onto it in a sprawl. She looked at Trace through slumberous eyes and an edge of curiosity. “But you looked like you enjoyed the show.”

What the hell did she want? A confession that she’d deeply affected him? Well, she wouldn’t get it.

“I have a pulse, so of course I enjoyed it.” The apartment was really no more than two spaces, the living, eating and sleeping area all rolled into one, and a tiny bathroom with stained sink and toilet bowl, and cracked tiles in the shower. There were no barricades, no alternate escape routes other than a window in the bathroom and one behind the couch. It wouldn’t do. Almost absently, he added, “You’re stacked, Priscilla Patterson. And that’s a problem, too.”

“Too?”

“The cat?” Fists on his hips, Trace turned to face her, and saw desolation in her big green eyes. As susceptible to real tears as any other guy, he gentled his tone. “Priss. You need to move Liger someplace safe.”

She shook her head, and hugged the cat tighter. “There isn’t any place. I’m all he has.”

And he was all she had? Looked like it. Trace frowned as he considered things, then he withdrew the prepaid phone again and dialed Dare.

His friend answered on the second ring. “What’s up?”

“I need a favor.”

With a shrug in his tone, Dare said, “Name it.”

“The conundrum I told you about? Well, she has a cat.”

“Is that a euphemism, or are you talking about a pet?”

Trace grinned. “Pet. A big pet.” He lowered the phone to ask Priss, “How much does that monster weigh?”

“He’s not a monster, but he’s twenty-three pounds.” She stared at him with grave distrust. “And what exactly are you doing now?”

Back to the phone, Trace said, “He’s a twenty-three-pound cat, if you can believe that. Thing is, he’s a sweetheart, so fair game. And I just know he’d make a powerful weapon against her.”

“Yeah.” Dare went thoughtful, but only for a moment. “You want me to keep him out of harm’s way? Hell, my girls would love it. They enjoy all things furry. Since I’m not on assignment right now, I’ll be around to make sure they get along.”

Relieved that Dare had offered, Trace let out a breath. “If you’re sure, I could drive Priss and her cat down there tomorrow. She needs a damned makeover anyway. Coburn ordered it.”

“Damn. That’s not sounding good.”

“No.” But Trace didn’t want to go into Murray’s motives yet. If he did, he’d want to go kill the bastard now instead of sticking with the plan. “Maybe you could arrange for a beautician or whatever to be there, to help cover the trip. If Priss returns with her hair changed, and her nails done up, no one would think anything of it. And Jackson could make sure we got out of town without being followed.”

“Yeah, I think we can manage that. I’m pretty sure Chris has a friend who’s a hairdresser.”

Amused, Trace shook his head. Dare’s wife, Molly, though very pretty, wasn’t into long hours spent at a salon. But Dare’s good friend and employee, Chris, had a variety of acquaintances ranging from football players to beauty queens—all of them guys. “Unless something comes up, I could have her down there late morning.”

“Plan to eat lunch here.”

“Thanks.” The mention of food made Trace wonder—

when was the last time Priss had eaten? Now that she’d slouched comfortably on the couch, her exhaustion showed. He frowned. “I’ll call when we’re on our way.”

After hanging up with Dare, Trace went to the blinds and peered out. The parking lot adjoined the bar on one side, a back street on the other. He didn’t like the layout, or the noise level, or the lack of security. Even the shittiest joint should have some safeguards in place.

This place had none.

“You made arrangements for Liger?”

He nodded. “It’ll just be until you’re in the clear, Priss. That’s all.”

“But we don’t know how long that might be.”

“No.” Trace rubbed his face. “Have you eaten?”

“Not since breakfast.”

And it was now well past dinnertime. “All right. Let’s get your things together.”

“How much should I gather?”

“Everything you might actually need. If I can help it, you won’t be spending any nights here.”

“Such a shame.” She looked around wistfully. “I was already settled.”

He wouldn’t debate it with her. She was moving, period. “We’ll get you checked into a hotel, but not the one you mentioned. I don’t want you any place where Murray knows to look for you.” He’d take her to the same hotel where he was staying, as close as he could keep her.

“Won’t that make him suspicious?”

“I’ll think of something.” He watched her rise from the couch. “After that we’ll grab some food.”

She hesitated. “And Liger?”

“He’ll stay with you for tonight. Then tomorrow we’ll take him to stay with my friend.” Trace watched her, and saw her gearing up for an argument, based on concern and fear. “Don’t look like that. Dare will be really good to him, I promise. He has two dogs who love other animals. Between them, they’ll make him feel right at home.”

Trace knew she didn’t want to. She had that look of stubborn machination coming over her; he could practically see the variety of alternate plans flitting through her thoughts.

He used stark reality to convince her. “Would you rather one of Murray’s henchmen find him? Trust me on this, Priss, they’re more than capable of using the cat to hurt you. It would be … ugly.”

Given the look on her face, she knew exactly what he meant.

Her shuddering breath and trembling lips left fear in his soul. Do not cry. Please. Priss had a body like sin, and the disposition of a hedgehog, but seeing her love for that big fat cat … well, it struck something tender deep inside him.

Very softly, Trace said, “You okay?”

Regaining her self-confidence, she firmed her lips and nodded. “Thank you for thinking of it.” And then in a less intense voice, “I’d die if anything happened to him.”

Which meant Trace would do every damn thing in his power to see that it never came to that. “This way he’ll be safe.” Now if only it was that easy to ensure Priss’s safety. “Let’s get going. We’ll have a long day tomorrow.”