Craze by Anne Conley Page A

she sank against Ryan, whose arms wrapped around her automatically. Against his chest, she focused on her breathing and nothing else. Again, her thoughts kept going to the past events of the last day, and she blocked them, instead concentrating on the fact she was still alive.
    When the elevator doors opened, Ryan kept his arms around her, leading her to a back door. He opened it slowly, checking carefully to make sure they weren’t being watched. Evan had driven the truck up to the door, and Ryan got her in the driver’s side, pushing her over to sit next to her.
    “Duck down, Sugar. Don’t want anybody to see us drive out of here if they’re still watching.” She obliged, scrunching herself into a ball and lying down on the big bench seat. Where before, she’d been nearly forced into his lap by the handcuff incident, she now willingly laid her head in his lap, inhaling his scent, equating it with safety.
    Evan was there, waiting for them to get in, and Ryan shut the door and rolled down the window.
    “Thanks, man.”
    “No problem. I found a piece of shit tracking device on your bumper, but I’m about to put it on that Beamer over there and let them guess. It won’t hold them off for long, though. They seem pretty determined. Your place is the best place for her.”
    Ryan dug around in his pocket, lifting Krista’s head briefly, and fished out her cell phone. She wondered how he’d gotten it, but didn’t really care much. She was in so far over her head.
    “This is her cell. See if you can find anything on it?”
    Evan nodded with a grin. “Looking forward to it.”
    Ryan rolled up his window and put the truck in gear, resting his hand on the wheel in an awkward position to keep from touching Krista. He probably didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, but she didn’t know how to tell him that his touch was comforting.
    “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Her voice wouldn’t work normally and she was so exhausted. All the adrenaline was gone, compounded by her exhaustion. She wasn’t sure she could string words together, but the need to apologize was too great.
    “For what?”
    “I thought you were going to hurt me. I’m sorry for running from you.”
    His hand stroked her shoulder, a gesture of infinite security for Krista. How could he know his touch made her feel so safe?
    “I’m sorry I didn’t make that clear. I’m going to keep you safe.”
    She didn’t say anything else. Instead, she rested her head on his thigh and felt his muscles work while he drove out of the city.

Ryan was at a loss as to what to do to comfort the woman in the truck with him. She’d been crying silent tears the entire drive, wetting his pant leg. He’d learned to deal with countless situations—pirates, refugees, civil unrest—but women’s tears weren’t among his list of things to fix. When they were on the outskirts of the city, he pulled into the parking lot of a super store while she sat up. He missed the warmth, wetness, and weight no longer on his thigh.
    “Um… You don’t have any clothes to wear. I mean, I’ve got a washing machine and everything, but my place is hardly the type of place for office attire.” He nodded at her clothes and she looked down at herself. Wondering what she saw, he noticed tight curves and smooth skin, all wrapped in fine clothing, albeit wrinkled, with his shirt on top of it all. He wanted the tears to stop tracking down her cheeks, though, and while he itched to wipe them away, he stopped himself. She was scared enough without him pawing all over her.
    It was as if she just heard him and she immediately pulled down the visor of his truck to look in the mirror. The dark hair he’d seen in a severe bun yesterday was down around her shoulders in messy waves right now. Her eyes widened at her appearance before darting back to him and then looking back at herself.
    She let out an adorable huff at something she saw in the mirror and started combing her fingers through her hair.