Dangerous to Know by Nell Dixon

cleaned the cut on Jerome’s forehead with a piece of gauze.
    He winced and moved his head under her ministrations. “Yeah, well, I thought of that at about the same time as I wrestled the gun off him.”
    Gemma shook her head in despair and stuck a plaster over the cut. “Do you think he’ll come back?”
    â€œI doubt it. Gerald won’t risk anything that could be traced to him. I’m surprised he risked sending that kid up here.”
    She shivered. Her wet clothes were stuck to her back and the chill from the mist had seeped through to her bones. “You’re sure Gerald was behind it?” Even as she asked the question she knew it had to be him.
    â€œWho else?” Jerome stood up and encircled her in his arms. “You’d better get out of those wet clothes before you catch pneumonia.” His mouth closed on hers and heat spread through her body.
    â€œYou still need to work on those pick up lines,” she said as he broke the kiss.
    He chuckled as she eased out of his embrace and bolted for her tent, her lips still tingling from his kiss. Gemma zipped the canvas flaps shut with the sound of his amusement ringing in her ears.
    Her fingers trembled as she peeled off her sodden clothing and scrubbed her cold skin dry with a large towel from her backpack. She dressed in new clothes as quickly as her stiff fingers would allow, pulling on a warm fleecy tracksuit and dry socks.
    â€œKnock, knock.”
    Gemma unzipped the tent-flap to see Jerome, dressed in dry clothes and holding two steaming mugs.
    â€œI made some soup.”
    She bundled her wet things into a carrier bag as he eased his way inside her tent and handed her a mug. She cradled the soup and felt some warmth creep back into her hands.
    â€œWhat do we do now? Shouldn’t we call the police or something?” She sipped the chicken soup and felt the heat slide down her throat and into her stomach.
    â€œEven if we had some kind of reception for the mobile to contact them, which we don’t, that kid will be miles away by now.” Jerome stared into his mug and blew some of the steam from the rim.
    â€œIt just feels wrong to let him get away with it.”
    He shrugged. “We don’t have much choice.”
    Gemma chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. “You don’t think that maybe we should pack up and go home?”
    Jerome continued to gaze into his mug for a long moment before he answered her. “I doubt if Gerald will dare try anything else and besides, I have a job to do. If you want to leave, I’ll walk you to the car and you can go and get a room at a B&B down in the village.” He lifted his head and his ice-blue eyes fixed on her face. “I won’t blame you if you’d rather leave,” he added in a gentle voice.
    Gemma allowed herself a few seconds to think longingly of a proper bed with pillows and a bathroom with porcelain fittings. “No, that’s okay. I wanted a more exciting life. I guess I can’t complain now, although I would prefer not to be shot at.”
    He smiled at her and the last of the chill left her body. “That’s my girl.”
    Gemma blushed and wondered how it would feel if she really was his girl. Okay, so he seemed to enjoy flirting with her and kissing her. Heck, if the shotgun-happy kid hadn’t interrupted them she would have enjoyed more than just kissing. Her cheeks glowed hotter at the thought.
    On a deeper, more meaningful level, though, she didn’t know where she stood. Jerome had quite a reputation as a ladies’ man and although she was looking for excitement she didn’t want to be just another notch on his bedpost.
    â€œI hope this fog will go so we can go out and do some reconnoitering tonight.” He peered through the flap of the tent. It had grown darker already and the cloud seemed to have thickened still further around the campsite.
    â€œIt doesn’t look as if it’ll lift