Miranda's Mate by Ann Gimpel Page B

sat phone.”
    “You’re getting ahead of yourself, Miss Miller. Once you’re fully vetted, The Company will get you a sat phone. Not before.”
    “Sorry.” Christ. I’m forever apologizing to that man. “Since I can’t use my phone, are my credit cards are off-limits as well?”
    “Good thinking,” Garen said. “I will see you’re adequately provisioned. I believe your Jayne Powers ID hasn’t been compromised—”
    “Perhaps not the name,” Lars interrupted, “but the ISL gang knows what she looks like now. I am certain they would have a way to access passport photos for arrivals and departures from the country.”
    “Hmph. Point taken. All right, the Powers ID is off the table. You can hand it over once we reach our destination. We’ll stop at a pharmacy. Get yourself some red hair dye. I’ll have Jorge make you up new ID docs and credit cards. Someone will deliver them in the next day or so. In the meantime, you can get by on cash. Anyway, the house should be fully stocked.”
    “Um, boss, it’s not easy to turn hair as dark as mine red unless I bleach it first. How about if I get one of those frost kits. I’ll make it really blonde in the front, and I’ll cut a bunch off.”
    “I can help with that,” Lars offered smoothly.
    “Just one more talent right along with flying and killing?” Miranda clapped a hand to her forehead. “Sorry. My mouth gets ahead of my brain sometimes.”
    Lars chuckled. “I have found it useful to disguise both myself and others, so yes, you could describe it as another talent.”
    She sank back against the leather seat of the Lincoln and finished her meal. She didn’t really want Lars to stay with her but couldn’t think of a diplomatic way to refuse him, particularly since she’d accepted his offer earlier.
    What do I want?
    The answer came back so fast her mind reeled. Garen. She wanted more of Garen. The tiny bit she’d had was nowhere near enough. The reality of his hands and mouth and cock was ever so much better than they’d been in her imagination. They’d torn at each other like animals and come almost before they’d gotten started. Not quite the romantic interlude she’d imagined all the times she’d brought herself off with him in her mind.
    Not romantic at all, her inner voice intruded. What happened in the Learjet was sex, pure and simple. I was already hot when he sat across from me. Men know things like that, and it takes less than nothing to get them going. If I were smart, I’d forget all about having fucked him and just move on.
    Problem was she didn’t want to do that. She’d do almost anything to have the hard, well-muscled planes of his body jammed up against her again. Miranda shook her head. Got to get hold of myself, or I’ll fall into his arms the next time he so much as looks at me.
    She refocused her mental energy. It was obvious she’d have to hang around the safe house at least long enough for her new ID to arrive. So much for burying herself in the woods and letting her wolf side take over for a while. Miranda swallowed. She did not like it when other people called the shots. It had been one of the worst aspects of the military. Lost in her thoughts, she was surprised when the car jolted to a stop. She glanced out the window. A shopping center. She started to get out of the car, but Garen swung around and grabbed her arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”
    “To get hair dye.”
    “I’ll do that. The store probably has cameras. You do not want to be caught on tape or film anywhere.” He shook her slightly. “I trained you better than that.”
    “No,” she muttered. “The U.S. Army did.” She dragged her legs inside the car. Garen shoved her door shut and took off at a trot for Rite Aid.
    She and Lars sat in silence for several minutes before he said, “It will not be as bad as you believe, fraulein. The days will pass quickly. I am certain we shall find ways to—”
    “That’s just it.” She dove into the