Tempted by His Target by Jill Sorenson Page B

handguns…”
    “No,” he said, frowning. “But any good self-defense instructor knows how to use a variety of weapons.”
    Another reasonable explanation, she thought sourly. “I guess we’re lucky that other guy wasn’t as accurate as you.”
    “I wouldn’t be so sure.”
    “What do you mean? None of the bullets hit us.”
    “You’re assuming he was trying to hit us.”
    She kept her eyes on the road in front of her, mulling his words over. “You think those were warning shots?”
    He didn’t respond.
    “Why would they bother?” she persisted, glancing in the rearview mirror again.
    Brandon shrugged, looking straight at her. “Maybe they want more than blood.”

Chapter 6
    T he drive to Tehuantepec was grueling.
    Isabel hated sitting still for prolonged periods, especially if she was feeling stressed. Physical activity was her crutch, her comfort, her preferred method of dealing with tension. When she couldn’t move around, she felt edgy and claustrophobic. Although they’d taken turns behind the wheel, Brandon didn’t understand all of the road signs, so she couldn’t rest. Now he was stretched out in the backseat, asleep.
    She knew he had a head injury, and that he’d been up most of the night, but she was still annoyed with him for drifting off. What he’d said about La Familia wanting more than blood haunted her. She’d been sure that the man she’d stabbed in the alley had planned to kill her. Had she made a terrible mistake?
    Brandon’s presence bothered her even more than his words. He’d proven himself useful this morning—almost too useful. Any man in his right mind would be running the other direction after what they’d just experienced. Instead, he was sleeping like a baby, unperturbed. She glanced in the rearview mirror once again, contemplating his inelegant sprawl. One arm was bent behind his head, the other draped across his flat stomach. His T-shirt rode up, revealing a sexy whorl of hair around his navel.
    She returned her attention to the road, moistening her lips. If this was his idea of fun, he had a few screws loose. Maybe that knock to the head had done some serious damage. When he came to his senses, he would leave her high and dry.
    Near the outskirts of the city, she reached her breaking point. The afternoon sun shimmered on the horizon, playing tricks with her vision. They were running on fumes anyway. She pulled over next to a thick copse of trees by the side of the road.
    Brandon jerked awake. “What is it?”
    “We’re out of gas.”
    He groaned, straightening his clothing as he sat up. Actually, it was more like he was adjusting his male parts, or making sure they were in the right place. She pulled her gaze away, her cheeks growing hot.
    Removing a bottle of water from his pack, he took a long drink, studying their surroundings. “How far to…”
    “Tehuantepec,” she supplied. “A few miles.”
    “Let’s push the cab a little farther into the trees.”
    She nodded, gathering her belongings from the front seat while he got behind the cab. Opening her door, she stood beside it, ready to help.
    “Is it in neutral?” he asked.
    “Of course.”
    He shoved the back end and she cranked the wheel, guiding the cab toward the heavy underbrush. Together, they wedged the small vehicle into the foliage. By the time it was found, they’d be across the border.
    Brandon turned around and made good use of the trees while she found a more private spot to relieve herself. They reconvened by the side of the road, preparing to walk the rest of the way. It was blazing hot and muggy outside, typical weather for the area. As they approached the next road sign, Isabel’s tank top was damp with sweat.
    Tehuantepec 20 km.
    “That’s more than a few miles,” he said in an even tone.
    “The car was almost out of gas,” she shot back, irritated with him, and herself, and the entire situation.
    “Almost out, or out?”
    She narrowed her eyes, daring him to continue this