In the Enemy's Arms Read Online Free PDF Page B

grinned. “You mean when they shot at us?”
    “I mean when I saw you standing in the doorway.”
    He flagged down a cab and ushered her into the backseat the instant the vehicle came to a stop. After giving the cabbie the address, he tried to casually glance around to see if anyone might have noticed them. He’d guessed not, but then, he hadn’t exactly had experience with being followed.
    As they pulled away from the curb, Cate straightened. “What about your motorcycle?”
    “At the moment, I’d rather be in a car than on my bike.”
    “What about my suitcase?”
    “We’ll get it later. Don’t worry. Mario will take care of it.”
    “But—my stethoscope—”
    He rolled his eyes. “If anything happens to your precious stethoscope, I’ll replace it. Scout’s honor.”
    He wouldn’t have thought it possible for her face to get any scrunchier, but she managed. “You were never a Scout, and you have no honor. If anything happens to my stethoscope, I will hunt you down and kill you.”
    Grinning was the last thing he wanted to do after that low blow, but he managed the brashest, most arrogant one ever. “Gotta get away from me before you can track me down.” And that wasn’t happening anytime soon, thanks to the Wallace brothers.
    Bastards.
    * * *
    Despite her anxiety, Cate couldn’t help but appreciate the scenery they passed: beautiful buildings, though set amidst some tackier ones, lush greenery and the water—that incredible-shades-of-blue water. Under better circumstances, and with better company, she would have her nose pressed to the window. More likely, she would instruct the cabdriver to pull over, pay the fare and head straight to the water’s edge.
    She glanced at Justin peripherally and gave a mental shudder. Better company. Oh, yeah, right.
    The driver slowed and turned into a narrow driveway. Twenty feet in, he stopped at an elaborate wrought-iron gate, and Justin handed him a card to swipe.
    The drive led into a very private haven dotted with palm trees and other vegetation whose names she couldn’t guess. Bright waves of color competed against the too-pretty-to-be-real green of the grass, and the plantings hid any sign of neighboring houses.
    The house that was the center of such beauty was a surprise. She’d never given any thought to what type of home suited Justin, other than the antebellum plantation that had been in his family for centuries, but this bare-concrete, industrial-type building that reminded her of Cold War scenes in Russia never would have made the list. It was so stark, so…ugly.
    The cab stopped in front of a large black door, and Justin paid the driver before sliding out. “Come on,” he said when she didn’t move. “Welcome to La Casa Seavers.”
    Was he kidding? When he visited paradise, he lived in a squat, concrete bunker?
    The moment the door closed behind her, the cabdriver accelerated away. She watched until he was out of sight, then turned back as Justin opened the front door.
    Foolishness washed over her. Appearances were deceiving; hadn’t she learned that along with every other little kid in the world? Plain and ugly on the outside, maybe, but breathtaking inside. One glance was enough to show that.
    The floors were a mix of terra-cotta and aged wood, and the walls were painted in warm earth tones. The furniture looked comfortable, the art exquisite, and what she could see of the kitchen would make her friends who cooked swoon.
    “Not quite what you expected there for a minute, is it?”
    “It’s lovely,” she admitted. Then the bitchiness that seemed ever ready to pounce around him added, “Your decorator did a very nice job.”
    She wasn’t sure, but she thought he mouthed the appropriate insult before he turned toward the stairs. Abruptly, he turned back and stared into the living room.
    “What—”
    “Stay there.” He took the stairs two at a time, then disappeared down the hall.
    Okay, she was a coward. She stayed, edging a bit closer