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still knew how. The silence had gone on too long, anyway.
    She’d just have to concentrate on ignoring him—as if anyone could. God, she could feel him next to her. She knew right where his muscled thighs rested on the seat, where his long fingers tapped restlessly on the door. She knew how his coat had opened over his abdomen, how the wind had ruffled his dark hair.
    If only he’d been the same as the other arrogant jerks who’d hired her. Or if he weren’t so damn handsome, and so accepting of her instructions.
    She drew a deep breath—and smelled his rich scent.
    How did he manage to smell so good? Moments ago her stomach had been jumpy over the thought of returning to a place that held only painful memories for her.
    Now her stomach jumped because sitting beside her was a man who didn’t fit any of the previous molds she understood. He was different, but in all the right ways.
    She’d done a lot of preparation for this mission. She had it planned down to the minute. In and out fast. No time for complications.
    But she hadn’t planned for Eli Connors. What a sexy complication.
    She had a feeling this was going to be the hardest mission of her life.

Chapter Two
    E li told her to turn at the next street, then leaned back in his seat to watch her. From the moment she’d stepped into the bar, not watching her had been impossible.
    Truth was, she fascinated him. And it wasn’t just her delicate looks, which were beyond deceiving, given the way she’d handled herself at the bar. She’d thrown a man, and flushed with the sheer pleasure of it. She’d made another into a choirboy, and grinned with delight.
    What a woman.
    But her staunch attitudes and constant blustering had revealed, at least to him, a lot of vulnerability, too.
    What type of female became a mercenary? What type of woman lived a life that made her feel so defensive? Despite her warnings, maybe because of them, he wanted to get to know her better. She was a link to his brother, reassurance at a time of uncertainty, and something about her appealed to him on the most basic level. Even though she kept telling him not to pry, she was more up front and open than anyone he’d ever met. She didn’t have an ounce of guile. No, Ms. Ray Jean Vereker called ’em as she saw ’em. And she’d insulted him several times.
    Not many women, from the slums of his past or the present boardroom, had ever done that.
    Trying for subtlety, hoping to provoke her into giving more away, Eli smiled toward her. “You think you’re pretty tough, don’t you?”
    Keeping her gaze on the road, she lifted one narrow, straight shoulder. “I’m tough enough when I need to be. That’s all you have to worry about.”
    He’d always been attracted to assertive women. Okay, so a mercenary was a bit over the top, but as he’d told her, she didn’t look hardened enough for the job. If she’d had a string of rattlesnake tattoos and a mustache and a figure like a tank, maybe, just maybe the persona would be more creditable.
    â€œYou’re a very attractive woman, Ray.” Her back stiffened in what he already thought of as her battle mode, and he had to bite back a laugh. “I’m not getting personal,” he assured her with grave sincerity, “just making an observation.”
    He watched her gather herself, saw her tucking away her real reactions to deliver what she considered a suitable response. Her laugh sounded rusty, as if it’d been a long time since she’d felt any real humor.
    What kind of life did a female mercenary lead when she wasn’t on the job? Did she live as a hermit, was she a bully, or did she somehow manage to fade into regular society? Was she engaged, even married?
    Without meaning to, Eli pictured all kind of awful scenarios until he shifted in his seat, disgusted with himself and his possessive thoughts.
    â€œIf someone had taken