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directions. You will not exceed the speed limit. You will not swerve off the road. You will not try to attract the attention of another driver. If you do, you’ll be sorry.”
    “Where are you taking me?” she asked.
    Fear was creeping back in again, now that she realized just how little chance there was for escape. She was well and truly alone with him, helpless against him. She might be able to run once they reached their destination, but unless she could outwit him, there was no way she could get away. He was bigger, stronger, faster than she. He had clearly been trained for things she would never be able to master. He could easily overpower her. If he wanted to.
    “How much gas do you have?” he asked.
    “I filled up on the way to work,” she told him reluctantly. And damn her for not being one of those people who could drive a car until it was down to fumes. She couldn’t let the tank get below half before she started worrying.
    “We shouldn’t have any problems then.”
    Oh, yeah, speak for yourself, why don’t you? Aloud, she only asked, “Where are you taking me?”
    He studied her in silence for a moment, as if he were trying to decide how much to tell her. “It’s one of the few places we have that you don’t know about,” he finally said. “And it’s not far from where we are right now.”
    He extended the keys toward her again, and Marnie reached for them gingerly. Although he allowed her to wrap her fingers around them this time, he still didn’t release them.
    “Now what?” she asked.
    “Buckle your seat belt,” he told her. “We wouldn’t want anything to happen to you, would we?”
    She managed to refrain from rolling her eyes but did as he said, reassuring herself that she wasn’t following his instructions this time because she would have buckled up anyway. Nyah, nyah, nyah. Only then did he relinquish her keys. He lowered the gun so it couldn’t be seen by other drivers, but pressed it against her thigh. She guessed that that was because, if she tried anything, he could shoot her in the leg, disabling her without killing her. That would prevent her from crashing the car, and make it possible for him to escape with his own life—if not hers.
    As she went to insert the key into the ignition, she realized her purse, a whimsical little Mary Frances number decorated with buttons and ribbons and lace in varying shades of blue—she’d spent way too much on it, even with her store discount, but she hadn’t been able to resist—was still swinging from her elbow. She turned and straightened her arm to let it slide down over her wrist, only to have her wrist seized by her companion, who gripped it with firm fingers.
    “Problem, Lila?” he asked as he jerked her hand back up between both their bodies.
    “I just wanted to put my purse in the backseat,” she said.
    He smiled grimly. “I’ll do it for you.”
    “Thank you,” she bit out.
    “But not before seeing what you have inside.”
    Of course.
    Still pressing the gun against her thigh, he released her wrist, and Marnie held her arm still as he guided the purse carefully over her hand. She winced as she watched him manhandle it, turning it over and over in his big brawny fist, having not a care for any of the intricate detailing. Watching him treat the ultrafeminine accessory so carelessly hammered home how little trouble he would have mistreating her, too.
    “How the hell do you open this thing?” he demanded.
    “That beaded flower on the side facing away from you has a snap beneath it,” she told him.
    He found the part she was talking about and unfastened it, but his big hand barely fit inside the little purse, so he turned it upside down and emptied the contents into his lap. One by one, he inspected each item before replacing it, starting with the tube of lipstick, then the tin of mints, then her hanky and so on. He was methodical and dispassionate in his task, even handled her emergency tampon with complete