Read To Trust a Stranger for Free Online Page A

guilty as hell. Her hand dropped back down into her lap. “Because if you did, it could be dangerous.” She blanched. Frowning, he spelled it out. “You could get hit by a car.” The light changed, and Mac went through the intersection, heading down toward the Battery, which in his estimation was the most likely place to discover an abandoned car. The air coming out of the vents now was cool, and Mac rolled the windows up with a touch of a button. She sucked in her breath.
    “Um, where are we going?” she asked, real polite. Her hands were in her lap now, clasped around the cell phone, and she was chewing on her lower lip. She looked sexy as hell doing that. Mac noticed, and wished he hadn't. Getting turned on by Sid's sex-kitten wife was no part of his plan. “You worried you're being kidnapped?” Realization dawned. There was amusement in his tone. She stopped chewing on her lip, thank God, and her eyes shot to his face.
    “Maybe. Am I?” He had to give her this: she was no shrinking violet. There was challenge in the question, and in the look she gave him. His estimation of Sid's wife scooted a notch higher, even though it meant awarding Sid points for good taste. “Nah. You're as safe with me as you would be with your own mama, I promise,” he said soothingly, and turned right, onto an even more run-down street than the one they had left. Drunks and whores and people looking for trouble roamed the sidewalks here, ducking into seedy bars, keeping to the shadows away from the streetlights. Like cockroaches, most of these folks did their scuttling at night. Unlike cockroaches, some of them could be deadly. Fortunately, Mac knew the score. “Look, Debbie, now that I've had time to think it over I think I'll just call the police.” She lifted her cell phone ostentatiously; her forefinger hovered over the keypad without touching the buttons. Debbie? For a moment Mac was at a loss. Then he remembered his new persona, and grinned. Debbie-his ex-wife's name, conjured up out of the blue when he'd glanced into the mirror in the ladies' room at the Pink Pussycat and noticed that, except for the height and shoulders, he kind of resembled her-definitely was not a normal-looking person. No wonder she was nervous. “I thought you didn't want your husband to know you're out.” She started chewing her lower lip again. Mac, noticing, forced himself to concentrate on scanning the street for her stolen car. The hand holding the cell phone wavered. “I don't.” Her voice was low. “But ... “
    “So how about if we see if we can't find your car?” She sucked in her breath, and her gaze flew to his face. “Do you think that's even remotely possible?” Mac felt a stab of compunction. Being married to Sid was obviously no picnic, and she was looking to him for help. But he was going to help her, he quieted his nascent knight-in-shining-armor, even if there was an ulterior motive to his assistance. At least, he was going to do what he could to get her car back for her. After that, he made no promises. He'd been gunning for Sid for too long to let a little thing like a flare of sympathy for his wife hold him back. “Maybe. Sounds like somebody put in an order for a Jaguar of the same make and model as yours. Either for parts, or somebody wants to acquire one on the cheap. I'm betting on parts, though.”
    “Somebody put in an order?” Her tone was disbelieving, but she dropped the cell phone back to her lap. He turned onto Bay Street and sped up to pass one of the horse drawn carriages that took tourists on sight-seeing rides at all hours of the day and night and were a menace to traffic all over the city. In the distance, the bay looked black as oil except for an occasional string of lights that signified a boat. A foghorn gave its lonely call. “Happens all the time, especially with a high-end car like yours.” Her thighs were pressed tightly together, he noticed, her long, slim, and shapely thighs that were bare