Avenging Angel Read Online Free Page A

engine. The meaning of the unorthodox procedure wasn’t lost on her.
    “This isn’t your car,” she said.
    He made no comment.
    “Auto theft is a felony,” she warned him, and he laughed, a short, dry sound.
    The meaning of his laughter wasn’t lost on her either. Grand theft auto was the least of his problems. Committing felonies came naturally.
    How could she have met such a man? She wasn’t a trial lawyer. She’d never been in court with a criminal. The closest she’d ever come to associating with shady people had been when Austin had started traveling with his crowd of bodyguards.
    Her kidnapper steered the car onto the street, and she gave him a hesitant glance. His profile was shadowed, the bruise high on his cheekbone darker than the surrounding skin. They passed a street lamp, and its light cast a rim of luminosity on his forehead, nose, mouth, and chin. The light wove through the upended strands of his dark blond hair and caught the sheen of his eyes and the weariness therein.
    Watching him, she unconsciously shook her head. Her memory was wrong. Her intuition had gone haywire. She didn’t know Dylan Jones in any way. She took a deep, steadying breath and let it out. It was time to get some answers.
    “Who are you?” she asked, turning her head so she was looking straight at him.
    “Dylan Jones.” He flipped on the turn signal and eased the sedan around a corner.
    It was the answer she’d expected. Though she’d decided her earlier impression of familiarity had been wrong, a niggling doubt made her want to confirm her mistake.
    “I get the feeling I know you. Why?” She used her most confrontational tone of voice, letting him know there was nothing pleasant about the feeling.
    A muscle in his jaw tightened, and it took him a moment to answer, a moment in which she sensed he might not answer her at all.
    “We’ve met,” he finally said.
    The admission hit her hard, like a falling wall of bricks, though she didn’t believe him for a minute. She couldn’t possibly have ever met him.
    “Where?” she asked when she found her voice.
    This time his answer was a lot longer in coming and consisted entirely of that oh-so-familiar smile, at once wry and loaded with mystery, leveled at her from across the short stretch of seat separating them.
    He was lying, she decided. He had to be lying.
    “If you release me now, things will go a lot easier for you,” she said, forcing herself to use her calmest, most professional tone. It took effort to achieve, great effort, and got her exactly nothing.
    His smile curled, and he flicked her a desultory glance, silently confirming what she’d suspected. He wasn’t a fool. She was going to throw the book at him the instant the first opportunity arose, and he knew it.
    Dylan knew it, all right. He’d seen her in action. She would have him skinned and hung out to dry if he couldn’t convince her he had damn good reasons for what he’d done, and if Austin didn’t get to him first.
    His money was on Austin.
    He shifted his body behind the steering wheel, trying to find a comfortable position. It was impossible. Every square inch of him ached.
    “Stop the car,” she said suddenly, as if she hoped surprising him would garner her some cooperation.
    It didn’t.
    “I can’t do that,” he said, unfazed by her demand.
    “Why not, dammit?” She sounded near hysterics. “Why not just stop this damn car and let me go?”
    Dylan allowed himself a shallow sigh. “Because there’s a man back there with a gun.”
    “There’s a man in here with a gun,” she retorted, her voice sharp with frustration and frayed nerves.
    “Yeah. But this man isn’t quite as likely to use it on you as that man.”
    As reassurance, he knew it was damn little, but it was all he felt like offering. He didn’t want her to like him. He didn’t want her gratitude. He didn’t want her to remember.
    He’d broken his cover to save the lawyer Austin had decided was at the root of his