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attention between Rudy and the car behind them.
    The traffic began to thin out as they reached an industrial park. The area was nearly deserted on Saturday, so Kyle made a sharp turn between two huge warehouses. They were nearing the end of the connecting alley when the SUV came into view again.
    For the next few minutes, they wove in and out of alleys, slowly increasing their lead. Then Rudy started to stir.
    "Stop in the middle of the next one," said Samantha.
    He did as she said, slowing the car enough for her to open the door and nudge Rudy onto the pavement. The big man fell with a thud and a grunt. She slammed the door, and Kyle floored the accelerator, peeling rubber, as she settled into the bucket seat.
    The plan went like clockwork. They were just pulling out of the alley as Damon was forced to stop for a groggy and stumbling Rudy. The few minutes it took their pursuers to get the extra man into the SUV gave them the time needed to disappear.
    Kyle shot out of the complex and turned onto the nearest residential street, and then another, tires squealing. Meeting minimal traffic, he sped up for another few streets, then made a third turn onto a deserted, tree-lined street.
    Pulling into the drive of a small ranch-style house, he quickly punched the code of a remote garage door opener. It slid upward, he drove inside, and the door closed to conceal them from the street.
    As soon as he'd switched off the ignition, he motioned toward the dusty, nondescript black pickup truck parked next to them in the two-car garage. Samantha grabbed her bags, and they jumped from the car.
    "Good plan, Jackson . I was afraid we'd have to elude Gregory's men in his Mercedes."
    "No. Too easy for him to track." He'd rented this place to store a getaway vehicle and a few of his personal things. Haroldson would probably track down his car if he had it bugged, but not until they were long gone.
    They climbed into the truck. He stripped off his dark shirt, leaving him in a white T-shirt. Then he reached for a baseball cap on the dash, tugged it over his head and hit the ignition.
    "Shouldn't we wait a while?"
    "Too risky. They've already called for backup, but they won't be looking for a truck with one occupant." He gave her a meaningful glance.
    "Got it," she said, sliding to the floor and crouching out of sight just as Kyle activated the overhead door. He backed the dusty truck from the garage.
    Heart racing and adrenaline pumping, he found it hard to control the urge to speed, but he wove back through several residential streets at a sedate pace. As he approached the intersection that led back to the main highway, he spotted the SUV, but it didn't follow as he made the turn.
    Within another two miles, they'd reached the freeway ramp leading south. As he paused at the yield sign, he spared a glance for his passenger, and then did a double take. She'd lost the long blond hair, apparently a wig, and now had short, spiky red hair. She'd also shed her blouse for a white knit top and ditched the jewels along with the pampered princess look.
    The new look suited her new role.
    Their gazes met, and something dangerously sexy arced between them. His muscles clenched as the unwelcome heat curled through his bloodstream. Undercover girl became more fascinating with each layer she revealed.
    Her instant frown and the tightening of her jaw convinced him that she didn't appreciate the unexpected attraction.
    "Got another ball cap?" she asked, breaking the strained silence. "I'm getting a little cramped down here."
    He glanced in the rearview mirror again, then handed her a hat. After donning it, she slowly eased into the passenger seat and fastened her seat belt. Her tone was terse when she spoke.
    "Where are we headed?"
    "South for a while," he explained, easing into traffic. "Then we'll be turning north toward the safe house in
Virginia
."
    Samantha nodded.
    He thought she relaxed a little, but she kept a close watch on the traffic around and behind them