“Good to know. How much gas does it have?”

“Three quarters of a tank.”

That was more than enough fuel. Riding the bike, she and Julian could be at his house in Nob Hill in twenty minutes or so, depending on traffic.

If it weren’t for the cloudless, sunny morning.

She looked up at the sky again. “How about twenty instead of thirty? You’ll still be making a good profit.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“What’s your PayPal address?”

When he told her, she used the phone to log on to her PayPal account and went through the steps to pay him. His email address was simple and no-nonsense — his first and last name. She said, “Done. Thank you, Keenan.”

He dropped the keys to the Harley into her lap and shook her hand. “It’s yours. I’ll sign the title over to you and messenger it to… Where do you want me to send it?”

“If you deliver it to Julian’s house in San Francisco, he’ll see that I get it.”

“Fair enough.” With a shrug, he stood and walked toward the other bikers.

Watching him walk away, she considered his laconic attitude and reluctant decency, and she thought she might be crushing on him just a little.

Two more men emerged from the tunnel, drawing her attention. Then Julian appeared in a catlike leap. He was every bit as filthy as she was and entirely healed, and he moved with an extraordinary, predatory grace. Aside from the sheer power of his physicality, he had a massive, forceful presence that made all the other men pale in comparison.

Watching him, she thought, so much for my little crush.

What she felt for Julian eclipsed everything else. Everything.

A pity her feelings couldn’t tell her what she should do about them.

As she watched, he looked around the scene warily. The area where she sat was still in deep shadow, so he approached to crouch at her side.

“I bought a bike,” she told him. Her voice was unsteady again. “And a helmet, and a jacket. But I didn’t think about gloves, and your neck would be exposed. I think we’re going to have to wait for a car after all, and there’s no way I’m going to leave you again, so we’re going to have to break into one of the buildings to either wait out the day or wait for a ride, because Julian, I cannot go back down into that hole or I will go insane.”

Midway through her speech, he gripped her arms.

“Melly, stop.” He pulled her against his chest, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, huddling against him. He pressed his lips to the top of her head and said into her hair, “You don’t have to try to fix everything, damn it. You can rely on me. I’ll handle this. And no, we’re not going to wait for a ride or for daylight to fade. We have too much to do.”

Too much to do. Hmm.

She’d been hoping for a croissant, and a cup of coffee with cream and sugar.

Resting her cheek against his pectoral, she nodded as if she knew what he was talking about. A part of her concentrated fiercely on soaking up the sensation of his closeness.

After a moment he eased away. He told her, “I’ll be right back.”

As he approached the other men, she took note of how they reacted to him. They had been so much more generous than she could have expected. They had fed Julian and brought him back to health, but when he neared, several of them also took a step back. They were rough men, all of them, ready and able to commit violence, but they all recognized the dominant predator in their midst.

After exchanging a few sentences, one of them handed a pair of black gloves over to him, while another shrugged out of a flannel shirt he had been wearing over a Metallica T-shirt. Julian shook their hands, pivoted and came back to her. Tearing the thick flannel material into strips, he wrapped it around his neck and donned the gloves.

She stood to shrug off the jacket and hand it to him. After slipping it on, he zipped it and turned the collar up. His gaze met hers. One corner of his mouth notched up. “It’s not elegant, but I’ve gone most of my life not being elegant. It’ll do.”

“As long as you’re sure.” She fussed over him, pulling the flannel material as high as she could under his chin.

“I’m sure.” He flattened a hand at the small of her back and pulled her forward to give her a hard kiss. “Do you know how to ride a Harley?”

She slapped the keys into the palm of his hand. “Nope, and this is not my morning to learn. Have at it, soldier.”

His smile widened. Taking her hand, he hoisted her to her feet. “Ready to go?”

“Almost. Hold on a sec.” It was her turn to walk over to the bikers. She met each man’s gaze. “Thank you so much for everything. I don’t know what we would have done without you.”

Several of them ducked their heads. For scary, rough-looking dudes, some of them were quite adorable. Keenan offered her a faint smile.

Leonard said, “You’re welcome. Go kick some ass.”

Julian had followed her. He told them, “That’s the plan.”

She asked the group, “I have one more question for you. Does anybody have a pen?”

After a moment of surprise, they dug into their pockets, until one of them offered a blue ballpoint pen. Crooking her finger at the guy who had asked for her autograph, she gestured for him to roll up his sleeve. Then she signed Melisande on his forearm.

Staring at the signature, he breathed, “I’m never going to wash my arm again.”

Leonard snorted. “That ain’t much of a stretch. You don’t wash much anyway.”

“Wait, I can’t sweat. I need a tattoo parlor, stat.”

“Come on,” Julian said. He led her to the bike, pausing just long enough to slip on the helmet. “It goes against all my instincts to wear this helmet while you don’t have one.”

She told him, “You’ll live, which is the point. And you won’t let us crash.”

The dark faceplate of the helmet was blank, yet she got the impression he was frowning at her. He mounted the bike while she slipped her new phone into her pocket and tucked the gun into her waistband.

“If I have anything to say about it, we sure as hell won’t crash. But I need you to be ready, just in case something happens. Is your gun loaded?”

She swung onto the bike behind him, and because this time it was Julian, she nestled close against his body, spooning him.

“I double-checked. It has a full clip. Why? You’re not expecting trouble, are you?” She tensed at the thought.

“I don’t know what to expect. Soon after Justine ran away, I heard the sound of a chopper nearby. It may have been unrelated, or she may have help, like we discussed.”

“I didn’t even notice,” she said. Working as she did in LA, the sound of traffic helicopters was so frequent, she tended to block out the sound.

“We’re not going to get complacent.” Starting the bike, he told her telepathically, Hold on tight. This is going to be a fast, rough ride.

She tightened her arms around his waist. Briefly he squeezed her hand, and they took off.

Julian wasn’t exaggerating. It was a wild ride. He drove aggressively, and on open stretches of road, their speed shot up until the world became a blur. Squinting, she peeked once over his shoulder at the speedometer, and saw they had hit over a hundred miles an hour.

The wind screamed in her ears, and it whipped her hair around. Tears streamed from her eyes so that she couldn’t see. She didn’t dare loosen her hold to wipe her face. Instead, she let go of everything — any worry that enemies might be tracking them, any fear at their high speed — and buried her face in Julian’s back, putting all her trust in him. After being confined in the dark for so long and living in serious fear for her life, the release she felt at their speed was exhilarating.

As aggressive as he was, he was still forced to slow when they reached the congested city streets near Nob Hill. A couple of times, he avoided coming to a standstill by driving up onto the sidewalks, scattering pedestrians.