“You won’t be flying anything like that Gulfstream without a copilot,” one of the guards snarled. “They may be looser about regulations in Europe, but the FAA—”

“I would not dream of it,” Lars cut in pointedly. He picked up his bags, along with hers, and motioned for her to follow him.

She got to her feet and opened her mouth, intent on figuring out what they were going to do, but he murmured, “Not now. You would be surprised which walls have ears.”

It was good advice. It also drove home how woefully ignorant she was of the spy trade. She’d been damned lucky to have gotten in and out that mess with Jaret. Sure and I almost didn’t escape, she reminded herself. Lars stopped at a bank kiosk, inserted a credit card, and it spit a stack of U.S. money into his hand. She rummaged in her purse and pulled out her wallet, meaning to get some funds of her own, but he took it from her hand and placed it back into her handbag.

What the hell? I can’t talk. I can’t use the money kiosk… Even though she respected Lars’ instincts, Tamara gritted her teeth together. Would she be reduced to little more than a helpless child before everything was said and done? To mask her annoyance, she picked a neutral topic as they stood in line at the car rental counter. “You were wonderfully competent after we lost that engine. You knew just what to do. It was as if things like that happen to you every day.”

“Thank Christ they do not. It is why I practice, though. Garen flies too. He and I simulate emergencies, and we work our way through them.” As if on cue, Lars’ phone jangled. He pulled it out, tapped the display, and said, “Ja?”

The conversation was short and one-sided; less than a minute passed before Lars disconnected and pocketed his phone. Tamara wanted to ask about it, and about why he hadn’t let her use her own credit card at the bank kiosk, but they’d finally moved to the head of the queue.

“How can I help you, sir?” The car rental representative smiled blandly. Though young, she appeared tired. Blonde hair hung untidily about her face and her uniform shirt had come untucked.

“We would like a one-way rental. Four wheel drive, please.”

“Very good, sir. Where will you be leaving our car?”

“Jackson Hole.”

Chapter Ten

Tamara kept her mouth shut until they were in a full-sized SUV, following directions from its dashboard navigation system. She peered at the map on the car’s navigational display and zoomed out so she could get some perspective. “It’s a long way,” she ventured. “Two hundred seventy-five miles. Let’s see, that would be just over four hundred kilometers.”

Lars reached across the console and grasped her hand. “We will be driving through some of the most beautiful country in the world, unfortunately it is growing dark. Our journey will not take long. Maybe five hours. We are meeting Garen tomorrow at noon at the Jackson Hole airport.”

“Sure and I wondered why we were going to a ski resort.”

“Depending on what you’d like to do, I had thought we could stop for the night in Riverton. That is just over a hundred sixty kilometers.” He glanced fondly at her, his strong-boned face illuminated by the dash lights. “That way, the most stunning part of our drive will occur in daylight.”

“And we’ll have a few hours to ourselves.” She squeezed his hand. The idea of spending the night with the man beside her thrilled her beyond words.

“Yes, if you wish it.” A formality sat beneath his words, as if he didn’t want her to think he was taking anything for granted. Disappointment pricked. She wanted him to…to what? Bleed enthusiasm? Somehow, she suspected it wasn’t his style.

She leaned back against the well-padded leather seat, inhaling its rich scent. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do,” she raised his hand to her lips, kissed the back of it, and took a chance, “or anyone I’d rather be with.”

Breath whistled from between his teeth. “You will have to be patient with me. I know little of wooing a woman.”

She snorted. “Not that I’m any great expert in the wooing department. I’m guessing we can help each other.”

He pulled into a well-lighted shopping center. “I like the sound of that. While it would be charming to talk of love and courtship, I fear we must discuss less pleasant things.” He paused for a beat. “Garen will have alternative identification for us. That will not help us tonight. Whoever is after us has probably figured out we are together.”

“Is that why you wouldn’t let me use the money changing machine?”

“Ja. It is bad enough I have been leaving a trail a mile wide, but I cannot help that. I had planned on flying from Nice back to Germany in a twin engine prop plane I left at the airport.”

Tamara considered the implications. “Is Lars your real name?”

“One of them. I fear it has lost its utility.”

“What would you like me to call you?”

He caressed her thigh. “Does it really matter? I am who I am regardless of labels.”

She thought about it. “So long as I can call you something and you’ll be answering, that’s probably good enough.” She glanced at brilliant neon signs. “Why did we stop here?”

“We need a few things. If we wait until we get to Riverton, all the stores will be closed.” Lars got out of the car, walked around to her side, and held her door open for her. He offered his hand and she took it, just before she wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his shoulder. He pulled her against him. The heat of him seared her, even through her clothes. He tilted his head and kissed her, lips barely brushing hers, before he stepped away and closed her car door. Once he’d hit the clicker to activate the door locks, he took her hand again and leaned close. “I would like nothing better than to hold you in my arms for hours, explore your body, but we are far from safe. Let us purchase a few items and then we shall put a bit of distance between us and Caspar, Wyoming.”

She matched her whisper to his. “Do, um, they know we’re here?”

He shrugged as they walked toward a high rounded arch blazoned with SPORTS AUTHORITY. “It is possible they do not, since our flight plan lists Boeing Field as our destination. After another hour, they will know we did not land there. If they are monitoring an aviation band transceiver, they already know what has happened.” He gestured for her to precede him into the store.

Before she went inside, Tamara turned and raked the semi-dark parking lot, hunting for anything suspicious, her anxiety back in spades. If Chen’s men knew where they were, they needed to get moving straightaway. “What are we buying?”

“Warmer clothing for you. Sleeping bags in case we have an unexplained engine failure on the mountain roads between here and our destination. Maybe a shotgun, but I doubt they will sell me one with my German passport and international driver’s license.” He made a grab for a cart and they worked their way through the store. Because she simply held clothing up to her and didn’t try anything on, they were at the checkout stand in less than half an hour. He’d been right about being unable to buy a shotgun.

She snugged a green, fluffy coat around herself as soon as the checker scanned its tag, grateful for its protection and followed it with a black knitted hat and leather gloves. Monte Carlo had been warm. The temperature here must be somewhere in the minus rating. Quite aside from the ambient temperature, she felt chilled to her core, certain a band of thugs would jump them at any moment. I’ve got to get hold of myself. Lars doesn’t seem scared.

“Thanks for the clothing. Sure and I wasn’t aware how ice-cold I was, probably because we spent all that time in the airport. How cold is it here?” she asked as they made their way back to their rental SUV.