Malicious Mischief (A Rylie Keyes Mystery) (Entangled Select) Read Online Free

Zach took me to the ground. Again .
    “Your skirt is on fire.” He rolled me once. Then twice, before he flipped me onto my stomach and patted down my backside, his hands firm but gentle as they stroked my bare legs.
    I groaned, wondering the likelihood of being turned-on and terrified at the same time. “Should I roll over?” I asked like a lovesick fool.
    His narrowed eyes met mine. “Rylie, we need to talk—damn!”
    He grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “The fire, it’s back!” His panic lashed out, frenzied. “Go to Solo. Stay with him.”
    “But—” It was all I said before his arms—strong and quick like a snake attacking prey—seized me about the waist. Air whooshed out of my mouth as he carried me to Solo. He dropped me there, where my ankle gave way, and I tumbled back.
    I righted, looked around. My knees weakened at seeing the flames whipping up, strengthening as it ignited the grass again. I started raving, wanting a fire extinguisher, unclear about whether one was in the van.
    “Rylie.” Zach’s irritation showed only briefly. “Stay here with Solo.”
    “But I can help,” Solo said.
    Zach grabbed him by his vest. “Do as you’re told. Keep her safe.”
    Solo didn’t struggle, he didn’t resist, but there came a tense moment while they stared at each other, when his face cemented at being roughhoused. Though he had Zach by a hundred pounds, he would not challenge him or fend him off. People assumed his massive bulk equaled violence. Not true. Not with tenderhearted Solo. He was more boy than man, more jester than warrior. As expected, his expression softened, and his dipped is head in agreement.
    Zach’s fingers flexed and released his vest, but the sudden guilt in his expression stayed. “I’m sorry,” he said and took off in a run.
    A blast of panic had me reaching for Zach. “Don’t go—”
    But he left me standing terrified next to Solo, my arms out.
    Gasoline. My mind noticed the smell, but not the source. The fire was guzzling a long line of grass and headed for the crashed vehicles. The flames looked to be thriving on a stream of leaked fuel from the Vespa.
    Zach was sprinting to the van, possibly for the extinguisher. He wasn’t going to make it in time. Fear for him sliced through me, a cry to retreat strangling in my throat. He took a moment to glance sideways, toward the fire. Veering—thank God, he was veering away.
    The Vespa exploded, sudden and deafening all at once, with flames and metal shooting skyward. Charred remains rained on the ground like black hail.
    Zach was on the move again, skirting the burning patches and yanking one of the van’s rear doors open, only he had used too much force. I saw it immediately when the door hit the chassis, whipped back, and whacked him in the back of the head. He bent at the waist, grabbing the fixed door for support, shaking his head, his knees buckling.
    I took off in a run, the fire swelling around me in a wide circle. As I drew near, Zach recovered enough to fish out the fire extinguisher from among the trash bags. He stumbled back, pulled the safety pin, and squeezed the handle. The force threw him to the ground.
    I tried to grab the extinguisher but he fought me off. “Get the hell out of here.”
    I tried again. This time I managed a better grip and yanked it free. Budding raindrops had me scanning the sky as I smothered the fire with dry foam. I barely took in the wet against my skin as the rain swelled to a downpour. Then out the corner of my eye, I saw something unbelievable: Zach shaking with laughter. I blinked, turned. His eyes were glued to my backside.
    My mind was already shrieking when I twisted for a glimpse. The fire had left my skirt a no-show over my ass, and the scarcity of my pink thong made it a shiny moonbeam.
    Arrgh.
    Zach climbed to his feet, shrugged off his jacket, and tied the sleeves around my waist.
    “Could this morning get any worse?” I asked, sighing.
    Bad