Miranda's Mate Read Online Free Page B

drawing to a close.”
    What? Garen practically choked. “Oh?” He was surprised just how neutral his voice tone sounded. “And why would that be?” Stomach muscles tense, he waited for an answer that might destroy him. Had Lars taken up with Miranda? It was possible. Lars told him they’d spent the night together in his firm’s safe house. A vision of Miranda’s black hair mingling with Lars’ blond locks made Garen feel ill.
    “She is warming to me. I just know it. See you very soon, old friend.” Call ended flared across the display.
    Garen stared at his phone. He clenched his jaws together. I have to get control of myself before they show up, or I’m likely to rip Lars’ head off. Tires crunched on gravel. Garen turned toward the sound and saw a silver SUV heading toward him. Long years of caution took over. He strolled to the terminal, pushed the glass door open, and stood off to one side. Because it catered to military personnel flying incognito, this airport was outfitted with bulletproof glass.
    Lars’ unmistakable profile came into view. The figure slouched in the passenger seat had to be Miranda. Garen’s wolf was beside itself. He shoved it deep, pasted a small smile—not too exuberant—on his face, and went to meet them. Lars leaped out first. Garen extended a hand, but the other man swept him into a hug and kissed both cheeks. “It has been a long road. I am glad to see you.” Familiar gray eyes crinkled at the corners.
    Garen nodded to himself. He and Lars went back a long way. If his oldest friend had taken up with Miranda, he’d find a way to wish them every happiness. The other car door opened. He extricated himself from Lars and went to greet his employee. His eyes widened. “Holy shit, Miran—er, Jayne. You look like hell.”
    A corner of her mouth turned down. “Thanks, boss. I think.” She twisted around to drag her carry-on out of the SUV and groaned.
    “Are you injured?”
    Lars walked up to them. “She has deep contusions. I taped her torso. It is all a doctor would have done.”
    Years of undercover work took over. So Lars had not only seen Miranda unclothed, he’d even bandaged her. Garen wiped his face clean of expression; his chin tipped up. “Are you certain she’s fit to travel?”
    “I’m right here.” Miranda sounded irritated. “Of course I can travel. I just sat in a car for four hours.” She moved right in front of Garen so he had to look at her. “If you want to know how I am, ask me.”
    “Yes, ma’am.” He inclined his head and hoped to hell his emotions—jealousy, pride, and a touch of amusement—weren’t visible on his face.
    “You grow them feisty these days,” Lars noted wryly. “Do you have luggage?”
    “It’s already in the plane. I took the liberty of filing our flight plan.”
    Lars grinned. “Excellent. One less thing to do.” He grabbed his bag out of the car and made a sweeping motion with one arm. “After you.”
    Garen’s forehead creased. “What about the car?”
    “My instructions were to leave the keys in it. Someone will be round to pick it up.” Lars hooked an arm through Miranda’s.
    Garen bit down so hard he thought his teeth might crack. “Not what I meant. This isn’t Europe. You can’t just leave the car parked in the middle of the street.”
    “But it is not—”
    “Either you move it, or I will.” Garen crossed his arms across his chest.
    Lars rolled his eyes. “You are in a true snit, my friend. Once we are airborne, you must tell me what is wrong.” He ducked gracefully into the Lexus and manipulated it into a parking spot a few yards away.
    Like hell I will. What would I say? Miranda doesn’t belong to me. He glanced sideways at Miranda. She stared back. “Coming?” he said gruffly. “I can take your bag.”
    “I’ll take it myself,” she snapped. “Is that our plane?” She pointed. At his nod, she turned abruptly and headed for it.
    Feeling like a fool, he clumped after her. What he wanted