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seemed attuned to her every movement. He wanted to touch her. Trace the line of her jaw, gather her hair in his fist, hold her hand.
    She turned, catching him peeking at her. She jabbed a thumb at the back seat. “Shouldn’t we report this to the police?”
    “We will when I get you safely back to your place.”
    Her brow buckled. “How do you know where I live?”
    There was no reason not to tell her he supposed. “It was in the file Cal gave me.”
    “He gave you a file on me?” Her voice took on a cautious tone. “What’s in it?”
    “Just the basics.”
    “ What basics?”
    Something about the way she asked that last question sent up a flare for him. She was hiding something. And he was definitely going to find out what that something was. He told himself it was for her own good. The more he knew about her the more he could help her. Whatever she was hiding could be behind the threats she’d been getting or why she was being followed.
    “Your name, address, associates, and a brief history of what’s been happening,” he answered, sneaking another glance at her profile.
    “That’s all?”
    “Pretty much. Is there something I should know that wouldn’t be in the file?”
    She shook her head. He caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and realized he’d been holding his breath. He stole another glance at her. She was working that lip again, her head turned partially away. They were almost to her house. As soon as he got a moment, he was going to look into whatever it was she was keeping from him.
    “Do we need to stop anywhere on the way to your place?” he asked.
    “No. I don’t need anything.”
    “You have a sitter at home?”
    She whipped her head toward him so fast it made her seat move. “What?”
    “Look, I don’t mean to pry.” He did actually. He meant to pry into just about every part of her life. “But I noticed the baby stroller in the picture earlier, and I can’t miss the baby seat with the rock in it back there.”
    “There’s no sitter at home.” She reached over and turned up the volume of the radio. Some kind of my-wife-left-me-and-that’s-why-I-drink song came on, cutting off any further conversation.
    Lucas drummed his fingers in time with the tune, but his mind was breaking down everything she’d said. And hadn’t said. They turned the corner onto her street, but he drove past her house.
    Mi reached over and turned down the radio. “You missed my house.”
    “I wanted a look at it first before we pulled in.”
    “Why?”
    He hitched a shoulder, feeling surly about her not answering his questions. “Just being cautious.”
    He drove around the block, scanning the streets and sidewalks for anything unusual. They pulled into the driveway of a small house with no garage and faded trim. The lawn needed to be cut, but other than that it looked like every other house on the block. For a woman with such a high profile job, Mi seemed to choose surroundings that ensured she blended in—her car, her house, even her clothes. All were about as vanilla as they could be. To Lucas’s mind her efforts were wasted. She’d stand out in a crowd of look a-likes.
    As soon as Lucas stopped the car, Mi had her door open. She needed the privacy of her home, the comfort of her things. Being cooped up in such a small space with such a large, overwhelming man had her nerves on edge. Not to mention the rock through her window. She bit her lip, worrying about how she was going to come up with the money to cover the insurance deductible.
    “You’re going to chew a hole through it,” Lucas said as they reached the front door.
    “What?” Mi blinked up at him.
    His dark gaze dropped to her mouth, and the heat in his eyes struck an answering chord that radiated low in her belly. “Your lip.” He reached out, almost touching a fingertip to it. “You should give it a rest. You bit it all the way here.”
    “Oh.” She looked up, getting a good look at his face in the dying