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Her face brightened. “You must be attending the Garza dinner tonight.”
Bridget stared at her. This woman acted as though Hugo Torino, in the guise of Reuben Garza, was a celebrity instead of a killer and gunrunner.
“That’s right,” Trace said.
“I have a tuxedo that will look great on you.” Her dark gaze traveled slowly over Trace’s muscular body. “Oh, yes. Absolutely perfect.”
Bridget frowned and slid her arm around Trace’s waist. She hoped he didn’t mind her publicly staking a claim. It was either that or get in the saleswoman’s face and cause a scene. Wouldn’t that raise a stir with Hugo and his merry band of thugs.
The other woman bared her teeth at Bridget in a semblance of a smile and led the way to the men’s area of the store. Within ten minutes, Trace’s tux was sheathed in plastic and hanging beside the register, socks and shoes already tucked away into a bag and sitting on the counter.
“Time to find something for you.” Trace tipped up Bridget’s face and kissed her. When he lifted his head, the saleswoman’s eyes were narrowed and her jaw clenched.
Too bad. Bridget didn’t share.
After several poor suggestions by the saleswoman, Bridget was happy to see a large group of women enter the shop, requiring the other woman’s attention. Keeping in mind the advice from Sam and Joe, she found what she was looking for in the proper size, a coup in this shop filled with brightly colored evening clothes for women. Another search and she scored a pair of comfortable low-heeled shoes with a strap over the top of her foot.
She returned to Trace’s side. “Ready.”
His eyebrows rose. “That was fast. I thought we would be here a while since the store employees are busy.”
“I did better on my own.”
Trace reached for the clothes and shoes. “I’ll take care of these.”
“I have money,” she whispered, although she had no idea if the wad of bills in her purse would be enough to cover the cost of the outfit.
“Goes with the role.”
Right. She was supposed to be a kept woman. Distaste filled her. Bridget hated for anyone to think she was only with Trace for his money or that he’d lower himself to keep company with a woman who could be bought.
Two minutes later, they walked from the shop and headed toward their SUV with the purchases in their hands. Tires from a nearby vehicle squealed.
Bridget glanced up to see a black SUV barreling through the parking lot, heading straight for her and Trace.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Trace took in the SUV and its trajectory in a split second, and shoved Bridget out of danger. He leaped to safety at the last second, the vehicle’s bumper skimming his thigh in a glancing blow. He hit the ground on a roll and ended in a crouch, weapon in his hand, purchases in a heap behind him.
He fired at the speeding SUV, the heavily tinted back window becoming a maze of cracks. Bullet-resistant glass. Trace scowled as the vehicle raced into traffic. Drivers of other cars and trucks slammed on their brakes to avoid hitting the SUV, honking their horns in a discordant symphony.
Holstering his weapon, Trace hurried to help Bridget to her feet as Nico and Jake sprinted into the parking lot. “Are you hurt?”
He scanned her from head to foot. No obvious injuries. Trace tucked her against his chest, his hold gentle. Her trembling was a knife in the gut, a sharp reminder that he’d failed to keep her safe. “Sweetheart, are you hurt?” Conscious of their growing audience that included Hugo’s men, he was careful not to use her real name.
“I’m all right. Just shaken up. Someone tried to kill us.”
He eased her closer. “I think someone resents Hugo hiring outside talent.” Trace brushed his lips over her ear. “Remember our audience includes Hugo’s men,” he whispered.
She shuddered and gave a small nod.
“Hey, you guys all right?” Jake asked. “I’m a paramedic.”
“We’re fine. Appreciate you checking on us.”
“The driver must have had too much to drink at lunch. Glad you aren’t hurt.” Jake lowered his voice, gaze locked on Trace. “I’ll check you at the hotel.”
Great. The medic had seen the love tap Trace received from the SUV.
