Page 27 of Hawk and the Cougar

Chapter Eight

Hawk’s eyes snapped open. Awareness danced across his nerves. He pushed onto an elbow and peered through the window at the road. Headlights cut across the night a mile up the road. This wasn’t the first time he’d had cause to thank his ancestors for the supernatural sense that now had the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. The way things were going tonight, it wouldn’t be the last. The vehicle disappeared around a bend in the foothills, but he had recognized the headlights as belonging to a large vehicle like the SUV that had rammed his Chevy the night before—not that he’d needed confirmation.

“Liz.” He gave her a hard shake while reaching for his boots.

“Hmm?”

“There’s a car coming. Get up,” he ordered.

She bolted upright, narrowly missing the car roof, and swiveled in the direction he stared, but the car was hidden from view amongst the hills. Hawk stuffed his foot into a boot.

Liz looked at him. “What time is it?” Then before he could answer, she asked, “Who would be coming down this road this time of night? Are there homes out here? I don’t recall seeing any when I drove out.”

“No.” He grabbed the second boot. “We’ve got to get out of here. They’ll be here in less than a minute.”

She scooted to the end of their makeshift bed and grabbed her boots. After he’d made love to her a second time, he’d insisted they dress. He’d hated not feeling her soft body against his, but the temperature was dropping, and there had been the possibility Reid’s men might come back. He hated being right.

Hawk crawled to the door and got out. He scanned the road. The car hadn’t come around the nearest bend yet, but they couldn’t be more than seconds away.

“Put on that jacket,” he ordered and grabbed the rifle and cooler.

“Would Reid’s men come back?” she asked.

“It’s an SUV,” he answered.

Hawk slung the rifle over his shoulder, then, cooler in hand, he slammed the door closed and grasped Liz’s hand. The SUV appeared around the last bend.

“Come on.” He started them at a run in the direction of the dig.

They neared the decline as the vehicle veered off the road a hundred feet away, headlights dead on them. Hawk pumped his legs faster and nearly flew down the hill. Relief swept through him when Liz kept pace. Headlights cut a path across the desert over their heads. Car doors slammed an instant later.

They reached the farthest cluster of pillars when a voice shouted, “Come on, Professor, you know we saw you.”

The Beanstalk.

Hawk pushed Liz behind him and peered around the pillar. Two figures stood on the rise. Jack and his sidekick, The Beanstalk.

“Come on, Professor,” The Beanstalk called. “We only want to talk.”

Hawk turned and grasped Liz’s shoulders. “You moved pretty damn fast. The hills are a hundred and fifty yards. Think you can amp it up a bit?”

She swallowed, but said in a strong voice, “Kick-boxing three days a week and Stairmaster four days a week.”

He grinned. “You’re in damn good shape. We’re going to make for the saddle.”

“You don’t want anything to happen to your lady friend, do you, Professor?”

Liz’s head snapped in the direction of The Beanstalk’s voice.

Hawk grasped her jaw and turned her face toward his. “You trust me?” She nodded affirmation and he said, “Good, then do as I say. We’re going to run for it, but if they start shooting, I’m going to cover you while you make for the hills.” She opened her mouth, but he cut her off. “If you get shot, there’s no way I can get you to a doctor.” He gave her a smile. “Don’t worry. I plan on us making it—together.”

She nodded and he released her.

“Professor, you’re scaring your lady friend,” The Beanstalk called.

Hawk’s heart hammered. The Beanstalk had started down the hill. “Grab that cooler and be ready to run,” he ordered Liz.

In one fluid motion, Hawk swung the rifle from his shoulder and aimed as he stepped from around the rock. Then he fired. Both men dropped with shouted curses and began rolling down the hill. Hawk whirled, grabbed Liz’s hand, and raced across the open desert.