He didn’t second-guess his luck, and he didn’t give her a chance to change her mind. He jerked open the passenger door, jumped in, slammed the door shut, and gave a quick glance back behind him. Ponce and crew were just exiting the hotel.

Perfect. There were half a dozen Land Cruisers in the parking lot, and no reason to be noticing this one.

He turned to face her, and her moment of open-mouthed shock wore off the instant she realized who he was-not that recognizing him seemed to improve the situation. She did not look happy to see him.

Tough.

“Y-you-y-you…” She stopped cold and pressed her lips together, as if that could stop her trembling.

And the girl was trembling, one hand over her heart, the other clenching the steering wheel.

“Geezus, Dax,” she started in again. “You scared the hell out of me.”

Well, he was on familiar ground now-a beautiful, angry woman swearing at him.

“Hi,” he said, picking up the closest water bottle in the console cup holders. “This yours?”

She tightened her hand on the steering wheel and swallowed a hard breath before answering.

“Yes,” she said, still a little breathless, still obviously dealing with a pulse that must have red-lined at a hundred miles an hour.

“Good,” he said, unscrewing the lid on the bottle, looking her over a little more carefully-and then he grinned. “Practice will improve your draw.”

“No doubt.” She lowered her hand from her chest, where she’d been going for the pistol in her shoulder holster, not, as he’d first thought, simply holding her heart in her chest. Another split second of speed, and she could have gotten the drop on him.

“Put the car in park,” he said. “Sit back, relax.”

“Park?” She didn’t sound like she thought that was a very good idea. “I’m not… p-parking. I’m leaving.”

“Oh, no.” He reached over and held the wheel. “Not yet, sweetheart. Give it a minute, let the dust clear, then we’ll go.”

Her “you’re crazy” expression didn’t change, not an iota, but after a moment and a short, exasperated sigh, she put the car in park.

“Thank you,” he said.

Geezus. There was nothing like running in ninety-nine percent humidity at a hundred degrees to make a guy feel like somebody’s old beach towel-and she didn’t look much better, with tendrils of hair curling out from under her ball cap and clinging to her cheeks and brow, her pale skin flushed with the heat, even with the air-conditioning blasting away.

Glancing in the side rearview mirror, he lifted the edge of his shirt and used it to wipe off his face. The Brazilians were getting in the Range Rover.

“When Ponce and his guys pull out, we’ll switch places. I’ll take over the driving.”

He saw her look past him, through the passenger side window, toward the entrance where the Range Rover was parked. She would recognize it from the gallery. It was unmistakable with all its bristling antennas, like the guy was the second coming or something.

“Ponce.” The name fell from her lips, her face paling even more. She looked plenty scared, despite the pistol and her willingness to draw it, and he couldn’t blame her for that. People were dropping like flies on this deal. “D-did you…were you-you must have seen…have-”

He took a quick drink of water and lowered the bottle.

“Yeah, I did,” he said, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. “Were you hurt?”

She squeezed her eyes shut for a second and shook her head, like she was trying not to see whatever image had popped up-and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what that had been. Ruiz had been a mess.

“So how did it go down in there? Ruiz brings you the Sphinx. Ponce crashes the party, kills Ruiz, steals the Sphinx, and you…what? Magically get away?”

“N-no,” she said. “I was in the other room, taking a phone call. When I came out, Ruiz was dead, and… and the Sphinx was gone.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” And he was. Terminal ballistics were kind of a specialty of his, of any soldier’s, and they were never anything less than gruesome in action.

He handed her the water bottle, and after a second, she took it and took a swallow.

“Cripes,” she said softly, letting her gaze drop to her lap. After a long moment, her hand came up to cover her face, and for the space of a breath or two, she sat very still-except for the trembling she didn’t quite have under control. “I thought you were going back to the gallery. What are you doing here?”

“I got worried.”

“That I’d run off with the Sphinx and aced you out?” She looked up at him from over the top of her fingers.

“No, just about you…in general.” Honesty wasn’t always his strong suit, but she’d just gotten it. Funny how that wasn’t making her look any happier. He understood, though. The truth wasn’t making him any damn happier either.

“Where’s your car?” she said. “I’ll drop you off.”

“No.” That wasn’t the way it was going to work. “We’re going to tail Ponce, see where he ends up, then I’m going to stash you back at the Posada and go get the Sphinx.”

She made a short, dismissive sound that clearly said he was living in a dreamworld.

He didn’t think so, not on his worst day.

“You are not in charge here, Killian.”

And they were back to “Killian.”

“Yes, I am,” he said. “Ruiz was blasted to hell in your hotel room. That makes me in charge of everything and most especially of you, Ms. Toussi.”

He was good at being in charge, and if she would just let him do what he was good at, she could save herself a lot of problems.

But count on a woman not to be all that interested in the “problem-solving” business.

“I don’t know what you think you need the Memphis Sphinx for-money, personal glory, or-”

“No,” he said, cutting her off. “None of those.”

“Then what?”

To save the free world, he could have told her, if he could have figured out a way to say it without sounding delusional. That was the job he’d contracted for with Colonel Hanson this time, the same kind of job he always did for the man, the same kind he’d done when they’d both been in Special Forces. When Dax had realized what Erich Warner was putting on the block in exchange for an occult artifact, he’d known exactly where to go for backup, exactly where the information would do the most good.

“I have my reasons” was all he was able to offer, and that didn’t get him very far.

“Reasons?” One of her eyebrows lifted, and she gave him a considering look. “Right, well, you’ll have to get in line with your reasons…preferably behind me and my reasons.” She sounded pretty sure of herself for someone who looked frazzled right down to her synapses.

Yeah, she was scared, all right. She was sweating with being scared, but she wasn’t scared enough to get out of the game-and she should be. She should be begging him for his help. At the very least, she should be running hell-bent for leather for the airport. An art dealer picking up an ancient artifact for a buyer, even a wealthy, influential buyer like Senator Leonard, would not be sticking it out, no way, not after somebody had massacred their connection. She was up to something else, which meant she’d flat-out lied to him about what she was doing in Paraguay. He was impressed. He never told people his business either.

He shifted his attention back to the passenger side mirror. “Okay. They’re pulling out behind us.” He twisted around and looked out the rear window. “And… they’re…heading out of the lot. When I get out, you scoot over.”

“No,” she said, giving her head another shake.

No?

She was, he decided, a real piece of work. He had to admire her grit, but he wasn’t going to let it get her killed.

“We’re going after Ponce together now,” he said clearly. “Up until the hard part, and I’ll do that alone.”

“Just because we know each other, and have some mutual friends, doesn’t mean-”