He really had to do something about this masochistic streak. It seemed the more she got mad at him, the more he wanted her. She was a beautiful woman, but never more than she was spitting fury at him like a pissed-off kitten.

He grinned as he opened the door and stepped out into the night. When he looked in the direction of where he’d parked the BMW, his jaw dropped.

It wasn’t there.

He glanced down the street to see the taillights of the car fading as it roared through the neighborhood.

He dug into his pocket and pulled out the keys. What the fuck? She’d hot-wired the car?

He closed his eyes and shook his head. Then he trudged back into the house to face the others.

“I need a ride back to the hotel,” he said before they could say anything to him.

Everyone looked up from the table, all wearing puzzled looks.

“Something wrong with the car?” Micah asked.

“Yeah,” Connor muttered. “She hot-wired it and took off.”

Julie burst out laughing. One by one the others followed suit until the entire room erupted in hoots.

“It was stupid,” Connor growled. “She has some crazy stalker leaving her creepy notes and she takes off alone. This is why I don’t want her at my meeting tomorrow. She’s high-strung and unreasonable. And she doesn’t have one ounce of self-preservation.”

Micah stood and reached down to help Angelina to her feet. “We’ll run you by. We were going to call it an early night anyway.”

Connor would have liked to have called it a night, but he had a feeling he was going to be up for a long time. When he got to the hotel, he and Lyric were going to have a come-to-Jesus meeting. And he was as hard as a rock just thinking about it.

CHAPTER 9

Despite the fact she’d just hot-wired a car and ditched her only “security,” Lyric wasn’t an idiot, no matter what Connor Malone might think. She had no desire to be kidnapped or murdered by some psycho. She liked her life, thank you very much, even if she gave new meaning to the word dysfunctional.

Amazing, the words you learned from therapy.

She kept her eyes peeled, particularly to her rearview mirror to make sure no one was tailing her. She also kept a sharp eye out for a cop. Because what moron would try anything if she had a cop escort her to her hotel?

She uttered a triumphant “Aha!” when she saw a patrol car parked at a gas station. She whipped in and parked directly in front of him, just in case he had any ideas about driving off before she could get her story across.

He didn’t look happy with her parking choice and before she could get out of her car, he was already out of his and walking her way, a frown on his face.

What was it with men and being so damn grumpy?

She got out of her car as he approached.

“Is there a problem, ma’am?”

“Yes. You see, I have this crazy person stalking me and I had to hot-wire my BMW because the guy who’s supposed to be my security was being a dick and he has the keys, but I don’t want to be driving around by myself or go back to my hotel room in case the crazy stalker is waiting to kidnap me or make me his sex slave or whatever it is that crazy stalkers do. So I’d really appreciate it if you could follow me back to my hotel.”

His brows drew together and she could swear he muttered “Why me?” under his breath. Then he sighed and started to reach for his radio. He had that look that suggested he thought she was the crazy one.

“How much have you had to drink tonight, ma’am?” he asked politely.

This time she frowned. “I don’t drink.”

“Have you taken any drugs I should know about?”

“I’m not a crackhead.”

“Who does the vehicle belong to?”

“It belongs to me! Oh wait—Well, it sort of belongs to me. I rented it because I flew here. I mean, I have one just like it but I didn’t want to drive it all the way from California when I’m just doing one show here.”

“Uh-huh.”

He nodded and raised the mic on his radio and proceeded to tell someone that he had a 10-96 and he was requesting backup.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Look, all I need is someone to follow me to the hotel. And well, I’d really appreciate it if you could walk me in but I could always have hotel security do that if you’re too busy.”

“I have a better idea. Why don’t you take a ride with me?”

She shrugged. “I’d rather not leave the BMW, but I suppose I could make Connor come get it tomorrow.”

“Who’s Connor?”

“He’s the guy who’s supposed to be protecting me but was being a dick so I ditched him.”

The cop gripped her elbow and herded her toward his squad car. “Turn around,” he directed. “This is for your protection as well as mine. You aren’t being arrested. I’m detaining you for further questioning.”

Before she realized what was going on, he had her handcuffed and was stuffing her into the backseat of his car. Damn, but the man was good.

But he’d handcuffed her! She stared at him in outrage. “What the hell did you cuff me for?”

He shut the door and then proceeded to talk on his radio. A few seconds later, he opened his door and slid into the driver’s seat.

Realization hit her. “You’re the crazy stalker, aren’t you? You’re not even a real cop. Have you been following me?”

He eyed her in the rearview mirror as he pulled away. “Lady, you came to me.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

Okay, so he wasn’t the crazy guy. Which meant he thought she was crazy. She flopped her head back against the seat and stared upward. Helpless laughter escaped. Oh well, at least she was safe!

While it irritated Connor to leave immediately because he didn’t want Lyric to think she had him on a leash, he was being paid to protect her, which meant he had to go chasing after her when she pulled a stupid stunt.

Hot-wiring a rental and taking off on her own qualified.

He leaned against the hood of Micah’s truck and waited impatiently as Angelina was fussed over by Faith and Julie. Micah walked out ahead of Angelina and stood beside Connor.

“You realize I’ve waited a long time for this,” Micah said casually.

Connor raised an eyebrow. “Do I even want to know what you’re talking about?”

Micah chuckled. “Being able to give you shit over a woman.”

Connor scowled. “You say that like this situation can be compared to yours or Nathan’s. Lyric is a job.”

“Uh-huh. She’s a beautiful woman.”

“And? That matters why?”

Micah shrugged. “Just an observation. She’s beautiful and brassy. A little unconventional.”

“A little?”

“I’d say she’s perfect for you,” Micah said with a shit-eating grin.

Connor held up his middle finger. “Just remember. I didn’t want this job. I thought it would be perfect for you, but Pop threw a fit because he said Angelina wouldn’t like it. Same for Nathan and Gray because their women wouldn’t be happy.” He snorted. “So I get stuck with a woman who drives me crazy so it doesn’t interfere with your love life.”

Micah’s grin broadened. “I appreciate that.”

Angelina hurried up. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to take so long. I know you have to go, Connor.”

Micah pulled her up against him and kissed the top of her head. “Yes, by all means. He’s chomping at the bit to get back, so let’s get on the road.”

“Fuck you,” Connor grumbled as he climbed into the extended cab.

It was a good bit out of the way for Micah to drive Connor to the downtown hotel, and Connor fumed the entire way. They were just a few blocks from the hotel when Connor’s cell phone rang.

He fished it out of his pocket and frowned when he looked at the number. It wasn’t in his contact list but the number was a local one.

“Connor Malone,” he said shortly.

“Mr. Malone, this is Sergeant Willis with the Houston Police Department. I believe you know a Lyric Jones?”