3

      POPPY STILL COULDN’T BELIEVE she’d let Jake into her car. Even if she drove nonstop like a bat out of hell, she’d sentenced herself to twenty-four hours in The Snake’s company in a small enclosed space. Had she been on drugs twenty minutes ago?

      She slid him a look. His eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses but he appeared to be staring out the windshield, his expression unreadable. He hadn’t shaved and his face was dark with stubble. He hadn’t said a word since they argued over who was driving the first leg and which route out of the city to take.

      He resented having to kiss her ass, but she didn’t regret making him do it. It was nice to have a bit of power for a change, even if it was only temporary.

      She focused on the road. If he wanted to play it strong and silent, that was fine with her. She’d had more than enough of his smart mouth over the past three weeks.

      “Do you mind if I turn the air-conditioning on?” he asked ten minutes later.

      It was an unseasonably warm day for September and she was starting to feel a little sticky herself.

      “Sure.”

      He fiddled with the controls. “Hmph.” He sat back in his seat. “It’s broken.”

      “It can’t be.”

      He turned his head toward her. She didn’t need to see his eyes to know he was giving her a look.

      “Feel free to check for yourself.”

      She did, flicking the switch on and off several times. He didn’t say a word as the seconds ticked by and no cool air emerged from the air vents.

      “Fine. It’s broken,” she said after a few minutes.

      “No shit.”

      She cracked the window on her side to let some fresh air into the car. He did the same on his side. The road noise was loud, the equivalent of being inside a wind tunnel.

       Great. Jake the Snake beside me, and a bloody hurricane roaring in my ear. This is going to be the road trip from hell.

      After half an hour she couldn’t stand the noise any longer. She shut her window. A short while later, so did Jake.

      The temperature in the car rose steadily as the sun moved across the sky. Jake shrugged out of his jacket and so did she. By the time they’d been on the road for two hours, her shirt was sticking to her and sweat was running down her rib cage.

      Poppy spotted a sign for a rest area and turned into it when it came up on their left.

      Jake stirred and she realized he’d been dozing behind his glasses and not simply staring out the windshield ignoring her.

      “You ready to swap?” he asked, pushing his sunglasses up onto his forehead and rubbing his eyes.

      “Nope,” she said. “I’m changing into something cooler.”

      She got out of the car and unlocked the trunk. Jake got out, too, stretching his arms high over his head and arching his back. His T-shirt rode up, treating her to a flash of flat belly, complete with a dark-haired happy trail that disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans. She frowned and looked away, concentrating on digging through her bag in search of her sports tank. When she found it, she gave him a pointed look.

      “Do you mind?”

      He stared at her.

      “What?”

      “A little privacy, please.” She spun her finger in the air to indicate she wanted him to turn his back.

      He snorted. “Lady, we’re on a state highway, in case you hadn’t noticed. Everyone who drives past is going to cop an eyeful unless you hunker down in the backseat.”

      “I don’t care about everyone else. I have to work with you.”

      She didn’t care if he thought she was prudish or stupid—she was not stripping down to her bra in front of him. She absolutely did not want him knowing what she looked like in her underwear. It was way too personal a piece of information for him to have about her. She wasn’t exactly sure how he could turn it to his advantage, but that was beside the point.

      He sighed heavily and turned his back.

      “If I see anything, I promise to poke an eye out,” he said.

      She unbuttoned her shirt and shrugged out of it. She checked he still had his back turned. He hadn’t moved. Her tank top got tangled in her haste to pull it over her head. She twisted it around the right way and tugged it on. She glanced at him again. This time his face was in quarter profile as he gazed over the acres of grassland running alongside the freeway.

      Had he sneaked a look? She stared at him suspiciously, but he didn’t so much as blink.

      “I’m ready,” she said.

      He turned and his gaze flicked down her body briefly before returning to her face. She was acutely aware that her tank top was small and tight and a far cry from the business shirts and jackets she’d been wearing to work to date.

      She slammed the trunk shut and moved to the driver’s side door. He met her there, his hand held out expectantly.

      “I’ll drive,” he said.

      “No, you won’t.”

      If he’d asked, maybe she would have considered it. But there was no way she was taking orders from him. They’d be serving ice cream in hell before that happened.

      “There’s no way you’re driving all the way to Melbourne,” he said.

      “I’m not an idiot. When I’m tired, I’ll let you know.”

      His stared at her, his blue eyes dark with frustration. Then he turned on his heel and returned to his side of the car.

      She waited till he had his seat belt on before pulling back onto the highway. Immediately he leaned across and turned the radio on. Static hissed and he fooled around with