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Jonas watched the police car’s lights in the side mirror. Kate's driving stunt might not have thrown off their pursuers altogether, but it had at least gained them some distance. Their only issue now was how to keep it. He glanced at the tightly wound woman gripping the steering wheel.
He cleared his throat. "Talk to me," he said. Keep me in the loop.
She shook her head, her eyes darting to the rearview mirror. Jonas's heart sank. She had nothing to say. No ideas. And the flashing lights were slowly gaining.
Then, "The owner's manual," she said. "It should be in the glove box. Find out which fuse is for the headlights in this thing."
"Can't you just turn them off?"
She reached out and hit a switch. The lights illuminating the road in front of the vehicle remained on. She shrugged as she met his gaze. "Daytime running lights," she said. "They're required by law in Canada."
A safety feature that would, ironically, be the death of them both if they didn't disable it.
Jonas felt for the glove compartment release. It dropped open, its interior lit by a small bulb. The owner's manual sat front and center, on top of a plastic folder. Dave Jennings was an organized man. Jonas tugged the book free and slammed the compartment closed. He switched on the overhead dome, raising an eyebrow at Kate.
"Can I ask how you plan to see where you're going without headlights?"
"Moonlight and blind luck," she replied. "Unless, of course, you have any other ideas?"
The tension underlying her voice told him she thought the idea as bad as he did, but no, he had nothing else to offer. Driving blind through the dark it would be. He flipped to the index at the back of the manual.
In the side mirror, the cruiser behind continued to gain on them.
"Now is a good time," Kate said through clenched teeth. "This thing won't go any faster."
"Hang on," Jonas growled back. "Okay, I've found the schematic."
He studied the page for a moment, running a finger down the list of fuses at the side, matching them to their numbers on the diagram. Then he flipped back a page, searching for the fuse box location itself. His gaze locked onto another diagram. Flicked to Kate. Went back to the drawing.
They had to be joking.
"Damn it, Burke!" Panic laced Kate's voice.
He unclipped his seatbelt. "Fine, but just remember this was your idea," he muttered.
"What do you mean?"
"The panel's under the dash on your side."
Ignoring her mumbled, "Are you freaking kidding me?" he slid down in his seat and lay sideways across the console between them. His head came to rest on Kate's thigh. Their speed faltered for an instant. Then she pushed down on the accelerator again, a bunched tension replacing the softness beneath Jonas's cheek. He swallowed. Hard.
Hell. If impure thoughts hadn't already crossed his mind where Kate Dexter was concerned, that reaction would have made damned sure they did.
Clenching the owner's manual between his teeth, he fumbled for the fuse panel cover, located under the dashboard just above the accelerator. Kate's leg shifted under his cheek. He bit down harder on the book, fighting to hold onto the urgency of their situation. To ignore the body heat warming his stubbled jawline and the overwhelmingly female scent electrifying his senses.
God, even her kneecaps smelled delicious.
The panel cover parted from its catches without warning. Jonas grabbed for it but drew back when his hand connected instead with a fine-boned ankle. He extracted the manual from between his teeth.
"Sorry," he muttered. Kate said nothing. He peered at the myriad tiny fuses and the maze of wires sprouting from the panel. Great. In his present state he should figure out which one to pull by next Christmas. He held the manual at an angle to catch the light, searching for some kind of similarity—any similarity—between the diagram and the real thing.
Reaching through the wires, he tugged at one of the fuses. The heater fan died. Kate moved again, her firm, jeans-clad thigh rubbing against his head.
Jonas closed his eyes. Give me strength, he pleaded silently. And failing that, a really cold shower would be nice about now.
He opened his eyes and replaced the fuse. The SUV cornered sharply, and he flung out an arm to keep from sliding to the floor as his face mashed into supple denim. The vehicle straightened out again. He turned his nose and mouth away from Kate's leg, breathed, and reached for another fuse.
"That's the radio. The clock just went off," Kate said from above him.
"Thanks." Back in with that one. A third one out.
"That's it." Her voice was filled with relief. The SUV slowed as she adjusted her speed to navigate by moonlight alone.
Now the cruiser would really be gaining on them.
Jonas squinted at the book again, tracing a finger over the schematic and studying the accompanying list. He peered at the panel under the dash. He'd just removed the third from the bottom in the second row, and that had been—
"You can come up now, Burke," Kate snapped.
Funny how she called him Burke instead of Jonas whenever things got a little tense between them. He tipped his head back and shot her a grin.
"Actually, I can't. The headlights are on a different fuse from the taillights."
She stared straight ahead.
"And the brake lights are on another altogether."
Her lips compressed, but he was wise enough to swallow the chuckle that threatened. Antagonize her enough and she might slam on the brakes just to dump his butt on the floor, and they didn't have that kind of time to spare. He returned his attention to the manual, found the fuse he thought he needed, and yanked the real-life one from the panel. Then he pushed himself upright and glanced at the side mirror. No flashing lights for the moment, but he doubted they were far behind.
"Try the brakes," he ordered.
The vehicle lurched. Jonas saw no corresponding glow at the back of the vehicle.
"Got them," he said with satisfaction. Only the dome light remained to give them away. He switched it off and snapped his seatbelt back into place.
"Good,” said Kate. “Then hang on."
The four-by-four slewed violently to the right, fishtailed twice, then spun left and came to a shuddering halt at the rear of an unlit, deserted service station. They waited in silence, both twisted in their seats to stare through the back window down the highway. The flashing lights came into view around the corner on the county road they'd left, then disappeared on the other side of the abandoned service station. Jonas and Kate turned to the windshield. They waited some more.
The cruiser's lights speared through the trees on the other side of the building. Its speed was unchecked. Jonas expelled a long breath. They'd done it. They'd lost him. Kate had lost him. And Jonas didn't know whether to kiss her or tear a strip off her a mile wide for the stunt she'd pulled to get them here. He cleared his throat.
"Do me a favor?" he asked.
"What?" Her voice sounded as shaky as his guts felt in the aftermath of their run.
"That truck thing you did back there? Please don't get any more adventurous than that with me in the vehicle."
She looked at him. He looked at her. A tiny giggle escaped her. He reciprocated with a snort. Suddenly, the floodgates of tension thrown wide, they both roared with laughter. They sat in the dark, two cops wanted by the law on both sides of the border, running for their lives, and collapsed in waves of hilarity.
At last their laughter died away and Kate restarted the vehicle and put it in gear. “We’ll head closer to Cornwall,” she said. “There are a couple of motels on the outskirts. We’ll find one where we can hole up until morning. The local force won’t have a lot of cars on the road at this hour, so we should be okay.”
And just like that, their shared moment of amusement was done. With a sigh tinged with more regret than he’d admit to, Jonas settled back in his seat and returned to watching over the dark side mirror as Kate navigated through the countryside by moonlight.