She jabbed a fist hard at his shoulder. “You’ve got nerve, Hornblower. Feeding me all that garbage last night so I’d feel sorry for you, then trying to steal my car. What were you going to do, hot-wire it and leave me stranded? I’d have thought a hotshot pilot like you would be able to do it faster, and quieter.”
“I was just borrowing it,” he said, though he doubted the difference would matter to her. “I thought you’d be better off if I drove out to where I wrecked by myself.”
She’d trusted him, she thought, calling herself ten kinds of a fool. She’d felt sorry for him. She’d wanted to help him. Betrayal and fury had her clenching her fist until the key bit into her palm. She’d help him, all right.
“Well, you can stop thinking. Move over.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I said move over. You want to go to the wreck, I’ll take you to the wreck.”
“Libby—”
“Move over, Hornblower, or that hole in your head’s going to have company.”
“Fine.” Giving up, he eased himself over the gearshift and dropped into the passenger seat. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“To think I was feeling sorry for you.”
He watched, intrigued, as she pushed the key into a slot and turned. The engine roared to life. The radio blared, the windshield wipers swished, and the heater blasted.
“You really are a case,” she muttered, switching knobs.
Before he could comment, she popped the clutch, rammed down on the gas and sent them speeding onto the narrow dirt road.
“Libby.” He cleared his throat, then pitched his voice above the noise of the engine. “I was doing what I thought was best for you. I didn’t want to involve you any more than I already have.”
“That’s swell.” She yanked the gearshift back and sent stones flying. “Just who do you work for, Hornblower?”
“I’m an independent.”
“Oh, I see.” Her mouth tightened into a grim line. “You sell to the highest bidder?”
The renewed anger in her tone puzzled him. “Sure. Doesn’t everyone?”
“Some people don’t put a price on their loyalty to their country.”
Cal pressed his fingers to his eyes. He hadn’t realized they were back to that. “Libby, I am not a spy. I don’t work for the CAI—”
“CIA.”
“Whatever. I’m a pilot, I run supplies, people, equipment. I deliver to spaceports, colonies, labs.”
“So you’re playing that tune again.” She gritted her teeth as she sent the Land Rover over a sloping bank and across a stream. Water gushed up the sides. “What are you claiming to be this time—an intergalactic truck driver?”
He lifted his hands, then let them fall. “Close enough.”
“I’m not buying it anymore, Cal. I don’t think you’re crazy. I don’t think you’re deluded. So cut it.”
“Cut what?” When she only hissed at him, he decided to try again, once more, calmly. “Libby, everything I told you is true.”
“Stop it.” If she hadn’t needed both hands on the wheel, she might have slapped him. “I wish I’d never seen you. You literally fall into my life and make me care about you, make me feel things I’ve never felt before, and all you do is lie.”