Between the Lines by Jayne Ann Krentz

to fire Roger and Ozzie for hassling guests. That would be the end of it. We don't have any proof that anything really nasty happened. It's conceivable, in fact, that Roger and Ozzie might complain that you pulled a gun on them for no reason."
    "I didn't pull a gun on them!"
    Gray showed a few more teeth in his smile. "Try telling them that after the cool act with the purse. I was pretty impressed myself."
    A fierce exhilaration flared in Amber. "I wasn't bad, was I?" She felt quite pleased with herself now that they were safely out of the reach of Ozzie, Roger and Vie Delaney. "Tell me exactly what was happening out there in the desert."
    Gray shrugged. "Delaney must have realized I was turning negative on the deal he was offering Symington and that my report would reflect it. He decided to try a bribe. He kept you occupied on the dance floor while he sent Roger and Ozzie, to, uh, talk some sense into me."
    "Do you think Delaney realized Roger and Ozzie would threaten you physically?" Amber asked.
    "I'm sure Delaney knows exactly how Roger and Ozzie work."
    "You don't sound particularly upset about this whole mess" Amber pointed out. "Does this sort of thing happen often on your business trips?"
    "I'm afraid they usually aren't this exciting." Gray flexed his hands on the wheel and cast a quick appraising glance up at the night sky. "Sort of puts you in mind of a Twitchell poem, doesn't it? Here we are fleeing for the border under a midnight sky with gunslingers on our heels."
    Amber jerked around in the seat to stare at the empty highway behind the Jeep. "I don't see anyone following us."
    "A figure of speech, my love. A poetic allusion, if you will. Use your imagination. Twitchell would have appreciated the scene, I think."
    Amber sank back into her seat with a groan. "If you're about to quote Twitchell to me, I've got a better suggestion."
    It was too late. Gray was already into the opening lines of "Midnight Ride."
    "The desert night was starry bright,
    But there was crimson blood on the ground.
    The gunman stood with a smoking iron
    And listened, listened for the telltale sound.
    Pursuit would come in a moment, in a moment all
    hell
    Would break loose.
    He must ride hard for the border or
    Risk the hangman's noose."
    Amber lifted an admonishing finger as Gray concluded the unmemorable lines. "Another reference to iron," she pointed out, not without a measure of satisfaction.
    "Is that all you can think about at a time like this?" Gray chided her. "Here we are reliving one of Twitchell's legends and you've got literary phallic symbols on the brain."
    "I think Ms Abercrombie may have inspired me," Amber muttered sotto voce.
    "What's that?"
    "Never mind. Are we going to stay at one of the airport hotels tonight?"
    "I think we will remove temptation from Roger and Ozzie's path," Gray said thoughtfully. "We'll buy a ticket to Phoenix and stay there for the night. In the morning we'll head on back to Bellevue."
    Amber's eyes widened. "You don't think Roger and Ozzie would actually try to track us down again tonight, do you?"
    "No, but I'd rather not take any chances."
    She couldn't argue with him on that score. Amber sat back in her seat as the Jeep raced along the lonely road back toward town. She was distinctly relieved when no headlights appeared behind them until after they were safely into the city.
    Gray left the Jeep in the airport parking lot, put the keys in an envelope, addressed it to the resort and dropped the packet into a mailbox. Then he escorted Amber on board the jet.
    The flight to Phoenix was a short hop, and Amber was still pulsing with excitement and nervous energy when they reached their destination. She couldn't seem to settle down, she realized. Gray, on the other hand, appeared totally relaxed after the adventure. She eyed him covertly, wondering why he wasn't more upset.
    After all, he was the one who had come so close to getting pummeled by Roger and Ozzie.
    Always assuming, of course, that Roger and