She could offer neither explanation nor excuse for herself. This was a man she had cause only to hate. A man whose name she did not even know. A man who was using her as the instrument of a vengeance she did not even comprehend. Why then, in spite of everything, had she fallen into his arms? For a moment, she’d even had the upper hand, but her own cowardice had let her down. Gemma shivered. She couldn’t have killed him, she thought, but she could have hurt him, incapacitated him sufficiently to allow her to make her getaway unmolested. Now she was back to square one, or worse. She thought her defiance had surprised him, but there would be no element of surprise in future. He would now be prepared—on the watch for anything she might do. But he had no idea that she could drive, she told herself, trying to rally her spirits. And her next plan had to be to find the keys of the jeep, even though the prospect of having to negotiate that mountain road in an unfamiliar vehicle frankly appalled her.
