"Are you okay?" Evalyne asked quietly from the driver's seat.
Jack glanced at her. The dawn light from the dash caught her profile in clean lines. Ponytail tight. Hands steady on the wheel. Her jacket collar was up, brushing the faint mark on her neck he did not let himself look at directly.
"Define okay," he said.
One corner of her mouth twitched. "Not bleeding," she said. "Conscious. Aware of your name."
"Oh, then yeah," he said. "Nailed it."
She huffed something that might have been a laugh. "If you pass out, warn me first," she said. "I do not want to drag your unconscious body through a hotel lobby."
"You sure?" he said. "Really adds to the billionaire mystique. 'What's she carrying? Oh, just my new... acquisition.'"
Her knuckles tightened briefly on the wheel. "You are not—"
