Dangerous Intentions

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Dangerous Intentions ISBN # 1-4199-0644-5 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Dangerous Intentions Copyright© 2006 Denise A. Agnew Edited by Sue-Ellen Gower. Cover art by Syneca. Electronic book Publication: May 2006

This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 443103502. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

Warning: The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. This story has been rated S-ensuous by a minimum of three independent reviewers. Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (Erotic), and X (X-treme). S-ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination. E-rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. In addition, some E-rated titles might contain fantasy material that some readers find objectionable, such as bondage, submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry; it is common, for instance, for an author to use words such as “fucking”, “cock”, “pussy”, and such within their work of literature. X-treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Unlike E-rated titles, stories designated with the letter X tend to contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.

DANGEROUS INTENTIONS Denise A. Agnew

Dedication As always, to Terry, my romance inspiration and my hero.

Acknowledgment To Bev Kay for information on what it can be like working at a soup kitchen.

Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: BMW: Bayerische Motoren Werke Aktiengesellschaft Glenmorangie: Macdonald & Muir Limited Jaguar: Jaguar Cars Limited Corporation M-16: Colt Defense LLC Mercedes: Daimler Chrysler AG Corporation Montblanc: Montblanc-Simplo GmbH Corporation Porsche: Dr. Ing. h. c. f. Porsche Aktiengesellschaft Corporation Range Rover: Rover Group Limited

Dangerous Intentions

Prologue The old man looked like a gnome. Scott imagined Reginald Casey Chapman with one of those ridiculous green hats and a costume that made him resemble one of the Seven Dwarfs. Dopey. Yeah. That was the one. Sitting behind a huge mahogany desk, the Chief Executive Officer of Chapman Enterprises could have looked like Yoda and it wouldn’t matter. The man possessed more money and power than almost anyone in the whole damn United States and then some. Lightning illuminated the room, and Scott glanced out the colossal penthouse office window. Towering thirty-five stories into the atmosphere, the office complex challenged the Denver skyline and nature itself. He shifted in his seat across the desk from Chapman and watched the weather outside. Thunderheads reared to the west, heralding another Rocky Mountain June storm. He wished he could be in the mountains when the rain came, smelling the ozone and the danger. Instead, the patriarch of a family of two gazed at him with anticipation. Expecting him to accomplish something he didn’t feel like doing now or any other time in the near future. Incredibly boring, but necessary. “I want you to stick to her like glue,” Chapman said, leaning on the green leather desk blotter in front of him. His voice didn’t match his diminutive stature. It rumbled in his chest with command. “No problem, Mr. Chapman.” “Call me Reggie.” Twitching up one snowy white brow, Chapman snatched a Montblanc fountain pen from the green leather pencil holder on his desk. “This should cover clothing, living expenses, and any other supplies you might need.” Scott glanced down at his own charcoal, double-breasted suit. “Something wrong with the way I’m dressed?” Chapman scribbled without pausing or looking up from his checkbook. “No, no. There may be other supplies, however, that you wish to obtain.” He finished his signature with a flourish and ripped the check from the book. Handing the advance to Scott, he plastered on a wide smile. “Consider it a down payment to secure your services.” Scott stared at the astronomical amount and felt a flicker of unease. “Taggert Security Team pays me—” Chapman waved one small hand. “Nonsense. I know quality when I see quality. Do you often underrate your talents?”

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“I know my limitations.” “Yet you believe you can carry off this job?” “Without a hitch.” “Then stop staring at that check like you’ve been clubbed over the head. There isn’t any amount of money I wouldn’t give to secure my niece’s safety.” Few men intimidated Scott, even multimillionaires with balls of steel. From the moment Scott walked into this office, he’d seen why this small man had expanded his business from a small sporting goods company over thirty years ago to a dominating force in the twenty-first century. He’d worked hard and long…and every line on his face showed it. Scott tossed the check back on the desk. Chapman sat back in his chair and formed his stubby fingers into a steeple shape. The chair held him like the maw of a huge predator, but Chapman was simply too big to swallow, and he knew it. Chapman grinned, his big smile exploding in his small, pale blue eyes. He chuckled and slapped the arm of his chair. “You’ll be perfect. Kiley is a bit on the stubborn side, and I say stubborn with a capital S. I’m afraid it’ll take a strong man to stand up to her.” Great. A spoiled rich girl. “It’s twice my fee. I can’t take the check. I don’t need extra inducement to do my job. I’ll keep your niece safe. I guarantee it.” Chapman picked up the check and glanced at it. “Sure you won’t need the funds—” “I can handle it.” Nodding, Chapman laughed again, this time a little harder. Rain began to beat on the windows. Scott felt the cloudburst deep in his heart. He hated city life and couldn’t wait until he could buy the cabin in the mountains and take a long, long sabbatical from the noise and reality of Denver. But right now he must perform a job, and that meant delaying his plans another month. At least until this man’s niece was safe. After that he could take six months, maybe more, and let the world fade away in the Colorado high country. He longed for the peace and quiet the wilderness brought to his soul. In solitude he’d found a salvation no human touch could ever supply. In nature he felt at one with a bigger picture. With people he remained on the outside looking into their small world, few gatherings gave him a sense of belonging. Fresh air. Silence. All except for the whisper of the breeze. Thunder boomed, breaking him from his wandering thoughts. Scott leaned forward in his chair. “Mrs. Taggert never explained how you know about the threat to your niece or how your niece isn’t aware of the situation.” Chapman didn’t move a muscle for an entire minute, other than blinking. “I suspect some trouble from an old business partner, Gregory Thorson. He is angry with me for something that happened a very long time ago. I turned him in twenty-eight years ago 6

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when I discovered he was using his division of my company as a front for smuggling drugs. He recently left prison and wants to settle the score. He called a week ago and promised he’d make me pay. He said he’d show me what it meant to lose what I love.” Chapman’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t smile. “That can only mean Kiley. As you know, there isn’t anyone else left in my family.” Scott nodded but said nothing. “Mrs. Taggert assured me you’re the best.” Chapman reached into his desk and brought out a photo album. He turned the book around and held it out. Scott took the red book, smelling the unmistakable scent of leather. “Go ahead, open it,” Chapman said. “I’ve got the last ten years of my niece’s life in that book. Take a good look and get to know her.” Flipping open the album, Scott came to an eight by ten color glossy. A glamour shot, no doubt. The woman in this photo smiled with the practiced poise of a model. Her black hair, parted down the middle, waved about her oval face and curled under at her shoulders. An interesting face. No. More than that. Her gray eyes sparkled, as if she might burst into laughter. A blend of subtle charcoals and purples contoured her eyes. Nice. Very nice. He wondered if her gaze unnerved most people. Full and curvaceous, her lips looked fantastic covered with brilliant red lipstick. Sexy. Next to her nose was a large mole, and he wondered why she hadn’t obtained plastic surgery to eliminate the imperfection. A lot of rich women would. Scott liked the character it gave Kiley’s otherwise flawless face. The headshot left her figure to his imagination. If her body matched her face, she’d be one hell of a woman. His groin stirred into fiery life as he scanned her picture and his libido devoured the picture like a starving man on a deserted island with no hope of a fuck any time soon. He tried to remember when his body had reacted to a mere picture of a woman’s face. Yeah, he enjoyed photographs of naked women as much as the next man, but this photograph drew cravings to the surface he hadn’t experienced this much in months. What did it matter? Kiley Chapman was a job. Nothing else. “Pretty,” he said, looking up at Chapman. “Pretty my ass, young man. She’s beautiful.” Scott’s lips started to curl in a smile, but he forced back the impulse. He thumbed through the album pages, watching years sail back—watching Kiley Chapman transform like someone caught in a time machine. When he reached the last photos at the back of the book, he saw a young woman of twenty with short-cropped hair lounging against the doorjamb of a log cabin. Her arms were crossed, her lips barely cocked in a smile. The photo didn’t show him how smooth her skin was, but it did display her willowy body encased in a tight multicolor knit top and figure hugging jeans. Her hair had a brilliant white stripe down the middle.

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Like a skunk. “That was the year,” Chapman said. Why can’t he just say what he means? Chapman stared at him expectantly, but Scott didn’t need explanations. Mrs. Taggert had supplied him with all the details of Kiley’s last ten years, including the six days where her life had been a living hell. He’d wondered more than once what kind of woman could survive being chained up in a dark dungeon without light for days on end. A fuckin’ strong woman. “She mustn’t find out what you are,” Chapman said as Scott closed the album. “If she does, you’ll never be able to keep her safe.” “I’ve got my cover set up.” Scott stood, his ass weary from sitting in the damn chair and eagerness to start the case pushing him along. “I’ll blend right in with the rest of the publicity hungry, egotistical son of a bitches who apply for her hero ad.” Chapman didn’t look convinced, so Scott went forward with his explanation. “Unlike a lot of the jerks who’ll apply, there isn’t much I put in my application that isn’t true.” Chapman sat forward, his eyes widening. “But that will blow your cover.” Scott shook his head. “I’m hiding in plain sight. The only things I can’t tell her are the special ops I’ve performed. Other than that, she’ll know everything else.” Chapman leaned on his blotter. “Don’t underestimate Kiley. She has a way of extracting things out of men. The last man I sent to her failed miserably. Damn fool fell in love with her. Messy business.” Scott did smile this time, even though it felt like his face might crack. “I’ve never been in love, Mr. Chapman. I don’t plan on starting now. And if a man with an M-16 can’t get the truth out of me, one woman sure as hell won’t.”

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Chapter One So maybe this isn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done. If she didn’t play this right, it might be the last thing Kiley ever did. The beast towering over her desk reminded her of a stereotypical motorcycle gang member. Or maybe a very bad nightmare from one of her difficult nights. The stench of liquor and sweat reached her nose in fewer seconds than it would take her to say “boo”. The man’s thinning dark hair looked as if someone had tried to style it with a chainsaw. It fell around his head in wild disarray. His getup included a black leather vest and a pair of mud-splattered jeans that barely stayed up around his beer belly. He scowled, and the long scar over his right cheek wrinkled into a stark reminder of whatever ill situation had befallen him. She caught the menace in his cold eyes and narrow lips just before he brought both fists down on the desk. Kiley jumped, her throat clogging with fear. “Mr. Meyers, I said in my advertisement the interview would be recorded and video—” He came around the right side of her desk with a growl, and Kiley did the only thing she could think of as her heart galloped with fright. She propelled her chair to the left, rolling across the room and hitting her credenza with a crash. He roared again, and the wild light in his pale eyes told her to escape now or forever hold her peace. He tripped and tottered forward. As she jumped out of the chair, Kiley shoved it toward him, striking Meyers in the knees as he fell. He hit the carpet with a grunt and a curse. She dashed for the door. The door flew open and crashed against the opposite wall. She gasped and took a step back as a battering ram rushed into the room. Susan, Kiley’s secretary, followed behind the new intruder, her face a picture of horrified surprise. Kiley had a second to register the battering ram’s size. Big. His expression. Fierce. Meyers groaned, and Kiley whirled around as he grabbed for her ankle. She yanked away and his nails scraped over her panty hose. Her momentum sent her straight into the battering ram’s arms. Susan squeaked and retreated from the room. The battering ram shoved Kiley behind him, and she could barely see over his broad shoulder. Perversely she noticed his long, dark blond hair tied back with a leather

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tie and hanging thick and wavy between his shoulder blades. Tension radiated from his body as he stood with feet slightly apart and his fists clinched at his sides. Meyers rose slowly, his face contorted with a mean smile. “Well, looky what we got here. A pretty boy. Get outta my way. I got business with this lady.” “Correction. Her business is my business. You’re not going to touch her,” the battering ram said, his voice rough, deep and uncompromising. Meyers made a low grunt. “I said, get outta my way. Or maybe you’d like me to break your neck first?” Kiley didn’t move, her heart banging in her chest and her throat tight. Sweat formed all over her body, and her palms felt sticky. Nausea assaulted her stomach, and she pressed her hand to her belly. God, I feel sick. She was afraid Meyers might hurt this mysterious man. That misconception changed seconds later when the battering ram reached for Meyers and hauled him up by the scruff of his neck. The battering ram twisted Meyers’s arm behind him. Meyers groaned in pain. “Hey! Police brutality, man!” “Shut up,” the battering ram said as he marched Meyers out of Kiley’s office and passed Susan’s desk. “I’m not the police.” Two security officers rushed in and took over the situation, handcuffing Meyers. As they hustled him out of the office, Susan slumped in her chair and put her hands to her face. Her kinky brown hair fell in a mess around her face, and her shoulders trembled for a moment. “You all right, Susan?” Kiley asked. Susan looked from Kiley to the battering ram. Her eyes wide and her lips tight, Susan appeared anything but okay. “I’m fine.” “Take a break,” Kiley said, concerned about Susan’s shaky appearance and pale face. “Put the phones on forward to reception.” Susan threw a dubious glance at the man. “But I shouldn’t leave you alone…” “I promise not to bite,” the man said, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Susan didn’t move a muscle. “It’s okay,” Kiley said. “Take a load off. Don’t come back for a good twenty minutes.” “Can I get you anything while I’m out?” Kiley smiled. “A nice, hot mocha would do the trick.” She looked at the big man next to her, curiosity throbbing in her veins along with remnants of adrenaline. “You?” He shook his head. Kiley said to Susan, “Thanks for thinking so quickly.” She shivered and wrapped her arms against her chest. “Who knows what that creep would have done.” Susan nodded at the battering ram. “A lot more if he hadn’t been here.”

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With that she was gone. For the first time Kiley took a definitive look at the man who’d come to her rescue. He exuded power. He wasn’t overbuilt. She could see he exercised to keep lean and mean. She smiled. It might be a cliché, but it remained true. Lean and mean. Right. That was an understatement. He was easily over six feet tall. Under the emerald green, long-sleeved shirt, his shoulders looked wide and his waist small. The black material of his jeans hugged his lean hips and strong legs as if specifically tailored for him. The rolled-up sleeves of the shirt revealed a dusting of darker hair on his forearms. His heavy blond brows drew attention to his green eyes, and his glower sent his finely carved lips downward. His larger than classical nose and implacable jaw looked solid as rock. The effect coalesced into a face with authority. Without a doubt he surpassed good-looking. Few men could look this rugged and manage to break the hunk scale. Sexual awareness jolted her unexpectedly, like a lightning strike from a clear sky. Her nipples tightened and pushed against her push-up bra. Tingling, heated warmth spread through her lower belly. She stood, stunned. Used to good-looking men in her social circles, she hadn’t felt attracted in this drop-dead, I-want-to-have-your-baby reaction in a decade, if ever. Despite the adrenaline-loaded atmosphere, or perhaps because of it, her body reacted with unadulterated, primal appreciation. God, he’s—face it—he’s gorgeous in a totally masculine way that makes no apologies and expects no excuses. To her surprise she suddenly felt lightheaded. “You okay?” he asked, his lips softening. “Um…yeah…I’m…” Before she could finish the sentence, the dizziness increased, and her vision went fuzzy. She clutched at Susan’s desk. Seconds later a pair of muscular arms went around her, steadying her. As his hard chest mashed her breasts, and his arms bracketed her along every muscled inch, she drew in a small gasp. She grasped his shoulders and dared look up into those eyes. Aquamarine maybe. Not green. No…the sea depths where green and blue coalesced into one amazing jewel. Okay, maybe I’ll just never breathe again. Her heart hammered, her breathing quickening. His stern expression melted slightly into a more heated assessment as his gaze searched her face. As his attention landed upon her mouth, his lips parted. He was holding her way too long, and yet something untamed inside her wanted the moment to continue for eternity. Every part of her seemed melded to him, caught in a sensual dance of feral recognition that went back to caveman days. Thrills darted through her, challenging everything professional and reasonable inside Kiley.

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Instinctively, like a woman raised in an environment based only on reaction, on primal needs, she arched into him. His arms tightened again. His breath hissed in and she felt the unmistakable ridge of long, hard cock pressed into her belly. Again a fluttering moved through her stomach and spread straight down to the folds between her legs with melting, breathless heat. Oh. Oh, my God. Then, as if he’d come to his senses, he drew in a deep breath. The man muttered a curse under his breath. “You’re not all right.” Worry crept into his tone and eased the sharp edges. He lifted her into his arms and headed for the couch back in Kiley’s office. “Did that bastard hurt you?” The heat and strength of his arms felt so good she didn’t want to leave them. He laid her down on the couch then knelt beside it. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Thanks, Mr…what did Susan call you?” He clasped her wrist in his big, warm right hand and took her pulse. “She didn’t. My name’s Danger. Scott Danger.” So this was the man whose profile read like an action adventure flick. She shook her head in disbelief. After she’d read his dossier last night she’d laughed. The guy had to be delusional if he thought she’d believe his resume. Yet she’d been curious enough to call and leave the message on his answering machine requesting that he come in at eleven that morning for an interview. Kiley was damn glad he’d arrived early for his appointment. Now she wasn’t plastered to his well-honed body, she could think more clearly. She’d reacted strongly to him because he’d rescued her. Female hormones often did what they wanted in the face of peril. His gaze didn’t waver. Instead his intense regard unnerved her as if he owned the soul of a wise, old lion that had hunted so long he could wait a considerable time before he nabbed his prey. “Your pulse is a little fast.” He retained his gentle grip on her wrist, and the heat of his skin seeped through her body. She shivered. “Cold?” Hell, no. She’d never felt warmer. Before she could reply, Susan came in without knocking. She juggled a tray with cookies and two paper coffee cups. When she saw Kiley on the couch, her brows speared together. “Are you all right, Kiley?” “I felt a little strange and decided to lie down.” “Should we take you to the doctor?” Susan asked. Kiley shook her head. “I’m fine, really.” Although she didn’t look convinced, Susan said, “I picked up two mochas.” She glanced at Mr. Danger. “I know you said you didn’t want any, but it was the least I could do to say thanks for helping us.”

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He nodded but didn’t smile. “Thank you.” Susan put the tray on Kiley’s desk. “I also remembered that we were going to eat this before Meyers decided to barge in and mess up the appointment schedule.” Kiley sighed. “Thanks, but I thought I told you to take a break?” “I’m taking a break in the coffee shop downstairs. I’ll also call all your appointments for the afternoon and reschedule.” Kiley smiled. “Thanks. How did you know I was going to suggest that?” Susan managed a weak grin. “I haven’t been your assistant for this long without learning a thing or two about how you think.” “Yikes. I don’t know if that’s good or not,” Kiley said. Still smiling, Susan left, closing the door behind her. Kiley sat up. “Whoa,” he said, pushing her gently back onto the couch. “Take it slow.” “I’m fine.” She felt out of control and hated every minute of it. “I don’t faint.” “What do you call what almost happened?” Wild reaction to sexual arousal? A fluke based on a dangerous situation? She sat up again, leaning against the arm of the couch. “A response to almost having the snot beat out of me.” Scott Danger didn’t smile or even twitch an eyebrow. He stood and reached for their mochas. As he walked, she glanced involuntarily at his crotch and saw the hard-on hadn’t left. Lord, he was still aroused? The thought startled her—made funny little butterflies dance around her stomach in purely feminine glee. Kiley, you are certifiable. So he has a hard-on? So what? Men are like that. Once he’d handed her a coffee, he retrieved a straight-backed chair and hauled it over next to the couch. He sank into it and took a long sip from his cup. “I hope you plan to press charges against that lunatic?” “Damn right, Mr. Danger.” She frowned. “I don’t mean to be rude, but that’s an awfully interesting last name. Odd even.” “Works for me.” “Is that your real name?” “My great grandfather changed the name from Danjureaux when he came from France to Ellis Island in the late 1800s.” Intriguing. The more Kiley knew about this man, the more she wanted to know. She couldn’t believe everything that had happened in less than an hour. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d been pampered. It felt good. And although Kiley wouldn’t call Mr. Danger’s demeanor welcoming, he looked less ferocious than he had when he’d hauled Meyers out of her life. She thought of the tangle her life had become

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in the last week and decided she didn’t need more excitement. Her uncle would have a cow when he learned of this escapade. He already fussed over her and had threatened to call a bodyguard service more than once. But she wouldn’t run her life like a princess under siege from pirates. “On second thought, I don’t need the publicity,” Kiley said. “What?” “I’m not pressing charges against Mr. Meyers. The newspapers will find out and smear me from one end of the tabloids to the other.” He shrugged. “Suit yourself, but he’ll be out of jail in no time and he might come back.” “I’ll take my chances.” Gazing at her as if she might be half crazy, he said, “You often take chances with your life?” “No. I’m incredibly cautious.” Once again he waited before speaking, as if considering every word before committing. He cocked his head to the side, his eyes calm and somewhat icy. She wanted the heat she’d witnessed in his eyes not long ago. “Could have fooled me.” Irritation welled in her, and she shifted on the couch. She almost said something sarcastic, but held back…just barely. Kiley took a sip of coffee and restrained the urge to tell him to go to hell. “Look, Mr. Danger, my life is public because of my family name and fortune. There are always hazards to contend with, but that doesn’t mean I hide. That’s no life at all.” He nodded, but said nothing. Danger kept her pinned with that penetrating gaze. She wondered if this man knew what kind of effect he had. Cool. Detached. Impersonal. Except for that moment. That take-your-breath-away moment when he’d held her close, then picked her up in his arms and deposited her on the couch. Under all that power she’d felt caring…almost tenderness. An amazing ability to bestow gentleness along with toe-curling passion. No. A character like him probably ate nails for breakfast and wrestled crocodiles for lunch, even if only in his dreams. “Then we might as well conduct part of this interview while I’m on this couch. At least I’m comfortable,” Kiley said. She thought she saw a flicker of amusement in his eyes before it snuffed out. Kiley cleared her throat. “You’re a security specialist for Taggert Security Team here in Denver assisting with security system installations. You’ve had numerous assignments in the last six years protecting high-level execs in the area. Including extra duty providing security for a visiting celebrity or two. You were an intelligence analyst for the Army. You have a high-school education and you were born in Montana. Your father is deceased and your mother lives in Illinois. That’s the long and the short of it.” 14

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His expression didn’t change. Like a great Greek or Roman statue with cool looks and icy chips for eyes, he gave away nothing. She’d expected a flicker of acknowledgment. Maybe he’d be impressed she knew all this without consulting his file. What exactly would get a rise out of this man? “Excellent memory,” he said. Instead of replying to his compliment, Kiley shifted on the couch. “So what do you really do, Mr. Danger?” “Sounds like you have a reporter’s instincts.” She shrugged. “I was a reporter for all of a month.” That caught his attention. He quirked one brow. “One month?” “I hated it.” “Yet you have a degree in journalism.” Alarm prickled up her spine as old memories of her college years returned. “How did you know that?” “Jim Halver’s article in the Denver Times on Empowerment Magazine’s debut five years ago. He gave a small blurb in the first issue about the staff.” She nodded, relief returning her sense of safety. Starting fresh had meant shoving aside painful memories of fear and loneliness. Throw in a little therapy on the side, and she had the perfect menu for success. Nothing had ruffled her in a long time. With the magazine running full speed for the last five years and sales going gangbusters, she had garnered success in a way she’d never experienced before. She’d empowered herself establishing a magazine for women, and now Kiley tried to enable other women. It had felt damn good up until a week ago when she received those phone calls. When she’d realized someone watched her, fear renewed like a seasonal allergy. “Well, you know how it is. Try out the real world and you don’t always like what you find,” she said, shrugging. “Seems like you need protection.” “What?” Surely she hadn’t heard him right. “A man who is cut out for the job.” She laughed. “I didn’t advertise for a bodyguard—” “A hero. That’s the same thing.” She hated being interrupted, but she disliked losing control just as much. Kiley took a deep breath and sat up straighter. “The ad asks for men who think they have the qualities of a hero. That doesn’t mean a certain occupation like a cop, fireman, or a bodyguard…though the man could be in one of those career fields. The man picked for our magazine profile will show qualities I think makes a hero. He’ll need to prove himself to me.”

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Danger shifted forward in his chair, his knees almost touching the cool leather cushions. He leaned his forearms on his thighs and laced his fingers together. “What have I got to do to prove it?” He gazed intently at her, the freezer-burn quality of his eyes melting into a steady heat. Oh. My. God. A tingle started in her stomach and spread downward. When he wanted to turn up the thermostat… She cleared her throat. “We’ve designed a lengthy questionnaire.” “They’ve designed it, or you’ve designed it?” “What difference does it make?” “If you put it together I’ve got a better idea of what I’m dealing with.” Damn him. He’d turned from a pseudo-hero to an irritant. “All the women on staff constructed the questions. I wanted a fair representation of what women look for in a hero.” “All three women.” He didn’t look convinced. “Very politically correct of you.” Kiley couldn’t tell if he intended his snippet as a joke, but even if he had, his words would have hacked her off anyway. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a pain in the ass, Mr. Danger?” “At least once a day.” He tilted one corner of his mouth in a quick, sardonic smile that disappeared as fast as it appeared. “Before we go any further, I can tell you one thing that’s not heroic about me. It may change your mind about considering me for the magazine.” She lifted her hands in exasperation. “Why would you want to tell me something to lose your chances of obtaining the spot?” “Because I deal honestly with people.” She sighed. “Fine. Whatever. Tell me your big secret.” “I’ve killed a man.” Silence enclosed the room with the finality of the tomb. Somewhere she’d heard you could read a person through their eyes. She’d perfected the art of interpreting body language a long time ago. But this man didn’t follow a pattern, so Kiley couldn’t ascertain his motivations. The way he sat forward with his hands clasped denoted sincerity, or an interest in making sure she believed him. The intensity in his eyes revealed little. Just like Barclay. Memories of that night ten years ago flashed through her like a neon sign. Darkness swept into her thoughts, a demon bent on terrorizing, and the recollection of a man’s demented intentions slammed her back to the past. Kiley thought of the damp, dirty, hole that existed in reality as much as it did in her mind. The place she’d stayed for days without end.

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She licked her lips. She couldn’t give in to unreasonable fear. For if she acknowledged her nightmares, they would haunt her day and night until she relented and fell into a morass of self-pity. A fine tremor went through Kiley’s frame. “Is this supposed to frighten me?” “Maybe.” Bastard. Maybe she should have looked away before he saw it in her eyes. “You should be frightened of me,” he said. “I’m not—” “I saw fear in your eyes. It’s natural if a man tells you he’s killed someone. You should be cautious.” Damn. Damn him for reading her like a billboard. “Who did you kill?” “I can’t tell you. Just take my word for it.” I could tell you but then I’d have to kill you. The old cliché. Anger turned her chilled skin hot, and suddenly every fear disappeared. She hated liars, and she’d been fibbed to many times in her life, especially by self-centered, conceited jerks. Swinging her feet off the couch, she forced him to move his legs. He straightened. “It’s my experience, Mr. Danger, that men who kill or have to kill don’t talk about it.” Her anger heightened. “Only wannabes talk about it.” He opened his hands in supplication. “I wouldn’t have told you if I didn’t think it wasn’t important.” She snorted. “Right.” When he didn’t get mad or rise to the bait, Kiley moved onward. “So killing means you’re not hero material?” “You’ll be the judge of that.” “You called us. You came here for the interview. So I’m guessing you’d like to be considered for the magazine article. Why would you want to hurt your chances by telling me something negative about yourself? Frankly, I think that’s stupid.” He hitched his ankle over his thigh and gazed through the window. The muscles in his thighs rippled against his jeans as he moved his legs. That irritating tingle darted through her belly again. Kiley took a deep breath. Now wasn’t the time to respond to animal magnetism. “I don’t think you know what a real hero is,” he said. She couldn’t prevent a sarcastic smile from parting her lips. “I’ll let you know when you fill out the questionnaire.” He returned his gaze to her. “I’ve got a much better idea. I stick close to you, and you can tell me if you think I’m what you’re looking for.” “Stick close to me?” She stood up, staring down at him with disbelief. “Is that what this is all about? A thrill? What’s the matter? Can’t get a date?” 17

Denise A. Agnew

Danger had the effrontery to look amused. A smile sparkled in his eyes and spread straight to his wide mouth. The effect was devastating. Spectacular. The man was sickeningly, indisputably gorgeous. Her belly did a flip-flop, a sweet tingle darted into her clit, and moisture dampened her panties. Holy shit on a stick. Unbelievable. She hated the reaction. Didn’t want it. Couldn’t get away from it. “Don’t worry, Miss Chapman.” His voice dropped to a husky rumble. “I’ve got a date every night this week.” Bright embers of arousal shifted all through her body. His gaze flicked to her breasts, and his lips parted. A flush heated first her neck, then shot up to her face. God, he’d seen her nipples stabbing at her bra. Her breasts felt heavy, wanting, needy. What would his big hands, so gentle when he’d held her, feel like cupping her breasts? In a flash her imagination supplied her with an image of his fingers lightly pinching her nipples. She almost gasped. She licked her lips and his attention shifted to her mouth. Seconds passed but it felt like eternity as his gaze stayed there, then dragged with slow deliberation back to her eyes. Within that eon, she was aware of her entire body. Her physical being didn’t care that Mr. Danger irritated her, that his arrogance affronted everything inside her. Shit. No man had controlled her since the night she’d fought her way out of that hellhole ten years ago. No man would control her again. Kiley walked to her desk, her legs unsteady. She jerked open her desk and snatched a questionnaire from the drawer. With all the determination she could muster, she strode across the room and shoved the papers toward him. “Here’s the questionnaire. Take it into the reception area and fill it out. When you’re done give it to Susan.” He took the papers slowly. When he stood, Danger towered over her again—it was hard to ignore his size. Without a word he turned, and without a word he left the room, closing the door behind him softly. For a battering ram he certainly made a quiet exit. Triumph pushed away Kiley’s earlier doubts. She’d faced intimidation and won again. But a tiny part of her wondered how much she really had prevailed, or if he possessed an arsenal far more effective and deadly waiting in the shadows.

*****

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Dangerous Intentions

“More Glenmorangie?” Gregory Thorson asked the huge man sitting next to him in the back of the black Mercedes limousine. The man smiled, but Thorson knew real amusement rarely entered the bruiser’s eyes. The man had been a killing machine for so long his ability to laugh or cry was supplanted by bouts of rage and lust for blood. A perfect instrument for Thorson’s plans. “Don’t mind if I do, Mr. Thorson,” the killing machine said, holding his glass out for another inch of scotch. Thorson hazarded a glance at the big man, knowing this executioner didn’t like anyone to stare him in the eye for too long. To the killing machine, a glance was almost as much a challenge as the attention of a predatory jungle animal. Thorson thought he’d worked with hit men of every type, but this guy cut the cake. Expensive too. But then, quality never came cheap. The limousine rolled into the downtown area of Denver. Soon they’d be at her office and the killing machine would learn the layout of the building. “When do you want me to make my move?” the big man asked. Thorson took his time answering, sipping his liquor with a languorous anticipation. He shifted his glass from his right hand to his left, and the ice clinked. “Not for at least another few days. We just want her scared at first.” “I don’t do scared, Mr. Thorson. I do dead.” Cold, brutal words didn’t surprise Thorson, but the hard gray eyes of the hired killer did. He’d never seen anything as glacial and removed. The tiniest prickle of caution trickled up his spine like a slithering insect. If she died too soon then what would be the point? No fun in that. No, Thorson needed to play the game. He needed the excitement and the sexual release messing with pretty Kiley Chapman would bring. “I know it’s not your usual avenue, but it’s what I want. I’ve paid for it.” The killing machine nodded. “Just so you realize it’s not what I usually do.” He shrugged. “Could get messy.” Thorson grunted then slugged back the rest of his drink. He licked his lips as the alcohol drove a supernova path to his stomach. “Think of it as a new skill you can market,” Thorson said. Thorson waited for the limousine to come to a crawl before he pushed the button to open his window. He stared at the office complex where she worked. “Here it is. I want you to make sure she has a few problems. Maybe even a few accidents,” Thorson said, his breath coming quicker as he thought of the fear and the horror that would overwhelm her before the killing machine made a final meal of her. “Let her know who is boss.”

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The killing machine shifted in the seat, and he, too, drank his liquor in one gulp. “This could be kinda fun.” Thorson chuckled. “Knock yourself out.”

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Chapter Two Scott headed to the weight machine in his recreation room before morning sunlight topped the horizon. He glanced out the window as he lay down on the bench to accomplish his morning workout. Heavy clouds built over the Rocky Mountains even at this early hour. Great. Today would fill with torrential rains and a woman who didn’t want protection. Lying back on the pads of the weight machine, he maneuvered his head and shoulders under the bar holding the disks. He clasped cool steel then made his move. He lifted the bar off the rack and pushed it upward, straining with effort as he forced the weights to do his bidding. He let out a grunt as his biceps and triceps quivered. He felt his stomach muscles clench and his thigh muscles stretch. Slowly he lowered the bar, gravity shoving his arms down. He pushed up again, centering his entire concentration into the effort. Each push he let out a grunt, the weight testing his limits. He’d added extra pounds to the bar as a disciplinary action. He’d slipped up yesterday with Kiley. He’d succumbed to thoughts about her that would land him in serious trouble. When he’d seen that asshole threatening her, Scott had almost lost it. Anger had flared inside so fiercely, he considered breaking the butt-wipe’s arm on the spot. How dare the scumbag hurt any woman, much less Kiley. With each shove of the bar, his mind drifted back to the way she’d looked in that curve-hugging white blouse and red skirt she’d worn. Despite seeing her pictures, he’d never expected the impact meeting her would have on him. Kiley. Shit, yes. When he’d held her in his arms yesterday and seen that flare of heat in her eyes, felt her breasts against his him, his cock had jumped to attention and gone rock hard in seconds. Years of discipline hadn’t prevented a wholly primitive reaction to her body. He’d wanted to kiss her, discover if her lips tasted as amazing as they looked. He’d wrestled with chaotic emotions even as his cock had stayed half hard through the entire interview. When he’d caught her glancing at his crotch a couple of times, it only made things worse. She probably thought he was a fucking pervert. Time for personal consequences. He hadn’t gotten through years in Special Forces by letting his mind wander into dangerous territory. Hell, who was he kidding? Kiley Chapman had grabbed him by the balls. He pushed the bar up again, muscles protesting the treatment. Scott groaned as he forced the bar into submission. Just like the rest of his life…almost all of his life…he’d make sure he didn’t lose control again.

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Denise A. Agnew

Sweat popped out on his forehead. Nope, when he went to her office today to learn if she’d hired him for the magazine article, he wouldn’t let Miss Chapman tie his groin in knots, no matter how sexy she looked or no matter what she said. The bar went up one last time, and another guttural sound tore from his throat. Well, Mrs. Taggert had told him that life around Kiley would be interesting. As the bar clanged back into the rack, he inched his way out from under and sat up slowly. He did forty-five minutes more of various exercises, then walked over to the treadmill for his five-mile daily run. Switching on the machine, he stepped into a rhythm he knew would bring a high. Nothing like a good workout to erase stress and remind him to keep his mind on the job and his hands off Kiley. He’d assured her uncle he’d keep the job strictly professional, but the minute Scott had seen Kiley go pale with shock like she might faint, a protective streak had knifed through him. When she’d shot him hateful glances and opened that pretty mouth and given him a tongue-ashing, he’d realized he would have to be damned careful. He couldn’t forget how she’d tilted her head back slightly with her nose in the air. Instead of putting his hormones in reverse, her independent attitude and guts fired his gonads like nothing he’d experienced. Not even Tina had made his blood run this hot. Tina. Well, that had been a damn long time ago. He hadn’t thought of that disaster in a long time. He didn’t plan to start now. He increased the speed on the treadmill and felt his heart pumping like the well-oiled machine he’d conditioned long ago. When Tina had broken their engagement ten years ago, he’d thought the hurt might never go away. For one day, anyway. He’d quickly discovered throwing himself into work had taken away the pain and replaced it with more determination. One thing about women…you could forget them if you worked hard enough. The Army had been his wife, and now the security agency was his mistress. Satisfied he’d worked out long enough, he slowed the machine to a walk and cooled down. Then Scott headed for the shower. He took to the road in his BMW 328i, turning on the wipers to beat back the rain already tumbling from the sky. On a good day with minimal traffic, it took forty-five minutes for him to reach Taggert Security Team’s downtown offices, but he didn’t mind the drive. He loved his car and loved the freedom of the road. Once he’d parked in the basement of the multistory office complex, he took the elevator up to Taggert Security. Mrs. Edith Taggert would expect a full report on yesterday’s events. “Hey, Danger, what are you doing here?” Scott smiled at the tall, redheaded administrative assistant as he entered the large reception area. Tammy Carter’s short hair shone under the fluorescent lamps overhead, her smile ear to ear on her small face. Her neon blue suit drew his attention.

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“You sure you don’t need to have a permit to wear that suit, Tammy? I mean, I could see the light bouncing off it before I even got to the building.” She gave him a killer smile. “Good thing I know you’re a nice guy under all that big, hard, hunky exterior.” She aimed her index finger at him. “In fact, I know there’s a marshmallow heart hidden behind that tough guy bravado. I don’t envy the woman who tries to get through it.” Scott grinned. “Who says men have all the good pick-up lines?” She threw a small mouse-shaped eraser at him and he caught it. “You wish.” He tossed the eraser back at Tammy and she caught it and pitched it into a drawer in her desk. “I thought you had full-time duty looking after Kiley Chapman?” “Haven’t gotten to that stage yet,” he said, coming closer to the high counter she sat behind. “She’s a little…difficult to work with. I’ve got to use some tact and strategy to work my way into her good graces.” Tammy laughed, and her green eyes sparkled. “Right. You? Tactful? I wish I’d been a fly on the wall.” He put a hand to his chest. “I’m wounded.” The truth was the truth. Sometimes he could be brutally honest, but he liked it that way. No chance for misunderstanding or bullcrap. Besides, he’d figured out who he was and what he was a long time ago. He didn’t change for anybody. She winked, and he winked back. He’d considered asking her out, but Tammy had made it clear she didn’t date bodyguards…especially not men at the agency. She probably attracted plenty of men outside work. Scott had noticed that bodyguard Kyle Hawthorne and Tammy seemed to have an attraction going, even if they couldn’t or wouldn’t admit it. “Mr. Danger.” The voice, low and husky, but definitely a woman’s voice, called to him from an office off to the side. “Quit fooling around with Tammy and get in here.” Heaving a sigh and winking at Tammy one last time, he headed toward Mrs. Taggert’s office. “If I don’t come back in an hour, send in the Marines.” Tammy’s laugh followed him down the hall. “Get yourself out of trouble, Special Forces Boy.” Good thing neither of them worried about political correctness. Mrs. Taggert sat behind her huge, dark wood desk like the queen of a small country. Lines of living ruled her face. She looked older than her sixty years, but he knew she’d packed a lot of life into every decade. Yet under those wrinkles he saw a beauty, strength and an inner peace that came from being true to herself. More than once he wished he had that tranquility. Maybe if he could take that six-month sabbatical…nah, he couldn’t think about that now. Job first. Play second. That’s the way it always had to be.

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Denise A. Agnew

As he strode toward her desk, Scott couldn’t help but note her office. The entire room was decorated with mementos from her world travels, accumulated from her younger days when she traversed the world with her now deceased husband. Today she wore an expensive-looking black suit on her petite frame. Her thick head of black hair was secured in a sensible bun, and the steel quality in Mrs. Taggert’s grey eyes portrayed that she took bullshit from no one. She’d bark at her employees if they got out of line, but she never snapped at customers and had a loyal following among her twenty security specialists. He respected her enormously. “Sit down, Danger.” He sat in the chair in front of her desk and relaxed. “Good morning to you too.” She sighed and leaned back in her chair. She picked up a sheet of paper in front of her and stared at it. “Sorry. I had to cut Martin loose this morning and it wasn’t easy.” “Martin? What the hell happened?” “He endangered the life of his client.” She tossed the sheet of paper back on her desk. “That means his workload will be spread around. How did your meeting with Kiley Chapman work out yesterday?” Scott explained about the crazy who had jumped Kiley, and about the discussion with her afterward. Leaning forward, she put her arms on her desk. “You’re absolutely sure the creep wasn’t one of Thorson’s men?” “Had him checked out on the computer last night. There’s no connection.” “Humph. Well, today convince her you need to be with her twenty-four hours a day as protection.” She muttered under her breath, and he thought he caught an unsavory word or two. “I don’t like the arrangement her uncle has with you. It’s ridiculous. Kiley’s a highly intelligent woman. She’ll discover what’s going on sooner or later.” “He insists it’s the only way it’ll work. Don’t worry, I can handle her.” Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t screw this one up. We’ll have enough fallout from Martin’s situation. Everyone’s going to have to straighten up and fly right to keep our reputation intact.” Nodding, Scott asked, “Have I ever failed you?” “No.” Mrs. Taggert’s gaze assessed him. “I’m not really worried about you. Martin has been a dubious choice since the beginning. I blame myself for hiring him. You, on the other hand, are a different animal. That’s the reason I put you on this case. If anyone can get into Kiley Chapman’s good graces, you can.” Her assurances gave him an added sense of security. Mrs. Taggert supported her employees as much as she could, and they knew she would be fair, no matter what occurred.

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She reached inside her desk, drew out an eight-by-ten photograph, and handed it to him. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I didn’t show you this earlier because it’s a much more complicated situation than I expected.” The old black and white photograph showed a significantly younger Mrs. Taggert standing next to her husband, and Reginald Chapman. Another man in the photo seemed familiar. When Scott looked up, puzzled, she reached for the photo and took it back. “You knew Chapman all those years ago?” Scott asked. “My husband had business and personal dealings with Chapman. My husband worked with Chapman Enterprises as a sales representative when Chapman was a small sporting goods company. This photo was taken just before my husband was murdered in seventy-two.” He could see the pain flicker through her eyes once then disappear. If he hadn’t known her for six years, he’d never have detected a change in her expression. “Reginald Chapman was one of my husband’s best friends. At that time my husband’s business prospects looked exceptionally good. Yet it was all snuffed out…taken by some bastard with a gun as my husband got out of his car at work.” “Who is the other man in the photo?” “Gregory Thorson. The man who wants to make life miserable for Reginald and Kiley, and the man I believe had my husband murdered. The creep has a long arm. He had people murdered even while he was still in prison. The police can’t prove it, but they know he committed the crimes.” Scott’s mouth fell open. He knew he probably looked like an idiot, but he hadn’t expected the plot to thicken so fast. The photo he’d seen of Thorson didn’t look much like the man in this picture. Age had ravaged Thorson until he appeared older than his sixty years. Much older. This photo showed a man full of vigor and good looks. When he didn’t speak she said, “Reggie loved my husband like a brother. My relationship with Reggie is a love-hate situation. He can be a good man at the core, but he can also be a royal bastard.” Scott shifted in his chair and smiled wryly. “I gathered that.” “Kiley is like my niece too. Maybe the daughter I never had.” “You’ve never mentioned her all this time—” “You know I keep my personal life entirely under wraps. It’s safer that way.” He nodded. “So this is personal.” “You got it. And that’s why I want Kiley to have the best protection she can get.” Anger tickled his spine like an irritating feather. Scott shoved it down and schooled his voice into a professional, cool tone. If Mrs. Taggert kept things from him initially, she must have had a good reason. Still, the situation warranted an explanation. “Why didn’t you tell me this before I went to her office yesterday?”

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She placed the photo back in her desk, shoving the drawer shut with a loud thunk. “I wanted to see how you’d react to her and her to you. If things didn’t go well, I’d have to decide on another agent.” His ego stung. She’d never voiced doubt about his abilities to his face before. Mrs. Taggert pushed her chair back and stood, walking over to a cabinet that concealed a well-stocked refrigerator. She pulled out a small bottle of sparkling water and offered it to him, but he politely refused. After opening the bottle, she took a swig. “Kiley’s had a rough time of it. Before she was kidnapped all those years ago, she was a strong, very independent young woman.” “She seems independent and strong now.” “She is. But after she endured the kidnapping a part of her couldn’t return to a carefree life anymore. She took self-defense classes and drew a wall around herself.” “Sounds like a smart woman. She’s looking out for herself.” “She can only do so much. You must get into her head to understand her motivations. She trusted the man who kidnapped her. Barclay Muldare was her boyfriend. He practically destroyed her.” “She doesn’t seem destroyed to me.” Mrs. Taggert walked back to her desk, then settled on a corner and swung one leg back and forth. “She’s very strong. It’s what motivated her to start Empowerment Magazine. She wanted to help other women.” That pain flickered in her face once again. “Her life was changed forever by that stinking piece of meat Thorson. She could never prove that he paid Barclay to kidnap her, and I could never prove Thorson hired the man who killed my husband. But Reginald knows Thorson did, and I know he did. We’d both do anything to keep him from harming Kiley.” “Are you sure Kiley isn’t your daughter? Seems like she’d make a chip off the old block.” Mrs. Taggert started, and he thought she paled under her careful application of makeup. She shook her head emphatically. “Kiley looks tough on the outside, but I know there’s vulnerability hidden inside. My entire filling is hard candy. No cherry center. No nougat.” He didn’t believe Mrs. Taggert was as tough as she portrayed. That was obvious in her concern about Kiley. But it wouldn’t help to tell her that. Weighty responsibility settled on his shoulders. His Army career had required him to be trustworthy to the maximum. Something about this case, however, made him edgy in a new way. Scott stayed silent so she continued. “Now that Thorson is out of jail for drug smuggling, he’s out to get revenge on Chapman first and probably me, second. He’s been rotting in prison twenty-eight years and he’s pissed.” “Why didn’t he try to get revenge on you and Chapman before now? If he’s been able to off all these people while in prison…”

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She nodded. “I understand what you’re thinking. But Chapman and I both have high security estates. Previously he dealt with people who were easy targets. Until now, that is. I’m not worried for me or Reggie. We’ve lived long lives and if one of us goes now, it won’t mean that much. But Kiley’s still young. She deserves more.” Mrs. Taggert paused, as if reflecting on his question. “I entered this business to give people access to the best damn protection money can buy. They pay for quality, and they get quality. You’re the best I have.” She’d never divided bodyguards into best and least best, so far as he knew…at least not until this moment. She slugged back more water. “Protect Kiley. Protect her for as long as it takes.” Scott stood. “Failure is not an option.” “That’s what Martin said.” “Martin was the first agent you sent to protect Kiley?” “Yes. I can trust you not to make the same mistake he did. It should have been apparent to me that Martin was too malleable.” Scott knew the answer. Mr. Chapman had told him, after all. But he asked the question anyway just to confirm. “What mistake did Martin make?” “He fell in love with her.”

***** Kiley pushed a damp piece of hair away from her forehead. When the hell would the air conditioning be fixed? A heat wave blanketed the city that afternoon with ninety-five degrees. She couldn’t take this swamp heat much longer. Where was the usual semiarid environment? She tapped on the keys of her computer, eager to enter new information about Scott Danger. Since yesterday the world had gone crazy, and she hadn’t opened his file again. His questionnaire didn’t reveal many aspects to his personality. That worried her. She must keep on top of this…must understand him. If he had any hidden agendas she must protect herself. “Hmmm,” she murmured, pulling Scott’s photograph up on the screen next to his bio. “A model, eh?” Kiley stared at the photo a long time, trying to reconcile this man with a modeling career. She couldn’t imagine it. Sure, his looks guaranteed plenty of double takes when he walked down the street. At thirty-six he was in prime physical shape. His height, his musculature, his entire body said something much more perilous than a catwalk ran in his blood. The photo showed a taller than average man with broad shoulders encased in a black tux, his arms hanging at his side, his legs firmly planted apart. His hair blew back from cruelly handsome features. His entire stance and attitude rippled with a barely leashed sexuality she’d never encountered in another man. Scott Danger made all other male models look like wimps. 27

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That was it. She saw a strange barbarous streak in his face, as if his civilized veneer slipped enough to show through the tuxedo. This man didn’t suffer fools. Maybe she’d imagined the gentleness she’d seen in his eyes when he’d picked her up in his arms yesterday. As Kiley scrolled down the page, she perused the second photo he’d given her. This picture showed a man in a quest for more danger. As he sat on the edge of a boat, body covered in a black diving suit, his grin showed a cocky amusement unlike the threatening stance in the tuxedo photograph. “Action man,” she said sarcastically. Danger. Thrills. The chase. She shivered. Just like Barclay. Kiley shoved away the ridiculous thought. He had wooed, won, took her virginity, and then trapped her in her own private prison. Not all men had betrayed her with a violence that carved deep cuts into her psyche. Caution boiled in her, reminding every cell in her body that although not all men qualified for the title of unmitigated creep, Scott Danger was an unknown entity. In this photo he managed to exude a warm, sweet passion within his eyes. She laughed. She must be nuts. Nothing yesterday indicated a sweet bone in his body. Shaking her head, she read the rest of his dossier once more. His stint in the military remained cloudy. His indication he’d killed before probably explained the lack of information in this area. Simple dates. No locations. No true military occupational specialty. Either he couldn’t write a resume worth a damn, or he really had been in some sort of covert operations. “Big shot,” she said as she read the resume. She noted he spoke French, Russian and Arabic. Not exactly an easy accomplishment, if it was true. A soft shiver ran through her body. When Kiley looked at his photos, she could admire the tough, ruthless façade that had gotten him through life. And it made her wonder what he’d experienced and what made him who he was today. The very idea of discovering the secrets behind his mysterious eyes made her prickle with arousal. She gasped as the tingling spread through her breasts and down into her stomach. “Good God,” she whispered. “Get a grip, Kiley.” The damn man had managed to turn her on without even being in the room. Kiley’s phone buzzed and she about jumped out of her pantyhose. She lifted the receiver. “Scott Danger is here,” Susan said. “Speak of the devil.” “What?”

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“Send him in.” As the door opened she took a deep breath. She couldn’t let him know how deeply he’d affected her yesterday. Besides, her off-the-wall attraction to him yesterday was a fluke, nothing more. As Scott stepped into the office she blinked. Nope. He was still too gorgeous. Today he wore a dark blue pinstripe suit, tailored to fit him, and without a doubt expensive. Hell, he’d look impressive in sackcloth. He’d even tied that wild hair back. She stood and gestured to the couch. “Have a seat. I’m glad you could make it, Mr. Danger.” “Scott.” So they’d play the same game over today? “It’s more professional to keep to formalities.” He sank onto the couch and settled into that casual pose he seemed to enjoy the most. His ankle hooked over his knee. He clasped his hands together in his lap. A casual pose for a man attired in pricey clothes. He radiated confidence, and instantly her defensive radar activated. “Why formality?” he asked. Kiley couldn’t answer that question without sounding prissy. Amazing how one syllable could stump her. Instead of answering immediately, she crossed her arms and remained standing. She at least had the upper hand in body language if she could tower over him. “We’re in a business relationship,” she said. “Maybe if you let me take you on a business lunch you’ll be more comfortable with me. We can discuss the questionnaire and whether you want me.” Want him? A tug of undeniable desire pulsed in her stomach and flooded her pussy with moisture. Damn. Damn. Damn. Her mouth dropped open. “What?” He smiled like a leopard that had consumed a tasty dinner. “Whether I qualify for your magazine spread.” “Oh.” A blush flooded her face like a burning torch. Anger added to the fire until she wanted to yell at him for making her respond in this ridiculous way. But Kiley was madder at herself. No one could make her respond in any way she didn’t wish to react. Scott’s grin faded into a small smile. “You’ve had time to look over my qualifications, my photos, and my questionnaire.” “Yes, and I’m not certain you make the grade.” She tried to spot anger in his face, but nothing materialized. “In what way do I fall short?” he asked quietly.

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She’d considered her reply to this question all morning, and now that he asked, Kiley had difficulty forming words. “You fall down in the romance department. The way you answered our questionnaire shows you’re not romantic and you have very little understanding of what it takes to woo a woman.” He didn’t even flinch. “Your questionnaire is faulty. You couldn’t detect a serial killer with the questions you asked.” Just when she thought this man had said everything that could possibly make her livid, Mr. Danger came up with a new one. “We consulted psychologists as well as polled women—” “And it came out sounding like the questionnaires in about every women’s magazine on the shelves. Let me ask you something. Has one of those quizzes ever improved your love life?” She almost said no but managed to catch herself in time. “My love life isn’t in question. We’re discussing your credentials for a hero. We’re talking about a very, very hefty chunk of money if you win that place with this magazine. I think that’s what you’re most interested in, Mr. Danger. Money.” He didn’t smile. Didn’t frown. “Money is important. It’s damn important. But if you give me half a chance, I can show you I’m what you need.” I’m what you need. No man could ever be what she needed. Barclay had shown her that. Her stomach wobbled and tipped. When Kiley didn’t answer, he said, “And I’d think, as the founder of this magazine, you’d want to find the right man. You’d want to publish something that continues your agenda of empowering women. You can’t do that if you don’t ask the right questions.” She made a scoffing noise. “And as a man you know better what a woman wants than a woman does herself?” He shrugged. “Sometimes. Sometimes not.” The tiny concession surprised her. “And this time is one of those times.” Scott nodded. “Exactly.” Kiley uncrossed her arms and let them fall to her sides. “I haven’t run into a man as conceited as you in a long time. So I’m just supposed to drop everything and take your word for it that you’re a hero? Sounds a little old-fashioned and chauvinistic to me.” “I think you’re the one being short-sighted and shallow, Kiley,” he said with a silky, soft tone. “How so?” “Because you’re relying on one questionnaire to understand a man. Would you like it if I told you that by looking at your straitlaced black suit and fierce expression that you were a total bitch, would you like that?”

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If Kiley hadn’t mastered control all her life, she would have gasped at his hardhitting, no-holds-barred statement. A muscle near her eye twitched. “Of course not. But we’re not talking about me or heroines. We’re talking about living, breathing, walking men. Everyday men. Not movie stars who play heroes. Real men.” Scott held his hands up in petition. “I’m the man you need. Yesterday I hauled your butt out of a sling when that jerk tried to attack you. What do you think would have happened if I hadn’t come in?” The way he said it, with implacable assurance, made her bristle. “I’ve had a lot of self-defense training. I would have thought of something. I don’t need you, Mr. Danger. I didn’t need you yesterday, I don’t need you now, and I’m not going to need you tomorrow.” He stood slowly, uncoiling that muscled frame with a sinuous grace that proved total physical discipline. In two steps Scott closed the gap until less than a foot separated them. Kiley knew he wanted to intimidate her, and a mixture of fear, anticipation, and agitation churned her insides. Scott casually stuffed his hands in his pockets and gave her a knee-buckling grin that measured somewhere around 8.5 on the Richter scale. His smile reached right into his eyes and warmed his entire face. Gone was the ice and wintry winds. A warm, melting sensation flooded her stomach. He inched closer. The man had no qualms with breaking personal boundaries. She refused to back away. He wouldn’t know he intimidated her—or sent her libido into a meltdown so hot she couldn’t think straight. Warm and flushed, she yearned for his touch. Just one small touch. His head tilted to the side, his gaze feral. She could see it in his eyes. He wanted to kiss her. Oh, yeah. He just might kiss her. Boiling emotions mixed until they created another wild reaction to his presence. Her nipples spiked into hard buds again, her breath quickening, her already wet pussy filled with a gnawing needy ache. “Give me this last chance. Come to dinner with me tonight and we’ll talk. I’ll prove to you that you need me,” he said, his voice soft and husky. He was too close. The heat of him reached out and cloaked her in a soft welcome that made her warning systems scream. “First it was lunch and now it’s dinner?” “If you aren’t convinced by the end of the evening that I’m totally sincere, I’ll never show my face in your office again.” Heat ran through her veins at the challenge. She hovered between telling him to stuff himself and jumping at the chance to do battle. She’d always enjoyed a good adventure. “You’re on,” she said.

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Chapter Three Old Joe jerked out of a deep sleep, sitting bolt upright in his cardboard box in the alley. He blinked rapidly, taking in his surroundings with the speed of a man who had once hidden in the jungles of Vietnam. He scanned the alley, hyperaware and ready to run. Nothing. No one crept up from behind since he had his back to the wall. The alley was empty. He’d overslept again. It seemed to him he felt more tired every day. Well, he supposed he was getting old. Sleeping on the streets did that to a man. He ran his rough hand over the dry skin of his face. Damn. Felt like sandpaper. Yep. Sleeping on the streets wrinkled his skin like leather, and furrowed his heart. A grin curved his lips. No use worrying about it. No one cared what he looked like anyway. As his gaze landed on the dirty pavement, pieces of multicolored construction paper fluttered along the ground as a cold breeze shuttled down the alley. The wind brought with it the smell of exhaust, mingled with rotting food, urine, and other unmentionable junk. He wrinkled his nose. People thought you should get used to smelling shit when you lived in shit. He never had. People thought he was nuts and that’s why he lived the way he did among the vermin that infested the darker corners of this world. They were wrong. No use explaining that to anyone, though. They wouldn’t stand within ten feet of him. Old Joe chuckled. Maybe he should have listened to that doctor all those years ago who had prescribed those pills for him. He sighed. Screw the doctor. He should have listened to his exwife Gilly. But he hadn’t and she’d left and taken their daughter with her and that was that. It didn’t matter anyway. The years blended and now he couldn’t say how long ago the doctor told him he needed special pills, and he couldn’t remember when Gilly left him. Seemed like a long, long time. Joe gazed up at the sky and wondered if another one of those freaking thunderstorms headed this way. Thunder rolled in the distance. Between these towering buildings he couldn’t see much sky. He groaned as his stomach protested and gurgled. A tickling at the back of his neck made him uneasy. He scratched the area, but the itch wouldn’t disappear. He knew what that meant. Wasn’t just because he needed a bath. Something was up. Something bad. Time to lock and load and head out. When night came, he wouldn’t stay here in the alley. Too many freaking nut cases around ready to roll a homeless person for what

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little he owned. As he stood his muscles knotted and protested. Slowly he proceeded down the alley, and when he came to the end of the passageway he stopped. Big city sounds and sights buffeted him from every angle and he stiffened. It seemed too much. Too much of everything. Running back into the alley sounded good, maybe screaming as he went. Instead he took a deep breath. He must leave. Better to face the monsters on the street than the demons in the cave behind him. He scratched his head, then stumbled from his makeshift home and onto the sidewalk. The heavy fabric of his shabby coat and scratchy cotton polo shirt tingled over his skin as he shrugged. Smiling, he enjoyed the shirt. He’d found it yesterday in a garbage bag. Who in their right mind tossed a good shirt? It had a stain on the front, but otherwise it was fine and dandy. No holes. No snags. He brushed his hand over his chest. Would Kiley like it? Sure she would. She liked everything he wore. She told him so. And if there was one thing he always remembered, Kiley never lied to him. He frowned. Kiley hadn’t been around for a few days. Her car wasn’t in the garage either. It worried him. But there was no one to ask about her. He hadn’t even seen Susan in the parking lot or he would have said something. As he ambled along the sidewalk, he ignored the stares and contempt from people who passed. The air, warm and sultry earlier in the day, nipped at his body like sharp teeth. Exhaust spewing from a truck creeping down the avenue made him cough. He glared at the semi driver as the man stopped the vehicle in the middle of the one-way street heading away from the complex. Damn semi drivers. He didn’t understand them. This one created a traffic jam. People honked while the diesel fuel belched into the sky, adding a gray cast to blue patches between the skyscrapers. The wail of a siren somewhere close caused him to stop and jerk around, his heart thumping like bongo drums. A cop car sped by at the other end of the street, screeching like a banshee. He hated cop cars too. It was the noise cop cars made that bothered him. Most cops treated him real nice. They might scoot him out of doorways and ask him not to hang around, but he when they saw his medals from Vietnam they often looked sorry for him. Some even offered him their lunch or bought him coffee. Nice guys. A man with too many thoughts, he stomped his way toward the emergency exit at the side of the building. The barometer inched down, and the quick change lowered his mood. He hated that. If it wasn’t for the damned weather and this floating feeling he experienced from time to time, he might keep a job. But if people thought he wasn’t on Earth half the time, they didn’t want him. He chuckled. Once he reached the unsecured door, he slipped into the parking garage. Ah, safe at last. Seconds later he saw the man. A big guy with handsome features and a casual air strode through the area, his suit spotless and his shoes expensive leather. Yeah. No. Alligator or some damn thing? Never could tell with these jokers nowadays.

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All of Joe’s old soldier instincts roared to life. He slipped behind a concrete pillar and watched the man head for the elevator. A warning deep inside Joe’s mind made him hesitate. He’d wait and watch for the man to come back. Sniffing the air, he caught a whiff of the man’s particular scent. He didn’t trust the guy. Evil lingered in this man’s smell. Like sulfur from hell.

***** The killing machine entered the building with confidence. Nothing ever deterred him from what he wanted. Going anywhere he pleased, when he wished, gave him supreme pleasure. This job amounted to a damned cakewalk. Almost too easy. Of course, Thorson gave him enough money to do whatever was needed, with some left over for the finer pleasures. As the guard at the front desk gave him directions to Empowerment Magazine, he straightened his tie and brushed at his lapels. He entered the wide body elevator, then nodded and smiled at the young, beautiful woman inside. Her brown eyes widened slightly when she saw him, and he knew why. Most women found him attractive. The arousal made him as hard as a spike. He inhaled slowly and deeply. He could smell her. Hot and musky. Nothing like a woman’s scent to start a raging hunger in his body and a screaming need to show her— He almost turned toward her. No! Now was not the time. His job came first. Satisfaction would come. He took a deep, long breath then let it out very, very slowly. Soon. Soon. Yes, only one thing gratified him more than having fine champagne in the most expensive hotel in town. In his imagination he could feel the woman’s flesh under his fingers, caressing her at first so she’d calm down, making her realize his gentleness if she’d do as told. Death didn’t need to be so gruesome if people succumbed to the inescapable. Struggling was just so…inconvenient. He recognized her from the pictures Thorson had supplied him. This one was almost as delectable as that bitch Kiley Chapman. The woman wasn’t looking at him now. He licked his lips wondering how she’d taste on his tongue. Anticipation flowed through his body and gave him almost as much pleasure as the throbbing desire to have the woman. Soon he’d close on his main quarry, and he could observe, catalogue, and make decisions on how to trap her. Screw Thorson. He wouldn’t be just scaring the Chapman bitch until she went out of her mind with fear. No, he wouldn’t wait that long. He’d do it his own way or no way. 34

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The elevator dinged, and they arrived at the floor he needed. He followed the woman off the elevator and headed down the hall. When she arrived at Empowerment Magazine and went into the outer office, he grinned. This might be easier than he hoped. Looked like he would accomplish two bitches for the price of one.

***** Kiley couldn’t believe she’d said yes to Scott’s invitation to dinner. Apparently, Susan couldn’t believe it either. “You agreed to do what?” Kiley arranged the jewel-toned multicolor silk scarf around her neck and picked up her briefcase, ready to close the office for the night. “I’ve got to leave or I’ll be late.” “But you just met this guy. Besides, isn’t it a conflict of interest?” Only Susan could get away with asking those kinds of questions. Kiley considered Susan her best friend. “Yes. It’s probably a bad idea, but it’s one I’m going to run with. Tonight is his last chance. Besides, you know where I’ll be, so it’s not like I’m meeting him in an alley or anything.” Susan wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know. This guy might be dangerous.” Kiley laughed as she headed for her office door and into the reception area, Susan right behind her. “Well, his last name is Danger.” She shrugged. “He saved my butt yesterday and today he has nefarious intentions?” “You never know. You saw what he did to that character yesterday.” “I’ll call you after dinner and let you know I’m in one piece. How does that sound?” Susan huffed. “Okay.” Kiley chuckled. “So what about that guy you ogled today? Jackson Cole?” Susan stopped by her desk, retrieved her purse, then they headed out the front door. As Susan closed and locked the door she said, “Oh, you know. The standard great-looking guy. I mean, with those dark chocolate eyes and fantastic build, it was hard not to notice him.” “Such a big man too. Almost as big as Mr. Danger.” “Mr. Danger? Aren’t you being a bit formal with him? This is the twenty-first century, you know. Now Jackson seems like someone I wouldn’t mind becoming really casual with.” Kiley just laughed. She admitted that the last candidate for the hero article had the right stuff. Laid-back but sophisticated, Jackson Cole’s charm had a certain appeal. As she went back through the ten men she’d interviewed for the article, she realized the two most promising were Jackson Cole and Scott Danger. Jackson, though, lacked that challenging, rough edge that permeated everything within Scott’s persona. Jackson’s charm radiated a GQ fashion that didn’t thrill her, though his charisma was sophisticated and not the least smarmy. Still…his eyes lacked something.

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As they headed for the elevator, she admitted that Scott represented a different animal from Jackson. Scott made her edgy—eager to escape the odd feelings his presence generated within her. He was arrogant, a tad pushy, and almost obsessive in his pursuit of what he wanted. “So are you considering Jackson for the spread?” Susan asked, a conspiratorial smile lingering on her lips. “He’s a good contender. Since I have to make the decision by the end of this week, it’s down to two people.” “Let me guess…your date tonight and Jackson?” They entered the elevator and Susan pushed the button that would take them to the parking structure beneath the building. Kiley sighed. “Yes.” Susan twitched one eyebrow and grinned. “And here I thought you couldn’t stand Mr. Danger.” “Would I have dinner with him if I hated him?” Susan leaned against the elevator wall. “Hmm. I suppose not. After all, you said this was just a business meeting, right?” “He has all the time in the world until dinner is over to convince me he’s the one for the article. That’s it. If he doesn’t convince me, it’s adios. I won’t see him again.” “Uh-huh.” Susan didn’t sound convinced. She took her car keys out of her purse. “Remember…give me a call tonight after dinner and let me know how it went, okay?” “I thought you were going out with Travis tonight?” “He’s meeting me at the Sierra Restaurant in an hour. I should be home by ten.” Caution reasserted itself in Kiley’s mind as the elevator descended. Maybe meeting with Scott was a ridiculous idea. She’d go straight home and— She’d stopped being paranoid when she founded the magazine and completed selfdefense courses. She always took the right precautions and could defend herself. Scott challenged her to a duel of sorts, and she didn’t plan on disappointing him. When they reached the parking garage and left the elevator, Susan gasped. “Damn. I forgot my umbrella.” She sighed. “I suppose I could do without it…” “You’ll get soaked.” Susan sighed. “You’re right. Look, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She punched the elevator button to go up. “Call me.” Kiley smiled as she started away. “Mother hen.” The elevator doors opened and Susan stepped inside. “Even if it’s really late, call me!” As the elevator doors closed, Kiley gave her friend a wave and headed for her car. Kiley wondered what kind of car a man like Scott drove. A Porsche? A Range Rover? He had reluctantly agreed to meet her at Genero’s instead of at the office. She’d 36

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seen it in his eyes. A flash of rebellion that made him almost demand that he pick her up from work. She’d stood her ground, even though his proximity sent reaction shivering up her spine. If she’d feared him she wouldn’t have met with him tonight. She trusted her gut instinct. The underground parking garage had plenty of cars at this time of night. No one else, though, traversed the lot. Kiley kept her keys at the ready, holding the pointed end of one key in a defensive position. As she walked, a prickle of awareness gathered in her stomach. She’d felt this way several nights ago right before she got the mysterious calls. She hadn’t received a threatening call in a week, so she figured the heavy breather was a dumb teenage boy in need of a thrill. Still, a part of her wished Susan hadn’t returned upstairs. They often parked next to each other and had a sense of security from seeing the other enter their respective vehicles safely. Another prickle of unease darted along Kiley’s body. I’m being watched. Her pumps clicked on the concrete flooring and reverberated around the vast area with a haunting echo. The closer she came to her car, the more certain she became that someone followed her. Fear crawled along her backbone. She wanted to stop. Wanted to look behind her, around her and show whoever watched that intimidation didn’t work with her. That she knew they stalked her. Kiley’s pulse drummed in her veins, her breath shortened, sweat formed along her body as she readied herself for a possible attack. A shadow loomed next to her as she passed a concrete pillar. “Hey, missy.” Jerking in surprise, Kiley turned, her hands up and ready, her body coiled with tension. A sound of defense, almost like a growl, issued from her throat as she confronted the shadow. “Whoa, whoa! Take it easy, missy. It’s just me, Joe.” Old Joe, a tall, thin, raggedy man, stood a few feet away, his hands held up. Relief made her sag, her arms dropping, and a shuddering breath racking her body. “Damn it, Joe, don’t ever sneak up on me like that again!” He kept his hands aloft, as if she held a gun on him, his leathery, tanned face wrinkled with surprise. “I’m sorry, missy. I was taking a nap behind that old van.” Joe Cartolli couldn’t have been more than fifty, but his wrinkled face and ratty, fuzzy black hair splattered with grey gave him that “ridden hard and put up wet” look. His baggy, green fatigue pants and seedy jacket adorned with a variety of military patches suggested he’d either been in the military or had a fondness for the institution. Added to his attire was a fancy-looking shirt that looked new. He’d been a fixture around the building since before she founded the magazine. Gentle and kind, Joe patrolled the area during the day then ate at a soup kitchen a few blocks away in the evening. His skinny frame suggested he consumed the one meal a day and no more. She’d never seen any indication that he drank or took drugs. Kiley

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looked down at his torn and filthy athletic shoes. He could muffle his steps in this type of footwear. Kiley drew a deep breath and tried to calm her pounding heart. She dredged up a smile at his wide-eyed, apologetic expression. “You can put your hands down. I’m not going to shoot you.” He smiled, and her aggravation with the man washed away. Joe wouldn’t hurt anything or anyone. “Sorry, missy. But isn’t it dangerous for you here all alone?” She smiled. “I’ve been doing this for years. Why should it be dangerous now?” He shrugged. “No reason…other than I snuck up on you pretty darn easy. If I’d been someone bad you could’ve been hurt.” He placed his hands on his narrow hips. “There was a strange man down in the lot today.” Instinctively she glanced around the area. “A strange man?” “Yeah. Real suave-like. I watched him go in the building.” “There are a lot of well-dressed business men around here, Joe.” He nodded. “Yeah, but there was something about him I didn’t like.” She’d never known him to be paranoid before. “What did he look like? Maybe I know him.” Shrugging, he leaned against a concrete pillar. “Like someone with a crap-load of money. Fancy shoes, double-breasted suit. Real quality. But I don’t think he was quality, if you know what I mean. And he hasn’t come back this way. Must still be in the building.” Kiley crossed her arms and peered at him, not certain she knew what to say. “Thanks for your concern, Joe, but you shouldn’t be here. You know security is going to be really hacked if they find you.” “They won’t catch me.” He tapped his chest with one grubby finger. “Nobody catches Joe.” He shuffled his feet. “Besides, I haven’t been here that often. It’s hot out. I just thought it would be easier to come in here and cool off.” “I know. Do me a favor next time and call out so I know it’s you. You almost gave me a heart attack.” He saluted solemnly, like a soldier following a commanding officer’s orders. “Will do. See ya, missy.” Kiley saluted and smiled. She turned away and headed to her car. Once inside, she locked the doors and tried to collect her wits. After taking a few deep, steady breaths, Kiley started the engine and left the garage. She glanced at the clock under the speedometer and cursed under her breath. At this rate she’d be late. Very late. Fortunately she hit almost every green light, and pulled into the valet parking area only ten minutes past schedule. The host took her straight to the table, a private corner hidden behind tall frond-like plants.

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Scott’s frown turned into a charming, delighted smile. Amazing. He’d wiped the scowl off his face and transformed to Mr. Charming in two seconds flat. Maybe he’d taken charisma lessons from Jackson Cole. Then his gaze heated, a furnace-hot perusal that swept her from head to toe in one encompassing perusal. She felt her body flush from the responding excitement. His hungry look said she was the only one that mattered. He’d changed from the suit he’d worn earlier in the day into a dark green polo shirt and dark blue pants. With his hair tied back, the strong planes of his face were evident. His broad shoulders and delineated arm muscles gave him a powerful look without making him seem like an overworked bodybuilder. Her mouth watered and crazy attraction slammed her libido. She liked what she saw way too much. After the waiter took her drink order, Scott lifted his water glass and took a sip. “You’re late.” He didn’t say it with anger, but she instantly tensed. “I’m not in the habit of being late, Mr. Danger. Something happened in the parking lot that held me up.” The relaxed expression on his face disappeared, replaced with a hard, unrelenting mask. “What happened?” “I ran into a friend. I told him not to sneak up on me anymore. If he does it again, I might hurt him.” He leaned forward. “Who is this old friend?” Surprised by his vehemence, Kiley considered not telling him. Then again, watching him lose his composure felt forbidden and exciting. “Old Joe Cartolli. He’s a homeless man I’ve known for years. He’s harmless.” “I should have picked you up—” “Hold it.” She held up her hand and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Why are you getting wound up?” “Because you could have been hurt, that’s why.” “I told you, Joe wouldn’t harm me.” “How do you know?” “He’s a little goofy…I think his brains got scrambled during Vietnam. But he’s very sweet and wouldn’t hurt anyone.” “But what if it had been someone else? Next time we go out, I’m picking you up.” His no-nonsense assumption made Kiley’s stomach burn. “A little possessive on the first date, aren’t you, Mr. Danger?” His gaze caught hers and held it. “I didn’t know you considered this a date.” Heat warmed her face. “We’re here to discuss a business deal.” Scott’s stormy gaze softened, his entire face easing into a serene mask. “I’m sorry. I was worried about you. Forgive me?”

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Her breath caught in her throat. She looked away. Of all the things Kiley expected him to say, apologizing and admitting his worry hadn’t crossed her mind. The waiter brought her iced tea, and she sipped it rather than comment on Danger’s declaration of concern. “Tell me why you think you’re a hero, Mr. Danger.” He touched the side of his water glass with his index finger, and she looked at his large, capable hands. Big and beautifully made. Strong and masculine. A quick fantasy of those hands rubbing along the undersides of her breast and then cupping them added to her steadily building sexual awareness. “You’ve seen my resume. I’ve done many things in my life. I’ve had a variety of experience with skiing, sky diving—” “No, I mean what’s inside of you that qualifies as hero material? Why should a woman find you attractive? Just because you’re good-looking? Because you’ve done many adventurous things?” Scott sighed, and she watched his eyes warm to the subject. “Not every woman would find me attractive, any more than I would find every beautiful woman attractive.” She laughed softly. “I’ve seen how men react to the sight of a beautiful woman. They always appreciate her good looks. Always. You can’t tell me you don’t look.” He took another sip of his water. “Of course I look. I’m not dead. But when I’m with a specific woman, she has my attention. I don’t look at or flirt with other women while I’m with her. It wouldn’t be fair to her. It’s rude.” His gaze centered on her in a way that said there was no one else in the world for him at that moment. She’d never experienced the feeling that she held a man’s complete attention down to the core. The power felt dizzying, and the heat of it rushed through her veins with savage intensity. Her breath felt short and that telltale excitement made her skin prickle in anticipation of more to come. As he held her gaze, Kiley couldn’t think straight. Still, she didn’t believe it. “Like you’re doing with me now?” she asked. “Exactly.” “But what if you decide you don’t like the woman? What if she bores you to death?” That disarming smile curved his lips. “I can fake it.” “I’ll bet you can.” “Many people can’t hide their feelings. They let it all hang out.” “So you think it’s okay to affect a false emotion rather than to display a true one?” Before Scott could answer, the waiter returned for their dinner orders. She chose a chicken fricassee, and he chose salmon. She half expected him to select beef. Not that she had anything against beef, but he seemed like a T-bone and potatoes kind of guy. Scott turned his attention to her when the waiter departed. “It depends on the situation. I’m not talking about always suppressing true emotion. I’m saying keeping 40

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emotions inside when it’s to your ultimate advantage. You can always run two miles, lift weights, or scream if you want when you need stress release later. That’s a healthy release from the stress of holding back what you feel. In most situations you need tight control on what you let other people see.” She fingered the side of her glass, just as Scott had touched his glass earlier, and Kiley caught him gazing at her hands. Her cinnamon nail polish looked dark against the pale skin of her hands. She wondered what he was thinking. When she caught his gaze, a wicked smile touched his lips. Her stomach stirred with heat. She shifted in her seat, the unexpected achy feeling between her legs jumping up a notch. “So I can safely assume if I see any emotion on your face it’s because you’ve allowed me to see it?” she asked. “Correct.” Disappointment washed away a little of the arousal. “You’ve never accidentally displayed an emotion?” “Sure I have. I’m not a robot, Kiley. I’m just a man.” I’m just a man. No way she could think of him as ordinary. His walk, his talk, his personality, or at least what he’d revealed, depicted a unique blend of contradictory elements. She’d learned to decipher body language, but she bet this man was a student of deception. “So how is a woman supposed to know the real Scott Danger? How do I know when you’re telling me the truth or throwing me a slick line?” “I don’t do slick lines. If I compliment a woman it’s the truth.” He lowered his voice to almost a whisper. “For example, you’re the most beautiful, exciting woman I’ve ever seen. And that’s no bull.” Kiley saw it in Scott’s eyes. Not for a flicker, but revealed in living color. Desire. Pure, unadulterated, hot hunger. Arousal spiraled within her, spinning into burning turmoil. That he could want her, lowered her guard. That he would show her that intense desire surprised and scared her. She harbored no illusions about her looks. She wasn’t plain, but no one could call her beautiful and mean it. It didn’t matter if he told the truth…his truth, or not. She couldn’t trust a man with so many faces. “A hero is a man who doesn’t have an agenda when he’s with a woman,” she said. “He can’t be interested solely in sex.” Once again, in his calm style, Scott took a long time to answer. “You think that’s all I’m interested in when I’m with a woman?” “Every man has an agenda.” “Such as?” “You name it. Friendship. Lover. Since your goal isn’t either one of those, it’s probably business.” He nodded. “Business.”

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Screw him for avoiding a direct answer. She wanted to scream. Kiley wanted to reach deep inside him and decipher his secrets, search around until the real man emerged. Scott shoved his empty glass aside. “I’ve seen you struggle to keep anger inside. To keep from calling me an asshole.” He’d read her too well. “I suppose you think that’s wrong?” The waiter brought their meals. Once she tasted her chicken, she looked back at him. He hadn’t answered her question and she wondered if he’d forgotten. She sensed his tremendous patience. “Not necessarily wrong,” he finally said. “Sometimes it can put you at a disadvantage.” They ate in silence until she became uncomfortable with the quiet. She’d meant to quiz him relentlessly until he abandoned his bid to be a hero for the article. Yet the things Kiley wanted to ask him had nothing to do with being a hero. She wanted to ask him personal things about family, his life. Picking at her meal, she realized her appetite had disappeared. “Are you saying I should change because you think I should?” she asked suddenly. He shoved his plate aside. It looked as if he’d practically licked it clean. “No. You’ve decided how you’re going to be. It’s up to you.” “Has anyone ever accused you falseness?” “Sure. They say I’m hiding the real me.” “You think no one would like you if they knew the real Scott Danger? What if you reverted back to Scott Danjureaux?” “No and yes.” She smiled. “You are cryptic.” “Keeps the enemy off guard.” “Am I the enemy?” “No.” “You enjoy getting a reaction from me, don’t you?” His thick eyebrows arched, and a cocky grin formed on his wide mouth. “It’s interesting watching that cool control falter.” She made a snorting sound. “Cool control? Aren’t you talking about yourself?” Scott leaned his elbows on the table, abandoning etiquette. “You think you show what you’re feeling, but most of the time you don’t. You’re even more boxed in than I am. I wonder why?” The truth hit Kiley in the gut like a sucker punch. So did the familiarity of the situation. Scott Danger displayed some traits of that bastard Barclay. Barclay used to whittle and whittle at her until he obtained a reaction. Any kind. He’d forced her to open until she felt like a book spread wide for his 42

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inspection. He’d taken that vulnerability and plied at it until the core of her, the malleable center exposed. She fell in love with him then. With the man she thought she knew. Kiley had given Barclay everything. He’d taken her body and then her soul. Taken a tender heart and torn it to shreds. Her heart palpitated and Kiley could barely take another breath. Flinching, she shoved her chair back. “Excuse me. I’ve got to powder my nose.” She caught Scott’s concerned expression as she turned and stalked away. She headed toward the rest room. God, she sounded stupid. Powder her nose? That expression had vanished with long dresses and debutante balls. When she reached the bathroom and plunged inside, she went for the mirror. Kiley grunted in disbelief. Static made her normally smooth hair stick out, and her cheeks flushed pink. Simply not acceptable. Kiley wouldn’t allow him to fluster her to the point she didn’t know what she was doing. She turned on the cold water. Leaning over the sink, she dashed water on her cheeks, allowing the liquid to soothe the sting of emotion. Gradually her breathing calmed. She shut off the water and reached for paper towels. With her eyes shut, Kiley dabbed at her face. It would ruin her makeup, but she didn’t care. She opened her eyes and glanced into the mirror. Her appearance shifted. Cuts transected her brow, her pale cheeks, and her chin. Worst of all a cut ran deep and jagged from Kiley’s right eye to her hairline.

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Chapter Four Kiley jerked back, her mouth opened to scream. Fear clawed through her, accelerating her heart and galloping through her veins like a runaway horse at a steeplechase. She closed her eyes, clenching her hands into fists at her sides. Then she remembered. An illusion. A stress-induced mirage of her college roommate Gabriella’s torn face. Kiley had experienced this type of thing before. Shuddering as dread rolled up her spine, she pressed her hands over her eyes. Taking deep breaths, she hoped no one would come in and see her this way. In the tiny corner of her mind not occupied by fear, she kicked herself for caring what anyone thought. She’d done an admirable job all her life of not giving a rat’s ass what anyone believed about her. She wouldn’t backpedal now. “No,” she whispered. She dropped her hands and forced her eyes open to stare into the mirror. No cuts or bruises. Not even terror. Kiley left the restroom, and as she returned to the table, Scott glanced at his watch. How long had she been in the bathroom? Time seemed to have no meaning as she floated across the room. Her head felt fuzzy, and her stomach did a flop and a pitch. She put her hand to her belly and dropped into her chair. “You okay?” he asked, his voice a little husky, his brow creased in concern. “Never been better,” she mumbled. “You don’t look too hot.” He narrowed his eyes until they became slits of disapproval. “In fact, we’re skipping dessert.” He gestured at the waiter, and within minutes he paid the check. “I’m fine,” she said, even though cold sweat prickled the back of her neck and the nausea increased. The waiter gave Scott his credit card back, and she realized she hadn’t protested that he’d paid for her dinner. He folded his wallet and put it away. “You’re not fine. In fact, you look like hell.” “Thank you so much.” “Come on.” He reached for her arm as he stood, gently guiding her from her seat. “Let’s get you home.” “I haven’t finished interviewing you,” she said, knowing her voice lacked the strength to convince anyone, especially him. 44

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“You can finish interviewing me later.” She allowed him to guide her, his hand at the small of her back. Outside, the inky black clouds opened, drenching the earth with a steady, pounding rain. Lightning arced overhead, thunder crackling close on its heels. Kiley realized she’d let him take over, and it pissed her off. As they stood under the overhang, she started to hand her ticket to the parking valet. “Oh no you don’t,” Scott said, handing the valet his ticket instead. “You’re not driving in this.” She made a sound of disgust, and the valet hesitated, looking at them curiously. “I’m perfectly capable of driving in rain. I’ve been doing it for years,” she said. Scott shook his head as a flash of lightning made her wince. “You’re not feeling well, and the weather is a bitch. I’ll take you home.” The valet headed off, apparently satisfied with Scott’s assessment. Kiley made another sound of aversion. “God, you are such an arrogant—” “Look, you can trust me. If you were feeling well I wouldn’t say a thing. I’m concerned about you. You can get your car tomorrow.” Scott’s intent gaze bored into her, and his hand stayed warm and possessive on her back. She wanted to tell him to get out of her life, and to forget the magazine spread. But her head pounded and she wanted nothing more than to head home and sleep. When she got up in the morning she’d tell him to buzz off. The magazine layout would go to Jackson Cole. Tonight Kiley didn’t want to fight him anymore. His eyes lingered on her face, his attention searching. He stood too close, and her senses rebelled at the way her nipples tightened and that high-grade arousal continued to stir within her loins. She shivered under the tiny thrill that ran through her when he leaned in closer and his arm slid around her waist to bring her nearer. His body heat sheltered and, despite any misgivings or anger, she felt totally secure within his embrace, as if nothing and no one could hurt her. Why did her body trust him so much when her mind didn’t? She couldn’t seem to stop staring into his eyes. His nostrils flared and his pupils dilated. His lips parted and a moment hung between them. His head tilted slightly to the side. Was he inclining toward her, edging nearer for a kiss? Tension grew tighter, the powerful link stretched as this mysterious thread built between them. Instead, he looked away, and the moment dropped away. She felt breathless and unsteady and knew it had nothing to do with her stomach upset or the weird hallucination she’d suffered in the restroom. The valet brought Scott’s car around, and when she saw it, she made a little sound. “Wouldn’t you know…” “What?” Scott yelled into the wind and the rain as they jumped into his car. She buckled her seat belt, taking in the fully loaded vehicle with appreciation. Her BMW had many perks, but this one had everything, including a GPS navigation system.

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She palmed the black leather seat. “It’s a BMW. A fern green BMW.” As Scott started the car and pulled away from the curb, he asked, “So what?” “I have a fern green BMW.” “I know. A 323i.” As soon as he said the words, a nagging suspicion formed in the back of her brain.

***** As he concentrated on the rain slick road in front of him, Scott listened to the exasperation in Kiley’s voice as she called her friend Susan. He knew that he caused her consternation. At the same time, he didn’t regret a minute of their heated exchanges. “Hi, Susan. As you can hear, I’m still in one piece. Mr. Danger hasn’t kidnapped me.” Kiley looked at her watch. “It’s about nine-thirty. I’ll see you tomorrow bright and early.” She closed her flip phone and sighed. “Thank God for answering machines.” “Why did you have to call Susan?” Scott asked as he maneuvered in traffic. Sheets of rain beat down on them, obscuring the road until visibility lowered considerably. “I told you, she wanted to be sure I got home okay.” “And you think I’m overprotective.” He half expected her to snap at him, but she didn’t even look his way. “She’s a great friend. I’d do the same for her.” Great friends. He’d disassociated himself from most male friendships. They drifted apart after he left the military. In the military he’d forged relationships based on mutual respect and trust. Sometimes the result of living your life on the edge meant those relationships deepened into lifelong friendships. In other cases it destroyed lives. Tina hadn’t handled his dangerous life like his old buddies. She’d given him the boot, and he felt that guilt. That certainty that if he’d been there for her when she needed him so desperately, their relationship could have survived. Swiftly Scott shoved back memories clogging his attention. He couldn’t afford to slip on the job because of old baggage. Mrs. Taggert depended on him. And whether she knew it or not, so did Kiley. Although the windshield wipers thwacked with a quick pace, rain beat against the glass and obscured Scott’s view. He drove slowly through the rising water. Brilliant flashes of blue and white lightning danced like disco strobe lights. As he glanced at Kiley, the flicker illuminated her face with a dazzling glow. He pulled through the security gates of Kiley’s condo complex, admiring the Spanish-style adobe and red tile roofs. He took in the area with quick precision. He saw nothing suspicious, but instinct had kept Scott alive many times when visual clues had let him down. At least her condo had guards wandering the grounds. It gave him some peace of mind. But not enough to leave her alone while she remained in this weird state.

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When he saw Kiley’s pale face and haunted eyes earlier this evening, he’d known deep down in his gut that something terrible plagued her. He’d seen the look before. Sheer determination on a soldier’s face as he tried not to show fear during combat. The panicky flare of a paratrooper’s nostrils as he leaped out of an airplane on his first jump. He thought he’d hardened himself to displays of fear, but he hadn’t seen it on Kiley’s face until now. He’d thought no one could make him feel concern the way this woman did. Scott didn’t want to feel this way. Hardening his resolve to do his job and forget emotional entanglements, he gave Kiley a sidelong glance. She stared out the windshield, her expression hard and glazed like a mannequin. He almost touched her to see if she was real. “Keep your eyes on the road,” she said suddenly. He surprised himself by letting out a squawk of laughter. She stared ahead like a zombie. As Scott turned the car into her driveway, she reached for the door handle. He put his hand on her shoulder. “Wait.” “Thanks for taking me home, but I’d like to go inside now.” “I’m coming in with you.” “The hell you are,” she said, her voice flat. “Does this aggressive behavior work on all your lady friends?” “I didn’t know you were my lady friend.” “Don’t twist my words.” He sighed and let his hand slide down until he touched her fingers. Her flesh was cold, and the slightest tremble moved her fingers. “Look, I realize you don’t trust me. I don’t blame you. You don’t know me from Adam. But I’m asking you to go with your instincts right now. If you believe I’d hurt you, then tell me, and I’ll let you go inside alone.” Scott waited, realizing he was taking an incredible gamble. Nothing on her face said she’d let him come in or that once he got there she’d let him stay. In the dim glow of the car lighting system, he saw indecision flit through her. Then her eyes hardened like granite. “You can stop acting the hero, Mr. Danger. I’ve made my decision. I’ve picked another man for the article.” Fuck. Kiley Chapman was far more stubborn and determined than any woman he’d met before. He tightened his fingers over hers, but not enough to hurt her. Her cell phone rang and she started. Yanking her hand out from under his, she reached inside her trench coat for the phone. She answered, and he watched as she said hello and listened for a reply. He shut off the ignition.

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Scott looked at the driving rain, and knew she’d be soaked before she made it inside the house. He pictured Kiley slipping from her wet clothes, each piece of her conservative suit peeling away from her damp skin. He almost closed his eyes to view the exciting fantasy more clearly. He kept his attention glued to the dashboard and his mind took him on a quick erotic journey. Her wet blouse would cling to the push-up bra she always seemed to wear, but this time the moisture would show the tiny points of her nipples pressing hard against the material. The skirt would cling to her ass and mold each intriguing curve. He’d stalk toward her, determined to rip the blouse and bra off her and lick those hard nipples into such screaming arousal she’d beg him to suck them. After unzipping the skirt, he’d discover she wore tiny bikinis in serious red and his fingers would slide the minuscule barrier down over her pussy, past her thighs, until he stripped them off her ankles and tossed them away. His cock pressed rigidly against his pants, and he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Get a grip. Get a friggin’ grip. She’ll never let you do that. Not in a million years, Danger. He heard her sharp inhalation. Her lips parted, her eyes widened. Then her forehead wrinkled as her eyes blazed with anger. “Why, you dirty—” Kiley slapped the flip phone closed and jammed it into her coat. Before she could reach her door latch, he grabbed her arm. “Who was that?” She looked down at his hand on her arm, then back up at him. “A pervert. Now let me go.” “You’re shaking.” “You would be too if some creep kept calling and threatening you and then some big, macho man with an ego the size of Alaska decided he’d manhandle his way into your life.” Scott hated to play dumb, but he did it anyway. He released her. “Actually, my ego is only the size of Vermont. How long have you received threatening phone calls?” She shrugged. A crash of lightning made her jump. “About a week, I guess.” “Have you called the police?” She gave him an “are you an idiot” look. “You know that wouldn’t do any good. They can’t help me unless he does something.” “Aren’t you frightened?” “Of course not.” Her phone rang again. “Shit.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard a woman swear as much as she did. And all of it in one night. She grabbed the phone and answered. “Listen, you sick bastard—” Kiley stopped, and Scott waited for her to launch into her tormentor again. In its place, she put her hand to her mouth and closed her eyes. Concern hit him square in the solar plexus. He touched her shoulder gently once again. She shook her head, but

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whether it was to discourage his touch or to deny what she heard over the phone, he couldn’t be sure. “Travis, I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’ve had one of those nights.” Travis? A boyfriend? A lover? Curiosity filtered through him, and a possessive stirring that he didn’t like. Scott shoved back the uncharacteristic sensation with a vengeance. “No,” she said then sighed. “I haven’t heard from her. She said she was meeting you…” Her face transformed from merely disturbed to anxiety-ridden. “But I left her at the office around seven. She asked me to call her and I just tried her home. All I get is the answering machine.” Another long pause. “She’d forgotten her umbrella. Oh, God.” If there had been enough light in the car for him to see well, Scott knew her face would be deadly pale. “I’ll meet you back at my office, Travis.” She closed the phone. “What is it?” he asked. “Take me to the magazine. Susan was supposed to meet her boyfriend for dinner tonight. She never showed up.”

***** Kiley’s insides trembled like gelatin as Scott pulled the car up to the front of the building and parked illegally. The underground garage wasn’t open at this time of night. Her nerves tingled and snapped like live wires, every sense alert. The pounding rain on the car drummed in her skull like an irksome melody. Her skin prickled with goose bumps as lightning danced across the sky in a relentless ballet, the thunder rumbling into canon fire. What could happen next? First the horrible hallucinations, haunting memories from the past. The pervert’s demented ravings and Travis’ worried call. Kiley fought for control, battling with disgust that barreled through her in waves. She’d done so well. So well up until now. She might be weak now, but she couldn’t show it to the man beside her. She crammed back the foreboding, letting nothing but adrenaline motivate her actions. Susan might need her. God, where is Susan? Scott turned off the car and opened his door. “Stay here. Keep the doors locked.” “I’m not staying here, damn it,” she said, leaving the car before he could protest. She ran through the steady downpour toward the front doors, and Scott quickly caught up to her. Cold wind lashed water into her eyes, and she wiped it away. She saw the guard at the front desk and gestured to him. The young man came over immediately. He unlocked the door and gave Scott a wary glance. “What are you doing here, Kiley?” the young man asked. “Nick, have you seen Susan?”

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He shook his head. “No. Why?” Kiley explained about Susan’s disappearance. “Travis is on his way here. We’re worried about her.” “Come in out of the rain,” he said, still eyeballing Scott suspiciously. Amazed that Scott Danger let her handle all the talking, she walked into the building. When the guard locked the front doors, she made introductions. “You have a guard who patrols the garage?” Scott asked. Nick pushed a strand of dark hair away from his forehead. The leather holster around his waist creaked as he shifted. “Yeah. He checked down there ten minutes ago. Everything was secure. He’s on the eighth floor right now.” She didn’t want to wait and started for the elevators. “I’m going up to the office.” She expected Scott to stop her, but instead he followed. “Has the guard already been over the sixth floor tonight?” Scott asked as he walked to the elevators. Nick hurried to the desk. “Yeah.” “Call him now and have him meet us there,” Scott said. The elevator opened and she went inside, and Scott almost didn’t have time to jump in before the doors closed. As the elevator rose quickly through the floors, her nerves fluttered in her throat and stomach. Kiley took a deep breath. Susan is fine. Susan is fine. He touched her shoulder and she jumped. “Hey, take it easy.” “Right,” she whispered, unconvinced. His tall, strong body next to hers felt reassuring. He kept his warm hand on her shoulder. They reached the sixth floor, and she started out of the elevator, but he held her back. “Stay behind me.” Kiley could have argued about macho posturing, but it didn’t seem important. She could berate him later. She didn’t say a word, but kept close to his back. Scott didn’t rush down the hall like she would have, and she wanted to push him with her hand to get him moving. When he reached the magazine offices, the door was closed and the lights out. “She’s not here,” she said softly. He gestured for her to stay back. “Where’s the key?” Kiley handed it to him, but as he grasped the doorknob he stopped. “What is it?” She came closer, placing her hand on his back as she craned around him to look. She saw the red, rusty marks on the doorknob. They hadn’t been there earlier tonight. The substance was also smeared on his hand. Kiley shuddered. “God, what is that? Is that what I think—”

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“Got a tissue?” “What?” “A tissue.” She produced one out of her small handbag, and Scott used it to clasp the doorknob. Fingerprints. He was worried about obliterating fingerprints? Seconds later he used the key and they moved into the office. She reached for the switch and light flickered on overhead. Scott started into the room when he stopped and Kiley almost bumped into the back of him. He swung on her, his gaze tight with anger. “Damn it, Kiley, stay back—” “I’m going to look through this office whether you want me to or not, so get used to it.” She moved to peer around the corner of the Susan’s high counter desk. She took in a startled breath. “Her umbrella is on the desk.” His eyes had constricted into those discriminating gashes once again. He nodded. Without a word he went toward her office, while she headed for their small break room. She was almost to the room when she saw it. A single foot peeked out from the open doorway. She recognized the brown highheeled pump. She’d found Susan.

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Chapter Five “No, no, no,” Kiley whispered as she gathered her shocked wits and ran toward her friend. She stopped at Susan’s feet and looked down on the battered body. “Oh, God.” Ten years rolled back as she remembered seeing Gabriella’s torn face for the first time. Dear Gabriella’s face and life altered forever. “Oh, God, please no.” Kiley dropped to her knees and reached for Susan’s arm. A sound escaped Kiley’s throat—a cross between disbelief and horror. “Oh, no, no, no.” Susan was spread-eagled, her body stretched like a sacrifice on an altar. A cut just above her right eyebrow had bled, matting her hair. One side of her face was swollen to almost twice its normal size, and her lower lip was split open. Blood streaked down her chin. Her dress was torn down the middle, exposing her camisole, bra and half-slip. Her panty hose were shredded, as if some demon had used his teeth to scrape them away from her skin. Long, red marks traversed her pale thighs and calves. Dark bruises covered her arms, and her neck. Then Kiley saw Susan’s chest rise and fall. Kiley uttered a gasp of relief and utter fear. She reached into her purse for a wad of tissues, bunching them up and applying pressure to the wound above the eyebrow. Kiley’s cry for help ripped from her throat almost painfully. “Scott!” She heard the pounding of feet, the sound of surprise and aversion right behind her. She looked back and saw him pull his cell phone from his jacket. Within seconds he called 911. The next few minutes went by in a blur. Kiley moved in a fog where reality melted away with every second. Each action she made went in slow motion. She felt each of her edgy, rapid breaths and the trembling in her limbs. “She’s in shock,” Scott said as he checked Susan’s vitals. “Let’s get her covered up.” They removed their coats and laid them upon Susan. Anger marched through Kiley, releasing her from the fog. “What unspeakable bastard would do this?” Kiley asked, hatred filling her until her stomach burned. Scott’s face was solid stone. He brushed a tendril of Susan’s hair away from her forehead, his tender gesture at odds with the freezer burn in his eyes. “A twisted, demented monster.” His voice held a gruff quality that added to the chill in Kiley’s bones. The grim, tight set of his lips told her he’d seen a lot of injury and death in his lifetime. She couldn’t have said how she knew…she just knew.

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Travis ran in a few moments later, Nick on his heels. Dropping to his knees at Susan’s feet, Travis’s blue eyes rounded like saucers, his handsome countenance filled with alarm. Water matted his blond hair and dripped down his face. Travis held a hand up as if to reach out and touch Susan. “Is she going to be all right?” “She’s in shock. It’s serious,” Scott said. Travis touched her leg, his grip almost tentative, as if afraid he’d hurt her. “I should have picked her up. I should have…” Suspicion reared its head, and Kiley peered at him. Could he have attacked Susan and left her for dead? She didn’t know the man well. Nothing she knew about him would lead her to believe him capable of hurting anyone. Close on mistrust came guilt. If she’d waited for Susan or come up here with her, none of this might have happened. Seconds later the other security guard came running in with the paramedics and two police officers and they took over. As the paramedics wheeled Susan away, Travis followed. Kiley’s heart drummed in her chest and a litany of self-recrimination refused to abate, pounding in her head until her temples throbbed. Your fault, Kiley. All your damned fault. “I want to go with her,” Kiley said, following the gurney. “We’d rather you stay here for questioning,” a tall, blond, skinny officer said as she headed out the door. His short crew cut made him look young and inexperienced, but the lines around his eyes said he carried more years on his shoulders than at first glance. “I know you want to be with your friend, but this is important.” She came to a stop. He was right, of course. “Can we make it quick?” The officer nodded and smiled gently. “We’ll be as quick as possible.” Scott led the way to the couches in the reception area. As she sank onto the black vinyl surface, the night’s horrors threatened to assault her. Kiley fought back tears as she recalled the bruises and cuts on Susan’s body. Scott stood over her like a watchdog, his gaze alternating between the police officer and her. He crossed his arms, and when she looked into his eyes, warmth thawed their depths. His mouth softened, and he sat beside her and slipped his arm around her shoulders. The warmth of his touch diminished the solid chill that had gripped her body since she’d found Susan. New strength filled her limbs and she felt steadier. She remembered who she was and all she’d gone through in her life. She’d experienced violence before— she could handle this. Kiley told the officer what she knew, which overall didn’t amount to much. The officer held his pen over a notebook, ready to write down any clue. “Kiley received a threatening call before we heard from Travis,” Scott said. The officer glanced back and forth between them, his eyes rimmed with fatigue, yet sharp and absorbing everything. “Have you reported these calls?” 53

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“No,” Kiley said. “What type of calls? Obscene?” the officer asked. Irritation warred within her. “What has this got to do with the attack on Susan?” “Maybe nothing,” the officer said. “You never know. Better to tell us things you don’t think are related than to leave something out that could be of value later.” “It’s just a prank call or two, nothing serious. Some heavy breathing and lewd remarks.” She gave him the details. Scott’s eyes widened as she said, “Tonight was the worst one. He told me he was going to…he was going to hurt me so badly no man would ever be interested in me again.” Scott muttered under his breath, and she guessed he wasn’t reciting a nursery rhyme. When the officer finished taking down Scott’s statement as well, he pocketed his notebook. By now a team of several officers, including forensics, swarmed the area. The blond officer turned to Kiley. “Do you have someone you can stay with, Miss Chapman?” She licked her lips. “Why?” “It’s a possibility the threatening calls are related to what happened to your friend tonight. I’d suggest you don’t stay alone.” With that the officer left, heading toward a group of police clustered around the area where they’d located Susan minutes before. “I’m going to the hospital,” she said as she stood. Scott’s arm slipped from around her shoulder as he stood with her. “I’ll go with you,” he said. “No.” Scott drew close, his gaze probing. “Why not?” “Look, you’ve been great. I don’t know what I…what she would have done without your help.” He shook his head and reached for her shoulders. When he spoke his voice was soft. “I’m not leaving you now. You’ve had one hell of an evening.” He gave her arms a squeeze. “Kiley, you heard the officer. You need protection.” “He didn’t say I needed protection.” “You know damn well he did.” “I’ll stay with my uncle.” “You could be putting him in danger.” Impatient, Kiley pushed against his chest, and it broke his grip on her arms. She stood and started for the doorway, but he kept up with her step for step. The man was harder to shake off than a leech. “There’s nothing to prove that the sicko on the phone and what happened to Susan are related—” “Do you really want proof?” 54

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As Kiley reached the elevator and punched the button to go down, he turned her to face him. She’d never met a man who could be so remote and yet touch her so often. It seemed ever since she met him he’d been touching her. “Go home,” she said. “You’ve been great, like I said. But there’s no reason for you to get involved in this. You’re done. Finis. No more magazine article, and no more dangerous situations. All over.” The elevator stopped on their floor, and when she entered he followed. Of course. Once he was inside, and the elevator descended, he hit the stop button and the elevator came to a screeching halt. “What are you doing?” she said, her voice tinged with annoyance. Kiley grabbed the handrail behind her and leaned against it. “Are you psycho?” “Some people think I am.” He approached her and she almost lost it. Almost moved by instinct, out of anger, fear and rage. Scott represented the man who had betrayed and hurt her ten years ago, and Scott symbolized the man who had hurt Susan. She stiffened, ready to try her self-defense moves if necessary. Instead, he stopped within a few inches of her, invading her space but not quite touching. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she asked. “Back off.” “I’m showing you how vulnerable you are to attack. I understand you’ve had selfdefense training and you might do a little damage to me.” His hand came up and she flinched. He flattened his palm against the wall beside her head. “You’d put up a good fight. And you’d lose.” “If you’re trying to intimidate me, it won’t work.” He went on. “I’m a hell of a lot bigger then you. I know ways to kill you that you’ve never heard of and don’t want to know about.” A new trembling started low in her stomach, mixed with a bizarre mixture of excitement, arousal and fear. “You learned how to kill in the Army.” “Yeah.” “Am I supposed to find that a turn-on? A weird sexual thrill?” He shook his head, and the small smile that touched his lips held one part amusement, one part sarcasm. “The sexual attraction between us has nothing to do with death, but everything to do with life.” Stunned by his proclamation, her gaze darted to his mouth, and then back to his eyes. In one breath-stealing moment, she felt and heard everything going on between them. His chest rose and fell, the heat of his body called to hers. Warmth stole into her face and then slowly flowed like liquid down to her breasts. Her nipples tingled, and the sensation joined up with the crazy tumbling arousal igniting between her legs. Whether she wanted it or not, his closeness and the conflict between them fired to life her womanly needs and instincts.

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She licked her lips and took a slow breath. “Why are you telling me this? What’s the point?” “Because we need to clear the air. You’re frightened and that’s understandable. Your best friend has just had the shit beat out of her by some crazy bastard. You’re angry and you aren’t thinking clearly.” “I’m angry because you’re using he-man tactics on me.” “So that you’ll pay attention.” He took a deep breath, but the tension bristling from him continued to give him an unrelenting edge. “Because I guarantee if I wanted you dead, it would take me a few seconds, no more.” “That’s supposed to reassure me?” “Hell, no.” He tilted his head to the side. “Jesus, you’re hardheaded.” “And you’re not?” The heat in his eyes simmered with anger and yet she saw more there…more than a desire to teach her a lesson. “What I really want to do and what I’m going to do are two different things.” She waited, hanging by a thread of anticipation. “What do you want to do?” Her voice sounded thready and breathless, but she couldn’t change how her heart pounded and her body betrayed her determination to stay neutral around him. His voice went soft and husky. “I want to kiss you long and hard until you can’t think about anything but fucking me. That’s what I want to do.” Kiley couldn’t help her swift intact of breath. Her face went hot at the carnal image that dropped into her mind within a second. Scott’s mouth on hers, his arms around her, his cock plowing into her aching pussy, the danger of the elevator door opening— The sheer, appalling audacity of the man. It pissed her off. “What kind of sick—” “Shut up and listen to me, Kiley,” he growled, his face so near she could feel his warm breath on her face. “Shut up and listen for once. I’m not going to hurt you.” He gentled his tone. “We’re not going to sleep together.” We’re not? Oh, shit. I’m losing it. Losing it big time. “I just want you to be careful, to pay attention to your surroundings. I understand what you’re going through.” She looked into his eyes and saw understanding and something far deeper than she expected. His inky black eyelashes gave his eyes a mysterious frame that intrigued her. Kiley saw things she’d never noticed about Scott before. A small, almost invisible scar bisected his chin, as if it had been split right from his lip down to his neck in some horrible accident or fight. More than anything, she felt safe in a strange, glorious way. Against all common sense, she enjoyed the hard, male press of his body so close. “So talk,” she said, daring to stare into his eyes.

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“I knew a woman called Tina once…a good friend. Actually, she was more than a good friend. We were engaged. She was raped and tortured one night while I was on a mission in the Middle East. She was four months pregnant with my child.” She drew in a sharp breath, pained and surprised. “I’m sorry. But what has that to do with—” “She miscarried our baby the night she was attacked.” Scott didn’t flinch, didn’t move, but she saw the grief in his eyes…as if someone had slapped him across the face as hard as they could. “They never caught the guy who raped her, but after that she wasn’t the same. She didn’t want me to touch her. Not even casually. This went on for several months until one day she told me she was leaving me. She cursed me for never being there for her. For not being there the night the scum who raped her got into our house. Then she told me it was all just as well. She hadn’t wanted our child anyway.” He looked at the floor. “She was glad she’d miscarried.” That capped it. If he searched for a way to break her, he seemed to have found it. Tears spilled from her eyes. Anger, though, still coursed through her blood. “Why are you telling me this?” “Because I want you to understand why I can’t leave you alone.” Scott stepped back, but he cupped her shoulders. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m very protective of women. I always have been, but since Tina was raped, it’s been a driving force within me. If you’re in danger, and I think you are, I’m not leaving you at anyone’s mercy.” Then, to Kiley’s utter surprise, he cupped her face and tenderly wiped the tears away with his thumbs. His gaze intensified. Then, as if he couldn’t take it any longer, he leaned in and kissed her softly. She drew in a sharp breath, her lips parting. She didn’t expect it, didn’t know how to respond. Her hands clasped his forearms, but she didn’t try to pull his hands away from her face. Warm and tender, his mouth took hers with the most exquisite kiss. Brushing, tasting, it didn’t intrude, it didn’t take. Instead his kiss fell upon her senses like a gift. Yet when he drew back literally only a few seconds after their lips touched, she felt as if he’d ventured deeper. As if he’d touched her soul in some ethereal way she’d never experienced before. His gaze locked with hers, his nostrils flared. She saw it in his eyes. He wanted more. A hell of lot more. If the soft, aching pulsation between her legs meant anything, she yearned for a lengthier, more involved encounter as well. The emergency telephone rang. Before she could speak, Scott turned away, opened the box and reached for the phone. “Yeah,” he said into the red phone. He punched the red button so the elevator started moving again. “It seems to be working again.”

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He hung up the phone, his smile sly. And as the elevator continued its journey, Kiley had only one thought in mind. She might not be at a stranger’s mercy, but was she safe from this man? And did she want to be? Her body ached with an unfulfilled hunger brought on by his blunt assessment of their relationship and the most gentle kiss she’d ever received. I want to kiss you long and hard until you can’t think about anything but fucking me. Well, he’d accomplished that all right. She couldn’t get the proclamation out of her head.

***** Cold air tickled Kiley awake. The hard, cold surface beneath her cheek reminded her of where she’d fallen asleep. The hospital cafeteria. A warm hand on her shoulder jolted her completely out of dreamland. “Kiley?” A rich, familiar voice whispered close. She sat up, blinking in the intense light. She shaded her eyes and groaned. Her body ached in every filament. Punishment, Kiley guessed, for falling asleep slumped over a table and sitting in a hard chair. The chair creaked next to her. Disoriented, she wondered if she might be dreaming. “Kiley? You okay?” The softness of Scott’s voice whittled away her limited defenses. So she said the one thing no one expected you to say when asked such a question. “No.” She took her hands away from her face. His dark gold hair looked as tidy as it had earlier, pulled back. The shadow of a dark beard growing on his jaw told her he hadn’t gone home to clean up. Sliding the chair forward, he leaned an arm on the table and the other along the back of her chair. “How do you feel?” Kiley tucked her hair behind her ears. “My best friend is lying in this hospital fighting for her life. How would you feel?” He reached out and lifted her chin. “Now isn’t the time for our usual amusing banter.” Releasing her chin, he brushed her stubborn hair back. “What can I do to help you?” She didn’t expect the sympathy in his eyes or the warm tone, but nothing during the last two days made sense. “Don’t try to get me to go home.” “I think I got the message loud and clear a few hours ago.” “Good. Any word on Susan?” When Scott didn’t say anything, fresh anxiety gripped her heart. Like the first viewing of a terrifying movie, his silence put her on the edge of her seat and ready to bolt. “Tell me.” 58

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“The concussion is more serious than they first thought. She has lacerations, bruises, and a broken rib. Her larynx is swelling and they’re worried about it infringing on her air supply.” For what seemed the twentieth time in twenty-four hours, tears surged into her eyes. “She wasn’t…he didn’t rape her, did he?” A muscle in Scott’s jaw twitched, as if he might be clenching his teeth. “No. No evidence of rape.” “Thank God.” She blinked, trying to clear the last remnants of sleep. “She’s been out so long. That can’t be good.” He glanced at his watch. “About ten hours now.” “How long have you known her condition?” “Only two hours. The cafeteria staff didn’t have the heart to wake you.” A wry smile flew over his lips and then disappeared. “They figured if all the coffee you drank didn’t keep you awake, and the noise around here didn’t wake you up, then you really needed the sleep.” A smidgen of amusement rippled through her. Kiley couldn’t smile, though. Grinning would be a sacrilege. She wouldn’t smile again until she knew Susan was out of danger. “Where’s Travis?” she asked. “He’s with her in ICU. Do you think he could have done this to her?” She sighed and jammed a hand through her hair, and the knots in it made her grimace. “It crossed my mind. But, no. I don’t think so.” “The police are keeping tight lips, but I didn’t get the impression they thought so either.” “How would you know?” “I talked to a friend on the force. He filled me in.” “You really are a mystery man. You surprise me every time I turn around.” Scott’s straight face told her nothing. But the husky tone in his voice gave her a delicate, almost delicious shiver all out of proportion to the words and the gravity of the situation. “Is that a bad thing?” She shifted on the chair, her butt nearly numb. “It’s not bad or good. It just is.” “Remind me to laminate that. I’ll keep it in my wallet.” “I thought we weren’t going to banter.” He leaned forward again, lowering his voice so it slid over her with a silky, deep sound. “You started it.” Kiley stood and stretched, eager to escape the odd blend of fear and attraction she experienced whenever he came near her. Besides, she had no business experiencing arousal and attraction to this man with Susan still in danger.

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“Why don’t I take you home now?” he asked suddenly, also standing. “You could get some more sleep—” “No.” She said the word so loud a couple of people turned to look at her. She softened her voice. “No. I want to be here if anything—” “Susan’s safe. The police have stationed a man outside ICU.” Startled, she peered at him. “They think someone would come in the hospital and…” “It’s a precaution.” The temptation to cry for her friend almost overwhelmed Kiley. Drawing a deep breath, she said shakily, “You don’t need to wait around here any longer. You must be tired and need to get on with your life—” “Have you listened to anything I’ve said to you lately?” “I know, I know. You think I need protection. How is it you think I need ‘round the clock protection and the police don’t?” Scott shrugged. “I have experience with this type of situation.” She sank back into her chair. “What are you talking about?” He returned to his chair, perching on the edge. “You remember me talking about Tina?” Kiley nodded. “Of course.” “Tina received hundreds of threatening phone calls from the pervert who intended to rape her. An unusual MO for a rapist, from what I understand. She got these calls after I’d gone on the mission to the Middle East.” The hair along her arms prickled. “You think the person calling me is a rapist?” “It’s doubtful, but we have to look at every angle. If he’s the one who beat Susan, he’s a nasty bastard.” She didn’t want to ruminate on the implications. “Tina didn’t tell you about the calls?” “She never told me…didn’t try to send a message through to me. She thought she could handle everything, no matter what it was. I might have taken compassionate leave from my duties to be with her, but she didn’t tell anyone about the calls until it was too late. She’s a very stubborn and independent woman.” Kiley crossed her arms and leaned away from him, acutely aware of his proximity. “I thought the job was all with you guys. You know…if the Army had wanted you to have a wife—” “Yeah. But it wasn’t that way with me.” Curiosity made her step out on a ledge. “You were going to marry her, right?” “We’d set a December date. We never got that far.” She looked at the floor, unable to think straight with his intense gaze latched onto her. Scott Danger in love and ready to marry. She just couldn’t see it. His eyes were too 60

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cool, his demeanor too forbidding most of the time. What kind of woman could fall in love with a man like this? She might have to be insane or stupid, or both. Oh, Kiley could understand a woman wanting him. She’d never met a man who crackled with such sexuality until she encountered Scott. This virile, big, strong man exuded a razor-sharp masculinity. She sensed the animal in him and witnessed the beast in action. Protecting her from Meyers had been an example. She responded to his touch like a female in heat, a woman unable to control the lust coursing through her veins. Last night…God, was it morning already? Last night he’d shown her in the elevator. Yet when he’d touched her…brushed her tears away… God, Kiley. Now is not the time to indulge in wild sexual fantasies. “Tell me more,” she said. Scott leaned back, giving her a sense of relief and insecurity all at the same time. “I didn’t find out she’d been attacked until I got back from the mission. Three weeks after it happened.” Remembered anger etched into his face like graffiti. “She did such a great job of hiding what had happened that when she told me…the night I got home, I was so angry I could have put my fist through a wall.” “But you didn’t.” “No.” A trickle of reluctant admiration welled in her. “Have you ever put your fist through a wall?” “No.” He sighed. “But that’s not important right now. Your safety is.” “And how do you propose I stay safe?” Scott started to speak but she put her hand up. “No. No. Let me guess. You want to be my own personal bodyguard.” Before he could answer, Travis arrived at their table. She stood, almost upsetting her chair. Scott also rose to his feet, his expression grim. Travis’ pale face and frown made her fear the worst. “How is she?” she asked, her voice sounding raspy to her own ears. Travis sighed. “No change. The doctors don’t know when she’ll regain consciousness.” He put his hand on her shoulder, and the weight of it felt like lead. “Why don’t you go on home? This has been an ordeal for you too. You won’t do her any good by getting sick.” “I’ll stay.” She saw Scott glance at Travis as if to say he would be towing a wagonload of rocks up a hill if he expected her to relent. “She doesn’t have anyone else but us, Travis. I want to see her.” He didn’t put up a fight. He nodded and headed out of the cafeteria, and she followed. “Don’t even think it,” Scott said as he walked alongside of her. “What? You’re into reading minds now?” “I’m not leaving you. And when you go home I’ll be with you then too.”

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Fear returned, but Kiley jammed it back where it belonged. His conviction fascinated her, maddened her, and soothed her. Instead of responding to Scott’s demands, she turned to a safer, though no less frightening subject. “Susan doesn’t know how to defend herself. She wasn’t…isn’t trained in selfdefense like me,” she whispered. “The trash who did this to her could have overpowered you, Kiley. I’ve seen those kinds of injuries before. They were inflicted with his bare hands. He is very strong. Trained to kill.” Then she recalled Scott’s assertions earlier that he could overpower her and kill her within seconds. That he understood what it would take to hurt Susan so badly unnerved her in a thousand ways. She imagined Scott’s strength applied to her neck. Utilized to hurt her. She shivered violently. Black swells of memory threatened to open like the maw of a great predator. Barclay’s rough hands. She shoved the memories down with force. No. Susan needed her now. Her own neurosis would have to stay on hold. “Why didn’t he kill her?” she asked. “What kept him from going the final mile?” If he knew the answer, he didn’t say.

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Chapter Six “You did what?” Gregory Thorson sat straight up in his recliner. He felt his blood pressure surge and his face fill with red-hot anger. “You did what?” The killing machine sat across from him, covering a delicate chair with his bulky form. Thorson didn’t know whether to pull the gun out of the middle drawer and shoot the bastard right now, or wait until he could hire someone else to do it. “I sent the little bitch a message,” the machine said. Thorson settled into his chair, regaining some reason. “By almost killing her friend? How is that supposed to be a message to Kiley?” “She’s probably as confused as a rabbit in a rat’s hole right now.” The killing machine shrugged his massive shoulders. “She won’t be on guard. She’s too shaken up about her friend.” Thorson let the smile spread across his lips, and it felt tight. Stretched. He supposed that was because he didn’t smile much. When he did, people knew they were screwed and screwed well. Nothing charming or delightful in that. “I see.” Thorson cleared his throat and reached for the humidor on his desk. He flipped it open and extracted a cigar. Good thing he had the money to import these luscious, long, sinful sticks. He didn’t think he could let a day go by without one. “Cigar? They’re the very best.” The machine sniffed. Thorson would have laughed at the snotty, almost effeminate gesture if anybody else sat in front of him. He lit the cigar and puffed. “Nasty habit, smoking,” the killing machine said. Thorson almost threw the cylinder of tobacco away. Then he remembered he called the shots. “But it’s my filthy, nasty habit.” He blew a ring of smoke in the air, and then another and another until the killing machine’s eyes started to glaze over. “When do you plan to visit dear Kiley? Everything is ready on my end. I just need you to deliver her to me.” The machine folded his hands in his lap. “Soon enough. Soon enough.”

***** “She’s sleeping,” Scott said into his cell phone as he stood in Kiley’s kitchen and poured coffee into a huge mug. He held the phone away from his ear when a string of curses filtered through the receiver. “I take it she won’t be going in to work tomorrow,” Reginald Chapman said over the phone. “You won’t let her.”

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“Exactly. But she’s not easy to persuade.” “Persuade her. Bribe her if you have to. My niece will not be hurt by that unmitigated bastard.” Chapman’s voice held a thick, desperate tone. “If I have to pay you double—” “I don’t need more money, Mr. Chapman. My skill level doesn’t rise with the amount of paycheck I receive.” Dead air made Scott wonder if Chapman had hung up. Finally the man cleared his throat. “I need to know you will do everything in your power to keep her safe.” Scott bit back a retort. He was sick of Chapman’s need for assurance. “Do you trust Mrs. Taggert?” “Implicitly.” “Mrs. Taggert told me how important Kiley is to her. Mrs. Taggert trusts me with Kiley’s life. That will have to be good enough for you.” He knew he pushed the edge with this man, and for all he knew, this assignment might hang in the balance. If he screwed the pooch this time, he could probably kiss his career goodbye. “Very well,” Chapman said. After Chapman hung up, Scott followed suit, imagining Kiley’s anger if she knew he’d called her uncle. He’d already phoned Mrs. Taggert, and she in turn gave him valuable information on Thorson. Apparently Thorson had moved into a large, ultramodern house on the south side of Denver three months ago. Mrs. Taggert had sent a bodyguard out to recon the place. She’d get back to him if the guy found anything of use. After waiting at Susan’s bedside for another four hours, Kiley had yielded to Scott’s assertion that she needed to get some rest. When they’d arrived at her condo a few hours ago, she’d taken a shower, tried eating a sandwich, then decided watching TV might be better than making conversation with him. He wasn’t insulted. Grateful, maybe. Keeping her at arm’s length took significant willpower since the events of last night. Hell, after their encounter in the elevator he thought his hard-on would never go down. Kissing her seemed imperative. Telling her he wanted to fuck her might have been harsh, but it had slipped out of his mouth without forethought. If Mrs. Taggert ever found out what he’d said to Kiley, he was cooked shit on a stick. He did want her, and keeping his hands off her proved to be one of the hardest things he’d ever done. Scott moved away from the coffee pot and to the kitchen door. Sipping the strong liquid, he watched Kiley sleeping on the couch. He noticed the slow, rhythmic movement of her chest. Moving into the living room, he stopped at the couch and hovered over her. He took in her features with a hunger that caused heat to fill his groin again. Son of a bitch. He should have more control.

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She wasn’t perfect. Stubborn as a mule stuck in quicksand would about sum it up. He shouldn’t give a damn about her feelings or anything else related to her, other than keeping her safe. It was his job, and he would do it professionally. Instead, conflicting emotions battered him. Scott wished he could reassure Kiley that everything would be all right. But if Thorson was behind what had happened to Susan, things could get dicey fast. Scott cursed and decided to read a magazine. He wandered over to the large chair close to the fireplace and sank down. At least he didn’t feel like an elephant perching on a pinhead the way he did in so many small chairs. As he tried to get comfortable, he watched her. Screw the National Geographic magazine on the side table. Kiley’s full breasts strained against the navy T-shirt she’d thrown on when they’d returned to her condo. Jeans-clad legs sprawled apart, she looked vulnerable as sin. If she hadn’t needed sleep so much, and his ethics hadn’t been as strong, he would have knelt by the couch and tasted her lips. He contented himself with a fantasy, one that involved her wrapping her legs around his waist as he sank deep into her heat. The thought turned him hard as rock. Scott grimaced. Setting the mug on the table next to the chair, he scrubbed his hands over his face. So, he was tired, he’d been up over twenty-four hours, and even his military training couldn’t stave off exhaustion forever. He’d sleep right here, where he could keep watch. Anything would be better than enduring a raging hard-on over a woman he couldn’t…wouldn’t have… He drifted to sleep with images of Kiley warm, soft and naked in his arms. He woke an indefinable time later when she screamed. He bolted out of the chair, crouched and ready for anything. The room had darkened, but he could see clearly. When Scott took in the room, though, he saw no intruders. No one other than her, twisting on the couch, her features contorted by a nameless fear, eyes tightly closed. He went for the lamp next to the couch and snapped it on. He knelt by the couch and touched her arm gently. She jerked away, flailing, her hands and arms lashing out as she fought. “No, no, no, no!” “Kiley!” He grabbed her arms and held them, but she grappled with him, her eyes wide but not seeing reality. “Kiley, it’s all right! It’s just a dream. Wake up.” She wrested her arms from his grip and swung at him, clipping him with a right cross. It barely glanced off his chin as he yanked away. He felt the sting of flesh against flesh, but he ignored it as he caught her wrists. Kiley writhed like a possessed woman in a horror movie. She tore her wrists from his grip and flailed at him. He had one choice. He pulled her off the couch, trying not to dump her on the floor too forcefully. Scott pinned her down by straddling her hips and holding her wrists together. She bucked, but his weight kept her down.

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“Kiley, wake up!” Recognition came into her wide, frightened eyes. “Scott?” “It’s all right,” he said, injecting as soothing a tone as he could. He kept a firm grip on her wrists. “You had a very bad dream.” Indignation flooded her eyes and drew her lips into a tight line. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” “You were having a nightmare. When I tried to wake you up you came at me with fists and feet flying.” Kiley closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, he saw tears. When she’d cried for Susan his heart had done triple time and then flooded with a strange feeling he couldn’t recall having before. He reined in the desire to hold her close and stroke her…comfort her. Taste her until neither one of them could do anything but come together in a naked frenzy. Slowly Scott released her wrists, but he stayed straddling her. “You can get off me now. I promise not to kick your butt,” she said, looking entirely capable of doing just that. “Huh. You’re right. You would have done it already.” “Don’t be too sure. Now…get…off…me.” Reluctantly he moved off her soft, warm curves. Soft. No, that wasn’t it. Tough and gutsy and foolhardy were better descriptors. “On second thought, maybe you could beat the crap out of me.” As Scott stood, he reached for her arms and pulled her up. Kiley stumbled into him, and her breasts brushed against his chest. He sucked in a breath, aware of a deep stirring in his loins. As she gazed up at him, he set her away. “I think I hate you, Mr. Danger.” He crossed his arms. “I never said I was nice, and when you started swinging like a heavyweight boxer I thought you were going to hurt yourself.” She tilted her head to the side and crossed her arms too. “So you did what came naturally?” Huh. He wanted to put his mouth over hers. He inhaled, wishing his body had as much willpower as his logic. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Kiley winced as she took a step back and sank onto the couch. “I ache all over, but I think that’s from sleeping on this couch.” She stretched her arms over her head and yawned, and her T-shirt came away from her jeans. Her bare midriff tempted him. Shit, if she kept flashing skin at him, this wasn’t going to get any easier. Time to move away from thoughts of bodies entwined on the floor. He needed a neutral zone. “It’s five o’clock,” he said. “You want some dinner?” “I don’t feel like cooking.”

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“I’ll do it. I saw steak and potatoes and stuff for a salad in the fridge.” Her eyes flickered with distrust. “You’ve been rummaging around in my refrigerator?” Shrugging a shoulder he said, “A man’s gotta eat. Where do you think I found the coffee? You want some?” Yawning, she stood up and wobbled. Instinctively, he caught her arm. She jerked it away as if she’d been burned and headed for the kitchen. He followed. Kiley sat at the white, utilitarian kitchen table and drank coffee while he cooked. The large kitchen had all the latest appliances. A juicer and breadmaker sat in one corner of the counter, along with a blender, toaster, and a coffee and espresso maker. The refrigerator was void of magnets and notes…not even a grocery or reminder list. Everything looked spit shined. Dozens of plants hung from planters, nestled in corners, and crowded the area like a jungle. Kiley’s living room boasted tropical plants he didn’t realize would grow in the semi-arid environment. “This is a huge condo,” he said, deciding he couldn’t stand the silence any longer. He enjoyed solitude and lack of people to clutter up his life. With her, though, the quiet was tainted with disapproval. He must know what she was thinking. “Yes, it is,” she said, clearly not in the mood for small talk. Scott could feel her gaze boring a hole in his back, and yet he didn’t turn around. Guess it would be safe to say she’d never get the award for Miss Hospitality. He peeled and chopped, arranged and cooked for some time before she spoke again. “Your apartment is very small.” He grunted. “Thanks. I guess.” “That wasn’t a value judgment. Just an observation. I don’t remember anything else about it.” Once they’d left the hospital he’d stopped at his apartment to get essentials, and he’d rushed her inside, unwilling to leave her in the car by herself. “You were pretty tired.” The aroma of steaks cooking on a portable grill filled his nostrils, and his stomach growled. “You must have a green thumb.” “Only for house plants. I can’t grow a garden worth a damn.” “Why?” “Beats me. My mother was apparently the same way.” One corner of his mouth turned up. “Inherited gardening ability. Do you talk to your plants?” “Hell no.” “You don’t believe it helps?” “I don’t have time to talk to my plants.” As he wiped his hands on a paper towel, Scott turned around. The intense impact of her incredible eyes made his loins stir with desire. “What are you staring at?”

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“You,” she said without hesitation. “I was wondering if I’ve lost my mind for allowing you in my house. I was also wondering why a sane man would want to babysit a magazine editor.” Well, she’d caught him with his drawers down. Instead of answering, Scott turned back to the grill, flipping each steak over and watching the grease pop and snap. “Tell me about your dream.” He heard Kiley exhale. “It’s the same old dream.” Her statement made him turn to her once more. She shoved her right hand through the black sheen of her hair, exposing the white column of her throat. “A recurring dream?” he asked. She took a sip of her coffee before she answered. “I haven’t…I haven’t had it for a few years. I thought I’d never have it again.” Scott turned back to the steak, hearing the pain in her voice but not wanting to see it. “The trauma over Susan brought it up.” “I suppose.” “What’s the dream about? Maybe if you get it out in the open—” “I talked to a shrink for a year.” “It took a year for it to go away?” “Yes. I used to have it at least once a week. By that time I’d taken self-defense courses and finished college and that seemed to banish it. Until…now.” He turned back to her. “I’m sorry.” “We’ve all got scars.” She shrugged. “I don’t wear them on my sleeves for everyone to see.” Admiration stirred him, and he smiled. “You’re a very strong woman.” “I work out four times a week.” “No, I mean you’re very strong mentally.” “I’ve had to be.” Scott wanted to dig deep until he understood the woman he’d seen in the leatherbound album. To grasp why she’d worn a skunk stripe in her hair years ago. Instead he served up their meal. Kiley ate as if she hadn’t tasted food in a week. She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Thanks for making dinner.” Her soft praise made him pause in the act of spearing a piece of steak with his fork. “You’re welcome.” She drank more coffee before she asked, “So were you really born in Montana?” The question threw Scott, but he answered quickly enough. “Yes.” “Raised on a ranch?” He smiled slightly. “You think everyone in Montana is a cowboy?”

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She scoffed. “Of course not. I just got this picture of you on a horse with a cowboy hat and boots, wrestling a steer or something.” “You don’t wrestle a steer on a horse.” “Whatever.” He dished more salad onto his plate and opened a new bottle of Thousand Island dressing. She looked at the bottle as he put it down. “You men are all alike.” “What?” “You all like Thousand Island dressing and nothing else. What is it? A genetic deformity?” Scott chuckled. “Yeah, well, you know us big dumb old boys from Montana. We spend a lot of time dragging our knuckles on the ground.” Kiley snorted a laugh then started to giggle. He never would have expected a goofy sound like that coming out of her. Nope. A self-assured businesswoman didn’t shriek like a banshee over a stupid statement like his. It disarmed him more than any punch she could have thrown. He grinned, not willing to laugh with her, but enjoying her high voltage smile. His heart began to drum. “What’s the matter?” she said, gasping for breath as she struggled to stop laughing. “Never heard a woman laugh?” “Not quite like that.” She kept the grin. “Tell me the truth. Where did you grow up?” “Like I said, in Montana. Grew up in a small house outside Billings. My dad was a police officer and my mother was a homemaker. They adopted me when I was a baby.” “Adopted?” A calm, curious expression crossed her face. Kiley put down her fork. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” “Just my little sister Jessica. She was adopted too. She lives in Pueblo with her husband and three kids.” She sat back and crossed her arms. “Do you know who your real parents are?” “No.” “You’re not even curious?” He impaled a piece of lettuce with his fork. “What you see is what you get. I don’t need a pedigree.” She gazed at him steadily. “What?” he asked. “I was trying to picture you as an uncle.” “Do I pass muster?” Kiley shook her head. “I can’t see it.”

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A sharp sting pricked his ego. He gazed at the last of his baked potato and tried not to show how much the truth hurt. Scott loved his sister, his two nephews, and his niece, but he didn’t spend enough time with them. When he left this job he’d visit with them before he took to the hills and his cabin. As their gazes held, he wished Kiley wouldn’t look at him that way. The sensations running through his body gave a whole new meaning to horny. She broke eye contact. Relieved, he went back to eating. Several moments later she cleared her throat. “I want to go back to the hospital and see Susan.” “That’s not a good idea.” Her eyes filled with a hard, silver defiance. “Let’s get something straight. You may have this misguided idea that I need you, but I don’t.” Kiley stood and took her plate to the sink. She dumped the remnants of her dinner into the garbage disposal and turned it on. The crunching, growling sound of the disposal seemed to outline her anger. When she flicked it off, she rinsed the plate and put it in the sink. “And you’ve got to be loonier than a fruitcake if you think I’m going to stand by and let you waltz into my life and take over. If you think this is a way to get the magazine spread—” “I don’t give a damn about the magazine.” He shoved back his chair. “You can’t help her—” “I can sit by her bed and talk to her. I can let her know I’m there and that I care what happens—” “You can’t help her if you’re dead.” Kiley turned to him, her mouth open, and eyes wide. “What?” “You can’t help her if the man who attacked her comes after you. I need you to stay here until the bastard is caught.” “I’m not afraid.” “Yes, you are. You’re so damned afraid that you had a nightmare that you figured you’d never have again. Whatever happened to you years ago reared its ugly head. Am I right?” She said nothing, but Scott knew immediately he’d been too rough. Too controlling. What could he do? Tie her to a chair? He was damned lucky she hadn’t called the cops and told them he was harassing her. Sexually harassing her if she wanted to really spice up the charges. “I’m going to go do my yoga,” Kiley said softly, her eyes haunted and her face pale. Before he could apologize, she stalked from the room and headed toward the stairs.

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Chapter Seven As Kiley took a cab at seven o’clock the next morning, she watched with apathy as the streets flew by. Her inner world dominated her thoughts as she recalled Scott’s comments about her nightmare. She didn’t want to think about the dream’s new intrusion into her world. Acknowledging its existence meant the ugly problem had never disappeared. Post-traumatic stress disorder. Bullcrap. It wasn’t coming back. It wasn’t. She wouldn’t let it. Kiley thought she probably looked as horrible as she felt. She wore an old red sundress and scuffed white sandals. The day promised to scorch the earth. Scorching. Huh. Her thoughts filled with Scott’s kiss in the elevator, then how he’d felt when he taken her down to the floor. She’d almost reached up, almost tugged him down to feel those hard, carved lips on hers. A surge of lingering excitement seemed to pulsate out from her core every time she thought of him now. Damn him for kissing her. Once Kiley reached the hospital, she begged the hospital staff to let her in to see Susan. The nurse at the desk relented. She headed for Susan’s hospital bed, hating every moment. Kiley despised hospitals. Not because they smelled of antiseptic. Many of them didn’t have that bizarre scent anymore. She loathed the memories of seeing Gabriella’s bandaged face…the mummy-like appearance that swathes of gauze had given Gabriella’s once beautiful features. Now Susan suffered, and who knew if it could be because of Kiley. If the phone calls were related in some way— No. She wouldn’t think of it now. Kiley inhaled deeply. She should call her uncle. Later. Later when she could think clearly and after she stopped by her office. Yesterday she’d phoned her editorial assistant Bendick, and the part-time accountant Jackie to fill them in on what was happening. Bendick would hold court in the office while Kiley took care of business and looked after Susan. Jackie promised to help Bendick with secretarial duties. Also, after Kiley finished yoga last night, she’d worked at her computer on files for work then emailed them to the office. Anything to help get her mind off what had happened to Susan. Kiley stopped at the side of Susan’s bed, listening to the reassuring sound of the monitors…the beeps and clicks and murmuring of lifesaving machines. Dressings patched Susan here and there, giving her the appearance of a defeated boxer. The

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swelling on her face had gone down, but she now had two shiners. Kiley could almost hear Susan’s voice. It’ll take a shitload of under eye stick to get rid of this. She covered Susan’s hand with both of her own, pressing gently. “I’m here. I want you to know I’m not going to let anything else happen to you. There is a policewoman outside and she’s making sure everyone who comes in here is legit.” She sank onto the chair next to the bed. “I know you can hear me, Susan. You must get well. I need you back on the job keeping me organized.” Kiley stayed by the bed for twenty minutes, chatting as if Susan responded. A deep exhaustion eased over her. She left ICU shortly after. At the front of the hospital, lay a small garden area with some benches, so Kiley sank onto the cool wood and called her uncle. When he answered, she explained about the attack on Susan. Sounding clipped and efficient, he requested that she come to his offices. Although she didn’t feel like seeing him, she caught another cab. Kiley had suspicions she wanted to level at him and misgivings that made her so mad she could chew leather. She arrived in record time, and her uncle’s receptionist ushered her in without hesitation. Once Kiley slipped inside the large office, her uncle stood, pushing back his chair. The casters squeaked in protest. She was surprised—he never allowed anything to squawk or indicate disrepair. Even a hint of malfunction usually made him twitch. Perhaps he’d relaxed from the uptight, uncaring man she remembered. She could always hope. He strode around the desk and peered up at her as if he might be facing off with an Amazon. A good half-foot taller than her uncle, Kiley still owned a healthy respect for him. Then he reached for her, taking her in a warm embrace that surprised the hell out of her. He’d only hugged her once before, when she’d escaped from that stinking hole where Barclay had sequestered her. Her uncle spread his wealth around, assuming money equated with love. Kiley supposed he did care, even if he didn’t know how to show it. Before she could absorb his affection, however, he stepped back. She took a deep breath and laid it on the line. “He’s gone,” she said. “I dismissed him. He won’t be coming back.” “Who?” “Scott Danger. The bodyguard you tried to hide in plain sight. I slipped out of the house early this morning so he wouldn’t catch me going to the hospital.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said as he put the barrier of his desk between them. “It took me longer than it should have to realize Mr. Danger is a bodyguard. I left him a note. It tells him quite clearly that he can get the hell out of my life.” Her uncle’s eyes clouded with thunderstorm intensity. “I didn’t hire you a bodyguard.”

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Kiley grinned. “Yeah. Right.” He punched a button on his phone. “Jane, hold all my calls.” He got up and walked to a cabinet on the far wall. He poured himself a Scotch and then returned to the throne behind his desk. “I’d offer you one, but I know you’d refuse.” “I thought we had an understanding?” She shivered in the air-conditioned office. He always kept the place like an icebox during the summer. “After I got rid of that Martin guy, you said there wouldn’t be another bodyguard.” He sighed, placing his drink on the paper-littered desk in front of him. “Kiley, your mother and father would turn over in their graves right now if they knew I wasn’t taking care of you.” “I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I’m an adult.” “I only did this because I knew how you’d react if I suggested another bodyguard be assigned to you!” “Do not yell at me,” she said harshly. He’d yelled often and long several times in her life. The last time happened after her father died. She’d been devastated by his death, but she always thought her uncle more appalled by his brother’s method of death than his actual demise. Kiley could tell by the way his round jaw hardened that he gritted his teeth. “I will yell when and where I choose, young lady.” Maybe she would laugh. He was talking to her as if she was a teenager rather than a thirty-year-old woman. “Damn!” He picked up the phone, apparently willing to drop the charade. “Mrs. Taggert has some explaining to do. She told me Danger was her best damned bodyguard. This is absurd.” Kiley sprung up and put her hand over the keypad. “I don’t want him to suffer any reprisal for this.” She wouldn’t tell him the reasons she wanted Scott Danger out of her life. Sure, she didn’t want a bodyguard. But she also feared her own libido. Scott’s hot, sultry looks set her on fire. Her uncle slammed the receiver down so hard it sounded as if the plastic might crack. “I’ll make sure he never works in this city as a bodyguard. I’ll have him—” “Stop it!” She held her hands up. “Just stop.” “Kiley—” “I won’t let you do this to him because of me. I won’t.” She headed for the door. “You don’t know what you’re saying.” She turned around before she reached the door. “I know exactly what I’m saying. This isn’t any of your business.” “What?” He walked toward her and they faced off almost toe-to-toe. “What is wrong with you? Why are you defending him?”

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She couldn’t answer that question. It required too much thought and energy. Energy that seemed to be slowly bleeding from her. “I won’t be in the office until Susan is out of danger. But I’m stopping by there before I head to the hospital.” His brows drew together. “You can’t wander around this city without protection. Don’t you understand how dangerous it is?” “No, Uncle, I don’t. So why don’t you tell me? Tell me why you think I’m in danger.” He sighed. “Thorson called last week and said he would make me regret I ever lived. He said he’d hurt those I love.” To her amazement, his bottom lip trembled. “You’re the only one I have left, Kiley.” The impact of his words hit her. Love. Had her uncle just admitted feelings for her? A lump grew tight in Kiley’s throat, the ache like a sore throat. No. She wouldn’t speculate. Far safer to continue with the subject at hand. “I know you think Thorson was behind Barclay’s attack on me, Uncle. But there’s no proof. Never has been. The police think Barclay was a degenerate nut case. You can’t keep trying to protect me from the outside world.” He huffed. “Please. Do not patronize me, my dear. You are a rich young woman. You have always been in danger of kidnapping by crazies wanting money. I know you have common sense and a strong exterior. But Thorson is more dangerous than any man you have met. You cannot underestimate him.” A few days ago, before she’d met Scott, she might have agreed with him. Thinking about how angry Scott would be when he discovered she’d slipped out of the house almost made her smile. Kiley snapped back to reality. “I know Thorson is a major creep.” “He’s a murderer, Kiley. You need protection.” “Think about it this way, Uncle. If Scott Danger is such a damn good bodyguard, why was it so easy for me to slip away? Do you really want a man like that protecting me? Obviously he’s not up to the job.” He didn’t take long to consider. “No. But I trusted Mrs. Taggert’s judgment. She doesn’t make mistakes about her personnel.” “She made a mistake with Martin, didn’t she?” “How was she to know the man would get a crush on you? She could not predict that.” He had her there. “Bendick can take care of the magazine while I’m off.” Kiley sighed, her knees weak as linguini. “He’s trained for it. I’ll do some work on my home computer. Besides, I’m not indispensable. I never was.” He nodded. “All right. I can see I won’t get anywhere with you.”

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She rubbed her arms as goose bumps popped up. The room felt too cold emotionally and physically. She reached for the doorknob again. “Don’t say anything to Mrs. Taggert. I’ll call her myself.” “Kiley—” “Please, Uncle.” He nodded, and Kiley left without another word.

***** As she stepped out of her uncle’s huge building and into the sunlight, Kiley decided a short walk might clear the stuffy feeling in her head. After glancing in a few shop windows, she’d head to Genero’s and retrieved her car. She needed time to feel more like a normal, everyday person. A cold drink and rest would cure her nagging sense of unreality. Heat and humidity clung to her sundress, making her feel worse. Her watch read ten o’clock. Thank God her meeting with her uncle was over, and she was rid of Scott Danger. No more incredibly sexy bodyguard mucking up her life. As soon as she reached the magazine she’d call Mrs. Taggert and ask her not to fire Scott because of her. She didn’t want that on her conscience too. As she walked along, the sun beat down on her head, and Kiley almost wished rain would come. The unseasonable heat would chill under another good storm. Kiley didn’t know how long she’d walked before her feet protested. Sandals like these didn’t work well for “shopping-until-you-drop”. She’d take her aching feet to the office and then back to Susan. She turned around swiftly. And ran smack into Scott Danger. “Oof.” The air rushed out of her as their bodies came together, and she released a gasp. His big hands gripped her arms. “What the—” she started. “Don’t say it,” he muttered, his voice deep, hot, and irate. His hair fell about his shoulders in a wild tumble. His jaw was clean-shaven, and he smelled spicy and warm. The antagonism in his eyes, though, made her step out of his grip. Scott took hold of her upper arm and marched her back toward her uncle’s building. “Let me go,” she said. “Not on your life.” “I’ll scream.” “Go ahead.” She trotted to keep up with his long-legged stride. “Would you slow down?” “We’re heading for the parking garage.” He threw her an icy green glance. “Then we’re going to your place and you can explain to me why you ran off this morning.”

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“Because I had better things to do than sit around like a little damsel in distress. I went to see Susan and then my uncle.” “I know. I’ve been following you.” Her mouth dropped open in surprise. “When I left the house you weren’t following me.” “I heard you take off. And I caught up with you at the hospital. I’ve been watching you ever since.” “Right,” she said doubtfully. “I saw you get a cup of coffee at the cafeteria and take exactly four sips before throwing it out. I saw how you looked in the window of the lingerie shop.” Amazement shot through her and froze her blood. He had followed her without her being the least aware. Scott’s gaze softened. “Kiley, if I can follow you without you knowing it, imagine what one of Thorson’s henchmen could do.” Humiliated because he’d gotten the best of her, and stunned by the truth, she didn’t know what to say. Kiley saw the black limousine coming down the street about the same time he did, but his reaction took her by surprise. Scott yanked her into the alley next to them and ran. She stumbled over a trashcan and sent the metal nuisance flying. She cursed under her breath, gritting her teeth against the pain. Deep inside the alley he stopped. She pulled against his hand. “What the hell are you—” “Quiet.” His hand clamped over her mouth as Scott wrapped an arm about her waist and brought her against his body. She gasped, surprise rolling through her stomach. Damn if she wasn’t having déjà vu. He looked down the alley toward the street, his mouth drawn tight. Kiley experienced every inch of his hard muscles with intimate detail. His hips rammed her stomach, and a funny ache throbbed where he squashed her. Though he wasn’t hurting her, his chest mashed her breasts. Oh, hell. That felt way too…intimate. Exciting in a deep, primordial way she couldn’t stop. She shifted against him in protest, a sound echoing from her throat. The scent of threat seeped into her pores. She shivered against him. For what seemed an eternity, he trapped her like an insect on flypaper. Suddenly Scott removed his hand from her mouth and his arm from about her waist. She staggered back a step and came up against a brick wall. She licked her lips. “What—” “Thorson’s limo was coming down the street.”

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“How do you know it was his limo?” “The license plate. Stay put.” He walked to the edge of the alley and scanned the area, then came back to her. “It’s clear. I don’t think he saw us.” Kiley started around him. “Then I can leave.” He grabbed her arm. “No.” She backed out of his grip and came up against the wall again. Residual anger broke forth. “I suppose you found the note I left you telling you that I wouldn’t need your help any longer?” Scott glared. This man had the facial expression down to a science. He could scare puppies and little babies. He could frighten her, if she let him. “Cat got your tongue?” she asked. He took a step forward. “You deserve a good—” “Spanking?” If he was shocked by her word choice, he didn’t show it. Instead Scott took another step toward her, until he almost touched her, and Kiley was forced to tilt her head back to look at him. He put his palms down on the wall next to her about shoulder height. “Something much worse. I’m taking you out of here, and you’re not going to give me trouble.” “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re fired.” “Your uncle hasn’t fired me.” “I have.” “You don’t pay the bills, sweet thing.” Sweet thing. Barclay had called her that all the time. She hated it. Hated it. Hated it. Kiley didn’t care for his Neanderthal attitude. Pissed, she pushed with both hands against his chest. It didn’t budge him. “Don’t call me that again. I ought to kick you in the balls.” “But you won’t.” “You just expect me to go along with this shit without question?” “For the moment.” “A woman could get bruised being around you.” “Better bruised than dead.” Though light wedged its way into the alley, the darkness still hung here, cloaking Kiley like a shroud. Fear warred with a primitive feeling she couldn’t ignore. Somehow, despite his barbarism, she knew he would shelter her against any threat. She could trust him with her life. Rallying against the flutter deep in her belly, she said, “Well, don’t do me no favors.”

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He grunted. “Sounds like a line from an old movie.” “Lethal Weapon.” “What?” “Lethal Weapon. Danny Glover says to Mel Gibson—” “Yeah, I remember.” His gaze focused on her mouth, and suddenly the air changed. Like a lightning bolt it hit Kiley, hot and fierce and unprecedented. His heart beating against her fingers, and the rise and fall of his breathing called to her body in a rhythm that recognized him as all man. Her heart pounded, her body aflame as he pressed his chest and hips closer. Closer yet. His erect cock pressed her belly, and she opened her mouth to— What? Protest that their encounter apparently turned him on? She had to acknowledge the deep, insistent ache that centered high up in her pussy, the relentless tingling that built within her clit. Her nipples tightened into sensitive buds. She squirmed against him the tiniest bit, and a breath hissed between his lips. When she looked up into his fire-intense eyes, she saw one thing. He wanted to kiss her. Or kill her. She wasn’t sure. “You’re the most exasperating woman I’ve ever met. A true pain in the ass.” “If you dislike me so much, why are you holding me so close?” His emerald eyes sparkled with an overwhelming passion that called to her on levels she didn’t understand and had never encountered. “Who said that I dislike you?” “You said I was a pain.” His mouth turned up for a second in a quick show of amusement. “Yeah. But you’re more than that. There’s something about you that fascinates me.” She didn’t know what to say. In fact, his clear admiration and his honesty threw her off guard. “The question is, why do you hate me?” Scott asked, his voice husky and soft. She licked her lips, and his gaze landed on her mouth. “Why do you care?” “I care because you’re under my protection. I made a big mistake letting you out of my sight, and I won’t make it again.” He traced the side of her neck with his index finger, and the shock trembled through Kiley like a mini earthquake. “You may think I’m a cold-hearted son of a bitch, but I’m damned good at my job. Your uncle paid me to protect you, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

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Caught between a fierce blazing anger, and the sensation that something hot and unbidden flared between them, she took a deep breath. His eyes turned wolf on her. Mysterious. His gaze took in everything about her, and she could have sworn he could read her mind. Lord, he ought to bottle it and sell it. He could make a fortune seducing women with that look. “What do you care about?” she asked. “Winning the next verbal battle? Making your point?” Scott dropped his hand back onto the wall. One corner of his wide mouth turned up, and Kiley pinpointed her stare onto the spot, unable to look away. “I haven’t made many points with you.” Her gaze flicked to his again. “Try Andrea in the magazine accounting office. She’s single, available, and not as picky as I am.” “Picky? About what?” “The men she sleeps with.” With his other hand, he touched the hollow of her throat. She sucked in a slow breath as the heat from that delicate, single touch spilled hot across her skin. “What kind of men do you sleep with, Kiley?” She rallied against the arousal tightening with hot coils inside her. She sighed. “You’re crude, you know that?” “Add rude and lewd and you’ve got all the clichés down.” She made a scoffing noise in her throat and pushed against his chest again. When her fingers landed on his hard torso, the sensation tantalized Kiley as nothing had in a long time. She imagined Scott’s chest and powerful arms naked for her touch. Dark hair peeked from the open collar of his shirt. Did he have a hairy chest, or did that bit of masculinity tease her unnecessarily? Blond head. Dark chest hair. A delicious combination. Almost against her will, her hand smoothed over his red polo shirt. She wanted him bare under her exploration, and the realization startled her. He tilted her chin until she gazed up at him. She quivered under his gentle touch as his hand came up and caressed her cheek. “You sure as hell don’t want rescuing.” Her throat felt dry and aching with tension. “I never said I wanted to be rescued.” “You wanted a hero for your magazine article. Instead you got involved with something a hell of a lot nastier than you expected. Now you’re in over your head and you don’t want help when it’s right here in front of you. Isn’t that a little twisted?” “A little twisted is us in this alley having a conversation like we’re on Park Avenue or something. Can we get out of here?” “Not until we get a few things straight. You aren’t going anywhere without me from now on, is that understood? I’m glued to your hip.” “But—”

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“You aren’t to put one pretty, painted toenail out the door unless I tell you.” “For your information, I don’t paint my toenails. For a hotshot you sure aren’t very observant.” His brows drew together and his mouth dropped open. She almost smiled. It felt good to see this big, confident man lose street audacity. Scott looked down at her short hemline and took in the length of her bare legs and her sandal-shod feet with a long, hungry perusal. His salacious grin set warmth into her belly that burned steady. His fingers traced over her throat again and into the hair at the back of her neck and her eyes almost closed at the exquisite sensation. “Forgive me,” he said. “You’re not to put one beautiful, naked leg, or toe, outside a door without me going first. Got that?” She simmered, but not from anger. Did this man realize what he did to her? She didn’t seem to have control over her reactions to him and her frustration level escalated. “Okay, that’s enough. I’ve got enough material for the entire hero article just from the last two days,” she said. “The magazine spread is yours. Jackson Cole can kiss it goodbye.” “You think getting a dumb-assed magazine spread changes anything? Do you think I’m not serious?” “No, Mr. Danger.” “Would you please just call me Scott? You called me Scott before. Why is it so hard for you?” His voice went soft and husky. Intimate. It reminded her of last night when he’d gazed at her over the dinner table and tried to stare her down. He’d won the battle then because she couldn’t handle the crystal warmth in his eyes that knocked her breath away. Scott was right, though. She had broken down more than once and called him by his first name. But that didn’t mean she would continue in the same vein. “This isn’t the fifties. I’m not Ozzie and you sure as hell aren’t Harriet. You can call me by my first name.” Scott shifted. “Great. We’re standing in a stinking, grimy alleyway discussing movies and television shows.” He shrugged. “All in a day’s work. You should see what I was doing last week.” “You hole up in alleys with women every day?” That smile came across his face and stupefied her. God, didn’t the man know his grin gave off megawatts of virile charm? “Only with beautiful women with stubborn mouths they can’t keep shut.” “That’s a first. I don’t think I’ve ever been complimented and insulted in the same breath.” “Call me Scott,” he said huskily.

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He could do what he liked with her, to her and at her. She wouldn’t budge on this item. “Bite me.” He angled his head closer, his breath warm on her face. Sensual heat rolled through Kiley. “That can be arranged.” She swallowed hard. “I don’t think so, Mr. Danger.” “You even call your enemies by their first names.” “If I want to call you Rumpelstiltskin or Harry Houdini, I will. Or maybe you don’t like strong women with a mind of their own.” “Yeah, right. My boss for the last few years is a woman, and I don’t have a problem taking orders from her. She knows what she’s doing which is a lot more than I can say for you. Why are you so determined to fight me?” “Because you’re pushy and stubborn and—” “Jesus,” he muttered. “And don’t curse.” “What? Real heroes don’t curse?” “Well, at least they don’t have gutter mouths.” “Gutter mouth? Who has a gutter mouth?” “You’ve done a hell of a lot of cursing in the last few hours.” “Yeah, more than I’ve done in months. And you know why? You. You’re a pain in the ass,” he gritted out, his eyes blazing. “And you have nothing to talk about. I’ve never heard a woman curse as much as you.” Inexplicably, tears of anger surged into Kiley’s eyes. Damn it. Double damn it. More than anything she wished her worst anger would come out in shouting, or anything but tears. All her life she fought this propensity, and she hated that it reared its head now, in front of this man. “Back off,” she said, her voice sounding raspy to her own ears. “What?” “I said…back away from me.” Scott’s hands went to her waist. The heat of his fingers made her jump, his touch sparkling in Kiley’s blood like little electrical jolts. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice tinged with a strange tenderness. He slipped his hands up to her shoulders, smoothing her skin with a gentle caress. “I’m not usually this…what you do to me is unreal—” “What I do to you?” “I can’t keep my hands off you. Can’t stop wanting to touch you.” His gaze went lambent, filled with a craving so carnal she felt its touch through her skin, in every sinew, every bone. Amazed at his admiration, she also found deep satisfaction in knowing she could move him to such heights. Whether she wanted to or not, she loved and hated his attention. 81

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Her anger disappeared as if the last few minutes had never happened. Heaven help her, this man was unbearably sexy. When he turned on the soft gaze and husky tone, her heart increased to ramjet speed. When he looked at her like he wanted to kiss her, to do more, she lost control, lost the anger she needed to keep him at a distance. Smooth and without force, Scott slid his arms around her waist, bringing her against his body again. She left her hands on his chest, stunned. Thumping like two instruments beating a wild song, her pulse and her heart danced in her chest until she felt dizzy. His thick, fully erect cock pushed against her stomach. Oh, yes. No doubt he wanted her. Her nipples tingled, moisture gathering between her legs. She shifted her legs, wanting something to take away the ache building with tremendous force inside her. She needed more of his touch, more of his sensual caresses. As if on cue, his palms slid up and down her back, resting first on the bare skin at the top of her sundress, then lower to just above her ass. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly. “I’m mad as hell.” “You don’t look mad, you look unhappy. Like a girl whose doll just got broken.” “Don’t patronize me, Mr. Danger.” “Scott,” he said with a sexy drawl that made her stomach tremble. And she knew exactly what that sensation meant. “Why is it so important I call you by your first name?” Was Scott closer? His lips seemed not so far from hers now. “Because it sounds sexy coming from your mouth.” Suddenly he changed directions and his lips touched her right ear. Kiley gasped as pinwheels of excitement darted through her breasts and down into her stomach. Then she felt a tiny, almost featherlight sensation on her lobe. Oh. My. God. “What…what are you doing?” she gasped. “Biting you,” he whispered.

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Chapter Eight Kiley’s eyes closed as Scott gently nibbled her ear, then traced the lobe with his tongue. She gasped again and trembled in his arms, surprised by his action and her reaction. His cock pressed even tighter to her belly, and the long, thick bar of male sexuality made her shiver against him in delight. The world around her dissolved as sensations too exquisite to withstand raced across her body. She sank into another world, one populated by the two of them and no one else. The alley disappeared from her mind, until his touch stayed with her and became the center of her universe. His hands traced her back with caresses both bold and light. As her hands drifted over his shoulders, then slipped around his neck, one of his hands cupped her ass cheek. Sensations bombarded her. Gone was the smell of the alley…the traffic noise. Gone was all discord. Heat spiraled through her breasts and headed straight for her belly. It didn’t stop there but settled deep between her thighs and took up permanent residence. “Please,” she whispered, unsure why she pleaded. Before she could open her eyes, his lips trailed across her cheek and his mouth covered hers. Scott’s mouth moved over hers with ravenous attention, leaving out preliminaries. While her brain had tossed with chaos moments ago, now everything pinpointed down to this man’s body entangled with hers. His was so big, so wrapped around her. Never in Kiley’s life had she experienced a man’s powerful presence like this. She’d seen him move. Seen the strength that rippled through his body. Now she experienced the sexual, male animal within him seeking her…wanting her. She could have been frightened. Instead his arms felt protective, cherishing, cradling and wildly sexual. Every inch of his chest, hips, and his rock-hard thighs and cock pressed against her. Everywhere they touched sparklers of sensation burst through her body. Without restraint he thrust his tongue between her lips. She gasped, opening wider to his taste as he plunged his tongue in and out of her mouth in a blatant imitation of a far more intimate act. She clutched at his shirt as she responded, matching his erotic intrusion with an aggression of her own. Scott made a low groan in his throat that heightened her arousal, and she pushed her fingers into his thick hair, tangling in the long strands. She never thought a man with long hair could be so sexy. Until now.

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Somehow he knew how and when to generate heat, and at this moment she couldn’t resist him. The long length of his hair spilled over her forearms, and Kiley enjoyed the soft touch of it sliding along her skin. His hand slid up over her ribcage and cupped her right breast gently. She gasped into his mouth, and his tongue took advantage, opening, tasting, thrusting. She felt that primitive beat between her legs as hot arousal licked along her veins. Scott’s fingers brushed lightly over her nipple, and she moaned softly. Oh, God. Oh, yes, yes. His fingers came together, pinched, and tugged her nipple. She squirmed as fiery sensations darted into that captured flesh. His mouth trailed over her neck and pressed fiery, heated kisses to tender skin until he returned to her mouth. Gathering her close against his chest, he treated her to the most spine-melting kisses of her life, tasting her anew with every new stroke of his tongue and lips. Treacherous feelings surged inside her, adding to the fuel. And still his fingers teased her breast with sweet, gentle brushes. She realized that she wriggled in his hold, itching for a completion, hot and wet and needy between her legs. She could hardly stand the riot of feelings gathering inside her with volcanic force. Arousal heightened until she whimpered. And she felt more than lust. Tenderness. Affection swelled inside her, but it didn’t temper the passion adding fire to the flames searing her body. She pressed her hips against him, agonizing deep inside with desires she couldn’t remember experiencing in years. He brushed the thin straps of her sundress down off her shoulders and pulled down the stretchy, ruched bodice until her left breast was exposed. He broke their kiss and as he cupped the vulnerable breast in a big, warm palm, she ventured a look into his eyes. Heavy-lidded with passion, his expression asked for more. “God, these are sweet, Kiley.” She’d never had small breasts, but they weren’t particularly large either. Under his attention, she could feel every touch. He worked the large rosy nipple with his fingers, rolling and stroking until she thought she’d combust. She couldn’t stop the pants that came from her lips, or the entreaty that slipped from her. “Oh, God.” “Yeah. That’s it.” His voice held the harsh edge of a man caught up in a passion he couldn’t stop. “Tell me what you want.” She wanted his tongue on her, his lips sucking. “No…I—someone will see us.” “Let me… God, just let me…” Scott ducked his head and his tongue lashed over her nipple with a hot, wet lick. Oh, heavens. Yes. Yes. Yes.

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Even though someone doubtless did notice them in the alley necking like horny teenagers, she stopped caring. Out of her mind with longing for him, she fell into their lust without another thought of preservation. He licked her again, then sucked deeply over and over. Each long pull on her nipple sent exquisite desire darting into her pussy until her hips writhed against his. A hot flush cascaded over her body like a waterfall. She clutched at his arms while his lips feasted on her nipple. His mouth tugged, his tongue fluttered and stroked. “Please.” She squirmed in his hold, overwhelmed by sensation, by the desire to feel his hands exploring her naked flesh in the most explicit dance known to humans. She wanted his fingers between her thighs, touching and rubbing until she fell apart in an orgasm so hot she’d never recover. She wanted his cock caressing her deepest channel, taking her with swift plunges that would tear apart her last inhibitions. One more lick over her nipple…just one more— He stopped and drew back. He released her breast. They both breathed hard, and the message in his eyes said if she didn’t stop him now, they’d be in danger of someone calling them in for indecent exposure. He slipped the bodice and strap of her sundress back into place. Kiley untangled her fingers from his hair and slid her hands down over his chest. His cheeks had flushed, and heat churned in his eyes, his breath coming hard. She expected him to let her go, but instead he nestled his hips closer to hers. The tingle between her thighs increased, and for a wild, irrational moment all she wanted was the hard press of him against her. What would it feel like to have Scott deep inside her? The very thought brought another blush into her face. His lips turned up in a knowing smile, but he didn’t back away. He knew that she knew he was aroused, and that Kiley felt more than embarrassment. “This is a first,” he said, his voice raw and deep. The raspy edge in his voice fueled her excitement. “What?” “Never kissed a woman in an alley before.” “Never kissed a woman in an alley?” She smiled, aware of the subtext, the humor in understatement. “I don’t believe you.” The gleam in his gaze went smoky. “No, you wouldn’t.” Kiley tilted her hips against Scott instinctively. “No one is here to see us now.” He grunted. “I ought to make you pay for that.” “How do you plan to do that?” “You really want to know?” “Would I have asked?”

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He grinned, and yet the smile didn’t tease. He tucked her closer to him, and her arms were trapped between them. “Don’t tempt me, Kiley. I’m not a nice guy.” “Who are you trying to convince? I’ve already got you pegged.” “You don’t know me.” There it was again. Beyond the precarious ledge she teetered on, his brand of cool mystery and hot temptation made her curious. Kiley couldn’t leave him well enough alone, even as her common sense said she should. They’d just made out in an alley, for God’s sake. “I read your dossier. What else is there to know? Do you have some deep, dark secret you think you need to hide?” she asked. Instead of answering, Scott reached up and cupped her cheek gently. The slight roughness of his skin ignited heat along her body, touching her breasts and bringing them into hard points once more. If he looked down now he’d have a good idea what his touch did to her. His gaze gentled along with his caress, and before Kiley knew it, he took possession of her lips. Only a fleeting brush…a feather touch that came and went so fast. It felt good. Then he stepped away, leaving her bereft. She couldn’t believe she’d let Danger kiss her and caress her in such intimacy in view of the public. A forbidden thrill shivered over her skin. She hadn’t indulged in wanton behavior this illicit since—hell, she hadn’t ever. Kiley grinned. Scott frowned. “What’s so funny?” “Don’t worry. I’m not laughing at your kissing technique. I’m laughing at myself.” “Why?” “Never mind. It isn’t important.” “What is important?” The scent of the alley returned, assaulting her with its malodorous bouquet. “Getting out of this alley right now. Then firing your ass.” He took her arm. “You need me, and I don’t intend to let you get killed.” “Give me one good reason why I should trust you.” Keeping his grip on her arm gentle, but proprietary, Scott started toward the entrance of the alley. Kiley sensed that he was on extra alert, aware of every sound and scent. “Who else can you trust?” he asked. “Myself.” “You just put yourself at risk out here on the street. Don’t get me wrong. I know you’re a capable, sensible woman. But you haven’t dealt with a man like Thorson before. You need extra backing and I don’t go back on my word. I promised your uncle I’d keep you safe, and that’s what I intend to do.”

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Scott’s conviction impressed her. As they stepped onto the sidewalk outside of the alley, she realized how secure she felt with him by her side. The thought terrified her.

***** “How did you figure out I’m a bodyguard?” Scott asked Kiley as they entered her condo. He knew he’d made some mistakes, and he wanted to know which ones had tipped her off. Anger ran through him, barely smoothing over the raging need still pumping through him. God, he’d fucked up. He’d practically screwed her in the alley in full view of anyone who cared to look. He’d never lost control this way before, and it disturbed him in a way he couldn’t understand. Failure on this case was not an alternative. His slip-up convinced him he might be losing his edge. Good thing he’d be leaving the agency soon. Time to get while the going was good. “Nothing magical,” she said. “One of the first clues was when you said you knew what type of car I have. I realized you’d done some investigation on me or you wouldn’t know that. This meant only three things. Either you were the guy making the heavy breather calls, the police or a bodyguard. The most likely scenario was that you were a bodyguard hired by my uncle. You didn’t hide the fact you work for Taggert Security Team.” “Shit,” he said quietly. “Exactly.” Thunder rumbled in the distance, heralding another storm close by. The air crackled with anticipation, as if the black clouds would be far nastier and more dramatic than the storms of the last two days. She tossed her sweater on the arm of the couch and sighed as she headed for the kitchen. Scott knew she must be tired. Not that she’d admit it. After they left the alley, they’d picked up Kiley’s car at Genero’s and he’d followed her to her house. It wouldn’t have surprised him if she left now she had her car. Once inside the kitchen, Kiley opened the refrigerator and fished out a cola. She held one out to him and he took it. His parched mouth tasted like sandpaper. Scott remembered her lips under his and how delicious her juicy nipple felt in his mouth. A jolt of lust gripped him. He gritted his teeth. Three times today he’d messed up. Once in letting her out of his sight, once when he’d taken her up on her invitation to bite her and lastly when he kissed her. Her soft scent had driven him nuts, her defiance and response heating his blood. God, once Kiley was in his arms, he didn’t want to let her go. No. No matter how much he wanted her, the physical stuff would end now.

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Then he remembered the moment she’d gone soft and gentle in his arms, relinquishing a little of that iron maiden control to him. She’d writhed, moaned and whimpered like a woman on the verge of an orgasm. Whether she’d admit it to him or not, she wanted him. A wave of unwanted, but acknowledged tenderness passed through him so hard and quick it seared into his senses. She flinched when a streak of lightning flashed across the sky. He thought she looked like a human scarecrow in a field, fearing the bolt would hit her any minute. Maybe her nerves would break soon, and if she needed him, he’d be close. Thunder came, rattling the windows with a low growl. Scott glanced out the windows at the heavy, black clouds. “Looks like we’re in for it.” “Probably a dry thunderstorm.” Another electrical charge arced in the sky, fingers of energy illuminating the gloom with an eerie blue glow. Scott saw a shiver dance over her skin, prickling into goose bumps. “Are you afraid of thunderstorms?” “I’m cautious.” “Smart woman.” Kiley pressed the cold soda can to her forehead. “You okay?” he asked. “Dandy.” She sighed. “Just dandy.” She popped the top of the can and took a long swallow. “There’s something you don’t know. Mr. Martin wasn’t the first bodyguard my uncle hired for me. After I was kidnapped ten years ago, he hired two men to keep track of me at all times. I didn’t balk much. I was going to therapy once a week and everything scared me. I felt the need for a little security.” “How long did the bodyguards last?” “A year.” “That long?” Kiley smiled. “Yeah. I was younger then, and not as sassy.” “Hard to imagine.” He didn’t hold back his smile, and he realized he’d grinned more in two days than he had in a long, long time. Of course, he’d also argued more than he had in months too. She headed back into the living room and sank onto the couch. She slipped off her sandals and propped her naked feet onto the coffee table. The sight of her long, nicely formed feet with their unpainted toes…her long, firm, beautiful legs… God save him. A sudden image of sliding his hands up the insides of those smooth thighs made him almost reach out for her. His cock started to harden in anticipation. “I pretty much went along with whatever my uncle said until I decided to start the magazine,” she said.

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Scott sat next to her, taking a deep breath of her soft scent. “What changed?” She crossed her legs at the ankle, and his gaze went to the fine, high arch of her right foot. “I worked through a lot of my fear. I realized that if I could survive a kidnapping, I could survive whatever my uncle dished out. It was as if a light bulb went on. Ever had one of those experiences?” “Yeah. And now you don’t want to give up your independence just because Thorson is threatening you.” “We don’t know it is Thorson.” “Yes, we do.” He’d told her about his initial meeting with her uncle. “Your uncle isn’t a dumb man. I believe him when he says Thorson has the resources and the desire to hurt you.” Kiley moved those long, gorgeous legs off the coffee table and tucked them to the side. It tipped her in Scott’s direction a little. Blue lightning flashed, illuminating the fine, pale skin of her shoulders. “He’ll have to go through me to get to you. I’m not going to let that happen,” he said. “Pretty sure of yourself aren’t you?” “You have to be to do this job. But you’ve got to cooperate with me.” “You let me escape this morning,” Kiley said with a wry smile. She seemed to be an expert at evading certain topics of conversation, and it drove him nuts. “Not exactly the action of a professional bodyguard.” He saluted with his index finger. “Touché. I underestimated you. But it won’t happen again.” Rain pattered against the window with steady force, and the thunder resurrected from its momentary sleep. Soon the rain drummed on the roof, bursting from the clouds with a steady din. It sounded angry, and the noise reminded him of the outrage he’d felt when he realized Kiley had left. But his ire was more for his own idiocy than for her cagey escape. Her smile made Scott wonder what she planned to do now. He finished his cola, then crushed the can and put it on the coffee table. “What else made you realize your uncle hired me to protect you?” Shrugging, she said, “It stands to reason. I saw you in action with that creep Meyers, and the way you insisted on staying with me. It just didn’t add up. The average guy on the street doesn’t fight like you. And you’d just met me. I certainly wasn’t fooling myself into thinking you couldn’t stand to be away from me.” “You didn’t think I was trying to impress you enough to grab the magazine spot?” She nodded. “It occurred to me. By the time we had dinner last night, I was suspicious. I also know my uncle. He doesn’t give up easily.” “Sounds like you.”

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Kiley sighed. “Believe me, it doesn’t run in the family.” “What do you mean?” Looking down at the floor, she twisted the silver pinky ring on her right hand. “You’ve read about it, I’m sure. It was splashed in the papers…and I’m sure Mrs. Taggert told you. My father committed suicide three years ago.” He’d forgotten. “I’m sorry.” “So am I. He had so much to give.” She continued to twist the ring on her pinky. “He was a lot different than Uncle Reggie. Very kind. Very…generous. Something inside him always seemed so fragile.” “Why did he commit suicide?” She shook her head. “No one knows.” She shook her head again. “Maybe he woke up one day and everything sort of crashed in on him. He just went out one weekday and found a dusty, lonely road and shot himself. Didn’t even leave a note. He didn’t say goodbye. That’s the second hardest thing to deal with…his death. Not knowing he needed help. He was so good at hiding his feelings that I didn’t know how much he was hurting.” Kiley’s tone held a twinge of sarcasm. He turned toward her and saw the memories ignite in her face, and he understood the pain. He wanted to pull her toward him, take her in his arms and tell her everything would be all right. But he’d already made too many mistakes. Damn, what was it about this woman that drove him to do crazy things? Brilliant light pierced the room, startling even his steady nerves. Thunder crashed. She stood and grabbed both cola cans. After she’d pitched them in the recycle bin under the sink, she returned to the living room. At the doorway, she leaned one shoulder against the doorjamb and crossed her arms. Lightning backlit her body, striking highlights off her midnight hair. Most of her lipstick had come off, and her cheeks looked pale, but Scott couldn’t remember seeing a more beautiful woman. “What about your mother? What happened to her?” he asked, already knowing the story, but wanting to hear her version. Her firm lips led him to believe she wouldn’t answer, but then she said, “My dad had a fight with her, and she left with some friends on their yacht. She drowned. They think she fell off in the middle of the night. You know, a Natalie Wood sort of story. Her friends said she’d been drinking heavily the night it happened. I was only three.” He didn’t speak. Saying sorry didn’t seem good enough. “I think my dad felt guilty about her death all his life,” she said. “You know…if they hadn’t argued she wouldn’t have left. The whole ‘what if’ game. For all I know the guilt might have contributed to his decision to commit suicide.” She straightened, unwinding her arms and shrugging.

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Admiration for Kiley rushed through him, and Scott stood, walking toward her and stopping a few feet away. “You’re strong, Kiley. You’ve had to be after everything that’s happened to your family.” Her doubtful expression made him crave to kiss her again and infuse some confidence back into her stubborn soul. She stared at him for several seconds before she asked, “Why did you kiss me?” If he’d thought his mouth was dry before, it felt like a desert now. He stepped closer, drawn nearer to the flame that consumed him when he kissed her. Her eyes widened a little, and Scott wondered if she feared him. Never in his life had he harmed a woman. But he’d certainly tussled with her enough to give her the wrong impression. What did it matter? He didn’t care what Kiley thought of him, and it wasn’t important. He’d broken the bodyguard commandments by kissing her and wanting her in a way that he shouldn’t have. But when she looked at him like that he couldn’t think of anything but tasting her again. He stepped closer until only a foot separated them. “The heat of the moment,” he finally said. The warmth in her eyes faded, replaced with a cool detachment he knew would be safer for both of them. “Glad I could be of some distraction for you,” she said with a hint of scorn. “Don’t plan on a repeat performance.” His gut clenched as if she’d just jabbed him. He couldn’t inhale for a moment, and wondered what had happened. She responded to his kisses with a ferocious need that had surprised him. Could she have faked it? He took a deep breath. So she didn’t want his kisses. Big deal. Big, frickin’ deal. “I suppose my uncle showed you that photo album?” she said suddenly. He turned and headed back to the easy chair and slid onto it like a lazy cat ready for a nap. Leave it up to Kiley to ask a question out of nowhere. “How did you know?” “He shows it to everybody.” “He’s proud of you.” “Maybe.” Scott heard the heavy doubt in her voice, and he knew the feeling well. More than once he’d doubted his value to others. He watched Kiley walk back to the couch and settle on it slowly. She perched on the edge as if it might be a hot seat. He cleared his throat. “There’s one thing I want to know.” She stared at him and said nothing. Only the flicker of her eyelashes even told him she heard him. “The first picture in the album shows you with a white stripe in your hair. Like a damned skunk. It’s been eating at me, wondering—”

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“What possessed me?” “Yeah. Was it some late punk phase?” She leaned her forearms on her legs just above her knees and clasped her hands together. Kiley sniffed. “It felt right.” “It felt right.” “That’s what I said.” “You didn’t worry about what people might think?” “I’ve never worried about what people think or say about me. And I’ve never been trendy for the sake of fitting in.” “Sounds like me.” “Well, at least we have something in common.” She added a small smile to her words, almost sounding apologetic. “I like that about you. You’re tough. But you can be…gentle.” Scott felt her soft words touch his heart in a way he wouldn’t have expected. He allowed a grin to curve his lips. “Thanks. That’s one of the nicest things a woman has ever said to me.” Amusement lit her eyes. “Well, don’t become too used to the idea.” He chuckled, glad for the lightened moment. A silence draped around them. The rain faded to a gentle patter, and a ray of sun slipped through a crack in the clouds. Kiley headed for the hallway. “I think I’ll have a nap. I’m a little tired.” Instantly he imagined her crawling through her bedroom window, her short sundress shoved above her hips. Scott smiled as he imagined a delectable view of her sexy butt covered in some silky, lacy material. Better yet, thong panties. He laughed. She stopped and looked back at him. “What are you laughing at?” “Don’t try to crawl through the window and escape.” She sniffed. “Yeah. Right.” Then she turned and left. He closed his eyes and listened to the rain taking vengeance as it renewed its onslaught on the condo. Thunder rolled in the distance, and the rays of sun that had brightened the world for scant minutes disappeared behind ominous clouds. If he believed in omens he would have worried about the relentless storms. Instead Scott concentrated on clearing his mind and listening for another kind of trouble. The human kind.

***** Few things ever distracted Thorson, the hum of the limo tires over pavement certainly didn’t. But there was one scenario he could guarantee would entertain him anytime, anywhere. The woman kneeling between Thorson’s legs reached for his zipper and yanked it down. He almost protested. Designer clothes didn’t deserve shoddy treatment. As soon 92

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as she slid her black dress off one shoulder, then the other, exposing a healthy portion of skin, he decided he could always buy another pair of pants. As her large, surgery-enhanced breasts came into view, he almost reached for them with both hands. She deserved a good grope for arriving quickly when he called her. Any good bitch deserved a little scrap here and there. Instead, Thorson touched one cinnamon-colored nipple, then the other with his index finger. No need to soil all his fingers with her flesh. Her skin was cold, and the milky pale of a person who never tanned. He shivered as he thought of a frigid, deep grave far below the earth. So much like the one he designed for Kiley all those years ago. How very much he wished to go back there…take her back and finish what Barclay Muldare had started. But no. There was some damned bodyguard trailing her every footstep. So said his sources. Information came to him without effort. He’d called in favors and he still hadn’t discovered the man’s identity. Shrugging aside the worrisome detail, Thorson licked his lips and contemplated the bitch’s breasts. He’d enjoyed the taste of soft female flesh more than once since he’d left prison. So long without a woman, he couldn’t seem to satiate his raging need to fornicate as often as time would allow. He wanted to bite her. Lick her until she screamed. Screamed in pain. Now that prison bars didn’t hold him back from what he deserved, he might enjoy another woman too. Kiley. Shit, it was no good. Thorson couldn’t keep his mind on the woman in front of him because Kiley kept popping into his mind. He thought he’d seen her today on the streets outside her uncle’s building, but before he could get a good look she had disappeared. God, how he’d love to have a piece of her. Just a little nipple might be enough to keep him going for a day or two. She’d be finer, sweeter than any whore. The bitch treated him to an intimate touch. He cursed and told the woman what he planned to do with her and to her. The woman grinned and reached inside his pants. She whispered against his throbbing skin. “We will, baby. Believe me, we will. And before we get to your house. At least once.” “At least once,” he said, gasping as she took his cock in her mouth. His cell phone rang and he jumped. The woman lost her grip on him. Thorson reached inside his suit jacket and grabbed his phone. “What the hell do you want?” he growled into the phone, not caring much who might be on the other line. Even a call from the President of the United States wouldn’t interrupt this first opportunity in a week to get a good blowjob. “I’m busy now.” The killing machine laughed, his deep chuckle sending uncharacteristic shivers along every inch of Thorson’s body. “Sorry, boss.”

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“You know better than to call me,” Thorson said as his limo slipped along I-25 on the way to his home on the South side. “Meet me at my house at midnight. We can plan your next move then.” “I’ve already got a plan to execute tonight.” Execute. That sounded good. “What? At her house?” “Yes.” “What are you going to do?” Thorson asked, excitement mingling with the absolute dread the killing machine inspired. He shuddered again, enjoying the sensual slide of the woman’s tongue. “Read about it in the papers in the morning. I think you’ll like it.”

***** Scott sat in the recliner in the guestroom with the light off. Traffic outside had silenced, and the neighborhood was quiet. He took a deep breath and tried to catch some sleep. Slumber eluded him, though, as a fantasy rose inside his mind and threatened to take over. He remembered the heady sensation of her tongue against his, her response fervent as he cupped her breast, plucked her nipple. Her flesh had tasted sweet, with a perfume like rose teasing his nose as he’d flicked his tongue repeatedly over that one captured nipple, tormenting her until she writhed and moaned. What the hell was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he just treat her like any other client? It wasn’t as if he’d never guarded a beautiful woman before. Something within Kiley called to him with a ferocious craving he couldn’t ignore. His breathing quickened as his cock pressed unrelentingly against his jeans. He unbuttoned and unzipped the denim to get relief from the pressure. In a furious bout of need, his cock rose into a hard instrument seconds after his fantasy started. His stomach clenched, his cock tightening and lengthening as his hand fisted around his flesh. Son of a bitch. In a last ditch effort to forget her, he started pumping his cock with hard strokes, working the pre-cum over the head and down the length. He closed his eyes tightly and sank into the sensation. But he lost the battle to forget Kiley. He imagined her silky wet channel wrapped around his cock, sucking him down, down until his breath came in gasps and his cock ached to explode. With fast strokes he kneaded his cock into an arousal so hard it almost hurt. “Damn you, Kiley,” he said with a moan. Gasping, panting, he worked his body into a frenzy of growling, shaking need he hadn’t felt since he was a teenager. Then, with one volcanic explosion, his cock spewed cum in long, hard jerks as he gritted his teeth and trapped a moan in his throat. After he came down from the dizzy heights, still panting and body replete, he realized one thing. He still wanted Kiley Chapman. 94

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Chapter Nine Kiley drifted, caught in the tethers of a dream world. She waited upon her bed for the one man who could bring her ecstasy. Happiness coursed through her body like the warm, sweet hunger of a babe for its mother’s milk. She wanted this man more than anything, yet he hid in the farthest shadows of the room, never daring to show his face. Why wouldn’t he come to her? Hot tears stung her eyes as she strained to see him in the dim light. Kiley wanted him…wanted him to— He stepped into her line of vision and she gasped. No. No. Barclay. He’d come to take everything she had. Everything she was. This time he’d kill her. She drew in a startled breath. An acrid scent touched her nostrils. Wincing, she woke abruptly. Smoke? In the darkness she sat up, gazing around her, heart pounding with a heavy drumming. She scanned the room for Barclay, but no one stood across the room from her or in any other corner. She sighed in relief. A dream. A dream laden with old memories. Then she heard it. A soft, hissing, snapping sound. Then she smelled it. Every sense went on alert as Kiley sniffed again, taking in the harsh scent impregnating the room. What the— She saw the light dance under the doorway and she knew. Her heart, seconds away from calm, pounded in her chest as she made an inarticulate sound. Fire. Nothing could have prepared her for the stark dread of the popping, devouring flames. Kiley reached for the bedside lamp and snapped it on. Grabbing the phone, she stabbed at the keys. 911. She held the phone to her ear. Nothing. Dead. She looked at the receiver, disbelieving. Then she punched out the emergency number again. 911. Dead.

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She scrambled out of the bed and jammed her feet into her ballet-style slippers. Without thinking, Kiley reached for her small wallet purse lying on the dresser and looped it over her neck and across her body. The smell of smoke assaulted her nose in earnest now as it rolled under the door. Oh, God. Oh, God. I’ll never commit another sin as long as I live… If I live. Then another thought crashed into her. Scott. She had to warn him, but she had no idea what she might encounter when she opened the bedroom door. She needed protection. With fear gripping her body, she dashed into the bathroom and soaked a towel with water. Then she draped it over her head and shoulders. The cold water, mixed with fear, made shivers run across her skin. Quickly she headed for the bedroom door and grasped the doorknob with caution. Not hot. Good. “Kiley!” a male voice roared. “Kiley!” The pounding of feet down the hallway punched her into action. She opened the door and the dance and crackle of flames blasted her with heat. Smoke drifted across her vision. Leaning out into the hall, she saw Scott standing beyond a wall of flame. His hair hung loose about his head, tossed wild like a lion’s mane, and sweat slicked his naked torso. He wore only jeans. He looked frantic, his mouth a grim line. Some relief entered his expression. “Kiley, get out! Get out of the house. This whole side is going up.” “But—you—” She coughed. “Get out! I’ll make it through a window!” Kiley raced to the edge of the landing. Fire started up the banister, licking like a thousand tongues. Eerie light wavered against the walls below, but the conflagration hadn’t blocked the front door yet. Smoke blurred the air, thickening. She coughed again, the smoke thick as pudding and clogging her air passages. Her eyes burned. Heat pushed at her from the side and suddenly the flames crawled and rolled above her head like a live thing, undulating and rolling with the sinuous movements of a deadly serpent. Kiley couldn’t even see Scott now. The wall of flames and veil of smoke covered the area. Scott. No. Not Scott. Please, God. Not him. She ran for the stairs. Kiley tripped and saw the carpeted steps coming up at her. She grabbed the banister, scrabbling for any grip she could find, but heat crept up the white wood,

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turning it black under the flames. Her body jolted against one step and then the other as she lost her hold on the banister. Carpet scraped her bare arms and legs. Despite the pain, she struggled to right herself. I won’t die this way! Not by breaking her neck or by fire. Pain rattled Kiley’s bones as she managed to stop her fall down the stairs. She propelled to her feet, ignoring the ache in her hip and legs and raced down the remaining steps. When she reached the bottom, she looked back, her eyes streaming with tears. Fire danced over the top of the landing and now flickered over the steps, removing all escape from that direction. As Kiley glanced toward the kitchen, she saw a glow dancing outside against the windows. Like a predator it consumed, wanting to come inside and devour everything in sight. Panic clutched her then, unlike anything she’d encountered. Once before in the deep, unrelenting darkness of that awful dungeon she had experienced this horror. It threatened to swallow her like the raging flames above. Reaching. Eating. Devouring. The scream didn’t reach her throat. Instead it choked, and she gasped as smoke filled her lungs. Kiley headed for the front door while she still could, horror chasing her like a loathsome, hulking monster in a nightmare. Frantic, she unlocked the door and threw it open. As she ran down the four steps, it seemed to take forever, and if she glanced back she knew she’d see the hot beast behind her. She put her hands to her mouth, coughing as the rain-freshened air replaced the smoke. The damp grass felt cold after the heat of the fire, each individual blade prickling like a thousand feathers against the soles of her feet. Kiley threw off the wet towel. Several people ran up the street toward the condo, and she heard shouting and sirens wailing far away. Mrs. Gamble from three condos down came toward her, slippers smacking the ground as she ran. “Oh, God! What’s happened?” Mrs. Gamble gasped as she reached her, out of breath. She grabbed Kiley’s arm with both hands. A stupid question for an obvious situation, but the older woman’s reassuring grip gave Kiley strength. “I don’t know.” “The fire department is on its way. They should be here any moment.” She didn’t care. “Scott.” “Scott?” Mrs. Gamble asked. “Shit, shit, shit,” Kiley said, the litany of words like a prayer as she ran back toward the house. Her lungs protested the action, and she gasped as they strained for new air. Mrs. Gamble grabbed her arms from behind and held her back. “Kiley, you can’t go back.” 97

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Fury surged in her like a volcano as she pulled against the hands gripping her. “Damn it, let me go! Scott might still be in there.” “You can’t,” Mrs. Gamble said. “You’ll be killed.” “He said he’d climb out a window. We have to make sure he escaped!” Kiley stopped wiggling for a moment and watched her condo. Flames had reached the front windows now, the whole thing appeared engulfed. The idea of Scott trapped in the inferno terrified her. This could be his funeral pyre. She tugged against Mrs. Gamble’s grip. “Let me go!” Free once again, Kiley ran for the side of the dwelling as a fire engine and ambulance raced up the street and came to a screeching halt. “Don’t go back there!” Mrs. Gamble cried. Ignoring the woman’s plea, she ran past the side of the house. A side window broke outward with a crash, and tongues of flame reached out with hot, broad arms and almost touched her. Glass rained down. She raised her arms above her head and threw herself to the ground. Sharp pain stabbed her left forearm. Her breath escaped in a whoosh as she fell on her chest, rocks cutting into her breasts and stomach. Incredible heat roared above her head like a big cat, its growl rumbling deep in its throat. Any closer and she’d cook like a side of beef. Kiley scrambled on her hands and knees, plunging ahead and away from the fire’s ravenous hunger. She rounded the condo, fiddled with the lock on the wood gate and shoved it open. She ran into the backyard. Then she saw Scott jogging toward her, hair matted and tangled, streaks of soot darkening his chest and jeans. Tears flooded her eyes and she sobbed. He waved one arm in a dismissing motion. “Kiley—get away from here!” She couldn’t speak. Her throat had clogged with tears and smoke and withering heat. Without pausing, Scott grabbed her arm and pulled her with him back the way she had come. Flames shot out of the window at the side of the house. Water sprayed down on them as firefighters drenched the inferno. The cold liquid hit her face, and Kiley shuddered with a thankful sigh. Then she coughed and shook as the terror came to roost in her mind. Scott marched along with her, his face grim and resolute. Mrs. Gamble let out a shriek of joy as they came into the front yard. “Oh, Kiley, darling, are you all right? Are you all right, young man? How on earth did you get out?” “Climbed out a window and jumped. I barely made it before the flames covered that side of the house.” Once away from immediate danger, Scott spun her around to glare at her, his sweaty, dirty face a thundercloud. “What were you thinking coming to look for me? You could have been killed, you little idiot!” His gaze raked her from head to toe. “My God! You even stopped to get your purse? Are you crazy?” 98

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She’d seen the gun tucked into the back waistband of his jeans, and his words surged hotter in her mind than the fire consuming the house. “What about that gun? You stopped to pick it up, didn’t you? How dare you call me an idiot?” Tears fell from her eyes like rain. She saw the transformation in his eyes first, a softening that reached the rest of his face seconds later. He brushed his fingers over her cheek, the touch tender and comforting. “I’m sorry.” Then he saw her left arm and latched onto her wrist. “You’re bleeding.” A cut about three inches long on her forearm dripped blood. She ignored it, the steady stinging pain nothing like the ache in her heart. “It’s nothing, I—” A fit of coughing seized her, and she couldn’t stop. She gasped for air that wouldn’t come. For a moment alarm broke through, and she wondered if she’d die right here…right now. Fear ignited in Scott’s eyes as he grabbed her shoulders. “Kiley, sweetheart, breathe.” She shook her head as the air refused to come. Her lungs seized, desperate for air, and a roaring filled her ears. As her vision went black at the edges, Kiley wondered if she was fainting or dying. Scott picked her up in his arms and headed for the ambulance and paramedics. “Breathe, sweetheart.” His entreaty seemed to work as her lungs allowed more air in, and she let out another cough. “That’s it. Come on. Cough it out. If you’re coughing you’re breathing.” “I’ll…be…fine,” she gasped then started coughing again, the deep barks sounding like someone with croup or pneumonia. “Breathe,” he said, his voice desperate, his expression filled with anxiety. “Just breathe.” Her lungs seemed to relax as she drew in one shuddering breath after another. Her throat was sore and her eyes stung. Paramedics rushed toward them, and Scott said, “She needs oxygen.” Weak and trembling, she allowed Scott to set her down on the grass so the paramedics could examine her. They insisted she lie down, and the damp grass soaked through her sleep shirt. As the heat of the fire receded, she shivered. The roaring in her ears left, and the fuzzy feeling retreated. “I’m all right—” Kiley croaked. “Shhhh,” Scott said as he went down on one knee next to her. “Don’t talk.” She looked at his chest and saw a few red spots. “You’re burned.” “It’s no big deal.” “But—”

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“Hey,” he said, smiling slightly. “Can you guys put that mask on her? She’s starting to get annoying.” The paramedics grinned in male appreciation, and she glared at them. One of them turned to Scott while his partner placed the oxygen mask over her face and took her blood pressure and pulse. “Sure you’re all right, sir?” one paramedic asked Scott. “I sucked in some smoke, but I’m okay.” She gave him a closer look. He looked invincible. Someone draped a blanket over his shoulders. She took in a hissing breath of pain as one of the paramedics dressed the cut on her arm and then worked on a small laceration on her right calf. As soon as the paramedics declared she would be fine, Scott came closer. He brushed back her wet hair. “Feeling better?” She nodded, sucking in life-giving air with steady breaths. She felt like a drowned rat. When Kiley shivered and goose bumps sprouted on her skin, the paramedics helped her sit up and they pulled another blanket around her. She pulled off the oxygen mask. “I don’t think I need this anymore, and I’d like to stand.” “Are you certain?” one paramedic asked, doubt wrinkling his weathered face. “Yes.” Looking dubious, they let her stand, but watched warily. “I’ll take care of her,” Scott said to the other men, and they seemed content with that. Take care of her. No man had ever said he wanted to shelter her. As if this man would do anything for her…that he would put his life on the line for her. Part of her rebelled. If someone watched over her, she would lose power and the independence she’d cultivated in recent years. Scott slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side as she watched the firefighters battle the blaze. She closed her eyes. Without the sight of the disaster unfolding around her, sounds escalated. Water splashing, people shouting commands and directions. Against Kiley’s eyelids red, gold and yellow flames illuminated the night with daylight brilliance. She opened her eyes as water cascaded onto the two BMW’s sitting in the driveway. The garage door opener had been broken for a couple of days and the manual release didn’t work properly. “Good thing the cars aren’t in the garage.” He nodded. “Damn good thing. If the fire had reached the garage and the cars had caught fire…” “An explosion,” Kiley whispered.

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As the water hissed and smothered the remaining flames, she realized her condominium hadn’t succumbed completely. The garage and maybe the laundry room on the far right side looked halfway intact. But it didn’t matter. When it came down to it, she couldn’t live here anymore. Anger and sadness united, and more tears came to her eyes. Nothing like the gut-wrenching pain of losing her possessions in a few minutes. All her things. All her memories. Pictures of her parents, her friends, travel memories…consumed in heat and smoke. Her four-bedroom exclusive dwelling turned to ashes before her eyes. “How did this happen?” she asked. A deep sadness entered Scott’s eyes. He rubbed his palm over her shoulder. “I don’t know.” She started shaking again, and he slipped behind her and opened his blanket. Urging her back into his arms, Scott enclosed her in a cocoon of heat and strength. She felt momentarily trapped and it startled her. She pulled against the shelter of his arms. “Rest,” he whispered into her ear. Her skin tingled as his hot breath passed over her ear. “We can’t do anything now. Just rest.” Slowly the warmth of his embrace soothed her, and the support of his muscles kept her from falling to her knees in grief. “How could this have happened?” she asked once more, her voice a harsh scrape of sound. “How?” “I doubt it was an accident.” Kiley felt Scott look about, as if searching the growing crowd. “Someone either wanted us dead or wanted to scare us.” “Damn them,” she said with raw agony. “Damn them to hell.”

***** The killing machine watched from an alley between two condos across the street from Kiley’s home. Now the fire died to smoking embers, he rubbed his hands together and savored the scent of burned wood. He liked hiding here. Alleys were deep and dark and dank. Like the inside of his mind. He almost laughed. That man still hovered over the Chapman woman. No chance of grabbing her right now. He watched the man wrapping the Chapman bitch in his arms. So the bodyguard had turned lover? A streak of pure adrenaline surged inside of him as he thought of it. Yes. Yes. Killing her lover would create the ultimate wound. He would rip the man to shreds with his bare hands and then show her the damage. How her eyes would widen with disgust and fear. He’d watch her weep. Scream. See the despair in her eyes. How delicious. His heart rate slowed and the sweating stopped, but the satisfaction remained. Like a drug in his veins, a hot, forbidden desire pulsed and throbbed in his body. The bitch hadn’t died, but the delay didn’t disappoint him. He could get used to playing with his 101

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victims a little longer. Why hadn’t he tried this before? So much satisfaction in prolonging the destruction and the fear. Thorson would be displeased. He chuckled.

***** As Scott drove toward Taggert Security Team, he glanced at Kiley and saw her fiddling with her purse. Her hands trembled a bit, but she’d stopped crying long ago. She looked like an abused doll, her hair matted and her T-shirt blotched with dirt and damp. She wore a jacket and baggy jeans she’d borrowed from Mrs. Gamble. Vivid images flashed into his mind of walls of flame between him and Kiley. The smell of the smoke rousing him from sleep. Agonizing fear that Kiley might not wake. When she’d stepped into the hall and he’d seen her, when the fire had danced between them, he experienced the most penetrating terror in his life. Kiley dead because of his negligence. No one had ever died because he’d botched an assignment, yet he’d done nothing but screw up since he’d taken this assignment. Protecting her. Right. After jacking off, he’d tried to stay awake reading, but he’d fallen asleep. Inexcusable in every way and he couldn’t forgive himself. Time for him to leave the business. His gut ached, but he knew there was no other alternative. She’d be ecstatic once she heard what he had in mind. Outside the rain landed on the warm pavement and turned to funny, swirling tendrils of mist. The streets filled as people went about their business, and cars roared by as if the weather didn’t matter. Despite trying to keep his mind on his driving, Scott couldn’t take the silence. “I’ve got to apologize,” he said gruffly as he shifted down and took a corner a little quickly. The tires squealed on the pavement. Kiley continued to fumble with her wallet. “Kiley, what are you doing?” She didn’t even glance at him. “Where is my platinum card?” “Platinum?” That got her attention. Her forlorn gaze changed to the fire and ice he normally associated with her. He liked it better when she snipped at him than this cool silence. “What’s it to you?” she asked, and went back to searching for her credit card. “Well, since my wallet was just grilled, I’m hoping you’ve got some money in there to buy us some breakfast. I’m starving.” Kiley threw him a disdainful look. “You can think about food at a time like this?” His stomach growled fortuitously. “I’d rather think about food than wonder who the bastard was who tried to barbecue us.” 102

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“Maybe he thought with some gravy we’d be to die for.” Scott almost laughed. Sarcasm seemed her best defense mechanism. Only when she’d watched her condo burn had she cried, and then he’d held her shivering form in his arms. Holding her had felt more than good. Wrong reason to feel happy, but he did. He scratched at the flannel shirt he’d borrowed from one of Kiley’s neighbors. Sure, he’d acquired a few first-degree burns, and his chest itched like crazy from the soot and grime, but at least he had one thing. They were alive. He turned down the last block toward the agency. “Kiley, listen to me. I could’ve gotten you killed back there. First I let you get away from me and now the fire.” She looked up from her purse and frowned. “The fire wasn’t your fault.” He shook his head. “In a way it is. I wasn’t alert enough to realize someone was skulking around outside. There’s no excuse for it. None.” Shrugging, Kiley returned to searching the small bag. She opened a zippered compartment on the side of the purse and squeaked in joy. “Yes! I can’t believe I didn’t look in here first.” “You won’t need the card. They’ll have everything you want at the safe house. Tammy Carter has clothes and supplies ready for us at the agency.” She sighed and leaned her head back against the headrest. “I’m not staying in a safe house.” “Yes, you are.” “I won’t argue with you on this. Once we finish with your business at Mrs. Taggert’s office, that’s it. No more protection.” Scott pulled to the side of the road, sliding into a parking slot. “What are you doing?” He switched off the ignition and turned toward Kiley. “Trying to talk sense into you. You were almost killed tonight. When I saw you on the other side of that wall of fire, I can’t tell you how I felt. Then, when you came around the side of the building…hell…I knew you were nuts, but not that nuts.” “Thanks a lot,” she said glumly, stuffing her credit card back in her purse. He reached for her chin and tilted her face up. The console between them kept him from getting closer, but he wanted to grab her, kiss her, then make love to her until she begged for more and screamed in release. If he took her good and hard and deep, until they combusted hotter than fire, maybe then he could exorcise the need within him for the last time. There. He’d admitted it to himself yet again. “Kiley, Thorson must have sent someone to start the fire. You could have been killed at any time.” She twisted out of his grip. “And your point is?” “This is not a game. Taggert Security is arranging—”

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“No!” His anger went up another increment. “Then you might as well get out of this car, stand on the corner and scream for this bastard to come and get you. He could be following us right now, do you realize that?” “Is he?” He sighed. “Not that I can tell.” “Then why did we stop?” Scott gritted his teeth. “Because you are just about the most infuriating, most aggravating woman I have ever met.” “I’m not going to a safe house.” The calmness in Kiley’s voice, contrasting with her earlier vehemence, startled him. Her gaze communicated much to him in that one glance. He saw fear nestled deep in her pupils, warring with a need to fight anything or anyone that tried to control her. This woman might be feminine and taste like a fine, rich liquor, but she wore a steel bra. He decided to tell her now. Give Kiley the one thing that might make the difference and change her mind. Taking a deep breath he said, “Look, if it’s any consolation to you, after I transfer you to the safe house, I won’t be your bodyguard anymore. You’ve won.”

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Chapter Ten “What?” Kiley asked. She couldn’t have heard him right. Refusing to acknowledge the panic entering her chest, she stared at him in open-mouthed disbelief. “When I called Mrs. Taggert, I told her you’d requested another bodyguard and that I thought it was a good idea,” Scott said. “But that’s not true.” “No, but you’re not going to tell her otherwise.” Stunned, Kiley stayed silent and bewildered. What had changed his mind? Her heart seemed to flutter and then speed up, and suddenly she didn’t feel well. Kiley pressed her hand to her stomach. Well, she’d gotten what she wanted, hadn’t she? “Can we get out of here?” she asked. “Fuck it,” Scott said and started the car. He screeched away from the curb and the acceleration forced her back against the seat as he pushed through the gears. “You know that isn’t good for this car.” He glanced at her, disbelief painting his expression. But he said nothing, and she knew she’d managed to hack him off. “Whatever you do, don’t get killed,” he said. “What?” “Watch your back. All the bodyguards at Taggert Security are excellent, but you need to look out for yourself.” Kiley shifted in the leather seat, uncomfortable. “I’ve always been cautious. Why would I let down my guard now?” He shook his head. “Everyone does at some point. It’s a matter of how and when.” Her stomach did a flip, and she recognized the power in his words and the truth that spoke to her like a deep, stabbing wound. She’d let her guard down one time and found devastation. When Barclay had deceived her, used her, then almost killed her, she hadn’t used caution then, had she? The restless abandon she exercised before the kidnapping had formed out of defiance and willfulness. She strove to win and be the best in everything she did all her life. When a very big, very nasty hitch came along and destroyed her tidy world, she acknowledged she couldn’t always manipulate her destiny. Sometimes shit happened. After she’d recovered from Barclay’s attack, Kiley had grown a sixth sense for danger. Or so she thought, until Thorson’s plans for her elimination. Yes, she’d told her 105

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uncle he couldn’t prove Thorson was responsible for what happened to her ten years ago, but in the back of her mind she acknowledged he’d plotted her demise. “I won’t let my guard down again,” she said. Scott didn’t speak. After a couple of minutes Kiley said, “I’d like to stop by the hospital and see Susan before we go to my uncle’s.” “We can’t risk it. I’ll check on her for you and let you know how she’s doing. Besides, the police said you should stay away from the hospital.” “But—” He slammed his hand down on the steering wheel. “Damn it, Kiley! If you keep playing fast and loose, Thorson will kill you.” Kiley almost…almost contradicted him. It seemed she’d become so used to defying Scott that even when he was right she couldn’t help but disagree. Seconds later they roared into the parking garage of the agency, found a spot, and went into the elevator. She stayed on one side of the elevator as if Scott was a stranger instead of the man concerned with keeping her alive. In the close confines, Kiley realized she would miss trading barbs and retorts with this big, implacable man. No. She couldn’t afford to think like that. He’d done the right thing relinquishing his position as her bodyguard. She tried to feel triumph but instead a hollow ache entered her heart. When they reached Taggert Security’s floor and left the elevator, she noted how Scott walked with confidence. Despite almost becoming the meat at a weenie roast, his face reflected no emotion and no cares. She glanced at the shirt he’d borrowed from a bystander. It clung to his chest and arms, too small. Yet he sauntered along as if he wore a three-piece Armani suit. “Oh, my God,” Mrs. Taggert and Tammy Carter both said as Kiley and Scott entered the office. Mrs. Taggert came around the side of the desk. The last time they’d spoken had been when they talked after Martin had been fired. Her burgundy suit and paisley scarf looked professional and sophisticated. Kiley admired the tough, energetic, confident woman, and often wished she could see her more often. On closer inspection, she noted that Mrs. Taggert looked pale. The older woman reached for Kiley’s shoulders. Her look of concern and alarm, took Kiley by surprise. Mrs. Taggert cleared her throat. “You both look like…like—” “Hell,” Scott said. Mrs. Taggert didn’t even look at him, her gaze still latched onto Kiley. “What about you, my dear? How do you feel?” Kiley managed a weak smile. “Like someone kicked my puppy. Very, very hard.” Squeezing Kiley’s shoulders again, Mrs. Taggert let her go and took a deep breath. “Well, obviously you’re all right. It’s only when you stop giving snappy comebacks that we need to worry.”

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Tammy smiled tentatively. “Been run through a meat grinder, Danger? You’ve got mud and soot and God knows what else all over you.” Scott grinned. “Always did enjoy mud wrestling.” Tammy came around the desk. She pressed Kiley’s shoulder gently. “I’m so very sorry about your condo.” Kiley smirked. “Never did like the wallpaper.” Tammy and Mrs. Taggert exchanged glances that said they understood her need for levity. Anything too heavy and she’d topple off the high ledge she stood upon. “We have everything you’ll need for the short term,” Mrs. Taggert said. “We’ve also procured a safe house outside of Denver. In fact, it’s in a new location that’s never been used before. Very isolated.” “I’m not going,” Kiley said, wishing to establish the parameters right away. “Ignore her,” Scott said, putting his hand on his hips and glaring. “She’s going.” Frustrated and exhausted, she turned on him. “I’m through with you, remember? You no longer have to worry about what happens to me.” Kiley thought pain flashed through his eyes. But she knew she couldn’t do or say anything that could hurt this unyielding man. She wished that she could awaken from this nightmare. But she wouldn’t. This was live, in digital quality sound. “I’m not going to a safe house. I have another place in mind,” Kiley said. “Where?” he asked. She hesitated to answer, because she knew Scott wouldn’t like what she said. “My uncle’s estate.” “No way,” he said. “My uncle has security working for him around the clock. They can brief the new bodyguard.” “If I might interject here a moment,” Mrs. Taggert said. “I think we should consider every angle. I realize you would feel more comfortable at your uncle’s estate, but Scott is right. We can’t guarantee your safety if you don’t take advantage of the safe house.” Kiley shifted on her feet and crossed her arms. “Guarantee? I never asked for security. And I don’t expect you to feel responsible for what happened.” She glanced at Scott and the intensity of his gaze shook her. She had to swallow hard before she could speak again. “And this isn’t Mr. Danger’s fault. I’ll tell you what I told my uncle. I don’t want him blamed for this.” Surprise flickered over Scott’s face. His gaze caught hers and held for a long, disturbing moment. Mrs. Taggert nodded and started toward her office. “Scott, I’d like to speak with you in my office. Tammy, would you mind showing Kiley the facilities? I’m sure she’d like to relax and maybe have a drink and something to eat.” Tammy nodded and smiled. “Of course.”

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As Scott followed his boss, Kiley watched him leave with the tiniest regret. Without him near it felt as if part of her vanished with him. Shrugging off the ridiculous sentiment, Kiley followed Tammy.

***** “Scott, we have a grave situation here,” Mrs. Taggert said as she settled behind her desk. “You’re damned lucky Kiley isn’t the type to sue—” “Mrs. Taggert—” “You know better than to interrupt me when I’m talking,” she said, her back stiff, her eyes narrowed. Scott winced. Despite her tiny stature, her voice carried across the room, authority in every syllable. She reminded him of his grandmother. Spicy, tough and unwilling to take crap from anyone. She’d no doubt emerged from the womb kicking and screaming. “I’m sorry,” he said. Her eyebrows went up. “Scott Danger apologizing?” “I know. A rare occurrence.” As if she’d passed from the dark side of the moon into the light, Mrs. Taggert’s face broke into a bright smile. “Sit down. You’re making me nervous.” He slid into the chair in front of her desk. “What’s got into you?” she asked. “Nothing.” “Uh-huh. I don’t believe you.” She relaxed in her chair and leaned back. “Didn’t think you would.” “What I was about to say is that we’re lucky Kiley is so understanding.” His eyebrows went up. “Are we talking about the same woman?” She chuckled. “Okay, then tell me why you gave in to Kiley’s demand for another bodyguard.” “She’s the client. That and she pushed my buttons one too many times.” Mrs. Taggert picked up a pen lying on her desk and tapped it against the blotter. “And you want the customer satisfied.” “Of course.” “Just out of curiosity, which buttons did Kiley push?” “She’s too independent. Too stubborn. Too cranky. Too tough.” Too sexy. He didn’t have any more descriptors. She uncapped the pen and doodled on the large calendar nestled in the blotter. “I see. Which one bothered you the most? I warned you about Kiley.”

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“The entire package bothered me.” His chest itched, and Scott squirmed in his chair. “It’s as evident as flies on a dog’s…as the nose on a dog’s face. She’s been fighting me and fighting me, and I have no control.” Mrs. Taggert dropped the pen as if it had burned her fingers. “So that’s it.” She snapped her fingers. “The both of you are control freaks.” “What?” “Control.” Scott made an impatient noise. “Of course I like to direct my own life. I’ve always been that way. She’s going to get killed if she doesn’t realize that she can’t protect herself against a man like Thorson.” He pushed a hand through his hair, but his fingers snarled in the mess. “There’s something even more important. I put her life in jeopardy twice because of my inability to handle the situation. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to her.” Curiosity materialized in her eyes. She clasped her hands and put them on the desk. “If you’re referring to the time she slipped from her condo without letting you know, you can’t blame yourself.” Surprise rippled through him. “You knew she got away from me?” She nodded. “Apparently she went to her uncle that day and he called me. He was hopping mad. Requested I kick you off her case. I cooled him down.” Regret and full-fledged fury welled inside him. Before he could speak, she said, “If it’s any consolation, I’m pretty sure Kiley asked him not to say anything to me. Reggie ignored her.” “Right,” he said wryly. “She can’t stand me.” Mrs. Taggert’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know. If she disliked you so much, why did she say that what happened wasn’t your fault?” He let one corner of his mouth turn up. “Maybe she has a more painful end in mind for me.” She grinned. “Like I told you before, Kiley is tough, but she’s still a woman. And that means she has a soft spot somewhere.” Kiley Chapman was a woman all right, but Scott didn’t want to think about her “soft” spots. If he closed his eyes he’d recall with bone-melting intensity all the warm, sweet curves of her body. The hot, wet, fabulous taste of her mouth and tongue. The thought ate at him, making him ache inside with a deep hunger. He wanted to hold her close, assure himself she hadn’t suffered an injury, then he wanted to kiss the fight out of her. “Scott?” He snapped to attention. “Sorry.” “That’s a record. Two apologies in one day.” “I’ve turned over a new leaf.”

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“Humph. You’re tired and you’ve had a horrible experience. You need a break before you deliver her to her uncle.” “I’m not sure if I should leave her alone any longer.” “Scott, she’s in an office full of bodyguards. What can happen to her?” He didn’t know. His gut knotted with anxiety, and although he recognized his paranoia, he didn’t know where it came from or how to squash it. “I’ll send Hawthorne over to the estate later this evening,” she said. “Are you sure that’s soon enough?” She nodded and sighed. “I know what you’re thinking. If we leave her in her uncle’s care she’ll either leave the estate or wander around unprotected, or her uncle’s personal security guards won’t do an adequate job. I can assure you that Reggie’s security is top drawer. That’s one of the reasons why Thorson doesn’t seem to be as interested in attacking him directly. He figures Kiley is an easier target.” Scott gripped the arms of the chair, unprecedented guilt assaulting him. “And I almost delivered her up to him on a silver platter.” “You’re being way too hard on yourself.” Scott stared at her blankly. Not long ago this woman had told him not to mangle this assignment. “I thought you’d have my head on a pike for this.” “Like I said before, we’re dealing with a more dangerous individual than any of us anticipated. If anyone messed up, it was I for not realizing the perpetrator’s true intent. If you can’t handle Kiley, there isn’t anyone here who can.” “Someone’s got to. She needs twenty-four hour a day protection.” “Understood. And I still believe, despite what she may think, and what you may think, you’re the right one for her.” Amazed, Scott leaned his head back against the chair and took a deep breath. “At the risk of being very insubordinate, I think you’re wrong.” “You know I don’t get angry at my employees for honesty.” She picked up the pen again, but this time just to recap it. “There’s something going on here that I didn’t expect. The fire and the attack don’t fit his usual pattern. He likes to kill people and frighten people, but these situations have a different quality.” “You said he was involved with your husband’s death and somehow connected with what happened to Kiley all those years ago. That’s damn sinister.” She nodded. “True. But I trust my gut on this one. Something else is brewing but I can’t put my finger on it.” “He’s threatened to kill Kiley.” “He’s threatened to make her uncle very sorry. There’s been no specific death threat as such. I can’t explain why I feel something else is wrong. I just know it.” Scott saw the lack of confidence enter her eyes, and it surprised him. “Well, if it’s your gut feeling, then I trust it.”

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She nodded and shifted in her chair, leaning her head back as he’d done earlier. “Something smells to high heaven.” The ache of suspicion settled between his shoulder blades with the sharpness of an old war wound. He wanted to march from the room, head straight to Kiley and tell her she would accompany him to a cabin in the mountains where Thorson and his goons couldn’t find them. But she wouldn’t jump on that idea any more than she had the safe house. Suddenly he realized that Mrs. Taggert was talking. “Hawthorne can give me a progress report tonight from Reggie’s estate, then I’ll call you if that will make you feel better,” she said. “Yeah, it would.” She stood. “Good. Now, as much as I enjoy your company, I think you’d better catch a shower and get some food in you before you deliver Kiley to her uncle.” As he rose, he gave her a salute. “Will do.” Scott headed for the door and then turned. “Once again, I’m sorry.” Mrs. Taggert’s smile was gentle. “Stop apologizing. You did all you could.” He didn’t really believe that, but he wouldn’t belabor the point. Instead, he turned and left.

***** Kiley closed her eyes and listened to the steady hum of the small red car Scott had borrowed from another bodyguard. She realized not a single word passed his lips in the last forty-five minutes. His continued silence drove her crazy. Why wasn’t she happy that he accepted defeat? Despite a strange upsurge in energy, something still ate at her. What, she didn’t know. After a hot shower, a wolfeddown sandwich, chips and a glass of water, she’d been ready to tackle the world. Even her disguise of a black wig and sunglasses gave her more confidence. She’d slathered on the extra makeup from the supply Tammy provided, and Kiley looked more like a hooker than a woman trying to escape the clutches of a madman. She might have worn lipstick this red before, but never this heavy, and never this much dark eye shadow. She shifted in the seat and scrutinized her new clothing. The peasant skirt she wore looked like a bohemian reject. The matching peasant shirt was made for a woman with a larger bust. Still, it felt fantastic to have clean clothes and not smell like smoke anymore. She did a mental shrug. At this point, she just wanted to get to her uncle’s house and barricade there for a day or two. She’d called the hospital for a status report on Susan and talked with Travis. There was no change in her condition, and the added strain of knowing her friend remained critical weighed on Kiley’s mind like an anvil. Even the devastating thought of her condo in ruins couldn’t daunt her. At least it hadn’t while she’d bantered with Scott. Now the resolve seemed to seep from her 111

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degree by degree. Perhaps that’s why she fought him. She didn’t have to concentrate while fighting with him. Faded jeans hugged his long, strong legs, and the red T-shirt clung to his arms, shoulders, and pectorals. There could be no doubt about his healthy male attributes. Even after a trauma like surviving a fire, he looked capable of taking on anything and anyone. She licked her lips. Despite all that happened to her lately, she still felt a stirring low in her belly when she looked at him. Maybe she needed to scratch the itch. After all, she hadn’t experienced sex in so long she’d almost forgotten what it felt like to have a man’s thick, long cock buried inside her. Everywhere inside her. Her mouth, her ass, her mouth. She blushed. Well, okay. She hadn’t experienced anal sex before, but she’d fantasized. Someday, with the right man… She looked at the wig on his head to staunch sexual thoughts. She giggled. “What a ridiculous wig.” Scott didn’t even look at her, but one corner of his mouth moved. “Yours or mine?” “Yours, Bozo. Rastafarian? You’ve got to be kidding.” He shrugged. “What else was I supposed to wear? Nothing else would fit over my real hair.” “You don’t exactly blend into the crowd.” When Scott didn’t speak, she said, “Hmmm…I suppose Tammy could have cut all your hair and then planted a wig on your head.” He made that grunting noise men had uttered since before they came out of caves. “No one touches my hair.” The idea of touching his hair now brought a clean, pure throb of desire to reach for him. “No one?” she asked. “I touched your hair the other day in the alley.” His face paled at little under his tan. Scott said nothing, his face stony. Interesting reaction. “I find it hard to believe you wouldn’t enjoy it. A good-looking man like you? What woman could resist pushing her fingers through those long, thick tresses?” She saw his jaw harden and clench. “A woman hasn’t touched my hair that way in a long time.” That way. The tone of his voice implied intimacy. And if she thought about it, touching or being touched on the head crossed the line into trust. Admitting that a woman hadn’t touched his hair for ages gave Kiley a feeling of triumph, as if she hurdled a barrier with him. Scott tossed one penetrating gaze her way before returning his attention to the road. “So you were lying to me that day I first met you. You said you had a date every night that week,” she said.

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“Yep. I was lying.” “What else did you lie about, Mr. Danger?” She felt the tension mount as he gave her an imperious glance, his eyes hard like jade and just as murky. “At this point I don’t think it matters, does it?” She shrugged. “I suppose not.” She wished suddenly that she hadn’t provoked him. At least not about lying. She enjoyed, if she admitted to herself, the heavy-duty sexual repartee they performed on a regular basis. Sighing, Kiley turned her attention back to the road. What might lie ahead in the coming days? On the outskirts south of Denver, a series of huge homes covered the rolling prairie. Her uncle’s estate was one of the first constructed around ten years ago. No other houses nestled close. In this semi-arid environment, the aspens, Ponderosa pines, and other carefully planted vegetation had turned his estate into an isolated compound. From his living room window, she would see the mountains to the West. She knew the estate well, and at least there she wouldn’t feel alone. The security guard at the front gate allowed them in, and Kiley instructed Scott to park in the circular driveway. She looked up at the building, with its pretentious columns giving it the look of a southern plantation. The white façade appeared incongruous here on the plains of Colorado. All nine-thousand five-hundred square feet spread forth on the prairie grassland. As they got out of the car, uncertainty tightened her stomach and her palms moistened with sweat. Kiley had a feeling Scott would leave her before her uncle could greet him with a tongue-lashing. She couldn’t blame Scott if he didn’t want to wait around for the welcoming committee. She tossed the wig in the back of the car and scratched her head. Scott ditched his wig and shook his head. His hair hung about his shoulders, and the deep golden highlights glinted in the sun. Maybe on any other man the wavy, thick length of hair might have looked feminine. Against the slash of his strong jawline and aquiline nose, it enhanced his primal masculinity. Like Samson, he looked strong. A tingling started in her belly and she took a deep breath. Before Kiley could say a word, an enormous German Shepherd Dog bounded out of the bushes next to the front porch, his tongue lolling. He barked as he trotted toward her. “Jesus,” Scott said, his expression a little stunned and worried as he tensed. “It’s a horse.” “Rommel!” she said, dashing toward the huge animal. “Come here, boy.” The dog leapt up, placing his big paws on her shoulders. Kiley staggered under the dog’s weight, laughing as she embraced him and he licked her face enthusiastically. Standing on his hind legs, the shepherd stood a bit taller than Kiley.

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“I take it back,” Scott said as he went around the front of the car cautiously. “It’s an elephant.” “Down, boy,” she said. “Are you talking to me or the dog?” She grinned and gently shoved the dog off. Rommel landed gracefully and then turned so he placed his long, black body in front of her. He gave Scott the equivalent of a doggy glare. “He doesn’t look too happy to see me,” Scott said, keeping his distance. “Remind me not to kiss you when he’s around. He might get jealous.” Kiley blushed, and Scott laughed. “Laugh it up,” she said. “Can I pet him?” “He won’t hurt you unless he thinks I’m being threatened.” Scott slowly dropped to his knees and sat back, holding out one hand for Rommel to sniff. “Come here, Rommel.” Tongue lolling, Rommel took a tentative step forward, then looked up at Kiley. “Go on, boy. He’s a friend.” Snuffling, Rommel stepped forward slowly and then sniffed Scott’s hand. Apparently satisfied, he allowed Scott to embrace him. Patting the dog, Scott made appropriate noises, praising the animal. Her heart softened as she watched his masculine hands drifting over the black as midnight animal. Scott’s eyes sparkled with a warm, affectionate glow for Rommel, and she realized she didn’t give this man enough credit. Of course, he might be one of those people who liked animals more than he did humans. Kiley wondered, even as he crooned in that silky, husky voice, if she’d ever see him again. “Hey, buddy,” Scott said. “Do me a favor and take care of your mistress here, okay? I need you to watch over her.” Inexplicable tears welled in her eyes. Scott stood, giving Rommel one last pat on the head. She crossed her arms as Scott stopped in front of her. His gaze settled on her with a firm, hard stare she couldn’t read. A shiver traced her spine. She suddenly felt very cold and very alone. “I guess this is it,” she said, wincing at the lame statement. He nodded. “Let’s go inside and meet your uncle.” “Wait.” She grabbed his arm and felt the heat of his muscled forearm burn her fingers. She let him go but he stopped anyway. “Are you sure you want to? I’ll understand if you want to leave now.” Blank-faced, his cool, in-control image in place, he said, “Let’s face the music.”

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Chapter Eleven After the maid told them Mr. Chapman was in the recreation room, Kiley almost stopped and told Scott he didn’t have to face that music. The other half of her wanted to see how he would handle her formidable uncle. Having paused in the doorway, Kiley saw her uncle sitting on the large, white sectional couch in front of the entertainment center. He wore a white shirt, argyle cardigan, and a pair of navy trousers. Leave it to him to look sophisticated even when relaxing. A boxing match blared from the enormous widescreen television. Mr. Chapman turned about, his expression an angry glare that shot arrows at her the minute he saw her. He stood and came around the side of the couch, reaching out to hug her tightly. “Well, well. If it isn’t the wayward niece and her incompetent bodyguard. Thank God, you’re all right, Kiley.” She winced and glanced at Scott. His expression didn’t change. When they said nothing, her uncle released her and turned back to the room. “Sit down,” he said gruffly, gesturing to the couch. “I’m surprised, Mr. Danger, that you’re showing your face here.” Scott started to open his mouth, but Kiley spoke first as she sank onto the soft cushions. “This isn’t his fault. Mrs. Taggert understands that.” Her uncle chuckled. “Really, this is most extraordinary. My niece defending the bodyguard she claimed she was getting rid of. Yet he was still with you last night when your condo burned to a crisp. Isn’t that so?” She glanced at Scott, but he didn’t look at her and she couldn’t read his profile. “I take full responsibility for what happened,” Scott said. Mr. Chapman’s mouth twitched, as if ready to give a stinging retort. “Nice to hear some honesty, Danger.” “Whatever you do, don’t blame Kiley. She was under my protection, and I didn’t do the job.” She looked at him sharply at the same time her uncle said, “She’s always been stubborn and pig-headed.” She stood and paced over to the fireplace, then turned to look at the two men. “I’d appreciate it if you two would stop talking about me as if I weren’t here. Also, I am not a five-year-old. I’m an adult, and I’d like both of you to remember that. And, Uncle, I would like to reiterate that what Mr. Danger says is incorrect. It was not his fault. I won’t allow you to bully him.”

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Surging to his feet, her uncle stomped over to her and glared. “I don’t understand you! First you rant on about how you don’t want him for a bodyguard and now you’re defending him. It doesn’t make any damn sense.” His chest heaved as he inhaled. “What’s got into you?” She swung away, confusion rocking her senses. He was right. He was right and she didn’t know what she was talking about. She wanted the whole scene to end. Then she’d retreat upstairs, take a bath, and sleep away the aches and pains assaulting her muscles. “Can we not argue?” she asked. “He just came here to drop me off. The new bodyguard will be here shortly.” “What I want to know is how this happened,” her uncle said, staring at Scott. “How could you let this happen to her? That condo was very expensive—” “But—” “No, Kiley. You’ve done enough talking for me,” Scott said, holding up one hand. His clear, steady gaze gave away nothing. “You’re right. I did fail, Mr. Chapman. That’s why I’m turning your niece over to you. She’ll be safe here.” Kiley couldn’t believe what he’d said. This wasn’t the man she’d come to know so well in such a short time. Then again, maybe she didn’t understand him. He’d rocked her down to her foundations with a bone-melting kiss and over the edge lovemaking. He’d argued with her more than any man she’d met. Still, she didn’t know him. Not really. Seconds later, he stood and started for the doorway. Suddenly she couldn’t let him go yet. A gaping hole opened in her gut and something remained unfinished. Besides her personal feelings, she wanted to bounce her other suspicions off him. She started after him. “Wait. I’ll see you out.” She didn’t look at her uncle as she followed Scott. “Wait,” she said again as they crossed the huge two-story foyer. As he stepped out the front door, she took his left arm and tugged. “This way.” Kiley went toward the gazebo hidden in a dense copse of trees a short distance from the house. “Where are we going?” Scott asked as he allowed her to lead him. “A quiet place to talk.” “There’s nothing to talk about.” “Oh, yes, there is.” When they reached the gazebo, she looked around, half expecting one of the security people prowling the grounds to appear. She hadn’t been seen the gazebo in months, and the sun spilled through the trees and bleached the white latticework an even lighter shade. Without releasing his forearm, she settled onto the bench inside the gazebo and urged him to sit next to her. A soft, warm breeze pushed through her hair, 116

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fluttering it about her face. Birds floated from branch to branch, their sparkling songs trilling against her ears. A robin flew down from a treetop and landed on the steps. He hopped about for a second before flying away. Despite everything that had happened, the warm, clear day managed to bring a little peace to her heart. Kiley wondered if she had lost her mind. Instead of getting rid of Scott, she’d shared a favorite place with him. “Kiley—” “Don’t say anything until I’ve finished.” One corner of his mouth tilted up, and the sight of his wide mouth made her stomach drop. She admitted to herself that this man made her consider life in ways she never bothered to think about before. Kiley acknowledged she’d experienced a harrowing situation with him, and that could bring people close. She respected him for how hard he tried to keep her safe, even when she fought him. Despite his stubbornness and ego, he’d done a lot for her and tried to keep her safe. That he’d failed hurt his professional, if not his personal ego. “Well?” Scott said when she didn’t speak. She cleared her throat. “Listen, Mr. Danger—” “Scott.” “What?” “You called me Scott during the fire. Why can’t you say it now?” She’d forgotten. Remembering now made Kiley feel odd, almost as if she’d relinquished her defenses. No. That wouldn’t do. She flushed. “Heat of the moment. No pun intended.” He shook his head and looked away. “Touché.” “I…I wanted to thank you,” she said softly. “For what? Almost getting you killed?” She ignored his question. “I know I’ve caused problems—” “You’re admitting you caused problems?” She shrugged, determined not to get angry. “We’ve covered a lot of ground in the last few days. I wanted you to know that I appreciate what you’ve done for me.” Silent and grave, he didn’t look away, and Kiley started to become uncomfortable. “I realize that if I’d cooperated with you things might have gone easier.” “No shit.” Though his bluntness startled her a bit, indignation warred with amusement. Consternation won. “I’m trying to apologize here.” “It’s too late, Kiley,” he said huskily. “Too damned late to pretend like everything is okay because it’s not. You’re still in jeopardy.” “This is a secure place. Rommel can protect me as well. He’s a well-trained dog.”

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“I don’t trust the set-up. There aren’t enough men on this property. One on the gate, two in the house and two roaming the grounds. Your uncle inside the house.” “So? They’re in constant radio communication and they’re well trained.” “It’s not enough to keep Thorson out.” His assessment of her safety made Kiley nervous. Her uncle’s entourage of personal bodyguards had always proved sufficient before. “Mr. Hawthorne will be here soon and that ups it to seven. I practically have a whole army. And the police are investigating the situation and the fire as we speak.” When he didn’t say anything, worry gnawed at her. “Are you all right? Are you sure you’re not feeling ill effects from the fire?” Scott settled his hard gaze on her. “That’s another thing. The way you risked your life coming to find me. You should have been concerned about yourself—” “I was worried about you getting fried to a crisp.” She crossed her arms. Scott closed his eyes for a moment then opened them. “I’m concerned about your situation.” He put his arm along the back of the bench. His legs almost touched hers. Kiley inhaled that warm, masculine scent that she identified with him and him only. Double damn him for being so close and so masculine she couldn’t think straight. “The police should be notifying me soon if they discover the fire was arson,” she said. “You and I both know it was arson. In the meantime, take care.” Scott reached out and brushed the tip of her nose with his index finger. “Don’t go off half-cocked and parade around Denver. Stay put.” “What makes you think I’m going to listen to you now you’re not my bodyguard anymore?” He sighed. “God, for once I wish you’d stop arguing with me.” “I’m not arguing with you.” She’d done it now. Kiley regretted what she said as soon as it came out of her mouth. He leaned closer, and she could see that scar on his chin and the thick lashes around his intriguing eyes. Heat coiled within her and excitement raced through her veins. Kiley knew she deliberately provoked him. Provoked him to… “What the hell do you think you’re doing then if you’re not arguing with me?” he asked. “Having friendly conversation.” “Bull—” She put her fingers to his mouth. “Stop cursing.” He opened his mouth and licked her fingers so that she jerked her hand back. “Stop that!”

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“Stop, stop, stop. Is there ever a time you tell a man to not stop?” His gaze grew hot as it traced over her face, then down to her breasts where it lingered before moving down the rest of her body in a warm sweep. No, not warm. Carnivorous. Kiley blushed. “Stop looking at me like that.” “I can’t.” “You make me feel…” He was closer, wasn’t he? “What do I make you feel?” “Like you want to eat me up with a spoon and maybe add a little whipped cream on top.” His gaze went from predatory to firestorm hot, and the blaze in her body became a raging need. “Forget the spoon. I’d use my tongue,” he rasped. Kiley made a little gasp. Scott leaned toward her, so close she could feel his breath. Hear him taking deep, controlled inhalations. Need rolled through her body. She trembled, amazed she could feel lust after everything that had happened. “Answer me,” he said softly, never taking his gaze away. “Do you ever tell a man to continue doing what he’s doing? To never stop?” “None of your business.” Scott gritted his teeth and uttered a growling sound that made her jump in surprise. “God, keep me from doing something drastic.” “Go ahead. Try it, you arrogant, hard-nosed, controlling…” She stammered, unable to think of a reasonable descriptor for him. His mouth opened as if he might reply. Then Scott smiled. Not a sweet, understanding grin. Not a reconciliatory smile. An expression that said she’d broken all the rules at last. “I ought to—” “What?” she asked. “Ah, screw it!” Scott reached across, anchored his fingers in Kiley’s tangled hair and pulled her toward him, bringing his mouth down on hers. Kiley quivered with reaction and moaned. She wanted this. She goaded him to the point of no return. His lips moved over hers with hungry insistence, as if punishing her for something she didn’t understand. He tasted like toothpaste, and as his lips devoured hers, tingling desire fluttered in her belly. Hot and caressing, Scott insinuated a sexual rhythm with each thrust of his tongue. She welcomed the blatant need in his kiss and her body fired into life. Her blood ran thick and full of longing. Kiley 119

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responded, tasting him. She felt him shudder, the rippling reaction flowing through his entire body. A hard sound, desperate and all male, came from his throat. He drew back, his breath coming fast and his gaze glittering with anger, confusion, and undeniable passion. He dove in again, taking her mouth ravenously. She responded with a fiery passion that asked for everything. His tongue rasped over hers, hot and demanding. Her belly quivered with a consuming need she couldn’t stop. Her hands searched his shoulders, his hair, the stubble-rough lines of his face. She met his passion as his hand slipped under her blouse and instantly found her left breast. He cupped her through the thin bra, his touch dancing over her nipple. She shivered and moaned at the exquisite feeling. He pulled the peasant blouse upward so the cool air blew over her nakedness. As if he couldn’t stand not to know her in more intimate ways, his touch left her breast and moved down to her thigh. When he touched her, she gasped into his mouth and moaned softly. She held on tight, slipping her hands around his neck. He broke their kiss and once again, as he had in the alley not so long ago, he licked her nipple. “Oh, God,” she said, the syllables coming out as a whimper of arousal and longing so deep she knew she couldn’t hide it. Arousal dampened her panties in a hot rush and she squirmed. Oh, she’d never survive this. Never. She wanted him so badly, she couldn’t stand another minute. Mindless with need, she buried her hands in his hair and urged his head closer. He had to lick her, had to— He enclosed her nipple within his mouth, toying with her. “Mmmm.” “Oh.” She gasped unable to hold back the furiously building tension zipping along her veins. “Oh, my God.” Soft and pliant, yet strained to the breaking point, she writhed in his grip. Heaven lay around the corner, somewhere near if she’d only reach for it and let go. Just let go. Yes. Long sips, hard tugs, languorous licks plied her flesh. Seconds later his hand inched up the lightweight material of her skirt, his fingers hot and possessive on her naked thigh. Her thigh muscles twitched at his featherlight touch. His breath rasped against her naked flesh as he tasted her breast again and again, feasting relentlessly. His big palm lingered along her thigh opening her legs wider for his exploration. His hand came up between her legs and she gasped. “Yes. Please.” Her consent egged him onward. Scott pressed deep into the V of her legs, the heel of his hand pressing her clit. Her hips arched upward, pleading for a more satisfying touch. She’d never wanted anything more in her life. She abandoned reasonableness and modesty, didn’t care if anyone saw them. If she never saw this man again, she would at least have a piece of him to remember. She’d know what kind of ecstasy he could deliver. Kiley knew deep in her heart it would be

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mind-blowing. He stopped his manipulation of her nipple to stare into her eyes. Furnace hot, his gaze said everything. He wanted her. Wanted her with a fierceness she couldn’t ignore any longer. “Touch me,” she asked between panting breaths. “Touch me.” His fingers slipped up to the waistband of her panties and caressed her belly with the most exquisitely gentle movement. Caught up in the amazed excitement swirling inside her, she floated in a sexual craving so intense it ached deep in her core and demanded fulfillment. Scott’s broad palm flattened across her stomach, then his fingers brushed through her pubic hair and straight into her wet folds. She moaned in stunned ecstasy as he slipped one finger deep into her, sliding out to tease her labia with gentle brushes that made her squirm in his hold. Oh, the feeling went beyond heavenly. She tightened her pussy muscles over his finger as it caressed with slow plunges. Then, when she thought she couldn’t stand the friction any longer, he added a second finger to the torment. One slow, hot stroke. Another. Her hips twitched, her breath came in hard gasps, her body quivering on the edge of an orgasm she wanted so much she could taste it. Deep inside her pussy walls clenched over his fingers, muscular spasms heralding an explosion. “Come on,” he whispered near her ear. “Take it, Kiley. Give in to it. Take this from me.” His fingers moved, slow and sure, pumping and stroking and driving her to sensual insanity. She held on tight as he leaned in to torture her nipple while plying her soaked channel. She inhaled deeply as she trembled and caught the musky scent of her juices as they bathed his fingers. His tongue flicked over her nipple, then he sucked at the same time he drew his fingers out and touched hard clit. “Please.” Her head came back, the pleasure too much to withstand. Another brush over her clit. Another. Until his fingers continued the steady stroking, the intimate touch that would send her into an oblivion long in the making. She held back a cry and mashed her face into his shoulder as the pleasure started to build. Mindless with passion, she twisted against him and muffled another cry against his shoulder. Her head swirled with a floating sensation as he stopped. “What—” she started. “Wait,” he whispered. He drew his fingers from her sopping pussy. No, he wouldn’t leave her like this, trembling on the precipice, ready to fly off into space. He wouldn’t. Scott’s face betrayed his passion, his cheeks flushed, his eyes wild with emotion and yearning. He dropped to his knees in front of her, spread her thighs, and lifted her skirt up high enough…just high enough. Oh.

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He spread her swollen labia lips with his thumbs, making it easy to find her aroused clit. He buried his mouth in her soaked folds. She pressed her hand to her mouth to keep back a wail. When his tongue found her clit with a long, lush stroke, an orgasm started to build deep within. The walls of her pussy gushed more juices, reached for the ultimate, reached— His tongue worked her, fluttering over her clit again with relentless fervor until— Detonation. Her head fell back as she pressed both hands over her mouth. She screamed loudly into her fingers, muffling the amazed and gratified sound. She panted, writhed into the excruciatingly beautiful sensation as her pussy clenched and released, throbbing with sweet, wrenching excitement through her clit, straight up to her breasts, her neck, her face. Trembling, she smiled. “That was…” she couldn’t quite say it through her hard breathing. “Fuckin’ beautiful.” His tongue lapped at her wetness, the smooth sliding sensation threatening to arouse her once more. Slowly he licked until he’d taken fill of her cream, until he’d tasted all evidence of her heady explosion. He lowered her skirt, stood up and stared down at her. His fists clenched at his side, his gaze fiery with hunger. She smiled lazily, wanting to give him the same delight he’d given her. With a boldness she’d never displayed before, she reached out to touch the huge bulge pressing against his zipper. When her hand covered the thickness, his eyes glittered and his breathing quickened. The heat of his cock thrilled her. Scott placed his hand over hers and held her there. “No. We’ve already taken too many risks here where anyone can see us.” Disappointment threaded through her. Wildness surged into her system, unwilling to give up on their sexual encounter so quickly. “What was that for then?” she asked, her voice hoarse. “Why did you…” Something inside her went modest. She couldn’t say any more. “I kissed you for scaring the shit out of me. Damn it, Kiley. Don’t you get it? When I saw you on the other side of that wall of fire, I thought you might be trapped. I couldn’t reach you. And when you couldn’t breathe after the fire, I thought you were going to die on me right there. Right in front of me. I never could have forgiven myself if anything had happened to you.” He walked away without another word…without looking back. Stunned, Kiley stared after him until he disappeared around the side of the house. Several moments later, she heard his car start and then he drove away. She couldn’t move. She hadn’t even discussed her suspicions with him. Maybe her wild ideas were just that. Wild and unfounded. She would have to think about it more. Did he really care that much about her?

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No. That was crazy. The man didn’t have a warm, romantic bone in his body. Yet, he’d just given her the most mind-blowing, fantastic orgasm of her life. Her pussy ached, wanting his cock inside, wanting to see what that thick length could do to her. More than that, she yearned to touch him more, to learn every inch of his body until she’d mapped him. Scott could be sexy as hell, even with his hair tangled and his torso covered in dirt, cuts, burns and sweat. None of that guaranteed that he cared. Because if he cared then she’d misjudged a man and the last thing she’d promised herself as she’d struggled to escape from Barclay’s hellhole, was that she’d never underestimate a man again. The price came too high. Kiley sat in the gazebo for another hour, trying to forget, until the sun slipped behind the mountains.

***** The killing machine drove south on I-25, heading to Thorson’s estate. “My, oh, my,” he said out loud. He didn’t expect tracking Kiley to be easy. When she’d sped away from the scene of the fire and then to the bodyguard agency, he kept back far enough that he couldn’t be seen. He’d parked and waited and waited and realized a few hours later that they somehow slipped out without him seeing them. Pissed, he’d left and headed toward Thorson’s home. If anybody could tell him where the bitch might head, Thorson could. He opened the window. Then he peeled away the fake mustache and wig that disguised him while he turned that Chapman bitch’s house into match sticks. He tossed both items out the window. As he roared on, he glanced in the rearview mirror and laughed. Damned wig looked like furry road pizza he’d run over numerous times. He wondered how many people would squash it, thinking they’d smashed the remnants of someone’s cat. By the time he reached Thorson’s, the sun had dipped below the Rocky Mountains. He pulled up to the black, iron fence and waved at the two jean-clad men at the gate. Both held serious weaponry over their shoulders. The killing machine sneered at the men as they opened the gate. These two-bit trailer trash hippies that Thorson called guards wouldn’t stand a chance if he decided to cut off their balls. Not a chance. He licked his lips and chuckled as he hit the power switch for the driver’s side window. As it slid down with a whir, he leaned out and made a rude gesture. “Fuckers!” One of the guards, a man with long blond hair and a flat nose, returned the greeting with a finger gesture impossible to ignore. The killing machine told the guard what he could do with the finger. As he drove into the circular driveway, he released a bark of laughter. All along the periphery of Thorson’s large estate, nestled against an outcropping of red rocks, guards

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kept watch over Thorson’s empire. Just like Chapman, he’d built this fortress to keep his little world and his body safe from bad boys like him. His soft laugh turned into a guffaw as he stopped the car, and it took a minute before he could stifle his laugh and leave the vehicle. Once the butler let him in, he went straight for the drawing room, knowing Thorson would be waiting for him. As he walked in, Thorson straightened, looking small and ineffectual next to the big, black fireplace that took up one whole wall. “You’re late,” Thorson said, his voice laced with an extra layer of freezer burn. The killing machine shrugged. “So? We’ve got all the time in the world.” “That’s crap and you know it,” Thorson said, reaching for the whiskey glass on the fireplace mantle. He took a sip. “I heard about the fire on the news before I heard it from you.” The killing machine shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “We can’t talk on the cell phone. You don’t know who might be listening. I’ll come to you where and when I need to.” Thorson’s spine went rigid as he guzzled the whiskey, then walked over to a table by the couch. He set the glass down then walked toward the killing machine. The man didn’t flinch when Thorson got close. This man was far too small to do any damage. Besides, if Thorson tried anything, he’d just kill the bastard after he finished with that Chapman woman and her boyfriend. Thorson stopped in front of him and glared. “This isn’t what we agreed to.” The killing machine wrinkled his nose. “What isn’t?” “You said you’d play with Kiley, but you didn’t tell me what you were going to do beforehand.” “You gave me free rein to do what I wanted. We agreed.” “Not before you told me!” Thorson’s voice went up sharply like a kicked Chihuahua. He made a chopping movement with his hand. “I want a full report of your intentions before you do anything.” The killing machine, unworried by Thorson’s outburst, decided he could play along. After all, he could kick ass and follow Thorson’s rules. Follow rules as far as Thorson knew. He could do anything he damn well wanted and the prick wouldn’t know the difference. “So I slipped up. Now I want to know where the bitch went.” Chapman’s mouth opened, then closed. “You don’t know where she’s gone?” “They got out of the agency somehow without me seeing them.” “Why you—” “You want me to do the job or not? Because I can quit any time. I can take my money any time. And your dick will be flapping like a flag in the wind.”

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Thorson’s jaw worked, surprise and anger clear on his face. The killing machine could see it, and it made him burn inside with a special excitement. Watching this powerful man kowtow to him felt too good to stop. He fed on the power, tasting the carrion he liked best. Thorson cleared his throat and headed back to the bar for another drink. He poured himself a measure of liquor and tossed it back. “She might head to her uncle’s estate. It’s only ten miles from here. He’s got security.” The killing machine grimaced. “I’ll need something to draw her out. I have a great idea.” “Draw her out? What are you going to do next?” The killing machine grinned. “If I told you that, it wouldn’t be any fun, now would it?”

***** Scott marched down the hall toward Taggert Security Team, intent on forgetting the taste of Kiley’s mouth and the sweet taste of her creamy arousal. He licked his lips. God, if he lived to be one hundred, he’d never forget how delicious she’d tasted, or the beautiful sight of her head tipped back, hands over her mouth as she squirmed, thrashed and screamed in orgasm. As he took a deep breath and forced new air into his lungs, he knew it wouldn’t be an easy task to forget Kiley and the gut-wrenching excitement he’d felt giving her pleasure. Her lips and tongue tasted so sweet that every time he thought of them he grew hard. If she hadn’t responded, if he’d felt cold vibes coming from her, he could have junked his feelings. But she’d responded with hot, instant fury. Her lips had clung to his. God, how she’d taken him into her— Scott pushed away the erotic memory and forced his loins into submission. Not a good idea to enter the office with a raging hard-on for the entire office to see. Briefing Kyle Hawthorne about Kiley wouldn’t do him any good either. He’d driven straight from her uncle’s estate to the office, dialing Hawthorne along the way. At least if he couldn’t protect Kiley, Scott hoped Hawthorne could. As he stepped into the office, Tammy smiled and held up three phone messages. “Package safely delivered?” “Delivered, but I don’t know about safe,” he said as he took the messages. “Hawthorne in his office?” “He’s around here somewhere.” Seconds later a tall, dark-haired man with broad shoulders and a cocky smile stepped into the room. “Hawthorne,” Tammy said, smiling at the newcomer. “Were your ears burning?”

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Hawthorne lifted his big, tanned hands and put them over his ears. “Was that what that was?” “Don’t get smart with me,” Tammy said, grinning. “I know where you keep your supply of York Peppermint Patties.” Hawthorne’s eyebrows went up as he looked at Scott. “Uh-oh. I’d better behave.” Tammy gripped Hawthorne’s arm and gave it a squeeze. “What I want to know is how you can eat that candy and still stay…um…in good shape.” Tammy’s gaze swept him with interest. Hawthorne winked. “Do you really think I’m in good shape?” To Scott’s surprise, Tammy released Hawthorne’s arm and pink tinged her cheeks. “Shut up and get back to business. Scott needs to see you.” Hawthorne gave Tammy a hungry look that said volumes to Scott. Tammy blushed and busied herself at the desk. No doubt about it, Tammy and Hawthorne threw enough sparks to start a bonfire. Scott wondered why the two hadn’t dated. Then again, sometimes the resulting fire between a man and woman didn’t mean they’d do anything to keep it going. Hawthorne’s face sobered as he turned to Scott. “Need to brief me on your client?” “Not my client anymore.” Scott felt the sting of that knowledge burn him deep down. Hawthorne’s smile faded, sympathy in his dark eyes. “Hey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that.” Scott shrugged. “It’s over.” Tammy turned back to them. “How is Kiley?” “Tough as hell,” Scott said. “But I think the fire took more out of her than she’s willing to admit. Let’s get this show on the road.” They went into Hawthorne’s small office where Scott explained the Chapman estate and educated him on what had occurred so far. As Scott finished, he slid down in the hard chair in front of Hawthorne’s desk and stared at the cream-colored wall. Fatigue ate away at his senses. “Do me a favor, Hawthorne?” Hawthorne propped his feet on the edge of the desk. “Sure.” “Take good care of her. She’s tricky.” Scott scrubbed his hands over his face. He felt gritty, useless and angry. “Go home,” Hawthorne said as he reached into his desk drawer. He pulled out a weapon and shoved it into his shoulder holster. “You look like hell. Never thought I’d see the day when a woman would wear you down.” Scott wanted to deny it…to pretend he hadn’t pulled the biggest boner in his life. “Just goes to prove that I need to get out of this business.” “What?”

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“I’m turning in my resignation.” Hawthorne’s mouth hung open slightly. “What?” “You already said that.” “You’re shittin’ me, right?” “Nope. Mrs. Taggert will have the letter on her desk tomorrow.” Hawthorne whistled. “She isn’t going to like it.” “I’m giving two weeks notice.” “No, I mean she’s going to be royally pissed. You’re the best she’s got. Hell, nobody here wants to see you leave. Why are you doing this?” Sagging until his butt hit the edge of the chair, Scott sighed. “You know that cabin I’ve got my eye on? The man I’m buying it from won’t hold it forever.” “Yeah, but you said you wouldn’t buy it until this case was over. It’s not really over.” Scott looked at his friend’s strained expression and wished he could be like him. If Kyle Hawthorne was anything he was honest and yet tough. Scott could be honest and tough when required, but he hadn’t learned how to give. Hawthorne volunteered at a soup kitchen at least one evening a week and sometimes on weekends. The guy seemed sickeningly even-keeled. He’d heard Hawthorne hid something in his past he wasn’t proud of, but Scott figured everyone did. “You okay?” Hawthorne said, his dark brows drawing together. “Yeah, peachy.” Scott stood and went for the door. “I need to head out.” He paused with his hand on the doorknob. “Like I said, take care of her. Or I’ll personally hunt you down.” Hawthorne laughed, and Scott grinned back at him. “You can count on me,” Hawthorne said, rising to his full height. “I’ll keep the bogie man away.” Nodding, Scott opened the door and left Kiley’s life in Hawthorne’s hands. As much as Scott felt relieved she no longer depended on him for her safety, another part of him groaned in agony. In his own twisted, needy way he wanted nothing more than to stay with Kiley. Touching her. Kissing her. And, God, help him… Moving inside her. Making love to her until she wanted him more than any other man on earth. For he wanted her in a way he’d never wanted another woman.

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Chapter Twelve “She’s improved, they think.” Travis’ assurance didn’t make Kiley feel better. Her nerves popped and fired until she wanted to run around the house several times to release tension. She held the phone tucked between her shoulder and her cheek as she stirred chocolate chip cookie batter. “How has she improved?” she asked, eager for good news. His sigh filled with a deep weariness that sounded as if he ached in every bone. She’d felt the same before she’d managed an hour’s nap. Chocolate chip cookies seemed a harmless, delicious occupation that would keep her out of her uncle’s way. “She made some movements. She squeezed my hand, and once her eyes flickered open. But that was two hours ago. She hasn’t moved since,” Travis said. “Damn.” Tears threatened her eyes for the thousandth time since her condo had burned. “I wish I could see her.” “Hey, don’t you worry. She’ll be better soon. Just you worry about staying safe.” “But I’d rather be there with her.” “I know. I know. But if she were awake now she’d want you to stay right where you are. I’ve been talking to her while I’m in her room, and I’ve told her you’re safe. Don’t make a liar out of me, Kiley.” She gave a half laugh, half sob. “Yeah, okay.” “I’m sorry about the fire.” She expected to experience pain when she thought about her condo and her possessions turning to cinders, but right now she felt nothing but worry for Susan and a strange numbness. After Kiley hung up, she looked at the bowl of cookie batter and groaned. It was ten o’clock at night. Hawthorne was stationed in the living room where she’d relegated him, and she didn’t feel talking. Her uncle had retreated to bed long ago after quizzing her on the events of the day. Rommel snoozed on the kitchen floor next to the breakfast nook table. “Get with the program,” she said. She reached for two cookie sheets and started dropping spoonfuls of batter on the no-stick surfaces. A reluctant grin came to her lips. Amazing how her uncle, who didn’t have a regular cook and sure didn’t do much cooking, would have a kitchen full of appliances. Oh, he’d once had a chef de cuisine. Marita. Marita Corales. Twelve years younger than him, beautiful, blonde, and one of the nicest people Kiley had ever met. The sweet woman had been killed three years ago in a freak auto accident. In fact, her

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death had come as a double blow—she’d died only two months after Kiley’s father. Marita had been the younger sister of one of Kiley’s uncle’s business associates, a man who had disappeared one day in 1969 and was never been seen again. Marita once told Kiley that her brother had been murdered, but she didn’t know by whom. “Sweet Marita,” she whispered as she wiped her fingers on a paper towel and then opened the oven. “I wish you were still here.” Kiley slid the cookie sheets inside the oven and shut the door. Instead of moving away, she stared into the oven. Sometimes her uncle seemed incapable of showing any emotion but anger. Perhaps this explained the difference between him and her father. Her father, the tall, lean, and quiet one with a gentle soul, had envisioned the world as a threat in many ways. Uncle Reggie, short and round with an aggressive spirit, had tackled the universe. Yet, when Marita was in Uncle Reggie’s employment, he’d mellowed. He’d modified into a man with a touch of heart. She once thought that Uncle Reginald had loved Marita. When she’d died he’d reverted back to that tough, untouchable man. Part of Kiley wondered how it would feel to experience love from a man so much, that his entire outlook changed if you disappeared from his life. “Fat chance of me ever knowing,” she said. Would Scott miss her now that he’d been ejected from her life? She closed her eyes and remembered the undeniable need on his face each time he’d kissed her. The raw passion when he’d licked her between the legs and sucked her nipples. God, she never expected to see that on any man’s face. And it had felt good. Too good. An image of the fire at the condo popped into her mind and she shuddered. Rommel made a curious sound and lifted his head. A shuffling noise at the entrance to the kitchen made her jump, her mouth opening in surprise. Kyle Hawthorne stood in the doorway and smiled. In the few hours since his arrival, she wondered if Taggert Security specialized in hiring handsome men. His face was striking without seeming the least pretty. A sort of mixed-up perfection that belonged in the movies. Dark and deep, his brown eyes could change from amused to frosty in a heartbeat. His almost too long nose matched well with his firm jaw. Cocoa brown hair was cut close enough to his head, but not quite military length. She bet if he allowed it to grow much longer, the waves would turn wild. Unlike the men in her uncle’s employment, who wore suits as if they belonged in Harvard business school, Hawthorne wore casual clothes. His white T-shirt stretched over broad shoulders and powerful arms, and his jeans hugged his lean, muscled physique. He stood as tall as Scott. Right now Hawthorne’s eyes held curiosity. “What are you making at this hour of the night?” “Cookies. I’m trying to burn off some extra energy.” 129

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He smiled again, his grin swift and charming. That smile probably would affect old ladies, young women and little girls alike. “You have extra energy after all that’s happened to you today?” She shrugged. “Crazy, I know. When bad things happen I actually go into overdrive rather than collapse. I was on my uncle’s computer sending emails to my work and downloading some work from the office. Call me a glutton for punishment.” “I suppose that’s good to keep your mind off what’s happened.” He moved into the room. “But I’ll bet you crash and burn a few hours later.” “Good guess.” When the phone rang, Hawthorne grabbed it on the first ring. “Chapman residence.” He grinned. “What are you doing, Danger? I thought you’d headed into the mountains by now.” Her entire body went on alert when she heard Hawthorne greet Scott. Hawthorne grinned. “Everything is fine. All the perimeters are secure. I’ve done a couple of checks this evening and plan on checking again in a few minutes. She’s fine. In fact, she’s making me cookies. Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll save you some.” He looked at Kiley and winked. “Don’t worry. Yeah, you’re worried. Why else would you call? She’s fine. No, she’s right here.” When he held the phone out to her, her heart started a strange rapping and her breath hitched in her scratchy throat. Kiley wanted to hear his deep, husky voice and have it flow around her like a protective shield. Disgusted with herself, she took the phone. Hawthorne left the room, and she silently thanked him for giving her privacy. “Kiley.” At the first sound of Scott’s sinful voice, her heart continued its mad pace, and that heat she craved stole into her and settled in her belly. She tried for a casual, laid-back tone. “Hi. What’s up?” “I just got off the phone with Travis.” “So did I, a few minutes ago.” “Then you know Susan has improved.” She sighed. “Some. But she’s been in a coma so long.” “She’ll make it.” She wanted to believe it with all her heart. “Thanks for checking on her. You didn’t have to do that.” “I wanted to. What about you? I’m surprised you’re not asleep.” “I’m baking like a madwoman.” “You were exhausted earlier.” “I had a nap and that was enough.” Feeling bold, she let out her thoughts. “Did you call to tell me about Susan, or was there more?”

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“More. You need to know if you don’t already. Thorson has property not far from your uncle’s. Mrs. Taggert has one of our bodyguards keeping a watch.” “I know where he lives. But Thorson has tons of goons working for him. How would this bodyguard fit in all of a sudden?” “Smitty is pretty incredible. He can practically pick out a rat by smell and sight. He’s stealthy too. Thorson’s men won’t suspect him. Let’s just say he’s got an inside track.” Kiley switched gears. “Thorson’s place is a ways from here. Not exactly our nextdoor neighbor.” “Too close for my comfort. Be on alert.” “Hawthorne’s here.” She looked around the kitchen doorway and saw no sign of the bodyguard. “I’m assuming he’s good at his job. And I’ve got Rommel with me all the time.” A pause on the other end made her wonder if they’d been disconnected. “Hawthorne will keep you safe.” “I felt safe with you.” As soon as the words spilled, heat filled her face. Scott let a silence grow for some time before he said anything else. “How could you feel secure after everything that happened?” Reckless feelings bombarded her, as if she’d lost her inhibitions. “I can’t…I can’t explain it exactly. You’re a strong man. Not just in muscles but in mind. I admire that— ” She cut herself off. Good God, Kiley! What are you saying to him? You’re babbling like a teenager. He said nothing, and a wave of mortification sent heat into her face again. “Look, never mind what I said. I must be tired.” “I’m sure you are. Kiley, please be careful.” Another flow of gratification warmed her. His concern, the tempestuous kiss he’d given her earlier in the day, the raging excitement she’d experienced under his lips and tongue, and his confession that he cared, made her legs feel like jelly. Kiley wanted to battle her rampant feelings, but they kept coming, as relentless as a wave intent on drowning anything in its path. “I’ll stay close to Hawthorne, okay?” Another lengthy pause. “Danger?” “Yeah, I’m here. Just don’t stick too close to him.” “What?” “He has a way with the ladies.” “And you don’t?” His chuckle came soft and seductive. “It didn’t work on you, did it?” “No? What do you think all that…you know, that was in the gazebo?” 131

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Another pause filled the line. “Look, I’ve got to go. If we find anything more about Thorson, the agency will get back with you right away.” The fact he said the agency would contact her reinforced the reality he wouldn’t remain a part of her world. The pleasure she felt in his call scattered as mortification sent brilliant heat to her face. God, Kiley. Did you have to bring up the gazebo? Disappointment sluiced through her. “Hawthorne said you’re heading to the mountains?” “I’m buying a cabin. I may go there tomorrow. I need a long sabbatical.” “I see.” The pause grew until she couldn’t stand the tension radiating across the miles. “One more thing,” Scott said. “Take my personal cell phone number. If you have any problems, you can call me.” “But if you’re off the case—” “Please. Just take the number and don’t argue with me.” After fumbling around for pen and paper, she said, “Okay.” She wrote down the number, then ripped it off the pad and stuffed it in her jeans pocket. “But if you’re on vacation I wouldn’t want to disturb you.” “Don’t worry about it. I’ll have the cell with me at the cabin. Don’t hesitate to call.” She inhaled deeply, and her legs trembled, as if weariness might descend on her. “How long will you be on vacation?” “Six months.” “Six months!” She sank into a kitchen chair. “Yeah. At least that long until I decide what I want to do with the rest of my life.” Several horrifying thoughts hit her at once. She twisted the telephone cord around her finger. “But…this incident…I mean…you haven’t been fired?” “No. I planned this long before I started on your case. The way I handled your situation solidified things. It proved to me what I already know. I’m not cut out for this anymore. I can’t put your life or anyone else’s in jeopardy again.” He did this because of me. In spite of me. “Kiley?” She licked her lips, suddenly parched. “Why are you giving me your number if you’re off my case and you don’t believe you can do bodyguard work anymore?” “If you need help, I can contact people who can be there within seconds.” So his real reason for wanting her to call was impersonal. Professionalism to the end. “You’re strong, Kiley,” he said suddenly. “You can handle anything life puts in front of you.” He’d told her this before, and Kiley wondered why he emphasized it now. “Right. I’m tough as old cowhide.” 132

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“I dunno. You felt pretty soft to me,” he said huskily. “Tasted wonderful too.” She couldn’t help a little intake of breath at his words. “Are you flirting with me, Mr. Danger?” “I’m just telling it like I see it.” “Uh-huh. Like you said in the restaurant the other night. You don’t flatter women, you tell them the truth?” “Absolutely.” She smiled, feeling a combination of exasperation and warmth toward him. A little of the spunk she’d felt in days past returned. “Then tell me the truth about other things.” “If I can.” “Why did you decide not to be my bodyguard anymore? Is it because I drove you insane?” “Partially. I think you’d drive any sane man crazy.” “Well! Nothing like the truth.” “You asked for it.” She blew air out of her mouth slowly. “Is that the only reason?” “No. I…I shouldn’t have let that incident happen in the gazebo.” The gazebo. Forever, for the rest of her life, she would think of that sexual encounter as the gazebo in big, flashing neon. “You let it happen? I had some control too. Or lack of control. It was my fault too.” “What I did was unprofessional and I regret it.” He regretted kissing and giving her the biggest orgasm she’d ever experienced? Nice for the ego. Very nice. Where she’d been full of energy before his call, now Kiley wanted to retreat to bed and forget he’d met her last week. “I’d better let you go,” Scott said. “Well…enjoy your time off.” “Thanks. Goodnight, Kiley. Be careful.” “‘Night.” She let him hang up first, and the finality of the conversation hit her. A hollow, indefinable ache cloaked her body. Kiley might have attributed it to fatigue, but she knew it meant more than that. Much more. True, he could have refused all contact with her after the gazebo, but he’d called and provided her with information. While satisfying, it couldn’t replace the nagging suspicion this contact could be his last. He filled in a blank he’d thought he left unchecked. Scott was the type of man who made sure he fulfilled his obligations. The mere idea of being the last mark he needed to make on a list of “to do” items added to her isolation. What else was new? She’d been on her own for so long, why

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should things be different now? Why should she feel sad when she knew her independence and her control meant everything? The timer buzzed on the oven, jerking Kiley from her thoughts like an explosion. As soon as she pulled the trays out of the oven and placed the hot cookies onto a platter, she decided to leave thoughts of Scott in the past. He was out of her life for good. As she put new cookie batter in the oven and closed the door, she stared at the dough through the oven window. Curse Scott Danger for coming into her ordered life. Damn him for inserting himself into her world and leaving a mark she could never remove.

***** Scott stared at the phone on his nightstand for a long time, an unsettled feeling overtaking him. He sagged onto his bed, leaning back and putting his hands behind his head. He cursed and closed his eyes, envisioning her sweet, warm body under his as he pushed into her slowly and deeply, picking up the pace as her pleasure and his rose to incredible heights. His eyes snapped open so he could remove the fantasy. How could he want a woman like this so much? Especially her? A stubborn, sexy woman who set his hormones on fire. Scott wanted to go to her now. Wanted to tell her he’d do anything and everything to keep her safe as he promised not long ago. But no. He’d be damned if Kiley would suffer for his negligence. Scott stared at the ceiling, his gaze tracing the patterns he saw there. As a kid he’d gazed at a ceiling similar to this one and imagined scenarios. He fought dragons, monsters or the bad guys with all the wits at his disposal, and he never lost. No matter how rotten his day, he could come home and fantasize about a life of challenges where he gained but never surrendered. Time to face up to reality, Danger. She’d understood him from the beginning. He wasn’t a hero in any way, shape or form. He hated lying to her and saying he planned to see the cabin tomorrow, but knew it was for the best. He needed distance from her…and fast. Their last kiss had rocked him down to his foundations. Rising from the bed, he left his room. The evening was late, but he would finish what he started. Heading into the small room that served as an office, he fired up his computer and went to the document he’d started earlier in the evening. As he pulled up the record called “resignation”, his mind tumbled with a thousand feelings, not all of which he could identify. Mrs. Taggert knew he planned to resign from the agency after this case, and now he’d officially completed the assignment, he

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must move forward. Tomorrow he’d give Mrs. Taggert the letter, and she’d have two weeks notice. After he saved and printed the to-the-point letter, he switched off the computer and headed for his recreation room. He turned on the lights and walked to the large window on one side of the room. Night had descended long ago, but thoughts of Kiley lit up his mind like firecrackers, intruding on any prospect of sleep. The inky landscape was dotted here and there by the lights of the city, blinking like fireflies. He wondered whether Kiley had finished baking cookies, and he glanced at the wall clock. Almost eleven. Pulling away from the window, Scott settled onto the weight bench and lifted, determined that exhaustion would rid him of guilt and this pervading sense of worry. He strained to push up the weights. Punishing. Punishing. Punishing for all his failures.

***** As Kiley stepped into her uncle’s extensive library, the grandfather clock bonged out five in the morning. She had caught a few hours sleep, but thunder from an unusual morning storm woke her. Her mind refused to return to sleep. She flipped on the lights, pulled the double doors shut behind her with a soft click, and then took a good look at the massive room she rarely visited. Uncle Reginald had decorated the room in genuine antique Victorian. A deep red, easy on the eyes, graced the walls. Combined with dark wood, the room contrasted with the other modern design rooms in the house. Somehow, though, she found this room a balm to a weary soul, embracing her as she headed toward the rows upon rows of bookshelves. She’d never perused all the books, she’d scarcely scratched the surface. If she couldn’t find a tome in here to put her back to sleep, she’d be surprised. After wandering from shelf to shelf, taking a book out, then replacing it, she came across a photo album bound in old brown leather. Surprised she’d never seen this one before, she removed it from the shelf. On the spine it said ‘1969-1976.’ Intrigued, she walked to one of the leather couches and sank down onto the cold surface. She shivered as she looked at the front cover. It simply said, ‘Friends and Family.’ Kiley opened the first page and looked at the first faded color photograph. Labeled as July 4, 1969, the photo showed several men gathered in a backyard, perhaps for a cookout. On the page and just below the photograph, the identity of the people in the photo became clear. “My God,” she whispered.

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Chapter Thirteen “Albert Corales, Reginald Chapman, Calvin Chapman, Gregory Thorson, Arnold Taggert, and Edith Wandleigh.” She couldn’t believe her Uncle Reginald had never showed her this photo album. Unease crept into her mind and took up residence. “Edith Wandleigh,” Kiley said again. The woman appeared familiar. It took a few moments but she finally recognized Edith Wandleigh for who she was today. Edith Taggert of Taggert Security Team. She knew Mrs. Taggert had been acquainted with her uncle for a long time, but not that long. Very curious. Now that she thought of it, this album reminded her of another indisputable fact. Her parents hadn’t owned many photo albums. In fact, they hadn’t possessed a single photo dated before her birth. She’d always thought it was bizarre, but as a child she worshipped her parents with that single-minded regard that refuses to find fault in their actions. As an adult, she questioned many decisions they’d made…and now…well, she considered it downright weird they hadn’t kept photos before 1976, the year Kiley was born. The door creaked open, and Uncle Reggie stood on the threshold, his expression mirroring surprise and curiosity. He was dressed in chinos and short-sleeved shirt. She knew his casual appearance was deceptive. Uncle Reggie never relaxed. “You’re up early,” Kiley said. He took a tentative step, as if venturing into a jungle where peril lurked. “What are you doing?” As he advanced into the room, she knew it would do little good to hide her discovery. His face grew wary, then worried as he saw what she had in her hands. Her uncle reached down and snatched the album from her. “Where did you get this?” Stung by his action, Kiley glared at him. She pointed to the shelf. “Over there.” He held the volume to his chest, clutching it like a child reluctant to share a favorite toy. “You shouldn’t be in here.” She watched him carefully, her curiosity boiling. “You never said your library is off limits.” “You shouldn’t be looking at this.” She stood and placed her hands on her hips. “Why?” “It’s nothing.”

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“It can’t be nothing or you wouldn’t have a problem with me looking at it. You never do anything without a reason, Uncle.” He glowered back then started toward the shelf where the album belonged. Kiley grabbed his arm. “Why is it so important to hide these photographs? It’s not like I don’t know that you and Mr. and Mrs. Taggert were friends, or that my father knew them as well. What’s the big deal?” His eyebrows twitched, his eyes clouding with something like anger and hurt combined. “It’s very personal. There are things you don’t need to know. Shouldn’t know.” A tickling sensation, like someone brushed her skin with a feather, rippled up Kiley’s spine. “Does it have something to do with Thorson?” He nodded. “Thorson. And others.” “Stop being enigmatic and spill it. Some of the photos are over thirty years old. What could possibly be in them that would harm me?” When he didn’t respond she sighed, trying to calm the vibration of her heart. “Maybe you’re not worried how the pictures will affect me. Maybe you’re worried about how it will reflect on you.” By the closed expression in her uncle’s eyes, she could tell she’d hit on something. Kiley knew, as he did, that he guarded so much of his life and shrouded it in secrets. She supposed she couldn’t expect him to stop right this minute to suit her desire to know. Still, the skullduggery wore thin. “Uncle, don’t you think it’s time you came clean with me? My parents are dead. Albert Corales and Arnold Taggert are dead. What we talk about can’t hurt them.” Incredibly, his eyes watered. As he dropped to the couch, the photo album fell to his lap, and he opened it to that first page. “Everyone in this picture is dead. In one way or another.” “What are you—” Kiley broke off, watching his transformation from defiant to acquiescent with fascination. “Thorson is alive. Mrs. Taggert is alive. And so are you.” He nodded. “Physically. But we’re reaping what we sowed. Your welfare is at stake because of what we’ve done in the past. You deserve a life free from the taint of our sins.” Kiley closed her eyes, looking for strength. When she opened them, he stared at her blankly. “The taint of sins? You’re starting to sound like a TV preacher.” “You don’t understand.” “So explain it to me.” Taking advantage of his momentary weakness, she sat on the couch next to him. She lowered her voice, soothing it down as if she might talk to a rampant animal. She stared at the photo, hoping it would give away its secrets if she looked long enough. “You don’t have to protect me from bumps and bruises like a five-year-old. Life goes on. Old memories have died.”

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Bravado came to her uncle’s face, resurrecting the fire in his eyes. She almost preferred his fierceness to his show of human vulnerability. He traced his fingers over the photograph, his gaze reflecting memories from the past. He left his hand over the photo, as if trying to hide it from her. “If you knew everything you would hate me. You would hate your father. And I can’t have that.” A hard, hollow ache entered her stomach. Did she really want to know? “You might drive me crazy, Uncle Reggie, but I don’t think I could ever hate you.” He looked up from the photograph. “Oh, yes, you could.” As Kiley gazed at the photograph, peering at it between his splayed fingers, apprehension gathered in her gut. She searched each face in the photo. The feeling of hanging on the brink of a disclosure pulled, vibrated…warned her of a pitfall she couldn’t quite grasp but could feel just the same. “Tell me,” she said, hoping her quiet tone would encourage him to divulge all. He slammed the book closed and put it on her lap, snatching his hands back from the heavy leather as if it was on fire. He stood. “I can’t tell you anything. I can’t.” He looked down on her, and both his hands shook. “But you can look at the photos if you want. Maybe you’ll understand. You’ve always been a sensitive woman, Kiley. Very sensitive.” He shrugged and smiled weakly. “You don’t know how very much like your mother you are. She is…was so understanding, yet so strong.” Speechless, Kiley stared back at him. She never considered herself sensitive, nor did she want to cultivate her understanding. For that meant feelings and needs that couldn’t be restrained. Sensitive people spent a good chunk of their lives trying to convince themselves and others they could handle bumps and cracks in life. She didn’t want that. She cleared her throat. “What has that to do with these photographs?” He paced to the fireplace, leaning on the cream and black marble mantle. “We’re all linked. Linked in ways I can’t begin to explain to you.” She sighed, frustrated. “Then who can explain it to me?” “No one.” Kiley leaned forward, resting her arms on the album. She understood far better than her uncle knew. Kiley had spent a decade building a fortress few could penetrate. She saw how much like her uncle she’d become. Resistant to all outside forces and unwilling to acknowledge defeat or the need for help. She understood him better than she ever had. “The past always comes back to haunt us,” she said, admitting it to herself as well as him. “It doesn’t do much good to hide or to run.” Her uncle’s gaze rested on her with solemnity. “I can try.” “I’ll look at the photos and see what they tell me.”

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Without another word he left, and she stared at the door a long time before she opened the album and perused the contents. She racked her mind trying to decipher his enigmatic statements. Nine more Fourth of July photos nestled toward the front of the album. All the photos in between showed the group laughing and having a good time at picnics. One photo showed them at an amusement park. The snapshots had been posed, for the participants had time to joke or smile or make a goofy face. The second photo showed them on July 4, 1969. A banner hanging from the house behind said Independence Day. In 1969 her mother, Elaine O’Reilly, appeared in the pictures, and the photo was labeled as if she hadn’t married Kiley’s father yet. Kiley knew they married in August of 1970. Kiley hadn’t been born until six years later. From that point forward Kiley saw herself in the photographs. She looked at her innocent face, from the time she was a baby, and wondered what it would be like to become naïve once again. To leave all the ugliness she encountered in her life. Daddy, why don’t I have a little brother or sister? Because, darling. Your momma and I couldn’t have any more children. Just you. That conversation stayed in her memory, always lurking in the background. She’d asked her father that question more than once when she was five or six, as if the answer might change if she asked the question a different way. In later years Kiley wondered if her parents hadn’t produced more children because they’d been older than the norm when they’d had her. It made sense. Then, when she learned about infertility, she guessed the real reason. As if it would answer all the questions bursting forth in her mind, she flipped to the last page in the volume. The last photo was indeed dated 1976, right after she was born. Why would her uncle stop putting photos of his friends and family in albums? What had happened— Instantly she stopped her train of thought and looked at the date again. Nineteen seventy-six. Her mother had died in 1980. Mr. Taggert died in 1981. Perhaps this was a clue to her uncle’s reluctance. With her mother gone and Mr. Taggert also dead, maybe her uncle hadn’t desired to make new albums. Obviously, buried somewhere in her uncle’s bizarre behavior the truth waited to be discovered. Finding the answer might prove as difficult as conducting a treasure hunt. Kiley spent an hour scanning the photographs, but nothing struck her as a clue. Answers have to be hidden among these faces. If only I knew what to look for. Tired, she clutched the album to her chest and headed from the library toward a hot cup of tea. After three cups of tea, Kiley still had no answers.

***** Great news came fifteen minutes after Kiley had made pancakes for breakfast and was serving a high stack to her uncle. When the telephone rang, he reached for it,

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grumbling like a bear. Apparently the humble, worried man from earlier that morning had disappeared altogether and been replaced by the man she knew well. Then again, after the incident in the library, maybe she didn’t know him as well as she thought. Her uncle handed her the kitchen phone, smiling and acting as if they never discussed the photo album. “It’s Travis,” he said. “Susan is awake.” Joy spiked through her and she grabbed the phone. “Thank God! Travis?” “Kiley,” he said, his voice trembling with happiness. “It’s true. She feels good, she says.” She chuckled. “That’s marvelous! She’s very, very strong, Travis. I knew she’d come out of this fine. In fact, she so stubborn, she’ll probably want out this afternoon. I’ll be there as soon as possible.” “But—” “No buts. I’ll bring my bodyguard.” As soon as she hung up the phone, her uncle glowered at her like an irritated carnivore. “Kiley, you are not leaving this complex.” She smiled, aware escaping her uncle’s clutches would be a bitch, but she would leave with or without his approval. Starting for the door, she called into the living room. “Hawthorne! Let’s get the lead out. I’ve got somewhere to go.” Seconds later Hawthorne came into the kitchen, his face a thunderhead and his arms crossed in revolt. “We’re staying put. My orders are to keep you here—” “I don’t give a flying bat’s ass about your rules, regulations and orders, Mr. Hawthorne.” All the pressure of the last few days seemed to explode as she stomped toward him. He didn’t step back, apparently not intimidated by a woman in ragged jeans, an oversize T-shirt, and an apron tied around her waist. She probably looked like a hassled homemaker and not the editor of a woman’s magazine. “I want to see Susan.” “No.” Hawthorne’s refusal irritated Kiley more. “You know I’ll get to the hospital one way or the other, with or without your help. You can’t keep me here, and I’d much rather have protection on the way than to go alone.” “Talk some sense into her,” her uncle said, looking at the bodyguard with a new form of contempt in his eyes. “Or are you like that Danger fellow? All bravado and no substance?” Kiley gave her uncle her most obstinate look. “Leave Mr. Danger out of this.” Uncle Reginald subsided with an appalled noise, leaving the room and his breakfast. Hawthorne gazed at her suspiciously, his eyes narrowing as he approached

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her. He stopped several feet away, and his expression said he didn’t take Kiley’s tirade lightly. “Your uncle is right. You have no business going anywhere until the police catch this Thorson. I know you want to see your friend, but use common sense.” Once again she’d let impetuousness rule her brain when she should use intellect. Then an idea came to her. Kiley didn’t like it, though, because it went against common sense. She smelled a pancake burning and reached for a spatula. Flipping the pancake over, she asked, “What if Mr. Danger comes with us?” Hawthorne didn’t answer for a moment, and she couldn’t read any emotion on the stony face he presented. Finally he leaned his elbows on the counter. “There’s a remote chance he’d agree. But it’s a chance. I certainly won’t try and stop you from asking. Just remember, he’s officially off the case.” She scooped up the pancake and placed it on a plate. “Maybe he’ll do it as a favor for me. One last—” She interrupted herself as she remembered that he’d left for his cabin today. “Damn. He’s gone to the mountains.” “Give it a try,” Hawthorne said as he took the plate with the pancake and headed for the kitchen table. “You never know what Danger will do.” Feeling contrite, Kiley looked at his burned pancake and said, “Let me make you another.” He shook his head and smiled. “No thanks.” “But it’s burned.” Hawthorne’s grin widened. “Didn’t you know bodyguards eat raw meat for breakfast?” She snickered and left him to his meal.

***** As he lay back on the weight bench that morning, Scott hoped he could exorcise the raven-haired woman who flitted in and out of his fragmented dreams and fantasies. He couldn’t eat, drink or sleep without seeing Kiley’s eyes or that small mole that gave her face the slightest flaw. Couldn’t stop remembering the way her lips had felt under his whenever he kissed her. Couldn’t stop imagining her hot, tight, wet pussy clenching hard around his cock as he thrust deep inside her. She’d be the death of him yet. Then there was Mrs. Taggert. The women in his life seemed to play hell with his life right now. Mrs. Taggert’s reaction to his resignation letter hadn’t turned out well. He’d stopped in her office late last night and found her there, still working. Anger and sadness showed on her face, but he reminded her that he planned months ago to leave

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and had warned her ahead of time. She calmed down and said she would accept his decision, even though she hated every minute of it. He pushed the weights up for the third time when his cell phone rang. His heart jumped, and he instantly thought of Kiley. Cursing, he grabbed the cell phone on a table not far from the weight set. “Hello?” “Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Kiley’s silky, warm voice said, tantalizing him. Fear leapt at him from nowhere, even though her voice didn’t sound alarmed. “What’s wrong? Are you all right?” “Of course I’m all right.” “Then why are you calling?” he asked briskly, relieved and rankled all at once. She didn’t answer for a moment. Before Scott could formulate an apology she said, “I tried your regular number. The answering machine is on. Look, it doesn’t matter. You’re not on your way to the cabin are you?” “No. Not yet,” he said, hesitating. “Why?” “I need a favor.” His anger spiked when she explained her plan to visit Susan. “I’m glad Susan has come out of the coma, but she wouldn’t want you to put yourself in harm’s way.” “When have I ever done what I should?” Her tone was full of humor. “I need to see her, and you know I’ll leave the estate with or without your help.” “What did Hawthorne say to your harebrained scheme?” “He’ll do it if you accompany us as backup.” He gritted his teeth. When he got his hands on her willful— “You there?” Kiley asked. “Yeah, I’m here.” She wouldn’t listen to him. If he said he wouldn’t help her, she’d leave her uncle’s estate and get herself killed. “You know just how to get to a man, don’t you?” “Do I?” Her soft voice, buttered and with extra salt, almost melted him into his athletic shoes. “Yes, damn it. A man could go stark raving mad.” Her chuckle caught him off guard. He’d expected a sassy comeback. His lips twitched, wanting to smile, even if he felt like reaching through the phone and shaking some sense into her. “Have I driven you mad?” she asked softly. God, yes. Completely, fucking insane. “Not yet, but I’m getting close.” “You’re pretty good at making a woman nuts.”

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His heart accelerated. Sweat popped out on his forehead. When had it turned hot in here? He stood and went to a window, unlatching it and letting in fresh air. “I haven’t affected you or your agenda one iota, Kiley. You rumble along doing whatever you want.” “I had to put up with a lot from you. You’re stubborn, opinionated, bullheaded—” “All you needed was one word to describe me. They mean the same thing.” “Picky, picky.” Scott wanted to growl. He wanted to have a temper tantrum like a toddler. Never in his life had he experienced such an overwhelming need to scream. He knew if she’d been in the same room, he would have kissed her. Anything to shut her up. “Damn it, Kiley, don’t you ever quit? Or is your own life a joke to you?” “Screw you, Danger.” Hot arousal curled in his gut. “Okay. Name the place and the time. I’ll be there.” A soft, almost imperceptible gasp came over the phone. “Well, I never.” He smiled, even though she couldn’t see him. “I doubt that seriously.” “Let’s just get back to business, okay?” “You started this.” She sighed heavily. “Forget it. Just forget it—” “Look, if you don’t stop putting yourself in dangerous situations you’ll get seriously hurt or worse.” “That’s why I need you.” His body formed ideas he couldn’t stop, and he let a hot, hard erection overtake him. What the hell? Didn’t she realize how provocative she sounded? One short week in Kiley’s presence showed him she wouldn’t relent. “All right. But I’m driving you to the hospital, and we’ll be in disguise.” “Not the Rastafarian wig again.” The true dismay in her voice made him smile. “I think I can come up with a different cover. Maybe.” “Okay, you’ve got a deal.” “Have you told Mrs. Taggert what you’re doing?” “No. Why should I?” “She needs to know for security procedures.” “I’ll tell her. Besides, I have a few questions for her.” He closed his eyes in exasperation. “On what?” “About my family. I’ll explain on the way to the hospital.” So she’d decided to be cryptic. “I ought to tell you to forget it, Kiley.” “But you won’t.”

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“How do you know?” “Because I’m making you a deal. If you do this favor for me, I’ll do whatever you want.” Scott instantly thought of about a dozen things he wanted her to do, none of them related to safety or security. His throat almost closed up. “That’s a risky thing to say to me.” Silence. “Kiley?” “Well, your last name is Danger,” she drawled. “Now get your butt over here.” Scott could have hung up, but something burned in his center and threatened to turn into an ulcer if he didn’t ask. He always said what he meant, often to his own detriment. No reason to change the status quo. “Why do you want me to go with you? You could request another bodyguard as backup for Hawthorne or take someone from the estate.” The silence sounded as dead and cold as a mausoleum. “Kiley?” He heard Kiley sigh, and wished he could see her face. Then he could be certain if she told him the truth. “Because I feel…because I’ll feel more secure. I don’t know the men on my uncle’s estate very well, or the other bodyguards at the agency. I do know you. I may not like you, but I do know you.” He chuckled in spite of the insult. Satisfaction and desire ran hot through his veins. She’d admitted she trusted him in some small way, and he liked it. Way too much. “It’s interesting how you can make a man feel important in one breath and then abuse him in the next.” “It’s my specialty.” She made an impatient sound. “Just don’t get used to it. Soon you can forget involvement with my little adventures.” “Yeah, soon.” “But right now, I need your help.” He didn’t hesitate…just let the words slip out, damning himself at the same time. “I’m glad.” “Just get over here,” she said with a soft, undemanding tenor. When they hung up, Scott made a vow. He smiled. He knew how to make her regret every brazen word she’d ever spoken to him.

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Chapter Fourteen Kiley strode down the hall toward ICU, Scott’s big hand touching the small of her back as if he needed to direct her or restrain her. She stiffened, though she shouldn’t find his touch surprising. She tried to ignore the curious looks they received as they trundled down the hall. Their disguises, as Scott had promised, surpassed their last costumes by far. She glanced at Scott, but he didn’t return her gaze. His demeanor stayed professional and remote. Kiley admitted deep inside that she didn’t like his detachment, but it was for the best in the long run. Hawthorne strode along next to them, appearing oblivious to the undercurrents that strummed between Kiley and Scott. This situation felt unreal, as if she’d dropped into a bad dream she’d never wanted to repeat. If Kiley allowed reality too close, she would recall ten years ago when she’d visited Gabriella in the ICU. She stopped. She remembered anyway. Recollections rushed at her. Her heart sped up, her breath catching in her throat. Kiley fought for a tiny thread of control, as she struggled to keep the cord from snapping like an astronaut’s tether, leaving her floating in an infinite universe. As if caught in a recurring bad dream, she moved like a robot toward a destiny she seemed cursed to repeat. Kiley closed her eyes as a memory rocketed through her, forcing its way into her psyche. “You’ll stay here forever, if that’s what I want,” Barclay had said, his blue eyes wide with an innocent glee that covered a stone-cold heart. “No need to wander in the real world, Kiley. Outside are people to hurt you. To tell you that you aren’t worth anything. I’ll keep you here. We’ll have more fun than you can imagine.” The grey walls of her prison closed in on her, suffocating her as she clawed against them, crying out in a sudden demented surge. Then she sagged against the cold stone and realized she had to escape. Run toward sanity and light. “Kiley?” Her eyes snapped open. Scott’s hand clasped her shoulder, and his voice held concern. Her heart palpitated and she felt out of breath. She knew panic showed on her face, but couldn’t stop it. She hadn’t expected the old memories to spring from the well…to dart up from the hellhole she kept shuttered in her mind. Scott turned her about, bringing her closer to him, his hands clasping her upper arms gently. Apprehension clouded the depths of his eyes. “Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?”

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Taking in a breath to steady her heartbeat, she shook her head. “It’s…sometimes when I’m in a hospital I remember bad things. They just pop into my head for no reason.” His eyes widened, sympathy entering his expression. “Post-traumatic stress disorder?” Ashamed she’d revealed half that much to him, she looked at the floor. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.” He released her. At Susan’s room, two police officers gaped at their outfits and requested ID. The officers knew that Kiley would be arriving with two bodyguards and how their appearance would be altered, but procedure meant they checked ID at all costs. Once inside the ward, Kiley felt her anxiety escalate. Hawthorne stayed outside the room with the officers. Scott returned to that hard, expressionless mien he’d shown her on the day they’d first met. A glow of determination surged in her. She could do this. Kiley wanted to see her friend, not find herself caught in a web of misery. As much as she might try to escape reality, it would be there when she opened her senses to sight, sounds, and sensations. Without a word, she opened the door and moved to Susan’s bed. She stopped at the end where the railing formed a footboard. Travis sat in a chair near the bed, looking rough. His T-shirt appeared wrinkled, his hair mussed, and three days or more of stubble darkened his face. Susan’s bandaged face seemed a little better than it had when Kiley last saw her. Susan opened her eyes as Travis stood. “Good Lord,” Travis said, a smile on his face as he took in Kiley’s disguise. “Is that you, Kiley?” She grimaced. “Don’t say it.” “Then I will.” Susan’s voice sounded rusty, as if she hadn’t used it in eons. “Come over here and let me look at this ridiculous outfit.” Kiley smiled. “Like it? It is the ugliest wig I’ve ever seen, but Danger here says it’s an improvement on my repulsive mug. Goes with the silly miniskirt and this ridiculous smock top, don’t you think?” Susan gasped, then let out a tiny laugh. She winced in obvious pain. “God, girl, don’t make me laugh. Truly, that is one gross wig.” Kiley pulled the wig off and tossed the long, puffy, platinum blonde concoction onto a chair. She ran her fingers through her own hair with relief. “There.” Susan nodded toward Scott. “What are you going for? Biker of the year award?” Scott’s face lit up, and Kiley had to smile as well. He hadn’t worn the wig this time, but he’d added a blond mustache and beard. His black jeans, boots, white T-shirt, and black leather jacket screamed rebel from the rooftops. “How’d you guess?” he asked. 146

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“Must be the tight britches,” Susan said then laughed again. She groaned. “Kiley, it’s so good to see you.” She held out both her hands. “Hey.” Kiley stifled the urge to sob as the lump in her throat grew huge and tears filled her eyes. She sat on the edge of the bed. Gathering Susan’s pale hands in her own, she smiled as tears landed on her cheeks. Susan gave a tiny smile. “I’d hug you, but it would probably hurt like crazy,” Susan said hoarsely. “This rib is a bitch.” Kiley couldn’t hold back any longer. “I’m so sorry.” She pressed her friend’s hands, taking in the interlacing of bandages that crossed Susan’s face. Susan had two black eyes and her lips were swollen. Tears also glittered in her eyes. Physical and mental pain showed in her gaze, and it tore at Kiley’s insides. “I’m so sorry, Susan.” Susan frowned. “For what? I’m just glad to be alive and…maybe not kicking…but I’m here.” “Thank God,” Travis said, his gaze resting on Susan, happiness marked in his smile. Scott stepped forward. “I’m glad to see you’re doing better.” “Takes more than one bastard to get me down.” Susan swallowed hard. “Sure you two aren’t related?” Scott asked, grinning as he looked at Kiley. “Hey, watch it,” Susan said. Kiley wished the constriction in her throat would disappear before it choked her. Relief at Susan’s alertness, at the resilience she had shown, washed through Kiley in waves. Then she remembered her old friend Gabriella’s mental decline as she’d battled the fear that often came with victimization in a vicious crime. Gabriella hadn’t recovered even ten years later. She jumped at the most innocent sound or touch. Her nights remained filled with torturous dreams. A nurse popped into the room. “The police are here to question Susan. But we can’t have all of you here at once.” “I’ll take a coffee break,” Travis said, looking at Susan as if asking for permission. “Go on,” Susan said. “And have some food too. You’re skin and bones.” He did look skinnier, Kiley thought. Stress had whittled away calories better than any diet could. Travis laughed, obviously delighted with her teasing. “It’s been hard to get a pizza around here.” The nurse frowned at Kiley and Scott, as if her gaze alone would convey her wish that they leave the room. “I’d like Kiley to stay,” Susan said, releasing Kiley’s right hand. The nurse gave her a dubious look then nodded. “All right.” “I’m staying,” Scott said, his gaze implacable.

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As the nurse left, Kiley heard footsteps, and plainclothes police detectives came around the curtain. One was about fifty with a slight paunch and graying hair. He smiled at the small group and nodded. The policewoman looked young, but the seriousness in her blue eyes revealed she’d performed this job for several years. Tall, with sharp features, she was composed and professional. Kiley and Scott introduced themselves, and the older officer extended his hand first. “I’m Detective Sergeant Jones. This is Sergeant Bridges.” Sergeant Bridges nodded and shook hands. “We understand your situation, Miss Chapman, is possibly connected with the perpetrator who attacked Susan.” Susan gave a small gasp. “But how?” The officers told her what had happened to Kiley in the last few days. Kiley couldn’t help feeling angry the officers had spilled the information, even though she knew they must. Overall there was no reason to keep anything from Susan. “So Mr. Danger is actually a bodyguard?” Susan gazed at him. “You had me fooled.” He grinned and gave Kiley a sly glance. “It didn’t fool your boss.” “Figures. You’re lucky she didn’t kick your butt.” Susan winked. His smile widened as he crossed his arms. “She almost did.” “I’m glad you’re with her,” Susan said. “He’s not,” Kiley hastened to explain. “Not anymore.” “I turned in my resignation paperwork yesterday,” Scott said, sobering. “Then why are you here now?” Susan asked, the bandages unable to hide the inquisitiveness in her face. Kiley watched Scott swallow hard, as if there could be a lump in his throat too. “Kiley’s new bodyguard needed backup, and she asked for my help.” This didn’t satisfy the curiosity in Susan’s eyes, and Kiley wished he’d left out the part where she’d asked for his help. She didn’t want anyone forming the idea she needed him for anything beyond his professional brawn. “You wouldn’t have told me all this,” Susan said to Kiley. Kiley stood and went to the end of the bed, needing distance from the hurt in Susan’s face. Kiley’s legs felt rubbery as she watched Susan’s expression sadden. She wished she could spare her what would come. Would Susan find her nights punctuated by relentless nightmares? Would she feel as if everything around her had crashed into the basement? How would she cope with returning to her small house and wondering if each little sound meant an intruder? Kiley knew these horrors as constant companions until therapy, determination, and her own guts extracted her from the darkness. “Not until you were stronger,” Kiley said as if punctuating a sentence. Tears welled in her eyes again. “Not…”

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Scott rested his hand on Kiley’s shoulder, and she took a deep breath to quell the quaking in her stomach. No. She wouldn’t be sick right here, right now. Please. Just get me through this. Get me through this interview, away from Scott and Susan before I faint or run screaming from the room. She didn’t want them to see how much this affected her. She didn’t want sympathy because it would remind her of when she lost everything. Her way of life, her confidence, her safe existence. She glanced at Scott and in that instant saw deep sympathy and warmth that proved he did have feelings. Of course he did. He just had difficulty showing them. As she had told him not so long ago. He had to have control. In a way, they were two of a kind. The idea didn’t sit well with her. Kiley realized the officers were questioning Susan about the night of the attack. Susan shifted on the bed, her gaze retreating into the past. She shuddered. “He…I was just going into the office. I never even thought of locking the door behind me. I figured…” She took a deep breath. “A secure building…nothing could happen to me. As it was, it didn’t matter.” “Do we really have to put her through this now?” Kiley asked, her heart burning for the pain she saw in Susan’s eyes, and yet knowing what the officers would say. Detective Sergeant Jones nodded. “I’m sorry. It’s very critical.” He turned to Susan. “I know this is hard for you. But if we want to catch the creep who did this to you, we need this information right away.” Susan nodded slowly. “I understand, officer.” Sergeant Bridges continued to scribble notes on a pad nestled in her hand. “What happened then?” “I found my umbrella but then I noticed a light on in the break room. I didn’t remember leaving it on, but I figured we’d forgotten.” She shrugged and then grimaced in pain. Her left arm, connected to an IV, twitched. “I didn’t even have time to run.” Her lips trembled, and Kiley saw the storm coming. She moved toward the bed, taking Susan’s right hand and hoping to become the anchor her friend needed. “It’s all right,” Kiley said, pressing her fingers gently. Susan’s tears came, and they fell against her bruised flesh. “I’m fine.” She cleared her throat then took a long, deep breath. “He grabbed me by the neck. His hands were so cold and so strong.” She winced, obviously in pain from the battering her body had taken. “They were so strong I felt almost defenseless. I kicked at him, but it was futile. Finally I got my hands up to his face and scratched at him. He had to move back to avoid me gouging his eyes. I screamed and screamed, hoping one of the security guards would hear.” She stopped, as if needing the pause to gather her strength. “I yanked away when he moved back. He ripped and clawed at me while I tried to get

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away…but…but I blacked out when his hands went around my neck again. I couldn’t breathe. I thought I was dying.” As she relived the horror with her, Kiley’s tears fell relentlessly. Her fear swelled, as if she was the one fighting for her life. She tried to lasso her wayward emotions, but they wouldn’t come to heel. She abandoned the effort and allowed tears to come. “When I came to, he was running the tip of a knife down my thighs and tearing my panty hose as he went,” Susan said. Sergeant Bridges shifted suddenly and Kiley flinched. She looked at the police officer and noted the bleak concentration on her face. A subtle disgust twisted the woman’s lips. “Please go on,” Detective Sergeant Jones said gently. Susan nodded, her lower lip trembling. Kiley ached, wanting to tell everyone to leave Susan alone. Let her heal. Let her rest and remove the pain from her heart until the terrible incident dissolved into faded, broken pieces. “I…I couldn’t see his face because tears and blood clouded my vision. He’d hit me, I think, while I was unconscious. I panicked and jumped up. It took him by surprise and at first, he lost his grip on me. I hurt all over, but knew I had to run or he would kill me. Then I remembered in the back of my mind…” Susan’s gaze glazed over, as if she’d slipped back in time. “There was something familiar about him. Can you imagine thinking that at the same time you’re about to die?” “Familiar?” Kiley asked. Fear rippled through her body. “How?” Susan shook her head. “I don’t know. I wish I could put my finger on the feeling.” “We’ll have you meet with an artist. Maybe you can come up with a composite drawing,” Detective Jones said. “Now, can you tell us what happened after you tried to escape?” Susan explained, in minute detail, how her assailant grabbed her before she could get out of the break room. Kiley watched her friend’s face crumble again. “He hit me a few times. He held me up so I wouldn’t fall down after each punch. He once growled in my ear that he would come back and kill me if I breathed a word of this to anyone. Finally, he threw me against a wall. That’s how I broke the rib, I think. I don’t recall anything after that.” Detective Sergeant Jones asked her to elaborate on the feeling she knew the man, but she couldn’t recall more than a few details. “He was big. Tall and muscled. So strong I didn’t have a chance.” Tears stung Kiley’s lids, and she put her hand to her mouth. Trembling, she stood, wanting to flee, but willing to stay for her friend. When Scott’s hand fell on her shoulder again, she started. Scott’s warm, deep baritone voice feathered her ear. “You all right?” Susan’s stifled a sob. “God, I’m sorry, Kiley. I didn’t mean for this to remind you of—” 150

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“It’s not your fault,” Kiley said quietly, as if she spoke in the sanctity of a church. Moving from under Scott’s gentle grip, she straightened and shoved back her tears. She sat on the bed and gathered Susan’s hands in hers. “Don’t you dare be sorry. You’ve been through hell and back.” “But—” “Don’t worry about me. That was all a very long time ago.” “But I’ve upset you.” Kiley sighed. “Honey, you can’t help it. You can’t let this destroy you.” Susan nodded. “I won’t. Not with friends like you and Travis to keep me sane.” Kiley knew she was interrupting the interview, but right now, she only cared about her friend’s well being. They finished the interview thirty minutes later, and Kiley’s fear and fatigue weighed on her defenses. Her guard collapsed like weak concrete or faulty steel. Tears ran down her face continuously and she didn’t try to stop them. She didn’t sob or wail, but the pain deep inside boiled, waiting for a good moment to explode. Deep despair threatened to engulf her senses. She wanted to retreat to a place where the horror of the last few days couldn’t touch her. After the police officers left, Scott approached Kiley. He looked down at her, and though he didn’t touch her, she saw that same unease in his eyes. “Come on. I think you need to go home,” he said, as she sniffed and tried to wipe away the tears. “Go on,” Susan said, her composure returned. “I’ll be fine with Travis here. And thanks so much for supporting me. It’s wonderful to have you with me, Kiley.” Her friend’s sincere warmth kept the tears raining down Kiley’s face. “You’d do the same for me.” Kiley stood. “Are you sure you’ll be fine? I could stay.” “Go home and rest.” “If I had a home.” “Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry. I forgot…I shouldn’t have said—” Kiley waved one hand. “No. No. It’s all right. You take care.” She plopped the wig on her head. “I’ll talk to you later.” Scott guided her from the room, his arm slipping around her waist as he drew her close to his side. At one time, she might have protested the intimate touch, but nothing mattered in that moment. Once out of the hospital and on the road, Kiley leaned her head back and closed her eyes. The subtle purr of Hawthorne’s car lulled her into an uneasy sleep. When they reached the estate, she woke with a feeling of déjà vu. Ten years ago bodyguards had driven her to her uncle’s estate after she’d left the hospital. It seemed only seconds ago she climbed from the dungeon Barclay had built for her. She shuddered, cold even though the day turned hot.

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Inside the grounds of the estate, they piled out of Hawthorne’s car. Scott peeled off his mustache, and she removed the itchy wig. “May I come in for a moment?” Scott asked her. “I need to talk to you.” He glanced at Hawthorne. “Alone.” “Why?” she asked, surprised. Hawthorne gave Scott a dubious look. “Don’t mind me. I just work here.” He smiled and started to walk away. “I’ll check in with Mr. Chapman and with security. Talk to you later.” When Hawthorne ventured beyond hearing range, Scott turned to her again. “Where can we go that’s private?” With a big house like her uncle’s they could easily find a private location. Yet security, Hawthorne, and her uncle wandering about meant they could be disturbed any time. “What do you want to talk about?” she asked, crossing her arms. His finely carved mouth tilted in a smile as he said, “Kiley, you can’t hide it from me. You don’t need to hide it from me.” She sighed, tired and not willing to play games. “What are you talking about?” “You’re hurting.” She made a scoffing noise and headed for the front door. Before she could reach it, he grasped her arm. When she turned toward him, she glared. “Let me go.” He leaned toward her, crowding her with his larger body. “Not until you talk to me. Besides, you said if I rode shotgun this afternoon that you’d do anything I want. This is what I want.” “To talk?” He nodded. “Talk.” “And what makes you think, if I did need someone to talk to, that you’re the right person for the job?” she asked, backing up a step. He lowered his voice to a tantalizing whisper. “Because I understand post traumatic stress disorder.” She took a shuddering breath. His nearness made her feel safe, and she almost did the stupid thing and launched into his arms. “You wanted off this case. What does it matter to you now?” Releasing her arm, he cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb softly over her skin. Pure heat jolted into her stomach and warmth into her heart. “I’ve seen a lot of people battle PTSD without even knowing how to help themselves,” he said. “You knew how to find help ten years ago. I want to know why you can’t accept help now. Why, Kiley?” She did want help. Maybe. But not from this man who could already excavate her feelings. As his gaze traveled over her face, she saw the promise of something

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forbidden. It frightened her more than PTSD or spilling her guts. It even scared her more than Thorson and his thugs. “I’ll…I’ll get over it. All I need is more time.” “I know. Kiley, your house burned down, your best friend almost died. Why do you think you have to play Joan of Arc? Why can’t you allow yourself own up to your feelings?” She made a soft, doubtful noise, and the movements of her head made him drop his hand away from her face. “Because feelings can get you into trouble. I’ve had all the emotions I can handle for one day, thank you.” As he lowered his voice, she took in the glow of his gentle gaze. “Are you afraid of me?” “No. Of course not.” Vulnerability softened his determined gaze and his hard jaw. “Then why are you breaking your promise to do what I want?” “I…I…didn’t realize that was what you’d want, or I never would have agreed.” He shook his head and smiled sardonically. “What did you think I’d want? A kiss? I’d take that too.” When she stared at him, he said, “I’m sorry I failed you, Kiley.” If he’d uttered only those few words, he might not have cracked her resistance. The sadness that entered his eyes, though, demanded attention. Somewhere deep in Scott Danger’s soul, hid a man who needed healing as much as she did. She recognized it and realized that his offer was as much for himself as it was for her. Kiley could think of only one place to go. She knew how her offer would sound. “Come up to my room.”

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Chapter Fifteen As Kiley opened her suite and stepped inside, Scott followed. He did a recon of the room as he shut the door behind him. The room surprised him with its Victorian decor at contrast with the modern façade of the house. He imagined the house hid more secrets. She peeled off her denim jacket and tossed it over the arm of a chair. As he gazed at Kiley, Scott noticed the small nervous movements she made. Part of him liked the idea she might feel edgy, because that meant he had some effect on her other than annoyance. Yeah, he shouldn’t have said he would kiss her, just as he shouldn’t have snatched up her offer to come to her room like a starving man to a bowl of rice. Kiley didn’t invite him here so she could have sex with him. No. That wasn’t her way. But he saw the emotions battering her from all sides and wondered if she might consider it. If she offered herself to him, would he take her? He removed his leather jacket and hung it over the back of an easy chair by the fireplace. Kiley sank onto the small love seat situated in front of the fireplace and crossed her arms and legs. “So here we are. What do you want to talk about?” Her gaze did a slow foray over his T-shirt and jeans, and Scott wondered if she liked what she saw. He let his ego believe it, if only for a moment. His gaze centered on her thighs. When she crossed her legs, the miniskirt rode high. He let his gaze linger on that smooth, sexy expanse of skin. Desire settled deep in his gut, a burn and tingle as muscles tugged in his groin. God, she couldn’t know what she did to him, how insane she made him. “Are you just going to stand there and gawk all day?” she asked. Scott smiled. When he strode to the love seat and sank down, she didn’t even scoot away. Every fiber in his body screamed either to run or to haul her into his arms. But he wouldn’t do either. He wanted to understand the horror, fear and terrible sadness she’d displayed in the ICU. He turned to the side so his leg hitched up onto the love seat, his black boot hanging off the edge. Leaning against its arm, he draped his arm on the back of the couch. Uncrossing her legs, she turned slightly toward him. “Why do you want to help me?” she asked softly, folding her hands in her lap like a schoolmarm. “Because you need someone right now.” “Just anyone?” “Tell me what you’re feeling, Kiley. Let it out before you explode.” 154

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“I’ve got so much to work out. I don’t…I don’t…” “Don’t what?” “I discovered something in my uncle’s library that I don’t understand.” She retrieved the photo album from the coffee table. “This book holds a big mystery.” When Kiley explained her uncle’s reaction to her finding the album, his eyebrows dipped. “It’s got to be something serious. It wouldn’t surprise me if it has something to do with why Thorson is after you.” Scott reached for the book, removing it from her lap and flipping through it. Each photograph seemed to hide something. He could feel it deep, like a massage that never alleviated a muscle spasm. The mystery of what lay hidden in these faces called to him. Scott wanted to help her discover the answer to the mystery. Would she let him? Could he let himself do this? Why did he keep coming back for more of her life? After several moments, he closed the book and laid it on the coffee table. “I can see why you’re concerned.” Shifting on the love seat, he leaned forward and took her left hand in both of his. “Your hand is cold.” Kiley shivered, her small fingers trembling for a moment. He traced his fingertip over the top of her hand, and the gesture gave him more pleasure than it should have. She gasped. “Ticklish?” he asked. “I’m not answering that question.” She smiled and extracted her hand from his. “Mrs. Taggert filled me in on some of what happened to you years ago. But I don’t think that’s the half of it.” “Why are you asking me to rehash this?” “Because I want to understand why the strongest woman I’ve ever met almost broke down in the ICU.” Kiley shrugged and made an impatient noise. Standing up, she paced the room, traipsing from the coffee table to the fireplace. “I am strong. And I intend to remain that way.” Finally she stopped, clasping her hands behind her back. “I’d think my condo burning down, being stalked by black limousines and my friend almost killed is enough to make anyone crazy, wouldn’t you say?” He nodded. “This goes deeper. When you were at the hospital something triggered an intense reaction.” She stared at him, and Scott wondered how many people had heard her story. Her therapist? Her uncle? “I think you’ve been shoving people away,” he said when she remained silent. “All these years your friends have shied away from the subject.” “They thought it would hurt me to talk about it.” “But you probably showed them that tough, no-nonsense exterior and they didn’t think you needed the help. They couldn’t see through the shield you’ve put up.”

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Scott saw her face alter, and a fierce, hot anger twisted her lips. He imagined Kiley wanted to scream, rage, and tell him he was dead wrong. “I think it hurts you to talk about it because Barclay’s deception still incenses you after all this time. You feel like your vulnerability is his fault. But also you hate not taking responsibility for your actions.” Kiley didn’t answer. Instead, she paced until she stared at a large portrait of a cabin in the woods hanging over the fireplace. The picture looked inviting with its depiction of forest, fern and blue sky. When he looked at the painting, he wondered if such a paradise existed and if he could ever find that kind of beauty in his own soul. When he searched for the answer, Scott received a hollow acknowledgment. Nothing had been there but years of loneliness. Reality had taught him that beauty could disappear in seconds. Kiley had injected nature into her home by having houseplants spread over the place. Now that was gone. Burned to a literal crisp. Where would she find her own space again? Her peace? “You’ve read my file.” Kiley turned to him. “What do I have to tell you that you don’t already know?” “Reports can’t tell me everything.” Her body shuddered, the ripple starting in her shoulders. A haunted look entered her eyes. “I was only twenty and in my third year of college. My best friend Gabriella Archula and I rented an apartment.” She smiled sarcastically. “My father and uncle didn’t want me to room with Gabriella because it was in a rougher part of town. But we didn’t care. I wanted to rebel, and I did. It seemed like the perfect way to show I didn’t need family money to make it.” When his lips tipped up in a smile, she asked, “What?” “I can see you with that skunk stripe in your hair, and your eyes shooting sparks, defying everybody around you.” Sighing, Kiley sank onto the love seat. “I was a piece of work.” She tilted to the side so that her shoulder leaned against the back of the couch. She looked at her hands, pressed together in her lap. “I was in love for the first time in my life. Barclay Muldare. He was in my major. Communications with public relations minor. Barclay was…the first man who pierced my defenses.” When Kiley paused and a blush filled her face, Scott covered her hands with his. Her fingers moved, but she didn’t try to escape his touch. “How?” “He weakened me. I wanted to do anything and everything he wanted.” She paused long enough to stare into his eyes, as if she searched for some emotion. “My dad and Uncle Reggie liked him. He had money, and he was in a prominent family. But he had a nasty skeleton in his closet.” “Other than being a bastard?” “Two of his father’s uncles were sociopaths. And while Barclay’s father didn’t show any sign of mental illness, Barclay took after his uncles.” Kiley laughed, the sound acerbic. “I didn’t know this until after…until after he kidnapped me.”

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“Would that have changed what happened? If you’d known his uncles had mental health issues?” “Perhaps not. Barclay wasn’t stupid. He had a whole repertoire up his sleeve. He could zero in on any woman’s particular need and feed on that. Feed on it until she thought he was her soul mate.” “He manipulated your vulnerabilities.” “Precisely. I suppose if he’d been sane and philanthropic he would have made a good therapist or psychologist. Instead he was the dark side of the moon.” She shivered again, and Scott rubbed her hands with his, trying to warm them. When she stared at him and said nothing, he said, “Go on. I’m listening.” She looked at an indeterminate spot on the floor. “He didn’t just prey on a woman mentally, he…well…I’d known him less than a week before he knew how to…before he knew what turned me on. Sexually.” Surprised that she revealed this to him, Scott saw Kiley’s embarrassment and realized she admitted it reluctantly. She rushed on with her explanations. “He told me I was beautiful and funny. He acted as if I was the most stunning thing he’d ever seen.” Admission came out of him before he could stop it. “White stripe or no white stripe in your hair, you are the most gorgeous woman I’ve seen.” Seconds passed with nothing more than their soft breathing echoing between them, and her subtle fragrance teasing him. The small clock on the mantle bonged, and Scott jerked from the trance he’d fallen into. He caught her staring at him. “That kind of talk made me mistrust you in the first place,” Kiley whispered. He grinned. “Sorry. I haven’t learned how to keep my mouth shut when I think a woman is pretty. It isn’t in me to pretend. When we were in Genero’s talking about plain speaking, that seemed to scare you.” “Now you know why.” His jaw tightened. “So you assumed I was like Barclay?” “I assume any cocky, larger-than-life man is like Barclay.” “Self-defense.” “You could say that.” “You use physical and mental self-defense to keep the demons away.” “Good call.” She grinned. “Don’t tell me you read palms too?” Suddenly he wanted Kiley to confide every detail to him. Spill all of it. He shook his head. “No. Tell me more about this jerk.” She took a deep breath. “Barclay was rich, and my father and my uncle seemed pleased I was dating him. They knew his family. He was old money from Baltimore.” He grunted. “Figures they’d like him.”

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“But I’d dated many rich men. None of them treated me like Barclay. The things he did for me…I’d never believed the slick lines men tossed at me until I met him. He was different. He never told me he loved me.” She took a quivering breath. “Yet everything he did led me to believe it.” Pulling her hands from his, Kiley rose from the couch and headed toward a hutch that stood against the far wall. “I think there might be a bottle of whiskey in here—I saw it last night.” She opened the cabinet and found a half-full bottle of Canadian whiskey. Searching for a glass, Kiley turned to him. “My uncle has good taste. Sometimes. Want some?” “No. I’m driving, remember?” After pouring herself a generous measure of the amber liquid, she took a tentative sip. Kiley licked away a droplet that hovered on her mouth, and Scott watched her tongue pass over her lips. The sight of it heated his insides and he almost had to grit his teeth again. Christ, if she did that one more time, his cock would become harder than it already was. “Barclay and I dated for four months. He wined and dined me, and I absorbed it all. I loved the attention.” She made a scoffing noise. She tossed back the whiskey then poured another small measure. Striding back to the love seat and planting herself on it, she continued. “In the rest of my life I had the limos, the fast cars, the clothes…everything. Everything but love. My mother and father weren’t bad people, you see. They just didn’t show their affection very much. I don’t know why, but it seemed as if I was different from them. An oddball. We couldn’t connect.” With a growing, gnawing outrage, Scott contemplated what she’d told him. He shifted, sitting straight on the love seat, his legs sprawled open. His parents hadn’t been perfect when he was growing up, but they’d given him affection. True, his father had stayed cool and almost remote. Scott attributed that to a generation thing. Most men still had the idea they shouldn’t show tender emotions. “That must have hurt,” he said. “Nothing hurt more than Barclay’s deceit. I always prided myself on having a sixth sense about people.” His eyebrows rose. “As in ESP?” “I just called it my radar. And my radar was obviously all screwed up where Barclay was concerned. I should have detected the signs, but he played me like the proverbial fiddle. He was charming, but not too charming. His grades were always straight A’s. Everything from the diamond ring he wore on his right hand to the crease in his designer label pants said he was a great catch.” Her eyes turned the color of shadows and doubt. “I was a virgin until…” She put the whiskey glass down on the coffee table. Kiley looked up at him, a deep pain covering her soft features. He stirred with anger and sudden alarm. She couldn’t mean… 158

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He cupped her face in both hands. “God, Kiley. Did he…Mrs. Taggert didn’t say anything about him—” “He didn’t rape me.” Relief filled Scott, and he felt foolish for jumping to conclusions. He sagged back onto the love seat. The thought of any man hurting her brought wholly primitive emotions warring inside him. He wanted to keep her near where no other man could touch her. Scott looked at the portrait above the fireplace, detaching himself from Neanderthal emotions so his heart would stop racing and he could think clearly. Now that she’d gone this far, though, Kiley had to keep going. He had to know. Kiley saw the slow change in him and wondered if she’d imagined that moment when he looked like a savage. Someone who would hunt down Barclay and rip his throat out. An odd, appalling reaction tugged deep within her. She liked the feeling that he’d do this for her, and she wanted to scream in denial. To want this from him meant she must care for him. She continued with her story to avoid thinking about it. “Barclay made reservations for a hotel one night. I told Gabriella what I was doing.” She forced a mirthless laugh. “I had it planned right down to the sexy teddy I wore under my dress. I was such a fool. About a week later, he stayed over at my apartment. Gabriella was supposed to be staying with other friends. While I was there he drugged me. Spiked my champagne. Later I found out…” A chill ran through Kiley like an icy river, and she forced the next part past her tongue. “I heard later that while he was carrying me out, Gabriella came home unexpectedly. He put me down and attacked her. She was so surprised. Hell, she never would have suspected he’d do that. With only a couple of blows he permanently disfigured her face.” Kiley felt Scott’s hand on her hair again. He tucked a strand behind her ear, then let his index finger trail down her cheek. “It’s okay. Tell me the rest.” His gentle request pushed her forward. “When I woke up…” She closed her eyes, willing the horrifying image of waking up in total darkness to disappear. “When you woke up?” he asked softly. “I was lying on this bed…a double bed in this vast room. It was almost dark. I could see enough to realize that I was in some subterranean nightmare. But it might as well have been a coffin.” Images hit Kiley with force. Keeping her eyes shut, she said, “It was so cold. So very cold. There were no windows and the only door was made of metal. I pounded on it until I bruised my fists. I screamed and raged.” Memories and fear crawled up on her. “The walls were some sort of rock, so I knew no one could hear me. Still, I yelled until I was hoarse. I think I was more angry than scared at first.” She sucked in a ragged breath. “I knew he’d put me there, but I couldn’t imagine why. I was devastated that he

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would attempt to hurt me. When I saw the damp walls, it suddenly occurred to me that he’d mentioned a cave on his property. Then I realized where I was.” Suddenly Scott clasped her shoulders, and Kiley jumped, gasping. Her eyes snapped open. Her pulse thrummed and goose bumps tingled over her body. “It’s okay.” He gently caressed her skin with his palms. The heat of his fingers warmed her. “It’s okay. You’re safe.” “Yes.” Scott released her, and she almost begged him to hold her. Touch me, please. Warm me against these insane memories. She knew, though, that nothing could shield her from what had happened. Nothing. “In the six days I was there, he came twice a day to bring me food and water. I had my own bathroom. You wouldn’t believe how he had this place rigged.” “Did he say why he kept you prisoner?” “I tried to get him to talk. But he just looked at me with those cold, heartless eyes. Until the last two days. Then he said he would kill me. He told me he’d killed Gabriella.” Kiley covered her face with her hands, tears jamming the back of her eyelids. She took two deep breaths, and removed her hands from her face. “When I decided I had to think of a way to escape, my family and the police were already searching for me. Gabriella was in a coma, so she couldn’t tell them anything. They went by Barclay’s home. They didn’t know he’d turned this old cave into a sort of weather shelter.” “Weather shelter?” “It was several acres back from the house. He told the police we hadn’t even been together that night. He let them search the house. No sign of me, of course, so they moved on.” Aversion marred Scott’s features. “What happened then?” “I escaped on the sixth night. I planned it so when he brought me a meal…” She trailed off as the memory attacked her, surging forward as if it might have been yesterday. Kiley closed her eyes. The door opened, creaking on rusty hinges as Barclay entered the room. She had barely enough illumination to see. A night light by the small bathroom. Standing behind the door, she waited…waited. Her heart hammered and her breath hitched in her tight throat. Her palms sweating profusely as she held the lamp in her other hand. Please, God. Give me strength. Get me out of here, get me out, get me out… She swung back as he came around the door… “I…I hit him over the back of the head with a lamp. I heard this sickening crack, and I thought I’d broken his neck or cracked his skull. I didn’t know and I didn’t care. I ran and ran. Barclay didn’t have his gate locked, luckily for me. His house is several blocks away from any other house. When I reached one home, nobody was there. I finally made it to a corner store and called the police.”

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Kiley opened her eyes. His hands gripped hers once again, and she held on, grateful for the anchor. “You were very brave. Not everyone could have survived.” “Yeah. And I was a grade A, number one idiot.” “You were in love with what you knew about him. Not with the man he really was.” “But don’t you see? I can never trust myself again with that type of relationship. I wouldn’t know when I was making the same mistakes all over again. I can’t trust anyone.” “That’s not true, Kiley.” “How do you know? How could you possibly know?” Scott leaned toward her so his arm came down on the back of the couch. Instead of shying away, Kiley refused to let his masculinity frighten her. “Not all men are like him, and you know it. I’m not like that.” “Intellectually I know it. Emotionally I don’t. And until I can accept that, no man can be in my life that way.” He remained silent for several moments before he gave her a measuring stare. “Tina wrapped me around her little finger and manipulated me in the ways you’ve described. She didn’t physically hurt me. She didn’t imprison me in a dungeon. But I understand part of how you must feel. It’s made things difficult relating to women after Tina.” Feeling out of sorts, she said, “I don’t see you developing a meaningful relationship with a woman.” He quirked one eyebrow. “I never said that I wasn’t in a relationship.” Stunned, Kiley stared at him. She took a deep breath as disappointment washed through her. Oh, damn. I’m not jealous. Am I? “Then you are dating someone special?” she asked. “I didn’t say that either.” Kiley leaned over and grabbed her whiskey, tipping it back and taking a generous swallow. She almost choked on the fiery liquid. Putting the glass down forcefully, she said, “Talk about me being cryptic.” “Why do you care if I have a special woman in my life?” Her radar came up. “Stop playing with me.” “I haven’t dated in a very long time. For many of the reasons you’ve just outlined. I don’t need the aggravation of a long-term commitment when all it can bring me is pain. But you deserve more.” His gaze pinned her to the spot. “You’re a beautiful, vibrant, exciting woman. You deserve a man who cares for you. Really cares. Not just someone who is crazy…or crazy about you.”

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Kiley saw the change come over him as he spoke, and watched in fascination as Scott came closer and closer, until she lay against the arm of the couch. “What are you doing?” she asked breathlessly, breathing in his spicy scent. “I’m trying to get you to see sense. To realize you’re worth a lot more than—” “You don’t have to tell me my worth. I know where my weaknesses and strengths lie.” She put her hands on his shoulders, but Kiley didn’t know if she was trying to hold him back or bring him closer. He caught her hands and held them against his chest, and she felt his heart beating under her fingers. “You can trust me,” he said softly. “I’d cut off my arm before I hurt you. Shit, I’d cut off both arms.” His voice whispered a forbidden promise she feared and wanted. “Why?” Kiley could feel the warmth of his breath as his mouth hovered over hers. “Why would you do that for me?” “Because every time I’m around you I want to kiss you.” His voice dropped, turning deep and husky with promise. “And I want to do a lot more.” “Oh.” The sound came out breathless and surprised. “More?” “More.” Her skin quivered, her muscles bunching in exquisite excitement, her breasts aching. Scott hovered on the cusp of losing it. His breath came quicker, his pupils dilated, his nostrils flaring the slightest bit. Suddenly she wanted to see it. Let the top blow off and show her exactly what would happen when he lost control. Swallowing hard, Scott started to draw back. “But I’m not going to touch you because I won’t be accused of taking advantage. When I said I’d take a kiss as payment for escorting you to the hospital, I wasn’t kidding. But now I’ve heard your story, I won’t.” His gaze searched hers and held it captive. “And I’m not the man to give you what you need.” She ached deep inside with a need, all right. “What can you give me?” “What?” Without waiting for a full answer, Kiley reached out and cupped his face with both hands. “What can you spare?” “Nothing.” He reached up and took hold of her wrists. “Then I’ll give you something.” She slowly pulled Scott’s face down toward hers. “For escorting me to the hospital. And for listening to me.” She knew she’d lost her mind, but she didn’t give a rip. Kiley gave Scott the last little tug forward that brought him close enough, and took his mouth with hers.

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Chapter Sixteen Sweet, sweet pleasure ignited Kiley as Scott molded his lips to hers. Soft. Unbearably tender. Excruciating in his gentleness, he wrapped his arms around her. But the slow, tantalizing touch of his lips altered until he ate at her mouth with building hunger. He slid his hand into her hair, cupping the back of her neck and holding her steady. His tongue plunged in to explore with a steady cadence that stirred deep throbs of need in her stomach and within her moistening folds. His touch in the gazebo had shown her the potency of her craving for him. His embrace called upon everything inside her that wished to give without reserve. Everything within gathered and tensed as commotion fluttered in her belly. She uttered a soft moan, a cry of surprise and delight. Here was a man who seemed to know everything about her. She’d revealed things, thoughts, feelings to him she’d never told anyone before. The very idea acted as a powerful aphrodisiac, spurring her passion. With a whimper of pure feminine response, Kiley let Scott know that his kiss inflamed her. She linked her arms around his neck, eager to give him whatever he needed and anxious to pay him back for listening to her. Kiley darted her tongue across his lips, probing until he opened to her search. A deep, primal sound came from Scott’s throat and added to her own excitement as she met his tongue and danced against it. Slowly lowering her onto the love seat, he wedged himself so he lay half over her. His body warmed her, protected her from raging emotions that battered her endurance. She needed the shelter and whatever tender loving he could spare. In that moment, Kiley knew he couldn’t be as hard-hearted as she once thought him. Her breathing quickened, and she heard his breath gathering speed as well. Scott moved and tucked his rock-hard thigh between her legs, pressing against sensitive feminine tissues. On and on they kissed, and Scott allowed Kiley to explore his mouth with abandon, giving her the power. His scent tantalized her, and she shifted, gripping his shoulders and testing the heat and hardness of his biceps. The way he moved against her, the potent combination of tenderness and power bombarded every inhibition. Sweet urgency propelled Kiley to thrust against Scott. She wanted to open everything to him. As she arched, his hips lowered between her thighs, bringing Kiley into startling contact with his erection. At the same time, Scott cupped her right breast, and she gasped into his mouth. He took over the kiss, tongue thrusting, devouring, his hips thrusting with a movement that mimicked an act she couldn’t deny. Thrusting his cock against her most vulnerable point caused pleasure to dart around her body, settling

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deep between her legs. Like sparks from a wayward fire, she ignited. Everything she’d kept back, every worry she’d formed about caring for another man melted. As his thumb flicked over her nipple, she made a small cry and her nipple beaded into a taut point. The thin smock did nothing to protect her against the heat. She yearned for his touch with a force that hit her like a meteor, and she arched against his hand. His tongue continued an erotic rhythm in her mouth, his hips keeping a slow rotation. Her clit ached, the steady stroke of his cock over her sensitive point quickening a fierce need for completion. Then his lips retreated, and he pressed slow, soft kisses against her mouth. She almost protested and demanded he kiss her as he had before, but the gentle kisses thrilled her as much as their erotic tango. Breathing deeply, she inhaled his distinctive hot male scent. Oh, he smelled so good. She didn’t know where she touched him, her thoughts drawn to his hands on her body and each maddening plunge of his hips as solid cock bumped her clit with a cadence that screamed conquest and demand. With unerring accuracy, he found her thigh, and a soft grunt of male satisfaction left his throat as he moved upward, cupping her hip and skimming over the cotton string bikini panties. Shivering, Kiley pulled his shirt out of his jeans and felt the smooth skin of his back as muscles bunched and rippled. Scott shivered as she caressed him, and she delighted in his response. So much power was hidden in his physique, but his attention, his gentleness showed he cherished and protected her. Heaven help me. His touch is twenty times more powerful than Barclay’s. Thirty times more maddening. His mouth moved from hers and slid down to her neck, where he nuzzled and tasted with gentle forays. Small fires started from each point he touched. Kiley gasped as he reached her ear, and the sound of his breathing, fast and a little out of control, notched her excitement upward. When his tongue touched her earlobe, she quivered. His caresses made her tremble, the tempo of her arousal building in a mindless, hot rush that he stroked brighter with every touch. His hand tightened on her hip as he continued his tantalizing rhythm of cock rubbing her clit relentlessly. Again… Again…and again. Oh. God. “Oh. God.” The words escaped her lips. “So hot. Sweetheart, you are so fuckin’ hot.” His rough and brazen statement sent a new spiral of abandon dancing through her. When he stopped moving his hips, she made a small sound of objection. Scott caught her lips with his at mid-protest. His fingers pulled her smock upward, and before she knew it, he opened the front of her bra and his hot fingers cupped her naked breasts. Kiley pulled her lips from his as unrivaled gratification made her wriggle beneath him. He gently pinched her nipples between his index fingers and thumbs. Another 164

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inarticulate sound issued from her as he kissed an exquisite path down her throat and circled his way around her breasts with tiny kisses. She screamed inside with the need to make love to him—nothing mattered but this second…this next minute. And as desire spiked high within her, the tiniest fear filtered through. “Danger,” she whispered hoarsely. He looked up at her, his eyes filled with fierce desire. He caressed her nipple, tugging it between his fingers as he said, “Come on, honey. Give in to it.” The endearment, so unlike anything she would have expected from him, made a warm, tender glow mix with her desire. “I need…” “Take what you want,” he said, his tone husky and deep with sensuality. “Just take what you want.” “Please…” She couldn’t say it. Kiley couldn’t tell him what she felt because she didn’t recognize the woman she’d become. “Please…” He circled her nipple with his tongue, establishing a rhythm. Her heart thundered, drummed in her ears as he took one rosy crest and licked with the most gentle touch. Each bold stroke quickened the coil of desire in her womb. She gasped and arched. After tormenting one nipple he moved to the next. When Kiley thought she’d go out of her mind, Scott drew her nipple into the heat of his mouth and suckled. Deep between her legs muscles clenched hard and released then tightened again. As she clutched his head to her breast, he pushed his hand under one side of the barely there panties. With one sharp tug, he ripped the string bikini off her hips. She gasped in surprise and gloried in the brutish, sexual demand. His fingers headed directly to his target. As he slipped between warm wetness and one finger penetrated, she bumped her hips up and let out a strangled cry. Then everything faded away but the touch of his hand and his mouth on her breast. His finger stroked, then he inserted another long, thick finger, separating them to caress against her sensitive inner walls. He sucked ruthlessly on her nipples, moving from one breast to another, tormenting with licks, then deep pulls. His fingers thrust deep, then he inched them out until he reached her G-spot and started to caress with upward, steady movements. She writhed, she trembled, she quickened in a mindless rush of swelling need. Kiley thought she’d lose her mind as pleasure more beautiful than any she’d known caused her complete surrender. Every stroke inside her and each feathering touch of his finger over the most sensitive spots made her world dance. With maddening, persistent pressure he stroked her G-spot. His fingers slipped out and circled her clit, dancing over the hardened nub. She could no longer bear it. Little gasps and cries burst from her as the excitement built. His lips clamped down on her nipple once again, sucking hard. His fingers stopped moving. Scott looked down on her, his face flushed, his breath coming quick between his parted lips.

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“So beautiful,” he murmured, and gave Kiley a reverent, gentle smile that sealed the moment for her. “So beautiful.” A sob parted her lips, frustration and need gathering like a supernova inside her. “Shhhh,” he whispered, reassuring her with a gentle kiss to first her nose then her cheeks. When Scott pushed two fingers deep into her and started a steady tempo, she gasped and quaked with ecstasy. She’d never climaxed when a man did just this. He had to touch her— As he quickened his pace, Kiley felt the first tremor start, removing all doubt. “No,” she whispered. “You can.” His mouth smothered hers and his tongue thrust deep. She found he was right. Every tight muscle inside her burned, tingled and pulsed. She’d never— No, she’d never— He thrust and thrust until— The ecstasy roared inside her. Kiley screamed into his mouth. Indescribable joy burst inside her pussy as he held her tight and kissed her deeply. He kept moving his fingers inside her, still kissing her. When he withdrew, he once again caressed her clit, tugging the small organ between his fingers. “Oh,” she gasped. She couldn’t stand it. The friction, the burning sweetness was almost too much to bear. He did it again, a triumphant smile parting his lips. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she tilted her head back. He did it again. Again. Again. It took a few more caresses before she came apart in his arms again, her silent pleasure showing as she quivered against him. Kiley sucked in deep draughts of air as she came down to earth, her head swimming with a cloudy, heady feeling. When she opened her eyes she saw the animal intensity in Scott’s gaze, and the flush across his cheeks as he drew in deep breaths. She reached up and cupped his cheek, brushing her fingers over his skin. “What…about…you?” His gaze altered, cooling but holding a sexual awareness. “What about me?” Kiley reached for the zipper on his jeans. Scott grabbed her hand before it could reach its destination. He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it. “No.” Instinctively she reached for him, her hand resting on his erection and brushing over it. Inhaling, he grabbed her hand and pulled it away. “Don’t.”

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She looked at him, confused. “I didn’t bring anything with me,” he said. The glow behind his smile became pure rogue in every sense of the word. Every time he tossed that incredible grin at her, the world seemed to stop and then start with a jerk and a leap. Her pulse picked up. Leaning forward, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead then brushed back her hair. “Right now I couldn’t take it,” he said. “I could—” He kissed her until her heart pounded. Then he drew back and whispered into her ear. “Next time…next time I’ll be deep inside you. I promise that. When I can protect you. When I can fuck you hard and deep.” A huge blush burned her face. God, she never believed she would feel this selfconscious after everything they’d done, but his no-holds-barred words made her heart pound and anticipation rush through her veins. The words said it all. He revealed a part of himself she never would have expected. This tough, hard-as-nails man could be incomparably tender. That Scott kept his senses and thought about the consequences of no birth control impressed her. He cared for her enough to take responsibility, and that overwhelmed her frustration. Her feelings for him deepened. Heaven help her, she already felt far too much for him. As Scott gazed at her, those feelings grew stronger and stronger until she became frightened. The last time a man had made her want him she lost her self, her virginity and almost her life. She shook her head. “I lost control.” Scott chuckled. “And it was beautiful.” His expression changed from mirth to pure male satisfaction. Kissing Kiley’s forehead, her cheek, and then her chin, he sighed deeply. “I’ve never seen anything so damned sexy in my life.” Slowly he moved down her body, pressing warm kisses as he went. Each touch felt soft and sweet and gentler then she could have imagined mere hours ago. This man amazed her. He left the couch then urged her with his hands to sit up with her legs over the side of the couch. For a brief moment she wondered if their play was over—her heart ached with the idea. Then he knelt on the floor in front of her. As he threw her a wicked grin, he slipped his big hands under the skirt and over her inner thighs. Her muscles twitched in reaction. Self-consciousness made her trap his hands. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Do you want me to stop?” “No.” And so he inched the skirt up and up and up until he had full view. She leaned back and closed her eyes, wanting to savor whatever delights he intended for her next. Anticipation and apprehension mixed in one confusing soup, but she decided to let herself go, to reach for the pleasure that had screamed through her body a short time

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ago. Like a drug, she wanted more of his potent heat. His palms caressed with firmer strokes along her thighs until the ticklish sensation disappeared and pure excitement remained. Leaning forward, he licked the inside of her right thigh, then pressed kisses with tender reverence. She drew in a sharp breath and he stopped. “Okay?” he asked. “More than okay,” she said on a sigh. “God,” he said hoarsely. “I’ve wanted to do this…to taste this sweet little pussy for days.” She opened her eyes and saw the truth in the primal wildness in his eyes and the flush on his cheeks. He’d wanted all of this and more. “Please.” One word set him off for good. He clasped her ass cheeks and held on, gripping her butt, squeezing as he made sure she was at the edge of the couch and easily accessible. His gaze smoldered as he feasted on her with his eyes first. “I’ve been thinking way too much about what you’d look like down here. How wet, how soft. What you taste like and what sounds you’d make. When I tasted your pussy in the gazebo I knew I’d never get enough.” Heat burned her face at his unrepentant description. It stirred deep, raw quickening inside her. His throaty laugh muffled as he returned to the delicious caresses. She gasped as his tongue found her thighs. With each swipe of his tongue, each sampling with his lips, he progressed higher and higher. Her breathing quickened once more. A gnawing need rose in her womb, a screaming need for fulfillment. He reached her intimate folds, his fingers soothing over her slick, swollen labia. As his thumbs parted her, he dove in to consume Kiley in one ravenous lick. Her whole body moved as the lick swiped over her clit. She gasped in pleasure then moaned as he thrust his tongue into her sopping core. Like a penis, his tongue worked inside her, thrusting in and out. She stiffened then shuddered under the beautiful pleasure. She grew wetter under his attention, her body moving as her fingers clutched at the upholstery. He touched her gently, his tongue so hot. Her body hummed with expectation, eager to know more. As his tongue started a rhythm, she quaked under the building pressure, groaning as exquisite pleasure rose second after second. His hands dove down to massage her thighs with sensuous knowledge, as if he understood the feminine essence, the part of her that yearned for ultimate fulfillment in the deepest, most exquisite way. Little moans escaped her throat as her thighs opened wider. He moved in closer and lifted her thighs over his shoulders. Ah, yes. She felt like a meal on his plate…this man intent on devouring. Movement after movement, his tongue explored, his fingers thrust. As he speared two fingers deep into her soft channel, his mouth closed over her clit and sucked, his tongue adding to the overwhelming sensations. Joyful tears sprang to eyes. No man had given her this in quite the same way, understood her body with such magnificent abandon. His second seduction had her wanting, ready to beg as she panted and

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moaned under his caresses. Seconds later the fire engulfed her, and as his tongue laved over her clit and his fingers thrust, she stiffened. Shuddered. She clamped a hand over her mouth and screamed wildly under an ecstasy better than the last. Her clit throbbed, her vagina clamping and releasing on the fingers he moved steadily inside her. She heard his breathing and opened her eyes. Scott looked ready to come himself, his chest rising up and down, his lips moist, his eyes animal in intensity. She straightened, her breath still coming quickly from the sheer physical and emotional impact of the climax. “Scott…that was…” She shook her head. “Incredible. I’ve never felt anything so amazing.” He frowned and as his fingers slipped from her pussy, the lingering arousal sent blissful tingles through her body. “You’ve never had an orgasm like that before today?” She grinned. “Never one as mind-expanding.” He grinned. “Awesome.” He wriggled his eyebrows. “I want to do more than expand your mind.” As she laughed, lightheartedness entered her soul. Passion stayed undeniable in his eyes, but she also saw patience and satisfaction in the depths of his gaze. Her attention flickered down to his cock, hard against the zipper of his jeans. “Are you sure you don’t want me to—” “Remember what I said. When I can be inside you.” Inside you. The very idea sent fresh flutters of excitement to her belly. He sat up, and she hooked her bra and buttoned her blouse. She pulled the miniskirt down as far as it would cover her, but it was no use. His gaze skipped over her, and the hot assessment scorched Kiley. “Under all that starch and denial, Kiley, is one sexual wildcat,” Scott said, rising from the floor and standing over her. Reality set in faster than she could snap her fingers. The air smelled of sex, moistness. Moistness lingered between her thighs, a steady reminder of what just occurred. Then there were her red panties lying on he floor, their tattered remains a definitive reminder of animal needs unleashed. “I never would have guessed how wild you are,” he said, his voice throaty, deep with unspent desire. Her memory flashed back to another time. As Kiley pulled back from another of Barclay’s kisses, she saw the windows on his limo rental had literally steamed up. She felt almost dizzy with the passion, and yet something inside her said what they had together wasn’t quite right. Their lovemaking lacked an essential element she couldn’t define. “You’re incredible,” he said, his gaze barely discernable in the low light. “You just needed the right man to bring out your wild side.” Kiley snapped back to the present.

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“Please…please could you give me some time alone,” Kiley said softly, standing up and gesturing at the door. His sultry grin turned immediately to a frown. He put his hands on his hips. “What?” She smiled. “It’s all right. I just need some time alone to think.” He opened his mouth as if to protest then clamped his mouth shut. Without a word he turned and pulled on his jacket. Inside she burned with the knowledge of what had happened between them. Hadn’t she gotten herself into trouble before when she allowed her baser needs to rule? When he turned around, his eyes told her all. Moments before, as he’d caressed her, she witnessed fire and passion in his gaze. Now she saw caution wrapped in confusion. Scott took one step toward her and she moved back. His lips tightened. “So that’s how it is.” “This has been one hell of a day and I’m confused. I don’t know what I’m doing.” One corner of his mouth turned up in a sarcastic grin. “I agree. You don’t.” That stung. Whether he spoke of her common sense or her passion she couldn’t say, but either choice hurt. “I just hope you decide what you want soon, Kiley. For your sake.” He turned and walked toward the door. Kiley almost called out to him as he turned the doorknob and left without another word. Flustered, angry with herself and him, she went into the bathroom to take a shower. And for the second time that day Kiley let the tears flow until she could cry no more.

***** The killing machine ground his teeth as he swatted at an insect buzzing around his head. Frustration hammered at him. He hadn’t tracked the bodyguard to where the Chapman bitch was staying. Thorson tied him up for the better part of the day wanting to know what he planned. He peered from behind the hedges surrounding Danger’s apartment complex. He’d left his car far down the road, then walked the mile to the building. He didn’t feel exhausted or even out of breath. A mile was nothing for him. He crouched lower into the bushes, and cursed Thorson with every anathema he’d uttered in his life. Since he couldn’t get what he wanted from Thorson, he would freelance. No way would Thorson tell him to buzz off and stop. No way. He had something mighty fun planned for that bitch whore Chapman. Even Thorson’s death would feel good…very good. He felt his insides tremble with excitement. Yeah. That was it. Yeah…

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***** Wednesday afternoon sun slid down into the clouds as Scott drove back to his apartment. The day drifted into early evening as he made his way from the realtor’s office, keys to the cabin in hand. He’d done it. He’d completed paperwork to purchase the cabin. Tomorrow he’d head to the mountains for a good, long time. Once in isolation he would find the answer to his obsession. Or maybe he could at least stop obsessing. Fat chance. A minute didn’t seem to go by when he didn’t think of Kiley. Damn her beautiful, sexy, impetuous little— “Damn her,” Scott growled. He wished he’d never stepped foot in Reggie Chapman’s house yesterday. He rolled down the window of his car and let fresh air rush inward, and he inhaled the scent of an approaching summer storm. Then, as the cars in front of him slowed, exhaust overwhelmed nature. He pushed the electric button and closed the window. Turning on the air conditioning, he aimed the air directly at his face. He needed to cool down. Then again, Kiley made him so wound up he might never cool off again. He couldn’t close his eyes to fantasize about her, but his memories seared into his brain nonetheless. It had taken almost everything he had to leave her on that couch, his gut clenching with desire. He remembered too well what it felt like when his fingers had slipped deep into the tight, muscular heat of her wet sex. How pretty her springy, dark curls had looked as he’d eyed her pussy, how she’d tasted so sweet under his tongue as he’d flicked over the hard nub and brought her to a screaming, magnificent orgasm. Watching her strain for completion, watching her throat and cheeks flush with sexual abandon had burned him like a brand. He groaned. God, he had to stop thinking about her. Turning on the radio, Scott pushed a button on the multi-function steering wheel and surfed for news. When he couldn’t find facts to distract his thoughts, he settled for a pop station. Immediately a song of love and fidelity played, and he mused on the lyrics. The country western tune spoke of anger, despair and the irony of love. Not so long ago he might have switched the song off, certain he’d never understand the feelings expressed. “Oh, God.” It hit him then that he’d long ago started the steep descent into the hell designed of hearts, flowers and everlasting devotion. It grabbed him by the short hairs. He dangled, swaying in midair, awaiting his fate. It hurt and he didn’t want to believe he’d done it. Kiley Chapman acted like a drug on him, and he must get away from her for the last time. When she’d touched his cock, obviously more than willing to have sex, Scott had almost lost it for the first time in his entire life. He’d wanted to jerk open his jeans, flip her over on her stomach and plow straight up into that soft, wet channel.

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He could have had mind-blowing, gut-wrenching, grinding sex with a beautiful woman and he’d stopped. But Scott knew then that even with protection available he wouldn’t have made love to her. Not in that moment. Later she might have believed he’d taken advantage of her vulnerable state. He would have wondered at his own motivations. He groaned. Son of a fuckin’ bitch, it would have been so fine. His mind ventured beyond reason to thoughts of snug, wet tightness…pumping into her…hearing Kiley gasp with pleasure as he thrust deep and hard and— “Shit!” Squealing the tires, he turned swiftly into his apartment complex parking structure and slammed on the brakes as he slid into his designated spot. Thoughts of sex distracted him so freaking much he’d almost driven by his building. As he left the car he noted the day had dulled and turned isolated, the clouds above darkening the world with something like dread. Scott didn’t like this feeling, and he’d had it only a few times. When his life hung in the balance during a couple of missions with Special Forces, and when he thought Kiley might be hurt or killed in the fire. He knew. Someone watched him. His breath quickened, his muscles preparing for a fight as a distinct impression of impending doom trickled up his spine and lodged in his chest. The large courtyard was quiet this time of day as he strode across the cobblestone walk. Few people would be outside on a weekday…not lounging on the benches under the trees, or lingering in the hot tub situated in a secluded corner of the yard. Still, the quiet made him itchy. As Scott turned the corner and made his way toward his private entrance, the hedge close to the door threw dark shadows along the walk. His awareness increased. Every subtle movement of leaves as they rustled, every sound of birds singing beyond the hedge heightened his trepidation. A still breeze whispered through the trees and blew his hair into his eyes. He pushed his key into the lock. His hair blinded him. Something alerted him to swipe the hair out of his face and turn with a speed he learned to use many years ago. Instinct. Scott moved in time to block the downward chop to his neck, the blow glancing off his shoulder. But he couldn’t avoid the thrust of the knife as it came up toward his chest with furious speed.

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Chapter Seventeen Old Joe knew something wasn’t right. It had been far too long since he’d seen Kiley or Susan around the office building. Way too long. He trundled from his alley home and made his way down the street to the soup kitchen. Maybe he’d talk to Hawthorne and a few other people and see if they’d heard of anything weird going down. Hawthorne always seemed to know. As a horn blared next to him, and two teenagers yelled from a beat-up red convertible, Joe flinched and leaned against the building. They laughed and flipped him the bird as they roared passed. Joe yelled back and held his fist up. Freakin’ idiot kids. They didn’t make ankle-biters like they used to. Sick, demented bastards. He turned away as the souped-up car gave a throaty roar and zipped around the corner. They’d end up in an early grave. No doubt about it. The old saying that the good died young was bullshit. He’d seen two many assholes die in Vietnam who were jerks at nineteen when they died. They wouldn’t have been any nicer at fifty. As he approached Ascension Catholic Church on the corner, he knew those kids wouldn’t grow up nice like Kiley. Or like Susan. Nope. Kiley and Susan treated him like a human being. He’d seen understanding in their eyes. His worry for them filled his stomach with acid and made the hunger in his belly diminish. Joe pushed the big wooden doors at the side of the church, and as he went inside, he saw a few other people like him. He didn’t really know them, but they nodded as he walked up to the line. By the time he reached the head of the line, the acid in his stomach left and his hunger gnawed. When he reached the end of the counter, he saw a new person serving up bread and biscuits. A young lady with short copper-red hair covered by a hair net grinned at him. She wore an apron and plastic gloves too. As she placed a butter yellow biscuit on his plate, steam rose off the fluffy bread and he licked his lips. His stomach followed with renewed hunger. “Hello,” she said. Her warm greeting made him feel welcome. Joe liked her instantly. “Haven’t seen you before.” “I’m filling in for a friend.” “Friend?” “A man I work with. Kyle Hawthorne.”

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Happiness broke through him. “He’s a damn good man.” The woman smiled again, her red lips reminding Joe of a young lady he’d kissed many, many years ago. Way before the war had taken her from him. “Yes, he is.” Joe cleared his throat then coughed. He remembered his manners in time and covered his mouth with his hand. “Where is he?” “He couldn’t be here today. He’s working on a case.” “Hey,” the man next to him growled. “Yer holdin’ up the line.” Joe ignored him. “I gotta talk to him.” Her brow furrowed and she frowned. “Is something wrong?” Joe looked from side to side, giving the grumpy man next to him a suspicious glare. “Can’t talk about it.” The pretty girl’s frown deepened. “You can trust me.” The man next to Joe elbowed him in the side. “Come on. Stop flirtin’ with her and get outta my way.” “Take it easy. Let’s not start a fight.” The redhead came around the counter and took Joe’s arm. “Janice, can you take my spot for a moment?” she asked a woman in the back. When she received a quick acknowledgment, she headed Joe toward an empty table. He liked her even more now than he did a few moments before. Her slim body, covered in a worn white T-shirt and faded jeans, reminded him of his exwife. He winced at the memory, shoving it away as he sat down. The young woman settled close to him. Joe shoved a fork full of green beans into his mouth. “How do I know I can trust you?” he asked as he chewed. “I’m Hawthorne’s friend, like I said. We work together at Taggert Security Team.” She held out her hand. “I’m Tammy Carter.” He hesitated to touch her. His hands felt grimy, and he couldn’t remember the last time he washed them. Or his body. But this girl didn’t shy away or wrinkle her nose. When Tammy kept her hand out, determined to greet him, he smiled. He clasped her hand. “Joe. Joe Cartolli.” Her palm felt cool, dry and smooth, and he wondered if Hawthorne enjoyed her touch. He didn’t understand why he thought about that. Maybe because of her beautiful smile, and he thought Hawthorne deserved a warm, good woman. She released his hand. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Joe. Hawthorne’s mentioned you before.” She leaned her elbows on the table and propped her chin in one hand. “He likes you very much.” He nodded. “He’s a fine man.” “So, tell me what you need help with. I can get a message to Hawthorne anytime.” He shook his head. “I gotta talk to him face-to-face.”

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She sighed. “Hawthorne is protecting someone right now. I don’t know when he’ll be back to the kitchen.” “Who’s he guarding?” Wariness entered her bright eyes. “I can’t say.” He bit into his slice of ham. “You asked me to trust you.” She chewed her lower lip thoughtfully, looking into the distance. “All right. Her name is Kiley.” Surprise and anger mixed within him. “What’s happened to her?” he rasped the question, his mouth dry as desert. “What’s happened?” “You know her?” She sat up straight. “From where?” “Yeah. She works over at the Dexter building. I know her and her friend Susan. I haven’t seen them in awhile and I wondered where they went. I knew something was wrong.” She swallowed, and he watched the movement. “Is this what you wanted to tell Hawthorne?” “Yeah. And I saw a strange man the other night. Someone who doesn’t belong at the building. He didn’t look right. Had the stink of a killer.” Tammy stiffened and leaned forward, dropping her voice to a whisper. “A stink?” “People have a scent. Especially killers. I smell their evil. Like the sulfur that comes from hell.” Instead of giving him a look of disbelief, her expression grew more interested. “How do you know he didn’t belong there?” Joe stopped chewing and thought about what she asked. Long ago, he’d stopped wondering how he knew things. How he could smell the goodness or badness in a person. It hadn’t done him any good to think about it before, so he didn’t know why he cared. His exwife had thought he was loony. The military declared him nuts. He sensed, though, that this woman, like Hawthorne, Kiley and Susan, might just believe. “I know things about people. Always have.” Her eyes widened as she lowered her voice. “Tell me more.” Suddenly Joe knew why he trusted Tammy. Her scent, warm and sweet as roses, came to meet him. She was a fine woman. Soft and giving and capable of knowing things others didn’t. Yeah, she’d make a fine companion for Hawthorne. He’d have to tell Hawthorne, if he didn’t forget. He snapped his mind back to business. “I don’t need to tell you. You already know.” Tammy’s mouth opened, as if she might deny it but then she smiled, and it seemed the whole room lit up a thousandfold. “Maybe I do. Maybe I do.” She glanced around the room, as if she might be afraid to tell him a secret. Then she said, “I used to see colors around people. Their auras. Their true natures reflected in the rainbow.”

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Ah, so that’s how it was. “Instead of stench or scents.” She smiled. “Right.” Sadness touched him. “Not anymore?” She took a deep breath. “Not anymore.” She went silent as he drank his coffee, but finally she spoke. “So tell me more about this man.” Joe chewed the last of his ham, and he felt another hurt deep in his gut. “Something bad happened to Susan?” He knew she didn’t want to tell him the truth. But when he caught her gaze and held it, he also knew it wouldn’t matter. The truth always came to him. “She was severely beaten.” For the first time in years, tears stung Joe’s eyes. “Bastard. It was that bastard.” “Who?” “The son of a bitch I saw in the parking garage.” He dropped his fork, and it clanged as it hit the table. She put her hand over his sweaty fingers. “Joe, you’ve got to tell the police. Give them a description.” “They won’t believe me, and you know that.” “You have to tell them.” Panic hit Joe without warning, as it had many times in the past. His face felt hot, his stomach unhappy with the food. He stared wide-eyed at the redhead. “I don’t…I don’t remember anything but…but his scent.” Tammy’s mouth settled into a frown. “Then we’ll tell Hawthorne. Together.”

***** “Sure, I’ll patch you right through,” the man said over the phone as Kiley sighed in relief. She’d tried earlier in the morning and found Mrs. Taggert wasn’t in the office until now. Wandering over to the fireplace in the library, cradling the cordless phone to her ear, Kiley glanced at the clock on the mantle. Almost noon. She yawned, weariness creeping through her bones. She hadn’t slept much last night. Memories of Scott’s caresses kept popping into her mind. Feeling out of sorts, Kiley stared at the bookshelves. A small calendar on one wall caught her eye and she spied the date. Hard to believe only eight days had passed since she’d met Scott. Only eight days and her life had turned into a nuthouse. Only eight days in which one man managed to undo years of self-training. She’d allowed herself to lose complete control with Scott. But it had felt so wonderful. So right. Barclay had never, never made her come apart like that.

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She’d dreamed last night about Scott’s hands drifting over her, of the blinding pleasure of a heart-stopping orgasm created by his fingers deep inside her, his tongue stabbing into her pussy, his mouth sucking her clit. If he could make her feel that way with his fingers and mouth… God help her…imagine what he could do if— Stop! She held the photo album in her hands, clasping at it like a life preserver as she sank onto the leather couch. She’d have to keep the man out of her thoughts by solving the mystery in this photo album. “Kiley?” “Mrs. Taggert, thanks for taking my call.” “I’m so sorry I missed you before. It’s been a crazy couple of days. Since Scott resigned, I’ve been interviewing new bodyguards. I forgot how much time screening applicants takes. It’ll take a long time to replace him.” “Guess I should apologize.” “Why?” Kiley sighed. “I ruined him.” Mrs. Taggert laughed. “I’d say you did a lot more than that.” Kiley waited, unsure what to say. Mrs. Taggert said, “The man was okay until he became your bodyguard. Now he believes he’s lost his touch and can’t do his job. I couldn’t convince him otherwise.” No accusation filtered into her tone, but guilt assaulted Kiley anyway. “I told him it wasn’t his fault. I didn’t want another bodyguard—” She cut herself off, realizing two things at the same time. She really hadn’t wanted a different bodyguard and she actually missed Scott. The admission frightened her. “I can call him and tell him that,” Mrs. Taggert said. “No! I mean it isn’t necessary. He made his…decision to quit your firm. Mr. Hawthorne is fine. Why rock the boat?” “Why indeed. Unless you’d rather have Scott. I aim to keep my customers satisfied.” For a nanosecond Kiley considered the offer. She shook her head, even though no one would see her. Scott was probably at his cabin, and Kiley didn’t need the aggravation or the unquestionable sexual tension that had risen between them. “No, thank you, Mrs. Taggert.” The older woman sighed. “What can I do for you?” “What I want to talk about has nothing to do with bodyguards. But it may have something to do with what is happening to me right now.” Paper rustled on the other end of the line. “How?”

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“I’ve got a photo album with pictures of my uncle and you in it.” Kiley thought she heard Mrs. Taggert inhale sharply, but she couldn’t be sure. “What about the album?” “I’d never seen these photos before. What I want to know is why an album spanning several years of family and friends is something my uncle would want to hide from me.” The hesitation on the other end of the line made Kiley suspicious, but she waited. “I don’t know that I can help you, dear. Why haven’t you asked him?” “I have. He made it worse by saying I was better off not knowing.” She made a scoffing sound. “Not exactly a great way to shut down my curiosity. He should know me by now.” “Perhaps Reggie finds old memories painful.” “Then you tell me what this is all about. You’re in the pictures every year. All of you.” “All of us?” Kiley flipped to the first photograph. “Albert Corales, my uncle, Gregory Thorson, your husband, and yourself. It lists you by your maiden name at one point.” The silence grew until it seemed to suck the air out of the room like a black hole. “Mrs. Taggert, I need you to tell me what happened between all of you. My father wouldn’t talk about his days with you. Don’t you think that’s odd?” The older woman sighed heavily. “I don’t think it’s my place to tell you everything that happened.” Kiley flipped another page of the album, hunting as she spoke. “Do you think that if I find out I’ll hate you? Uncle said I’d hate you all if I knew what had happened. You have to help me out here. My mind is racing around making crazy scenarios out of thin air. And believe me, I’ve got a pretty good imagination. I can make up lot of weird theories very quickly.” “Kiley, this isn’t necessary.” “Wouldn’t you be curious if you were in my shoes? I think I know you well enough to say you would be.” Mrs. Taggert stayed silent for so long, Kiley almost thought she’d put the phone down and walked away. Finally, the older woman spoke. “I’ve learned some things are better left alone. A lot of heartache can be avoided.” “I need to know why my uncle acted the way he did.” Kiley’s stomach knotted. If she didn’t get answers from Mrs. Taggert, she’d be forced to tackle her Uncle Reginald’s attitude. She didn’t relish the idea. “Your uncle doesn’t want to hurt you. And he doesn’t want to feel that hurt himself.”

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“So you’re admitting something happened back then?” Mrs. Taggert’s sigh echoed like a gentle breeze. Ironically, the wind banged against the house, an angry beast deprived of entrance. Kiley shivered as the sun fell under clouds covering the horizon. “Maybe it is time that you know, my dear.” “Then tell me now. Tell me why my uncle wants to hide the past from me.” “Kiley,” A male voice said at the doorway. “Don’t.” She jerked around. Her uncle stood at the entrance to the library, the scowl on his face growing. Obviously, he’d heard her. She kept the cordless phone to her ear. “Tell me, Mrs. Taggert.” Kiley stood, as if her height could intimidate him. “Tell me.” Striding across the room, he snatched the phone from her hand and spoke into the receiver. Kiley’s voice clashed with his. “What the hell—” she started. “How dare you tell her what happened,” he said into the phone. “I’m firing that damned bodyguard and your agency can go to hell.” He slammed the receiver down and glared at Kiley. “How dare you!” Fuming, she glared at him. “Me? Give me a break! You came in here and grabbed the phone from me, butting in on a private conversation, and you have the balls to tell me I’m doing something wrong?” His chest heaved, and he turned away from her. As his shoulders slumped, the world outside grew darker, and in one corner of her mind she realized rain now tapped the earth. Thunder rolled, deep and angry. Kiley’s voice wavered under the weight of her anger. “You know I’ll find out one way or another.” “I know,” he said, gritting both words out as if pried from him. When he turned to face Kiley, she didn’t expect to see tears in his eyes. Everything she’d planned to hurl at him faded like a bad dream in the early morning. She’d seen him like this one other time, when Marita died. She wanted to rail at him, but the despair in his gaze stopped her. When the phone rang she grabbed for it, certain Mrs. Taggert would be on the other end. As she rasped her hello into the phone, her uncle turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him. When she got no answer, she said again, “Hello?” “Your friend will die unless you go to him.” The deepness of the male voice rumbled against her ears, startling her. “What?” “Your lover. Danger. He’s hurt and needs your help.” The voice sounded hollow and far away, as if the man spoke into a tin can. “At his apartment.”

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The line went dead before she could say a word. Stunned, Kiley put down the receiver. Panic lit her from the inside out. She grabbed the phone again and dialed the cell phone number she had memorized by heart. It rang and rang. Scott didn’t answer. When she tried his regular phone number, his answering machine picked up. Unwelcome tears burned her eyes. Returning the phone to its cradle, she turned and rushed from the library. Kiley knew, as she raced through the house to find Hawthorne, that this caller meant what he’d said. Scott needed her, and she wouldn’t wait around if she couldn’t find Hawthorne immediately. Darting into the kitchen, Kiley glanced out the back window and saw Hawthorne talking with one of her uncle’s bodyguards. Her heart hitched in her throat as she headed out the back door. As she came up to him, the other man left. “I’ve got to get to Scott.” She impulsively grabbed Hawthorne’s arm. “I just received an anonymous call that said he’s been hurt.” “What?” Hawthorne frowned deeply and reached for his cell phone clipped to his belt. “Let’s call him.” “I already tried. No answer on his home phone or cell phone.” Hawthorne punched out a number. “We’ll try again.” Fear rattled her, and she pushed her hands through her hair. The back of her neck felt hot and sticky as she passed a hand over her nape. As he listened for an answer, Kiley fought a relentless crawling sensation in her stomach. Hawthorne flipped his phone closed. “No answer. This doesn’t mean anything. He could be out. He might have headed for the cabin already.” “How can we be sure?” “We can’t.” His face turned grim, his dark eyes narrowing. “There’s a good chance the call you received is a trap.” Kiley sat down on the concrete steps near her. “The creep is trying to draw me out.” “Yep. We can’t fall for that.” A surge of energy filled her, and she rose to her feet. “We also can’t sit around here not knowing.” Nausea curled her stomach as she imagined Scott seriously hurt, or God forbid, worse. Kiley shoved the horrible idea aside. “I must know if he’s okay.” Hawthorne pushed a button on his phone. “I’m calling Mrs. Taggert. She’ll send someone to check on him.” The dance of anxiety within her refused to abate. “That’s not good enough.” “It has to be.” A soft woof caught her attention, and Rommel trotted up to her. He leaned against her legs, and she sank down on her knees in the plush grass. She put her arms around the dog and hugged him. An idea hit her.

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“I’ve got an idea. We’ll take Rommel with us. And weapons. And those stupid disguises.” “No.” “Damn it, Hawthorne, you’re as worried about him as I am.” When he stared at her and said nothing, she continued, “You know I’ll do this with or without your help.” Hawthorne passed a hand over his jaw and grimaced. “Danger warned me you’d try something like this. Short of tying you to a chair—” Kiley rose and started toward the back door, Rommel close on her heels.

***** Rommel laid his nose on Kiley’s shoulder, from his position in the backseat of the Jaguar, as if his doggy brain comprehended her anxiety and wanted to reassure her. But nothing would comfort her but seeing Scott well and whole. Right now, her nerves fired like Mexican jumping beans. “I’m glad you know where he lives.” Hawthorne nodded as he turned onto the highway heading south. “I’m not sure I’m glad about any of this. Besides, my head itches like crazy.” She grinned through her discomfort because the Rastafarian wig looked more ridiculous on him than it had on Scott, and that was a pretty tall order. Her wig also itched, but she didn’t care. The disguises, Rommel’s formidable presence, and the weapons in their jackets assured a measure of safety. Hawthorne’s cell phone rang and he reached in his jacket to retrieve it. “Hawthorne.” His brow creased in concentration. “Hey, Tammy, what’s up?” Seconds passed before he spoke. “What? How did you—yeah…right. At the soup kitchen. I got it. I can’t. I’m on the way to take Kiley to Danger’s apartment.” He threw Kiley a glance. “Yeah. Mrs. Taggert is going to eat me alive.” Kiley grimaced. She sure seemed to have a penchant for propelling Taggert Security agents into deep sheep-dip. “No,” Hawthorne said after he explained to Tammy about the call that sent them on this quest. “I know it’s risky.” A small smile curved his mouth. “Of course. You know me. I’m always careful.” His grin widened. “I didn’t know you cared.” Kiley heard the warmth in his teasing voice and knew Hawthorne wasn’t joking. He liked the fact that Tammy cared about him. “I’ll be careful,” he said again. “I’ll contact you as soon as I know anything. And thanks for listening to Joe. Not everyone would have paid attention to the old buzzard.” When he hung up, Kiley couldn’t resist saying what was on her mind. “What’s happening with Old Joe?” He explained and Kiley said, “Oh, my God. Is Joe going to the police with this information?”

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“She’s trying to convince him to give a full description of the guy he saw.” Kiley leaned her head back on the seat. “I hope so.” She smiled. “Good for Joe. He’s such a smart man. I can’t believe he’s homeless.” Hawthorne nodded as he negotiated a sharp turn. “You’re right. I’ve been trying to get him some help, but he won’t take it. There’s something odd going on with him that I can’t put my finger on. Who would have guessed a man like him might have the clue we need to catch the bastard who hurt your friend Susan?” “You’ve got that right.” Still, her nerves ran raw along her skin. “Whoever called me…they’ll know who we are when we arrive. They’ve probably seen us before, maybe when we went to the hospital to visit Susan. This is an exercise in futility. The dressing up, I mean.” He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.” She flipped open her cell phone and dialed Scott’s cell number. Once more she heard his voice mail. “No answer from Scott.” “Shit.” Hawthorne glanced at her apologetically. “Sorry.” “No need to be sorry,” Kiley said as she pushed a strand of artificial hair away from her cheek. “My sentiments exactly.” “Scott’s okay. He’ll be okay.” Another scene entered her head, this one filled with blood and guts like a horror movie. She shoved it away. “Oh, God.” “I’m worried about him too. At least two against one is better odds. If someone has hurt him and is waiting for us—” “Three against one.” “What?” “Rommel.” Kiley shifted in her seat so she could pet Rommel’s thick ruff. She stroked his muzzle and the big dog licked her hand. She wished she could retract the ornery things she’d said to Scott and remove them from the atmosphere forever. Nothing mattered but seeing him unharmed. “We have to keep our guard up,” Hawthorne said as he glanced in the rearview mirror. Taking this as a clue, she looked over Rommel’s head. “Is someone following us?” “No. All’s clear.” Silence invaded the car for a few moments before she recalled they had unfinished business. “Did Joe say how he knew the man had hurt Susan?” “Tammy and Mrs. Taggert are still trying to get that information out of him.” Kiley pictured the type of asshole who would brutalize a woman. Barclay’s suave, sophisticated smile came to mind. “He’s probably just like Barclay,” she said. 182

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Hawthorne nodded. “Worse than that.” “How do you know?” “My take on your exboyfriend is that he was one bad character, but he didn’t have anything on the man who beat your friend to within an inch of death.” She wanted to tell him he couldn’t know the experience of looking into the eyes of someone like Barclay and seeing that evil had found entrance into his soul. But maybe Hawthorne did understand. Hawthorne changed lanes as he passed a slow vehicle. “This guy, whoever he is, has never seen the inside of a jail cell, but he’s killed before. He probably doesn’t have a pattern to his killings. That’s his signature. No signature at all.” “Every criminal slips up at some point. Even a serial killer or a sociopath.” “True. He just hasn’t slipped up. Yet.” His cell phone rang, and he answered it quickly. Seconds later, his face relaxed. “Yeah. He did? Thank God. Thanks, Tammy. I’ll talk to you later.” He shut the flip phone, and slowed the car. “The man Mrs. Taggert sent out just checked in. Scott is okay. He was attacked—” “Attacked?” Her breath snagged in her throat. “Apparently a guy jumped him before he entered his apartment. Hit him in the head, knocked him down and tried to stab him. Cut him a little but not enough to do significant damage. The guy who jumped him underestimated Scott. Scott’s the best damn fighter I’ve seen in a situation like that. He got in a few blows himself before the guy ran away.” Her breath whooshed out in relief, and a woozy feeling filled her head. As he took an exit she asked, “What are you doing?” “Going back to the estate.” “No we’re not. I want to see Scott.” Hawthorne tossed her a speculative look. “We know he’s all right, so what—” “Go back the way we came. I want to see him.” Easing into the parking lot of a convenience store, he pinned her with a determined look. “You are the most stubborn, pain in the ass—” “So sue me.” She gestured with her hand. “Back on the street, Hawthorne.” “Why is it so important?” “Why is it so important to you that I not see him? Did he tell you to keep me away from him?” Right at that moment a cloudburst hit the area, and sheets of rain drummed on the roof of the car. Thunder rolled like drums. “He didn’t say anything like that. But I also know if I let anything happen to you, he’ll skin me from ear to ear. Or at least he’ll try.”

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Hawthorne might be insistent, but she’d practiced on Scott and that gave her an edge. That, and she desperately wanted to see Scott. “Okay, Hawthorne, I’ll tell you the real reason why I need to see him in person, alive, in one whole piece.” “Okay.” “I like him a lot.” Tears welled in her eyes, but Kiley forced them back with effort. “I care so much for him it hurts me to admit it. Okay. There. Are you satisfied?” A gentle smile creased his face. “Yeah. I know you like him. It’s pretty obvious.” She winced. “It is?” “Absolutely. And the man is crazy as hell about you too.”

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Chapter Eighteen “What?” Kiley breathed as Hawthorne turned the car around and back onto the highway. Hawthorne’s lips twitched. “I’ve said enough already.” “Oh no, you haven’t.” Lightning blanketed the sky in a sheet of pyrotechnics. She winced, expecting a violent crash of thunder. Instead, a grumble echoed far in the distance. He shrugged and kept his gaze on the wet pavement. “It’s none of my business. But the man has it bad for you. That’s all I’m going to say.” As the Jaguar roared along, eating up the highway, she felt the urgency in her blood and mind. The sound of tires rolling over seams in the road seemed to chant…hurry…hurry…hurry. Still, Kiley couldn’t believe what Hawthorne had said. “You’ve got to be mistaken.” “I’ve only known him six months, but we’ve become good friends. He’s taken what’s happened to you seriously. He feels responsible for the fire—” “But he isn’t to blame for the fire.” “I know, and you know. But a situation like that leaves a stain on a man’s heart.” Hawthorne’s face looked grim. His mouth flattened and tightened. “Trust me. I know about that sort of thing.” When he remained silent, she pushed onward. “How do you know?” “Take my word for it.” Maybe Hawthorne’s soul harbored a stain as well. Then her mind switched gears. Scott likes me? Well…he wants to have sex with me, but… The idea that Scott had it bad for her didn’t seem possible. Kiley wanted to think that the man who had brought her inconceivable pleasure cared about her. But love? As they approached Scott’s apartment even Rommel seemed to go on red alert, his stance on the seat rigid. His ears quirked up, and he let out a wary growl. “What is it, boy?” Kiley asked. Rommel made a huffing sound. She put her arm around the dog’s neck. “I wish I could translate doggie talk.” Hawthorne let the Jaguar creep along the deserted street until they came close to the complex. Kiley scanned the area for any sign of danger—the menace or the man.

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“Nothing,” she whispered. “I’ll go to his apartment.” He unlatched his seat belt. “You stay here with Rommel.” “No way. I’m not staying here.” “Just keep the doors locked.” “I’m going with you, damn it.” He looked as if he might argue, and then he subsided, heaving a sigh. “Then get out of the car very slowly. Very slowly. I don’t see a sign of a threat, but we can’t afford any foul-ups.” Kiley nodded her agreement, and as she eased out of the car, Rommel followed, pacing along at her side as she kept her hand on the weapon in her pocket. Darting looks here and there, Hawthorne kept a proprietary hand on her arm. When they reached Scott’s apartment, Kiley could only imagine Scott’s reaction when he saw her running amok. Her hand shook as she banged on the door with her fist, disregarding the doorbell entirely. She gasped when the door flew open and Scott appeared. She took in another startled breath. He didn’t look bruised and beaten. Instead, the small cut above his eyebrow gave him a tough pirate edge. He wore jeans and a ragged-looking shirt, and he was barefoot. Sheer relief hit her, and she clasped the doorframe. “What are you doing here?” Scott asked, looking angry enough to wrestle a python. Happiness to see him alive made her oblivious to his wrath. Kiley shivered in the cool wind that lashed across the front of the building, bringing rain with it. Water gusted under the porch and hit her in the face. “May we come in or do you plan on leaving us outside to drown?” she asked. Scott looked around behind her, as if he half expected someone to attack now that she’d appeared. He grabbed her arm and hauled her inside, and Hawthorne quickly followed, Rommel at his heels. Scott closed the door and locked it. Making a small noise, she yanked her arm out of his hard grip. Before she could speak, he said to Hawthorne, “Why the hell did you bring her here?” Rommel made a small woofing noise, as if he had the answer. “You know how it is when she insists,” Hawthorne said. “Shit,” Scott muttered, glancing down at the shepherd. “I see you brought extra ammunition. But that’s not good enough. We’re dealing with an asshole the size of Texas.” He glared at Hawthorne again. “Thorson isn’t playing games.” Scott turned to Kiley, and the fierceness in his expression took her by surprise. “I ought to—” “Don’t blame Hawthorne,” Kiley said. “I got a call telling me that you’d been beaten up. I insisted we come.”

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“Yeah, it’s been like a regular Grand Central station through here. First that ass who tried to kill me, then Jake from Taggert Security, and now you guys.” Scott’s gaze took her in from head to toe as he frowned. “You shouldn’t be here.” She put up a hand. “Spare me the lecture. I know. I know. But we came to save your sorry butt. Then the agency said you were okay. We couldn’t get you by phone.” Scott shrugged. “My cell phone was smashed in the attack.” His expression turned to pure animosity. “That call was a set-up to get you out here.” Kiley glanced at Hawthorne, who crossed his arms and kept a straight face. “Yeah,” she said, and a slip of strange humor tickled her funny bone. She tried unsuccessfully to hold back a grin. “I seem to be surrounded on all sides by danger.” Scott looked toward the ceiling, sighed and put his hands on his hips. “God, keep me from strangling her.” She didn’t like the razor lash in his voice. She turned to Hawthorne. “Who taught him manners? Howard Stern?” Hawthorne broke into an unexpected smile. “She’s got you there, Danger. She’s one ferocious lioness. You should have seen her—” “Hawthorne, I ought to kick the crap out of you for letting her come out here—” “Stop it!” Kiley moved between them in case the testosterone level increased. “Just stop it.” “Don’t worry, Kiley. I’m not going to fight him.” Hawthorne put both hands up. “I think we’re all a little nuts standing around here talking. Scott, didn’t call the police?” Scott pushed both hands through his thick hair. “No. The guy was dressed all in black and I didn’t see his face. I was trying to stay alive. The fucker was determined to kill me.” A hard shudder rippled through her and tears rushed into her eyes again. Scott may have been minutes, perhaps seconds from certain death. Hawthorne explained about what Old Joe had said. “This may be the man after Kiley. And from the way he attacked you it doesn’t seem he likes you much either. I say we take you back to the estate where it’s safer.” “That’s an excellent idea.” Kiley stepped forward and grabbed Scott’s biceps. “You can’t stay here. Come back with us.” Then she remembered his plans for the cabin, and she managed to rein in her enthusiasm. She released his arms. “Unless, of course, you think you’ll be safe at the cabin.” Scott nodded. “Maybe. Maybe not. The man doing this doesn’t have a reason to follow me. I gave him a couple of souvenirs to remind him of who he was messing with.” Kiley could only imagine. Now that she stood close, she could see a bruise rising on his chin. “Come back with us.”

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“She makes sense,” Hawthorne said. “Fuck,” Scott mumbled and headed down the hall to his bedroom. Kiley glanced at Hawthorne. “Do you suppose that was a yes?”

***** Kiley relaxed slightly when they made it to the estate without incident. All the way back, she’d trembled deep inside, her heart drumming with a nervous tattoo. What if her uncle objected to Scott staying there? Fortunately, she didn’t have to worry right away, because one of the guards told her that her uncle had left for the office. Hawthorne went to the den to make a series of calls, and Kiley volunteered to show Scott to a guest bedroom. She gave him the room next to hers. Having him close made Kiley feel safe in a small way, and not so safe in others. Scott dumped his duffel bag on the floor next to the high, four-poster bed then he turned toward her. The predatory, fuming expression hadn’t disappeared from his face since she’d seen him standing in the doorway of his apartment. “You have your own bathroom, your own phone…” She trailed off, staring at him, tired of the predatory, angry looks he’d been tossing her. “You know your face is going to freeze that way.” Scott’s mouth thinned into a tight line. No doubt about it. He was still hacked. He walked toward her until she took two steps back. Then, annoyed with herself for showing weakness, she stopped and held her ground. “You shouldn’t have come to my rescue, Kiley. It was dumb.” He jammed one hand through his hair and made an exasperated growl. He looked around the room, then pinned her with a narrow gaze that shot more lightning than the thunderhead outside. “Damn it, Kiley, don’t you get it?” He reached out and latched onto her upper arms. “What does it take to get through to you? Do you have a death wish?” Kiley jerked out of his grasp. “In case you didn’t notice, we took precautions. We wore the disguises, we brought Rommel along, and we both had weapons. We prepared.” He made another disgusted noise and reached for his duffel bag. Then he started for the bathroom. “I’m taking a shower.” When the door slammed, she made a mental note to ask him not to damage her uncle’s property. That ought to fry his ungrateful, tough, ugly hide. She groaned and sat down on the bed. Scott might be ungrateful and tough, but he sure wasn’t ugly. And she cared about him even though she didn’t want to give a rip. A shiver racked her frame, and suddenly the trauma of what could have happened to him penetrated like a fist in the stomach. Kiley closed her eyes and remembered the panic she’d felt at the thought of Scott dead.

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Making a fed-up sound, she stood and went to the dresser and looked in the mirror. The dark circles under her eyes, and her rat’s nest hair mocked her. Her part was tossed here and there, but she didn’t care. She twisted her mouth in derision. Nothing mattered but staying here with Scott, secure and warm. She hadn’t expected the overwhelming horror and sense of losing control. Staring into the mirror, she cried, letting tears flow down her face. God, she hated this. Kiley hated all of it. Long minutes went by as she remained oblivious to anything but the faint sound of a helicopter flying overhead and of a door closing somewhere down the hall. Eventually the bathroom door opened, and she wiped the tears away. The scent of freshly showered man came into the room. Scott’s damp hair fell loose around his shoulders, hanging almost to his naked pectorals. His green shirt hung open. Her mouth went dry as she took in the expanse of honed muscles in his magnificent chest. Sure, she’d seen his chest after the fire, but now she had the leisure of paying attention to what she saw. He did have dark hair on his chest—it narrowed down to his washboard stomach and disappeared into the waistband of his jeans. Oh, man. Her mouth practically watered. She’d never seen a more gorgeous chest. A small, white bandage showed where the knife had cut him along the right side of his ribs. He came to a dead stop, so she walked toward him. “What about that cut? Are you sure we shouldn’t let a doctor examine you?” Scott put up one hand, halting both her progress toward him and her babbling stream of words. “I’m fine. It’s barely a scratch. The guy didn’t do that much harm.” “Could have fooled me. With the way you’ve been growling and snapping, I figured you had brain damage.” Kiley expected irritation, but received something far more surprising. Amusement sparkled in his eyes. “He did hit me in the head. But I don’t have a concussion, so there’s nothing to worry about. Besides, my skull is like concrete. Just ask Hawthorne.” “Are you trying to say you’re as thick as a plank?” He gave her a full-blown smile. Warmth flared deep in her stomach. It could have been the trauma of the last few hours, Kiley supposed, that made her susceptible to that outrageous, sexy grin. Everything within her calmed as the tight, tense anxiety disappeared. In its wake came a bone-deep lassitude and a full-on awareness of him as a man. The testosterone seemed to flow off him, drawing her nearer, making her want things she couldn’t have. He gave her a measured look as his smile faded. “How are you?” She moved to the fireplace on one side of the room and leaned against the carved mantle. “I’m great. It’s not every day I get a call from someone telling me you’ve been beaten to a pulp and need me.” Tears stung her eyes again, but she forced them back. “First rule of battle, Kiley, you shouldn’t have—”

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She turned on him. “Give me some slack, will you? This isn’t battle, and I’m not one of your damned soldiers. Get over the idea I’m going to conform to your tactical commands, Roger Ramjet.” Scott frowned. “Roger Ramjet is for the Air Force.” “Whatever.” His face remained impassive, all trace of humor gone. She looked away, irked for thinking this man could understand. To hell with him. To hell with caring if he lived or died. When Kiley looked at him, his eyes seemed as menacing as the darkest ocean. That was really what made him dangerous. Like a pool of deep, calm water, he hid his true feelings beneath the surface. Maybe he would drown her in the depths, maybe he wouldn’t. A woman would never know until too late. “I wish I’d never met you,” she whispered, lying and yet telling the truth all at the same time. Kiley saw the glittering, primordial explosion reach Scott’s eyes. In that second she knew she had two choices. She could back away forever from this heady, immense passion, or jump headfirst into the cauldron. Either way her proverbial goose would be cooked. “Damn you,” Scott said, advancing on her like a leopard stalking a kill. She moved back, bumping against the wall, her hands flattening against the cool, rough surface. “Don’t.” Still he came on, stopping when he towered over her. She looked up at his blazing, unrelenting anger and knew he’d reached a breaking point. His chest heaved with a deep breath, and she saw sweat form near his right temple. His hard, carved mouth twitched in a mocking smile. “I’m not staying here, Kiley. I was a fool to agree to stay.” “Why?” “Because I can’t trust myself any longer. I can’t be here.” Scott waved one hand to the side as if indicating the whole room. “I can’t be here, in this room, near you.” “Then leave.” “I can’t do that either. I’m trapped,” he said hoarsely as he shifted closer. “Because I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.” Kiley took in a shocked breath. His declaration burned like a hot sword, and she sagged against the wall. Her lips parted as she dared to look into his eyes and see if he spoke the truth. Within his gaze, she saw more than frustration and anger, but a heated need building up inside him. An answering fire licked at her body. Her womb almost ached, the craving felt so tight and heavy. “What?” He leaned in so close they almost touched. “You don’t believe me?” She trembled. What defense did she have but for one irrational answer. “No.”

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“No.” He brought both palms down on the wall with a mild slap, making her jump. There would be no escape. “Ever since I saw that damned photo album of you I knew you’d take my protection kicking and screaming. You’ve proved me right. You’ve dragged me through the dirt and rubbed my nose in it.” Tears reached her eyes so suddenly she almost didn’t stop them. “I tried to keep our relationship professional.” “So did I.” His voice came silky against her ears, and his breath warm on her neck. “But I can’t be professional anymore. If you were hurt it would kill me. I ache so much for you I can’t keep it inside.” Her eyes widened in disbelief. Kiley involuntarily put one hand on his chest, and he held it there, pressing her hand to hard flesh. “Don’t you believe me? Tell me what you see when you look at me. Tell me,” he said so softly, so quietly she almost didn’t hear him. “What?” she asked, incredulous. Caged in by his body, she quivered with sensations she recognized, no matter how much she wanted to deny them. Her nipples tightened and tingled. Her lower belly warmed and the tissues between her legs softened and fluttered. She needed him with an equal fierceness. Scott’s loss of control rippled through her in waves, coming off him in heat flares that burned her up. She knew now, more than ever, that no matter what, this man would do everything in his power to keep her safe. He was that kind of male animal. Forceful. Protective of those he cared about. Yet he was just as determined to tame her. She couldn’t allow that. Every fiber in her body strained toward him. Tentatively she put her other hand on his chest, clutching at the material of his open shirt. “Tell me,” Scott said. “You’re…you’re the most maddening, crazy, wild man I’ve ever met.” “Do you hate me?” “No! God, no. When I got that call that you’d been hurt all I could think about…” Shame bashed at her, threatening her equilibrium, everything she’d worked for. “But I can’t…I can’t let you sacrifice yourself for me. Do you hear me? You won’t put yourself in Thorson’s way for me.” “That’s what I do for a living, Kiley.” “Not anymore. You resigned. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened—” His mouth came down over hers, silencing and smothering everything. As Scott took her shoulders in his big palms, Kiley shivered with heat. Drawing her close, he anchored his arms around her tightly, spearing one hand into her hair. His hips bumped hers and then she knew. Before he’d kissed her, before he’d touched her, he’d been aroused. Kiley gasped in shocked excitement, and he took advantage, plunging his tongue into her mouth with carnal, uninhibited strokes. His cock rubbed her belly, hard and fierce. He wanted 191

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inside her, and that knowledge broke her inhibitions until they toppled like dominos one by one. Before she had time to respond, he tore his mouth from hers, taking a deep, shaky breath. As he stared down at her, Scott telegraphed with that hot gaze that he wanted her. It frightened Kiley and excited her so much her breath rasped out. “Kiley,” he said, the sound husky and rough. He swallowed hard. He caught her gaze and held it. “I didn’t want this to happen. But here I am and I can’t go back.” She heaved a breath, lightheaded. It seemed whenever she encountered this man she lost perspective. Lost anchor. Fighting was all she had left for a defense. Logic had nothing to do with her emotions and never had. “I’m not Barclay. I could never do that to you,” he said. “I would give my life for you. Right here. Right now.” Scott cupped her face with one hand, the slightly calloused texture of his big palm sending a hot shiver through her body. He would die for her. Everything within her wanted to believe every word he uttered, the truth laid bare in his eyes. His touch unraveled her resistance and her senses. His gaze traced her lips like a lover’s caress. “I don’t like your pigheaded resolve to get yourself killed. At this rate you can be sure you’ll be dead within the week, maybe less. I stay cool because if I don’t, I might confess to everyone who is willing to listen how very much I care about you.” His voice dropped to a whisper as his thumb caressed her chin. “Or I might do something stupid like make love to you right here. Right now.” Then his lips came down on hers again and removed all doubt.

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Chapter Nineteen Warm and searching, Scott’s mouth tortured Kiley’s with gentle exploration and insatiable appetite. Instead of pushing away from him as the rational side of her said she must, she sank against his chest. Unlike the last time he’d kissed her, he coaxed. Gently he took her lower lip between his teeth then licked it with his tongue. A wild gasp left her, and he covered her mouth with his again. This time his kiss took her slowly, wandering over her mouth with a lazy, almost featherlight touch. Over and over he brushed her lips with his until she made a small sound of frustrated need. A small groan escaped her. God help her, it felt so good. She shuddered, but not from revulsion—from pure, unstoppable desire. Pressing against him, she felt his arms shift, tightening. The female power that every woman should feel at least once in her life came over her. She’d penetrated the one defense he seemed to have. His need translated in the insistent plunge and retreat as his tongue glided into her mouth and over her tongue. Slow, sensual, maddening strokes…dipping in and out of her mouth in a blatant initiation, a reminder of what his cock might do as it surged deep and hot into her center. The very thought of him being inside her made her vibrate with excitement. She twisted against him, wanting to get closer. His hands skimmed over her back. His right hand slid into her hair, cupping the back of her neck, imprisoning her. Yet Kiley didn’t want to escape. She left her resentments and fears behind, letting his embrace shelter her with his taste and scent and touch. Drinking in Scott’s musk, she responded. Twining her arms about his neck, she met his tongue with forays of her own. No passion had ever come to her so wild, so raw, so good. Scott inhaled and shuddered, and delight slipped through her. This hard, powerful man wanted her. She’d conquered him in no small terms. Allowing his brand of passion to invade her, twine with her, made fear dissipate until it remained but a tiny memory. He released her nape and reached for the buttons on her shirt. Time melded, pulsed, moved with warm, unfurling pleasure. The anticipation rocked her deep. She wanted his hands on her naked flesh. Cool air touched bare skin as her blouse came undone, then her bra. His lips left hers to press gentle kisses to her nose, her cheeks, her forehead. She kept her eyes closed, drinking in the sensations as his mouth traced a path to her ear, tasting the lobe with his tongue. Kiley shivered with excitement, and he made a low sound of male satisfaction.

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Sweeping her fingers through the thick, damp tumble of his hair, she savored the silken strands sliding against her fingers. Pressing butterfly kisses to her throat, he made his way down. Down. She trembled again. Out of restraint. Out of her mind. Suddenly his lips took hers. Hot, hard, and ravenous. His hands slipped down over her hips, and he walked her backward a step until she bumped into the wall again. With a startled moan, she clutched at his shoulders, gripping his hard muscles as if she’d fall off the earth without his support. Moments later he unbuttoned and unzipped her baggy jeans. They fell to the floor with a soft swish, pooling at her feet, and she toed off her loose shoes. Scott’s big, hot hands slid into her panties, landing warm and firm on her buttocks. He squeezed gently, and she groaned and squirmed against him as he caressed her flesh. Her pussy flooded with heat and moisture. Hot, wet and unbelievably aroused, she squirmed in a torment so exquisite she wanted to shout. God, just fuck me. Please just fuck me. He pulled his lips from hers, his breathing fast and uneven. He looked down at her lips, heat and passion volcanic in the depths of his eyes. More than lust, Kiley saw a sweet caring, an overwhelming emotion she couldn’t name through the haze of her desire. She only knew she’d never seen it in another man’s eyes. “God,” he said on a husky groan. He stared at her breasts. “You are so damned beautiful. So hot and sweet, and I want you so damned much.” His words, rough and bold with arousal, served to fire her more. Kiley heard the need in his voice, and the knowledge that he wanted her thrilled as much as scared her. She reached for his jeans, but when she fumbled trying to undo the button at his waistband, he reached down and made short work of the fastening and zipper. She stuffed her hands into the back of his jeans and slipped under his briefs to find his ass cheeks. The tight butt thrilled her, and another trickle of wetness dampened her panties. Aching with desire, she shoved his jeans and plain white briefs down over his hips. His cock, hard and big, rose from a thick bush of dark blond hair. She touched him in wonder. His breath hissed inward as her fingers slipped down over the large expanse, his pulsing form drawing an equal gasp of appreciation from her lips. “Ah, Jesus. I can’t take that. Not this time,” he said with a moan. He pulled her fingers away from his cock. “Later, baby.” She realized she hung on the brink. If she took the plunge, his incredible arms would catch her. She’d been so afraid for him, and deep in her heart Kiley acknowledged that despite all her struggles, he’d battered down her defenses. Now that he was safe in her arms, she couldn’t stop the headlong flight. As Scott bent his knees and lifted her against him, he pressed his hardness against her soft center. The pleasure made her moan. “Oh, God. Please.” Scott took her mouth again, the hot, heady rush through desire making him dizzy. He slipped her panties off her hips then caressed the firmness of her buttocks again. Continuously pressing his erection into the notch between her thighs, he twisted against

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her, and heard the sharp gasp that came from her throat. When she’d gripped him in her hand, he felt he might explode like a fucking teenager, the pleasure felt so damned good. No. He had to be inside her when he came. Deep, deep inside. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any woman. “Kiley,” he said as he released her mouth. “I can’t stand it. I need—” He touched her between the legs, and she gasped as he found her pussy lips silken and welcoming. He wanted to growl, to stake a claim in the most ravenous, male way possible. She’s mine. Flicking his finger over the clit, he whispered, “So wet. So soft.” Kiley shivered in response, moaning, and he touched her again, caressing until she dampened his fingers. “Please,” she whispered, reaching down to grasp his cock. Ah, shit. If she didn’t stop touching him, this would go too fast. Kiley quivered as his fingers tested her clit with gentle touches and the urge to climax rode her hard. Scott fumbled in his pants pocket and produced a condom package. “I vowed if we were ever together again—” He tore the package and within seconds covered himself. He lifted her suddenly, cupping her butt in both hands as he propped her against the wall. Oh, man. She’d never done it against a wall. No man had ever— His cock touched between her legs. Hot. Hard. Sliding, increasing pressure as he moved into her slowly. Oh. Oh, yes. He is so deliciously thick. Every unrelenting inch of manhood slipped upward into her aching core. Scott felt her tightness and the resistance and for a startling second he thought she might still be a virgin. Then as his body slid into the satin wetness of her body, and she gasped, he knew no more worries. As he sank within her she moaned, then let out another little gasp. He took her mouth fiercely. The hard, invading shaft, the sensation of him deep inside her, of her flesh surrounding him, felt so incredibly good, Kiley could barely breathe. Every wide inch plowed her straight to the womb, and her walls rippled around him as dazed pleasure jolted through her. As he pressed harder, that startling excitement shot upward and quivered in her clit with a sweet, bliss-filled little orgasm. She shook in his arms, her moaning gasp filling his mouth as his tongue fucked her mouth. Oh, my God. God. The pleasure was so heavenly, she sighed. At last…at long last he was inside her. Every moment of their relationship had led to this joining. The carnal need welling within her combined with tenderness, and tears of happiness spilled into her eyes. He must move. Most bring her more of the tiny glimpses of paradise she’d experienced with his first thrust. When he didn’t move, she shifted, and his powerful arms kept her pinned to the wall. A gathering tightness throbbed deep within her, and 195

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she centered all thought on that wild feeling. As his tongue took her mouth, rubbing over her tongue in a sexual dance, she moved her hips against him. He groaned then moved. A small shift. An oscillation that was barely there, but it sent wildfire ecstasy throbbing into the sensitive tissues deep inside. A small thrust, a gentle gliding she hadn’t expected. Scott wanted to drive into her, but something kept the motions of his hips gentle, moving with tender strokes. He’d make this last. He’d make her want him again and again and again. And she did want him. So badly she moved her hips what little she could. Every thought she had left fell away, replaced and consumed by physical response. Gliding, gliding, gliding. Hot. Hard. He tore his lips from hers as his hips drew back then sank between her thighs. Drew back. Sank again. His cock tunneled and stroked, buried to the hilt. His fingers tightened on her ass, plumping her flesh in a wild caress as he thrust again and again in a cadence that promised more ecstasy than she’d ever experienced before this moment. “Scott.” She clutched at him, burying her face in his neck as overwhelming bliss burst to life between her legs. She tightened her thighs, and his fingers retained hold on her ass. “Scott,” she whispered again, pleading. Soft movement, a tender stroking deep inside her. She’d said his name. A smile broke across his lips even as he moaned with pleasure. Another slow retreat…another lazy plunge. Gently. Gently. He’d take her and take her until she was out of her mind. Calling his name until it sounded like a prayer on the wind. “Say it again,” Scott said thickly, his tongue plunging into her ear. “Say it.” “Scott—” He thrust hard. “Oh!” Another hard thrust. Then another. Her gasp made him do it. Made him shove. Shove again until his hips established a driving rhythm. The tight, gathering need between her legs exploded so suddenly Kiley gasped loudly, then cried out. “Scott.” She moaned, whimpering with overwhelming ecstasy. As she shuddered around him, Scott uttered a primitive, masculine growl and his hips stopped moving. Her feminine muscles contracted around the hardness buried deep inside her…tentative, ever pulsing contractions that never seemed to stop. Kiley gasped for breath, the ragged little sounds surprising even her. “Oh, yeah,” he said with a hoarse whisper. He moved away from the wall and walked her the short distance to the bed. He never left her body, and as he sank with

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her onto the coverlet, his hips pumped with steadily building strokes into the slick heat of her pussy. She couldn’t believe it. No man had ever driven her to ecstasy like this. Never. She made a happy, tiny sound of disbelief and delight as his hardness caressed her walls, jamming deep inside her with relentless thrusts that speared to her core. Renewed fire boiled in her veins, threatening a climax so elating she thought of nothing else. There was nothing but the steady, relentless movements of his hips as he thrust inside her heavily, his own unfettered response jolting through her. “Please,” she said, a whimper leaving her throat. As if he knew just what she needed, he picked up the pace, his cock jamming, thrusting. When Kiley thought she could stand no more, the excitement stabbed like a hot dagger and another climax hit her. She cried out, and his mouth came down over hers, muffling her repeated cries. And still he thrust, immersing himself until he could go no deeper. His pleasure rippled through his body, jerking and fluttering with every breath. Her tightness bathed him and he felt her juices trickle, soaking his cock as the friction rose. Unbelievable pleasure broke through his body and his breath hitched in his throat as he fucked her with a solid ramming thrust. Then another. He threw his head back and roared as ecstasy screamed from his throat. Each thrust punctuated by a growl as Scott spent all he had inside her, then went still.

***** “Scott?” “I love it when you say my name. Say it again,” he said, his voice rumbling gently into her as she laid her head on his chest. His arms tightened around her, and Kiley knew a happiness unprecedented in her life. This man had taken her to a universe she hadn’t known existed. Even her wildest fantasies never reached such heights. They’d lain on the bed, half naked, for almost fifteen minutes. Silence had grown around them as they regained their breath. “Kiley? Did you hear me?” He kissed her forehead. “I heard you.” He kissed the little mole next to her nose. “Call me Scott.” “My, but aren’t we obsessed with hearing our own name.” Scott smacked her naked butt lightly, and she uttered a squeak of indignation. “Hey—” He kissed her. “Say it again.” “No—” 197

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He tilted her chin so he could stare at her, his predator eyes reminding her of caution and conflicting feelings. The lust Kiley felt for him was overwhelming. It had loosened her tongue. What had made her say his first name repeatedly, begging for more. She wasn’t falling for him. “I have ways of making you say it.” Scott released her, stripped off his shirt, and shoved his pants off. “God,” she whispered for the umpteenth time. Her admiration for his body came again in a great wave. Impulsively she ran her hands over his pectorals, his shoulders, enjoying hard, masculine contours, delighting in the tingles that sparked in her skin as she drew her fingers through the hair on his chest and stomach. She’d never seen a man so ripped, his body a sculpture more defined and vigorous than any imaginings. She wasn’t ready for the heady sensations, the possession that claimed her senses and feelings. More than she wanted her own pleasure, she wanted to give to him, to see him happy, healthy and above all, safe. As she caressed him, the thick blade of his cock rose hard and needful once more. Before she could reach his cock with her wandering touch, Scott rolled her onto her back and threw a hard thigh over one of hers. Kiley undulated and closed her eyes as she savored the sensation of his hair-roughened thigh pushing up against her pussy. The moment hung in the air, a definition of who and what they were, a savoring of peace, contentment, and ultimate sexuality. He placed his warm palm on the nest of hair at the top of her thighs. “I will make you say it.” “You can’t.” “I just did.” An odd panic tilted her world. No. She couldn’t say it again…couldn’t surrender to him. Scott’s mouth covered hers, his tongue plunging inside and beginning an erotic rhythm she couldn’t resist. Her tongue played and tangled with his, a dance of freedom and intimacy that combined into one lush, erotic tango. Suddenly she felt his hand between her thighs and the gentle brush of his fingers, then one finger penetrated the wetness between her thighs. She jerked in his arms, moaning. Another finger joined the first, and as pleasure took her, he drank her sighs and sounds of approval. He drew back from their kiss. The look in his eyes, the glimmer of a smile about his lips made her suspicious. His nostrils flared, his pupils dilated. His voice dropped to a rough, husky whisper. “God, you are so soft.” His fingers slipped and slid inside her, the friction causing her pussy to tremble and clench around his fingers. “Feel that? Mmm. Hot and delicious. I want to stick my tongue inside you. Lick you until you scream.” His nasty words, so erotic and determined, renewed every needy feeling. “So sweet, so soft. Wet.” Scott flicked his thumb over her clit and Kiley quivered. 198

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He repeated the caresses, moving his fingers in tantalizing strokes until the fire consumed her. She’d do anything to have this pleasure again. To possess the wild, uncontrollable rush. Kiley was there, almost there when he stopped. “Please,” she said, not even caring if she begged for it. “Damn you.” He smiled then laughed. “That’s me. Damned to hell.” Before she knew it he started kissing his way to her breasts. He wedged himself between her thighs. She arched against him. He’d thrust now. Oh, yes. “Not yet,” he said huskily as he licked one nipple. “Oh, God.” “Exactly.” Another lick. Another groan. Kiley moved against Scott, begging with every twist of her body as he lavished attention on her breasts, licking, teasing, and finally sucking until the tingle jetted from her breasts down to the heat between her legs. He took the tight nipples into his mouth until she thought he meant to drive her insane. He grasped one breast in his big hand and cupped it while he shaped the nipple to his tongue and mouth. As heat sizzled in her veins, the pleasure darting from her nipple made her writhe in his hold, wriggle and murmur until she thought she’d burst into begging him to fuck her. One hand trailed down her stomach and played in her navel until she giggled at the tickling, then his fingers traced her labia with tender insistence. When he caressed her clit and sucked her nipple with hard pressure, she gasped and held his head to her. Her hips moved as the need to climax rose higher and higher. Once again, he left her wanting as he released her lips and removed his teasing touch from between her thighs. Finally, he kissed another path down to her stomach, where he lingered for long moments. Her eyes closed as he did what she wanted him to do. His breath feathered over her swollen flesh, then he licked. His tongue tasted her clit with light, brushing strokes. An incoherent sound came from her throat. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he said softly, flicking his tongue over her clit again. Again. Again until all she felt was the sliding, rubbing, resolute pleasure. When his tongue dipped into her heat, thrusting and licking against her inner walls, she quaked. Her thighs trembled, her belly fluttering with building heat. Like a starving man, his tongue and lips fed on her pussy. The scent of her, of the lovemaking they’d shared, filled his head with musk. Scott ached to bury his cock in her again. She turned him into a rutting animal, a beast who wanted to spend hours fucking. He would soon enough, but not until she called him by his first name, unable to stop. Not until he’d drawn her so tight she asked him to make her come. Until he knew he was the most important thing in her world. Until he wiped every trace of Barclay from Kiley’s mind. 199

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When he took her clit into his mouth and suckled, Kiley’s hips surged upward. Grabbing at the coverlet and snatching material into her fingers, she rode the building eruption. “Say it,” he rasped. “Say my name again.” “Scott,” she said, relenting, her voice a warble. The tension heightened as he drank from her, and abruptly it burst. She cried out as the explosion arrived. She hung on as she hit the crest, ultimate gratification breaking from her lips in a carnal announcement. Nothing mattered but the ecstasy as she came apart. She’d barely come down from the heights when he groaned and reached for the stash of condoms he’d tossed on the bedside table. Within seconds he came back to her, lowered his hips between her thighs and took her with a sharp thrust. Kiley’s gasp of surprise and ecstasy ignited him, and he initiated a primitive, hard dance. He drew her legs up, pressing them against her chest as he gyrated into her. The position drove her mad and she bucked and wept, it was so good. When he knew he could no longer take it, when his thrusts hammered deep into her, and her cries increased, he managed to gasp the words. Desperately, in an insane way, he needed her to say it again or he would die. “Say it, Kiley.” She knew he wanted it. And she wanted more than anything to give him what he needed. “Scott!” And as he gave his last hard shove and shouted his climax, she found a special joy that comes from being loved hard and well. It flowed into her and around her until she went deaf and blind. She heard his throaty roar as he trembled, his breath harsh. When he collapsed upon her, she knew that saying his name had been a leap of faith that she’d never believed she could give a man again. Yet she’d given this man everything. “Scott.” As he gathered her into his arms, Scott pressed gentle kisses to her forehead and nose. “Now I won’t be able to shut you up.” She made a sound of mock outrage and shoved him so hard he flipped onto his back. “What—” he said, startled and yet amused. “Shut up. This calls for some serious punishment.” He grinned and discarded the condom. Surprising both herself and him she took him in her hand and stroked him. Scott grunted, looking up at her satiny beauty and marveling at how smeared makeup, tangled black hair, and flushed cheeks could look erotic. But they did…and it was only because it was this woman.

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Grinning, he put his hands behind his head. “What are you going to do to me?” The utterly satisfied, primal male look on his face gratified her beyond her imaginings. “Screw you until you can’t walk.” He laughed then groaned. “You are incredible.” “So are you,” Kiley said softly, unable to keep up the pretense of anger. As she increased the pace of her strokes he grimaced. “Heaven help me.” Kiley gave him a silly grin and waggled her eyebrows. “Heaven can’t help you with this, Scott.” She teased him endlessly, until the minutes blended. Scott couldn’t take it anymore and thrust his hips up, countering her movements. He watched her hand spread his pre-cum over his cock until the friction of her palm and fingers over his burgeoning flesh drew him higher toward heaven. When Kiley leaned forward and sealed her mouth over his cock, he growled in appreciation. He never expected this. Her tongue flickered against him and he gasped. “Holy shit.” He closed his eyes and enjoyed the ministrations as her hand and mouth and tongue took him on a journey. His hips twitched, his hands clutched at the bed covers and twisted them into his grip. Not much longer. Not much longer— The eruption built before he could warn her. Cum blasted from him like a geyser. A little moan came from her throat, but she didn’t let him go, her hand pumping, stroking as her mouth sealed over his flesh and took each scalding blast of semen down her throat. Scott called her name as he fell into the sweetest heaven he’d ever known.

***** When Kiley awoke some time later, Scott was spooned behind her, his strong arms cradling her in a wealth of security. She felt oddly relaxed and excited all at one time. With her heart twisted in wild enjoyment of happy feelings, she pushed back and discovered his hard cock nestled tight between her ass cheeks. She couldn’t suppress a tiny gasp. Before she could make another movement, his hands started to caress her. His fingers lingered over her breasts, plumping and stroking over their entire surface, pinching her nipples with gentle, quick touches. Renewed arousal spilled into her core, her pussy still wet from their last encounter and her body eager for more of whatever his attention would give her. When his hand palmed her butt and one finger dipped into the cleft, she moaned softly. With a gliding motion, he turned her over on to her stomach. “What are you doing?” she asked softly.

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“Mmm. Wait and see.” He slipped two fingers into her pussy and then withdrew, bringing her cream up until he could smear it over her tight anal passage. She quivered under the forbidden, intimate touch. “Scott.” He halted immediately. “Do you want me to stop?” She hesitated. She’d opened herself to his body and let him into her heart in a way she couldn’t have imagined on first meeting him. Now she couldn’t think of wanting anything less than total sexual expression with him. Her body belonged to his in every way. “No.” He pressed open her ass cheeks and then she felt what she didn’t expect. His tongue glided over her hole, tickling, licking. “Scott!” She gasped. “Oh, my God.” He didn’t stop, and although the touch surprised and shocked her a little, the sensation felt so good, she allowed it to continue. Pure delight trickled into her belly and slid straight to her genitals as his tongue tortured her with a few more quick passes of his tongue. A raw passion entered his voice. “I want you in every way. I want inside you…all of you. But we don’t have to do this if—” “Please, I want this. Take me there, Scott.” She knew, in a certain way, that she spoke of more than craving a physical joining she’d never experienced before. Wanting his heart and his mind to cleave with hers drove her to accept this new sexual adventure. As heat rippled in her belly and fresh cream flooded her pussy, she relaxed into the idea without another worry. She knew nothing could feel as amazing as discovering new physical passion with this man. His fingers touched her again, the tickling heat and friction bringing a spiraling arousal into her belly. He worked her back passage, getting her used to the sensation until he inserted one finger a teasing fraction. She wriggled as he pressed deeper, deeper yet. “All right?” his voice whispered to her. “Feels so good.” Her throat felt tight. “More.” Though the feeling of his finger slowly inserting into her felt unique and laced with the forbidden, she loved it. He thrust his finger slowly, methodically, stroking her virgin territory until she writhed under his ministrations. “God, I want to put my cock in here.” She moaned and thrust her hips upward. When he removed his finger, she crawled up on her hands and knees. He made a sound of approval and within seconds urged her open wider as he slipped two fingers into her ass. She groaned softly as he thrust, drawing her deeper into an erotic delight. Long minutes went by as he prepared her. She shivered and quaked under the rising arousal, her pussy wet, her body lubricated and waiting the next step. 202

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Scott grabbed another condom from his stash, and she heard him putting it on his cock. She closed her eyes, her body still propped on hands and knees as he pressed his erection against her anus. As her heart pounded and her breathing quickened in anticipation, he probed until with a solid push his cock slipped a little ways into her anus. She gasped at the new sensation. “All right?” he asked, his voice rough with obvious excitement. “Yes.” Her arousal tightened her body, and he eased back until he left her empty. “Open up, honey. Relax.” She took a deep breath and did as he requested. He proceeded, his hardness easing back into her. He sawed one inch of incredibly hot, hard cock in and out of her passage, and she wiggled under the beautiful intrusion. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. “Yes.” He palmed her back, soothing her with the massaging motion as he continued the gentle fucking. Back and forth, the tender thrusts moved his cock deeper into her body. Soon she realized he’d thrust at least half his cock up her anus. She’d never felt anything, other than his cock nailing her pussy, that felt this forbidden and indescribably intoxicating at the same time. Scott drew her into the motion, until she rocked back and aided penetration. Inch by inch, with slow precision he fucked her, until with a last slick slide, he seated to the hilt. He held still, his hips flush against her ass and his arms around her. All at once she felt everything—his cock imbedded deep, his balls up against her pussy. “Oh, yeah.” He groaned. “Kiley, that’s so good. You’re so tight.” He sounded disarmed, vulnerable, hovering on the brink of losing himself in her heat with one thrust. She tightened her passage over his thickness and heard his breath suck inward. He reached up to clasp one nipple and tug, and she uttered a moan of her own. His other hand slipped downward into her wet pussy and found her clit. He stirred his hips, and it moved his cock with a sweet caress. From that point forward, she discovered a bliss she’d never known before, and wanted to last forever. Scott had taken a chance when he’d asked her for this pleasure, for a different penetration not every woman would find erotic and pleasurable. Instead, she’d offered herself to him with a passion he hadn’t expected, but could only hope to experience. As her body opened to him even more, he was tempted to start thrusting, his male need to rut, to take, almost overwhelming. He fought with primal urges, knowing she was probably new to this experience. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her. As he sank another fraction within her heat, his groin clenched and threatened to burst into orgasm. He drew in deep draughts of air, his body shuddering as he closed his eyes and felt the tight, hot passage close around his cock. He moved the slightest bit, his cock stroking her. Her pussy was tight, but this fit about blew his fucking head right off.

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“Yes.” He growled as he drew back a fraction and inched forward, stirring his cock within her anus. When she gasped, he stopped. “Kiley?” Her throat felt tight, so drawn into the extraordinary sensation so new and frighteningly dangerous. She practically whimpered her words. “Please. More.” Deep within her, his cock stroked as he pumped his hips with tender thrusts. Tugging and teasing her nipples and fingering her clit, he added to the wildfire driving her closer and closer to an explosion. She closed her eyes and enjoyed as he thrust a little harder, caressing and gliding and fucking. As her climax rose, she felt it start in her clit, then rise into pussy and anus as he never stopped the steady thrusts of cock into ass. With one last pinch of her nipple and caress to her clit, he thrust deep. “Oh, Scott—” Her broken exclamation ripped from her as she climaxed in a burst of desire so shattering she moaned loudly. She shattered with another cry as the orgasm shook her down to the foundations. Her anal grip milked him, and as she shivered around his cock, he gave one more thrust and growled deep in his throat. His entire body shook, and she felt his cock throbbing inside her.

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Chapter Twenty Tammy drummed her fingers on her desktop then fiddled with her plastic dinosaur. This had already turned into one gnarly day. She didn’t know why and wouldn’t be able to explain if asked. Par for the course, she decided. The phone felt cold under her fingers. “Joe says he wants to go to the police and tell them what he saw and what he knows, but he keeps changing his mind,” she said into the phone. Hawthorne cursed. “Hell, what’s his problem? He wanted to tell me beforehand.” She glanced at Mrs. Taggert’s closed door. “You know his problem, Hawthorne. Better than I do, as a matter of fact.” “No, I don’t. Tell me.” His firm tone surprised her. How would she explain the connection she’d felt to this homeless man from the moment she’d seen him? When she’d volunteered to take Hawthorne’s place at the shelter for a couple of hours, she’d had no idea Joe would arrive and throw another mystery into the soup. “He’s in Mrs. Taggert’s office right now. She’s trying to convince him he should talk,” she said. Hawthorne sighed, and Tammy imagined him pacing the floor, a scowl punctuating his rugged features. “Joe’s…different.” Her hand bumped her stapler and she winced. “I know what you mean.” Tammy hadn’t visited with Joe long before she’d sensed he might be like her. While she saw people’s colors psychically—or had once seen them—Joe could detect people’s scents. At least she thought that’s what he’d meant when he’d said that Susan’s attacker smelled like sulfur. She knocked the dinosaur over and left it there. “He’s very different. And I don’t mean crazy. Is there any way you can come back to the office and help with Joe?” “Yeah. Now that Scott is guarding Kiley again—” “What?” He chuckled. “After the attack on him, we came back here and he’s been…uh…covering her situation very closely.” Tammy’s face heated. “Are you implying that he’s—” “Don’t ask.” “Uh-huh. I see. Does Mrs. Taggert know he’s guarding her again?” “I was hoping you could run interference and tell her for me.” “Coward.” 205

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“You know it.” She sighed. “It’ll cost you.” “How much?” he asked, a sexy tone in his voice. A tiny thrill darted through her stomach. A tingle spread through her nipples and tightened them until they hardened. Holy cow. She thought about his question, and a very evil idea came to mind. “A cup of coffee and a thank-you kiss.” Silence stretched until she thought he had no intention of answering. “I thought you’d never ask,” Hawthorne said huskily. Tammy flushed, and the heat passed from her cheeks down her throat and beyond. Oh, no, why had she said that? A kiss? Flustered, she moved on. “If you can get away long enough to take Joe to the police station, then you can get back to guarding Kiley.” “Will do. I’ll be there ASAP.” Apprehension crawled through her and she shivered. “Hawthorne?” “Yeah?” “Be careful.” “There you go again, sounding all worried.” “Stow it.” She couldn’t tell him how much this case worried her, and that it concerned her every time he put himself in peril. “I just don’t want the agency to get a bad rap.” Hawthorne’s soft, deep voice caressed Tammy’s ears. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll talk to you later.” After she’d hung up, she sighed. What made her offer him a kiss? Was she a nut? Hawthorne probably thought she was a love-starved woman. The way her body reacted to him sometimes worried her. She knew sexual arousal when she felt it, and he did turn her on. Right. She didn’t need a man to love her. Never had and never would. Two failed relationships and one almost engagement had shown her she didn’t know how to do love right. Determined to forget her embarrassing faux pas, Tammy looked at the paperwork on her desk. Yet as minutes ticked by, she couldn’t shove away two of her feelings, one of impending disaster, the other worry for Hawthorne’s safety.

*****

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The killing machine pulled the microphone headset from his head and smiled. He patted the box that hummed with heat. Thorson had been right. This equipment worked great. He chuckled as he tossed the headset onto the passenger seat of the van. Clutching the steering wheel, he contemplated his next move. He’d hesitated when Thorson had suggested he take the fake police surveillance van and the helpful equipment inside. But now that he knew the next move, he’d be prepared. Seconds turned to minutes as he stared at the wall that surrounded the Chapman estate. From this angle, sequestered just around the bend in the road, the guards at the gate couldn’t see him. Though Thorson had told him to enter and get out quick, the machine waited. Thrills coursed down his spine as he thought about being caught by the paltry gate guards or another of Chapman’s pissant crew. He’d pulverize them. He licked his lips. He’d kill them all.

***** Kiley shifted in Scott’s arms, knowing she had to keep this moment in her memories forever. From experience she knew nothing lasted a lifetime. Certainly not the love she… Give it up, Kiley. She loved him. Would always love this man who stirred her in a thousand different ways. The needs he pulled from her encompassed her entire being. She shifted again, looking at his sleeping face. Anxious to assess, to record his every nuance, Kiley propped herself on one elbow to study Scott. Her gut clenched. Not so long ago she’d refused to think of him as Scott much less speak his first name. Now he could wring it from her with one touch or one request. This man had called forth feelings within her she’d never realized existed. Scott might be masculine and dangerous, but the gentle repose on his face made her forget their differences and remember glory in the passion and tenderness they’d shared. She smiled. She could hardly blame him for being dead to the world. Mindbending, pulse-pounding sex probably explained his exhaustion. The way Scott’s thick lashes made him appear vulnerable wrenched her heart. His lips, gentle, ravenous, and yet without mercy, had taken her to heights she had never experienced. The stubble on his chin had scraped her tender skin. Yet it had been a burn Kiley didn’t mind. If she could have that sweet sting for all her life, she’d be happy. Scott’s eyes opened, blinking as he pushed his arms above his head and stretched. He groaned and yawned, his sinuous, stalwart body rippling with power. Heat rushed around her body, excitement and arousal not far behind. Lord, help her. This man had power over her. And in a way, the idea still frightened her. Resolutely, Kiley shoved away her fear and replaced it with desire. “You are so gorgeous.”

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She traced his washboard stomach and leaned over to smother another of his yawns. One thing she hadn’t counted on was his ravenous need. As soon as her mouth met his, Scott’s arms came around her and drew her against him. When he finally released Kiley’s lips, she trembled with emotion. He brushed her hair back from her face. Then he winked. “I’m ugly in comparison to you.” “Positively scary.” “An ogre.” She laughed and tickled his side. He jerked with laughter, and now that she knew he had a vulnerable spot, she took full advantage. His laughter took on manic proportions, and she reveled in the exchange of power. “Hey,” he gasped, before grabbing her wrists and holding them together in one hand. “If you don’t stop, I’ll have to punish you.” Kiley grinned, contemplating the deliciousness of further punishment. Seconds later a knock on the door made Kiley practically jump out of her skin, and Scott twitched as if he’d been shot. “Who the hell—” he started to say as he got off the bed and snatched up his jeans. “Shhhh.” He glared at her, then smiled, obviously confused about whether to be annoyed or amused. He strode to the door. “Don’t,” Kiley said, grabbing her shirt and buttoning it as fast as she could. The knock came again. “It’s Hawthorne. I need to talk to you both.” She jerked on the rest of her clothes, her fingers feeling awkward. “Just a minute.” Glancing at Scott, she started to make the bed. Scott stood by the door, one hand on the doorknob. “Don’t open it yet—” Too late. She barely shoved the covers to the top of the bed before Scott opened the door. She winced. Hawthorne stood at the door, a distinct grin that told he knew what had happened between her and Scott. She realized her feet were bare and Hawthorne’s keen gaze catalogued every nuance of the room. Hell, he had to know what they’d done the last three hours. “What’s up?” Scott asked. Hawthorne’s gaze flipped from Scott’s naked torso to Kiley and then back again. His smile faded only slightly and he cleared his throat. “Sorry to bother you, but Tammy called. She says Joe is ready to give the police a description of the man he saw in the garage the night Susan was attacked.” Kiley strode away from the bed and to the doorway. “I need to see Joe.”

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Scott pushed his already tousled hair back from his face. He looked from Kiley to Hawthorne until the silence stretched. She felt certain he’d refuse to let her go anywhere. “It’s too risky,” Scott said to her. “I’m not letting you out of my sight, and you’re not risking your life to see this Joe character.” She sighed. “He has important information.” “Scott is right.” Hawthorne moved into the room, stuffing his hands in his jean pockets. “I’ll go with Joe to the police. I’ve known him at least as long as you have. He’s the skittish type. I’m not sure if Tammy went with him that he’d tell the police everything he knows.” Resigned, Kiley nodded. “I won’t budge from here, but will Mrs. Taggert let you drop your bodyguard duties long enough to help Joe?” Hawthorne paused with his hand on the doorknob. His gaze held amusement and an all-knowing gleam. He grinned. “Oh, yeah. When I tell her Danger is back on the case, she’ll be thrilled.” Scott winced. “I’m not back on the case.” Hawthorne’s smile didn’t fade. “It looks like you’re involved to me.” Scott gave his friend a withering glare. “I’m not involved as an employee of Taggert Security.” His attention transferred to Kiley. “This is purely personal now.” Her insides tumbled, warmed and excited by his public acknowledgment. Kiley hadn’t expected this, but now that he’d spoken, it felt damned good. She couldn’t help but give Scott a gratified smile, whether Hawthorne noticed or not. With a nod Hawthorne said, “All the same, I’m glad you’re here. I’ll contact the agency and let them know you’ll stay with Kiley.” After Hawthorne left, she strode toward Scott, and he met her in the middle of the room. When his arms surrounded her, Kiley knew that no harm could come to her with this man by her side. Her love grew as she looked into his eyes and saw admiration and fierce protectiveness. She knew neither emotion guaranteed that he loved her. She didn’t care. At least not for the time she stood in his embrace. Scott’s arms tightened. “You hungry?” She lifted a brow. “Depends on what there is to eat.” Mischief spread over his features. He kissed her forehead. “You taste good, but I’m afraid that isn’t what I had in mind.” On cue his stomach growled. She smiled. “Oh.” “Yeah. Oh.” Slowly he leaned down, sharing a soft kiss. “But I’d love to have you for dessert.” Scott’s sexy, deep voice purred against her senses. “That sounds delicious.”

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She tugged out of his arms and headed for the door. “Last one to the kitchen is a rotten egg.”

***** Joe pulled at the stocking cap on his head and then stared at the hole in his dirty blue knit gloves. “I don’t think this is a good idea.” Hawthorne kept his Jag at a steady speed, not much over the speed limit. He wanted to get to the police station, but not at the risk of drawing attention. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “Tammy is right, you know. This is the correct thing to do.” Joe sniffed, the sound more from indignation than a runny nose. “Yeah. She’s a good woman. Real sweet. Sassy. But sweet.” Hawthorne chuckled as he came to a stoplight and glanced over at Joe. “You’re right about sassy.” For the first time in a long time Hawthorne saw a smile cross the man’s face. It took years off his craggy mien. Joe sniffed again. “You don’t think she’s sweet?” Not sure of Joe’s motives, Hawthorne cleared his throat. “Sure. She’s a very nice person. A great employee for the agency.” Joe’s snort sounded like a pig’s protest. “You gotta be kidding. She’s a lot more than that. Where you been hiding your head, boy?” The older man’s vehemence took Hawthorne off guard. The light turned green and Hawthorne eased the car through the intersection. It had already been a weird day. First he’d realized that Danger and Kiley had moved to a new, more intimate level. That, thankfully, was none of his business. Then Tammy had expressed concern for him and had offered him a kiss. She wanted him to kiss her? Naw, she had to be yanking his chain. His relationship with her was based on friendship and professional association. They might kid each other, but kissing her would cross the line. Not that the idea hadn’t hovered at the edge of his mind for several months… Silence gathered in the car for some time before Joe spoke up. “Sorry, pal. I didn’t mean to come down on you like that, but she’s a gem. She’s got a special something. Something really, really good and kind. She hides it by pretending she’s tough.” Hawthorne’s brow wrinkled. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you had a crush on her, Joe.” The older man picked at one of the loose patches on his jacket. “I only loved one girl in my sorry life, and she’s long gone. But it isn’t too late for you, boy.” Hawthorne didn’t like the way the conversation turned, so he changed gears. “Are you going to tell the cops what you saw? You’re not going to clam up as soon as we get there, right?”

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Joe nodded. “Yeah. I’ll tell them.” They’d turned the corner and had two blocks to go when Hawthorne felt that tingling on the back of his neck that said something was wrong. He glanced in the rear view mirror. A hearse had pulled up behind them. Apprehension filled him, tightening his fingers on the steering wheel. Adrenaline surged. He had less than two seconds to react. He heard the gunshots that exploded the back tires of the Jag and seconds later, his car careened toward the oncoming traffic. Joe cursed as Hawthorne tried to wrestle the sports car into submission. Another shot crashed through the back window and hot pain seared Hawthorne’s left shoulder. His entire arm, including his hand, went numb. A truck coming the other direction honked loudly as the Jag swerved in front of it. Hawthorne didn’t have time to feel terror as he manhandled the car with his right hand. A tremendous jolt and the screech of metal crushing filled Hawthorne’s ears. Then all went black.

***** Kiley knew she’d never been happier. What could be better than sitting on a stool in the kitchen, snacking on thighspreading food? Nope. It didn’t get any better than this. Well, only mind-boggling sex with Scott Danger was better. She grinned evilly as Scott sat on the stool next to her and plopped the jar of peanut butter onto the breakfast bar. “This is a great idea,” he said, twisting open the jar and shoving a spoon into the creamy food. “Thanks.” Scott spooned the peanut butter into Kiley’s mouth, and then she bit off a piece of milk chocolate and savored the sinful combination. As she licked her lips, she saw appreciation cross Scott’s face. “Mmm,” she murmured. “Almost as good as sex.” One of his eyebrows winged upward, and a silly grin curved his wide mouth. “Almost?” She shrugged and leaned closer to him. “I take that back. Nothing could be better than making love with you.” His gaze grew heated, and he ignored the peanut butter in favor of a deep kiss. When he released her, her head felt fuzzy and her body hot. “More?” he asked. “Peanut butter or kisses?” “Each one. Either one.” 211

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“One sin at a time. I’ll take peanut butter, then another kiss.” So he obliged her. Several scoops and several kisses later, the door to the kitchen swung open and Kiley’s uncle stepped inside. A scowl wrinkled his face. Kiley felt her stomach drop when she saw his expression. Her uncle took in the setting with one sweep. “Isn’t this cozy?” “It was,” Scott said. He put down the spoon and screwed the lid on the peanut butter jar. Whether her uncle could guess that she now had an intimate relationship with Scott, she couldn’t know. But his glower said he didn’t like what he saw now. “Hi. What’s up?” she asked. “What’s up? I think I should be asking you that question.” He pointed at Scott. “What is he doing here?” She explained the attack on Scott, and how Hawthorne had left to take Joe to the agency. “Then he’s taking Joe to the police. This may be the breakthrough we needed.” “This is poppycock,” her uncle said as he gestured at Scott again. “This man is off the case, and Hawthorne left you with him? I ought to—” “Shut up for once,” she said, tired of his tirades, “and listen to what I have to say.” When Uncle Reginald closed his mouth and his face turned red, she wondered if he was about to concede or have a heart attack. Scott stood, towering over the older man. “If Joe can confirm the identity of the man who attacked Susan, then we may know who is behind the threats to Kiley.” “We already know it is Thorson,” Uncle Reginald said with a disgruntled expression. Scott nodded. “But we don’t have proof.” Uncle Reginald shrugged and put his hands out, palms up. “There’s never enough proof. All the murders he’s done over the years and never any proof.” Barely taking a breath, he threw an angry glance Kiley’s way. “And having this man guarding you is not acceptable—” “It’s not up to you, Uncle.” Kiley slipped off the stool and stood next to Scott. “It’s up to me. And I want Scott with me.” Damn, that felt good to say. Uncle Reginald’s expression turned sarcastic. “Scott? Aren’t we getting a little cozy with the hired help, dear?” Kiley heaved a sigh, trying to keep her blood pressure from skyrocketing. “I’ve had just about enough of this. Who I am cozy with is none of your business. If you can’t be bothered to explain to me about those photo albums, I sure as hell don’t have time to explain my relationships.” Uncle Reginald pulled out a chair and sat in it with a thump. “The photo albums have nothing to do with this.”

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“I’m not so sure about that,” Scott said. “Thorson is in those photographs, and that leads me to believe they have something to do with what is happening now. Tell me I’m wrong, Mr. Chapman. Tell me that there isn’t something deeper here than meets the eye.” Kiley noted that both looked determined. Scott possessed a ruffled but “don’t give a monkey’s ass” appearance, and her uncle sported his “executive in charge” frown. She had a feeling things would build soon to a raging storm. “Tell us,” she said, looking at her uncle. “Do you believe Thorson is behind everything that’s happened, including the attack on Susan?” Her uncle shifted on the chair, hooking his right ankle onto his left knee. “Undoubtedly.” Disgusted with the skullduggery, Kiley said, “Undoubtedly. Why don’t you just tell me what the big deal is with the photo albums?” “There’s nothing to tell.” Kiley cursed under her breath, and her uncle’s head snapped up. She half expected him to chastise her for having a toilet mouth. His lips compressed. “It doesn’t matter anyway.” “What?” she asked. “Edith is on her way here right now. She called me while I was on the way back here.” He looked as if he might explode any minute. “She wouldn’t tell me why she was coming. I figured she’d had about enough of the chicanery and had decided to come over here and kick some bodyguard butt.” Kiley looked at the ceiling and massaged the back of her neck. “I don’t think she’d do that.” “I’m sure she cleared Hawthorne to take Joe to the police. He’s pretty much by the book,” Scott said, putting his hand on Kiley’s shoulder. “There’s no reason for her to be upset.” Uncle Reginald leaned forward in his chair, his hands gripping the arms. “How would you know? You can’t possibly know her as well as I do.” He glanced at Kiley. “Neither of you can know her that well. There are things in her past. Things in all our pasts that you couldn’t know.” Before anyone could say another word, the kitchen door swung open and Mrs. Taggert walked inside. She smiled wanly. “Fancy meeting you here. Perfect too. There are important things I must explain, and I hope I’m not too late.”

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Chapter Twenty-One Mrs. Taggert asked them to move to the library, and Kiley was surprised not only at herself, but also at everyone else when they proceeded without a peep. A switch for her uncle, to be sure. Mrs. Taggert closed the double doors and turned to the small group. “Please have a seat.” “What is this all about?” Uncle Reginald moved toward the love seat. Mrs. Taggert waved her hand in a semi-circle. “All in good time, Reggie. Just get comfortable. I have a feeling we’ll be here a long time.” He didn’t look pleased, his mouth tilted at an angle that said he might argue. Then he subsided, glowering. Kiley’s curiosity increased another millimeter as she took a seat next to Scott on the couch parallel to the love seat. “Perhaps I’ll get brandies for all of us,” Uncle Reginald said, rising and heading for the minibar on the other side of the room. As he fixed drinks, Kiley watched Mrs. Taggert pace the room, apparently unwilling to speak until Reginald finished. Finally they had snifters of brandy in hand. Scott, though, put his on the side table without taking a sip. Kiley had a feeling she’d need the artificial sense of strength, and she tasted her drink. “Edith, let’s get on with it,” Uncle Reginald said. “I feel like I’m on Columbo or something.” Mrs. Taggert smiled and shrugged. Instead of sitting down, she stood near the fireplace where she could face them. “In a way, that’s what this is about. Murder.” Surprise and fear arched through Kiley. “Whose murder?” “Not just one person’s demise, dear,” Mrs. Taggert said. “Several.” “Why are we talking about this now?” Uncle Reginald asked. “Because I’ve thought long and hard about what Kiley said in relation to the photo albums. I think she deserves to know. It could save her life.” When no one commented, she continued. “I’m tired of the charade. And this threat to Kiley’s life has made me reassess decisions I made. Mistakes I made many years ago.” Kiley noted that the hardness had drained from the older woman’s face. Softness touched Mrs. Taggert’s mouth and left her appearing vulnerable. “The photo album you discovered, Kiley, is a record of the history Reginald, your…parents, and I have with each other.” Mrs. Taggert paced, taking a sip of her

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drink before pausing to look at them. “My family met the Chapmans back in the thirties when both families engaged in a little side work.” Uncle Reginald cleared his throat, but said nothing. Kiley did it for him. “Side work, as in…disreputable?” Mrs. Taggert nodded and took another drink. “Disreputable is probably a euphemism.” Kiley’s gaze swung from Mrs. Taggert to her uncle. His face grew stony. “But I thought you didn’t meet my father and Uncle until the sixties.” Mrs. Taggert smiled grimly. “Like I said, dear, there are a lot of secrets to unfold. This is the first of many.” She put her drink on the table next to Reginald’s, pausing to give him something that looked like a glare. Scott leaned forward. “What type of illegal activity?” “To put it plainly, I’m talking about bootlegging. But my family wanted out. They’d seen too many people die. My family convinced the Chapman clan to bail out. The two families agreed to move to Colorado. No one knew us here. There were many opportunities to start fresh.” Starting fresh. Kiley understood that concept. Not so long ago she’d begun anew, and she realized the difficulties it could bring. “Admirable.” Mrs. Taggert’s shoulders sagged. “For a time we took the straight and narrow path. The Wandleighs earned legitimate money in pharmaceuticals. Soon my father wanted to expand and put money into the Chapman business. Thorson joined forces with the Wandleigh and Chapman Enterprises late in 1969. Reggie here was ripe to learn the business from his father. This is where the whole thing went to hell.” “How?” Scott asked. “I met Thorson,” Uncle Reginald said, then knocked back the rest of his brandy. His face flushed and he coughed. “I met that son of a bitch during a friendly round of golf and introduced him to the business. When he was groomed and ready, he helped us with the distribution division.” Scott shifted until he sat on the edge of the couch. “Let me guess. Thorson was distributing prescription and prohibited drugs illegally.” “Yes,” Mrs. Taggert said. Her brows rose, and she looked impressed with Scott’s quick assessment. She paused, as if waiting for the dirty information to absorb. Uncle Reginald sank back in his chair like a deflated balloon. “If I’d stopped Thorson, these people would have squashed us like bugs.” Kiley’s mind spun with questions. So many question marks that she didn’t know where to start first. She twisted her hands together, startled at the coldness seeping through her fingers. “Squashed as in dead?” “Dead,” her uncle said. Scott looked skeptical. “If I remember correctly, Thorson ran this behind-the-scenes drug dealing enterprise until the cops caught up with his operation.” 215

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Kiley sat back, wishing she could sink into the upholstery and pretend she wasn’t hearing this. “How long did you let Thorson call the shots until you decided to give him up to the police?” Scott asked as he turned his scrutiny toward her uncle. “When did you become a part of the problem and not the solution?” Anger burst into Uncle Reginald’s face. “We were all a part of it for a time.” “No,” Kiley whispered. “You didn’t…” Instead of speaking, her uncle stared at her, the truth full in his eyes. A tremble started deep in Kiley’s stomach, and suddenly the liquor on her tongue tasted sour. Betrayal had reared its deformed head and resentment stirred inside her. Her uncle had done more than hide the truth from her, he participated in something vile and she’d never known until now. To top it off, her father had allowed something illegal to occur under his nose. When Reginald didn’t speak, Mrs. Taggert said, “Reginald didn’t know about Thorson’s shady past until Thorson had established a clientele. Many of the clientele had bags of money. These people would have been extremely upset if they’d found out Reginald and Kiley’s father wanted to clip Thorson’s wings. It’s a legacy that has cost the lives of so many people.” Scott’s eyes turned stormy. “How long did all of you allow this to go on?” “For years until we realized how wrong it was,” Uncle Reginald said, his voice softening with something like remorse. Mrs. Taggert walked toward Kiley. “Your father was an integral part of trying to get Reginald here out of Thorson’s end of the business. When he couldn’t get Reginald to jump Thorson’s ship, he told the police everything he knew. He gave the police all the information he spent months digging up. If he’d made one wrong slip and Thorson and his thugs had found out, he would have been killed.” “He was a damn fool, my brother,” Uncle Reginald said. Heat filled Kiley’s face. “A brave damn fool.” Sympathy crossed Mrs. Taggert’s face. “Exactly. One of the bravest damn fools I’ve ever had the privilege to know.” Was that a wistful sound Kiley heard deep in Mrs. Taggert’s voice? She couldn’t say for certain. Scott pinned Kiley’s uncle with a frown. “Mr. Chapman didn’t rat on Reggie.” Mrs. Taggert nodded. She sat between Kiley and Scott, leaning back on the couch in a casual position out of character with the tenseness lining her lips. “He couldn’t betray his brother. So he saved Reginald and sent Thorson up the creek.” A burning sensation punished Kiley’s eyes. No. She wouldn’t cry. She’d done enough of that lately. “But my father was never a part of the actual drug dealing?” “Never,” her uncle said. Some relief grasped her in comforting hands. At least she had that. “Thank God.” 216

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Mrs. Taggert put her hand on Kiley’s shoulder. “That’s not all.” “Please, go on,” Kiley whispered. “I’ve got to know.” The phone rang, making Kiley gasp and the rest of them start in surprise. Uncle Reginald got up and reached the phone on the side table. “Yes, this is Mr. Chapman. Right. She’s here.” After listening for a few moments his expression turned grim. “Certainly.” He turned to Mrs. Taggert. “Tammy Carter from the agency.” Kiley’s alarm bells started ringing. Somehow she knew whatever Tammy had to say couldn’t be good. When Mrs. Taggert rose from the couch and took the phone, it wasn’t her expression, but what she said that shocked Kiley. Curses spewed from the normally dignified woman. Kiley glanced at everyone in turn. Her uncle looked shocked, but Scott didn’t. “Are they all right? What’s their condition?” Mrs. Taggert asked, taking a long sip of brandy. She carried the cordless phone with her and put her snifter down on the fireplace mantle. She took a deep breath, released it slowly, and glanced around the room, apprehension showing through. “Has Joe been able to tell the police what exactly happened?” Scott glanced at Kiley, worry crossing his face. Mrs. Taggert paced the room, listening for some time. “Okay, it could be worse. At least they’re alive. I’ll leave for the hospital right away. What? All right, but—” Mrs. Taggert’s frown grew a mile wide, then softened. She listened again. “All right. I understand. And you’re correct. I need to finish here. But I want a full report as soon as you get there.” After she hung up, everyone questioned at once until she put her hands up, asking for silence. “I’ve got bad news. Joe Cartolli and Hawthorne were ambushed by a shooter while driving to the police station.” Kiley put her hand to her mouth, speechless, her throat tight and clogged. Scott cursed, his word choice almost as virulent as Mrs. Taggert’s earlier. Uncle Reginald stood, sloshing his brandy in the process. “What does this mean for Kiley?” “What are their conditions?” Scott asked, his voice rough as he also rose from his chair and moved closer to his employer. “Joe is in good condition. Apparently he’s even tougher than Hawthorne. Must be his life on the street. He received only a few bumps and bruises. Hawthorne was shot in the left shoulder and lost quite a bit of blood. He also sustained a concussion and bruised ribs,” Mrs. Taggert said. Kiley shut her eyes, tears stinging her eyelids. “Thank goodness they’re alive.” “What happened exactly?” Scott asked, scowling. “They were on I-25 when a hearse came up behind them and the shooter inside took out the back tires of Hawthorne’s Jaguar. A bullet hit Hawthorne and that’s when

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he lost control of the car. He barely missed hitting a semi, then he hit one of those median barriers.” “Any witnesses to ID the shooter or get a license plate number?” Scott asked. “Two witnesses who stopped to help were so shaken up by what they’d just seen that they couldn’t ID anything.” Scott muttered under his breath and raked a hand through his hair. You’re going to the hospital?” “No. Tammy’s heading over there now. I’ll stay here and finish telling the rest of the story.” Uncle Reginald snorted. “I’m not so sure about that.” Mrs. Taggert turned on him, her expression fierce. “Stow it, Reginald. Enough is enough. Now more than ever Kiley has to know.” Then, without preamble, she turned and strode to Kiley. Looking down on her, Mrs. Taggert’s face reflected more than tiredness, more than worry, and more than contriteness. She looked devastated. “Kiley, Arnold helped your father by giving evidence against Thorson. This was before Arnold and I married. Before I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life.” Kiley held her breath, her stomach knotting with nerves. “What mistake?” Mrs. Taggert swallowed hard. “Your mother and father tried to have children and they couldn’t. It put a strain on their marriage. Your mother started to experience bouts of depression. Clinical depression.” Kiley frowned, confused. “Father never told me.” Uncle Reginald saluted her with his brandy. “There were many things he didn’t tell you.” “Let her finish,” Scott said. “Why you—” “Shut up, Reginald.” Shifting on her feet, Mrs. Taggert threw him another withering frown. “If you’re not going to support your niece for once, get the hell out.” “Maybe I will.” He stalked to the bar and refilled his glass. He turned to leave. Regret filled Kiley. “Uncle, don’t—” He held up his free hand. “She’s right. I haven’t supported you like I should have over the years. Not like you’ve needed. But I also can’t stand here and see everything you’ve believed over the years destroyed.” “You mean everything you’ve lied about,” Mrs. Taggert said. “Better to lie than to ruin her life,” he said. As he left the room, he closed the door behind him. While Kiley had thought she’d been shocked earlier by the vehemence in her uncle’s objections and Mrs. Taggert’s implacable demeanor, this topped it.

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“I was a single, lonely woman.” The older woman walked away, as if she couldn’t bear to stay close to Kiley. She reached for her drink on the mantle, took a long swallow, then set it down. “I won’t make excuses for what I did.” Kiley’s nerves tingled like live wires, and she realized that if she held her snifter any tighter, it would probably crack in her hands. “But your father and I…” Mrs. Taggert licked her lips. “We began to meet.” Suspicion trickled into Kiley like ice water. “Meet.” “We had an affair.” If it hadn’t been such a serious situation, Kiley might have laughed at the soap opera her life had become. Mrs. Taggert’s revealing words broke something within Kiley, and yet a strange calm covered what had rattled nerves moments before. When she glanced at Scott, a furrow creased the area between his brows. He reached for her hand, and his skin warmed her cold fingers. “Go on,” Kiley said. Mrs. Taggert blinked, but remained quiet for half a minute, as if she couldn’t believe Kiley’s mild reaction. “After your mother was hospitalized for her depression— ” “Hospitalized?” Kiley burst out. “For a week. She had significant problems, Kiley. She wasn’t suicidal, but your father didn’t want to take the chance.” Kiley’s stomach burned with building resentment. “He had her committed.” Waving a dismissing hand, Mrs. Taggert said, “No. No. Nothing as serious as that. He loved your mother and wouldn’t that. But she felt depressed because she couldn’t have children, and for who knows what other reasons. He wanted her well.” Kiley pulled her hand from Scott’s and reached for her brandy. There was a lot of drinking going on in the room right now, but she didn’t care. Now was as good as any to dull the pain of discovery. “So he honored that love by having an affair with you? Was she put in the hospital during the time you were…were with my father?” Mrs. Taggert’s face froze. “It wasn’t like that. We weren’t together until after she’d been in the hospital a week.” “Humph.” Kiley stood, her stance confrontational as she stepped toward the other woman. “Well, how nice for you both. As if that makes a difference.” Kiley—” Scott said. “No, I want to hear all of it. The whole dirty package.” Mrs. Taggert approached her as well, as if intimate distance would cure the animosity Kiley felt dissolving her bones. “It was a mistake. But in a curious, backassward way it was also a wonderful thing.” “How? Self-gratification? Did you want my father but my mother took him away— ”

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“Nothing like that. He came to me one night to talk. To say that he wanted to break it off with me because Elaine needed him. He told me he loved her. It hurt. I won’t deny it didn’t, because I was a little in love with him. But by that time I also had some news for him.” Mrs. Taggert swallowed, her voice coming raspy and thick. “I was pregnant.” Kiley’s stomach rolled. She felt as if she’d swallowed a lead ball. “Pregnant?” “Yes. Pregnant. With you.”

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Chapter Twenty-Two Scott could see Kiley’s face, just barely, as she stood almost nose-to-nose with Mrs. Taggert. Kiley’s mother. Uncertain, he didn’t move, didn’t speak. The entire room remained quiet as a catacomb. His thoughts ran amok like mice trapped in a maze. He couldn’t believe what he’d heard, but deep in his gut he knew it had to be true. Mrs. Taggert might have kept secrets, but the conviction on her stern face told the truth. Kiley finally made the first move, her gaze shifting, her expression cracking enough that she showed vulnerability. Tough exterior slipped away, and she shook her head in denial. “Is this another lie?” Kiley asked. Mrs. Taggert reached for Kiley’s shoulders. “No more lies. I’m telling you the truth. I’m your mother.” Scott saw Kiley’s face harden, then jump to amazement. “Tell me. Tell me what…what happened next.” So far so good. She wasn’t telling Mrs. Taggert to fuck off. Yet. How would he feel if someone had told him that the mother he’d known all his life wasn’t his parent? Mrs. Taggert released Kiley’s shoulders. “Perhaps we should sit down.” “No, I want to hear it now. No more stalling.” Oh, yeah. Anger. Hurt. He could see it as she clenched her hands into fists and her lips pressed into a thin line. Mrs. Taggert paused, and Scott wondered if she regretted admitting her parenthood. He cleared his throat then put his hand on Kiley’s shoulder. “I can leave if it will make you both more comfortable.” Kiley turned her gaze to him, her face impassive, almost as if her anger would slice him in two. Through the frozen look in her eyes, he couldn’t tell. “Please stay.” He retreated to his chair. Better to place distance between himself and the opposing parties while they resolved their problems. Mrs. Taggert shifted, glancing back at the snifter she’d left on the mantle. Maybe she wanted that drink almost as much as she wanted to tell Kiley the whole story. But she didn’t budge. “Your father was an honorable man, Kiley, no matter what you think of me. Yes, we had an affair, but he never meant your…meant Elaine any harm. He did love her.” Kiley’s face shifted to impatient. “So what did he say when he discovered you were pregnant?”

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Sighing, Mrs. Taggert said, “He knew the baby was his. He said he’d tell Elaine what happened. That he wanted his baby to be a part of his life and he wanted to take responsibility.” She moved away from Kiley, retreating to the fireplace and keeping her back to her audience. “Your father was like that. Quiet, unassuming. Gentle. But he also had an inner strength that was amazing. It was one of the things I admired about him.” She took a deep breath. “He knew the affair would hurt Elaine, but he hoped their marriage would survive.” Kiley made a huffing noise, and Scott knew then her anger hadn’t dissolved. “What happened next?” Mrs. Taggert turned back, and her eyes glistened with tears. “He asked me if I would give you up. If he could take you and raise you with Elaine. I said I wouldn’t allow it. That I couldn’t let another woman raise my child.” Kiley’s smile looked closer to a smirk. “Yet you did give me up.” Mrs. Taggert nodded. “Believe me, it was the hardest decision I ever made.” Scott wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what. A helpless feeling grew inside him. He didn’t enjoy seeing Kiley and Mrs. Taggert twisted into knots. Didn’t want to see them devoured by old mistakes. A small tear dripped from one of Kiley’s eyes, then another rapidly following. Pain clutched at his gut. Mrs. Taggert seemed to shrink, her gaze lowering, as if she couldn’t bear to see her daughter cry. “I left Colorado immediately after that, back to a cousin’s house in Maine. I hadn’t told anyone in Colorado why I was leaving. I lied to my parents at first, but my cousin called them and explained everything.” She gave a wry smile and made a sound of disbelief. “Martha always was a blabbermouth, but I think she believed she was doing the right thing. My parents were so disgraced by what had happened, and that I’d essentially run away from home, that they didn’t come after me. It wasn’t long before everyone here knew I was pregnant. I know Reggie had figured out by then who the father was.” She drew her arms close to her body, as if trying to shelter herself. “Everyone blamed me, I think, for what happened.” Scott wondered if Mrs. Taggert would crack and break. Her face had turned pallid. He reassessed. Determination and strength surged through her so fiercely he could see it etched in her features, in her movements. Kiley’s body looked stiff and tight. “My father slept with you. It was as much his fault as it was yours.” Mrs. Taggert smiled weakly and pushed a hand through her hair. “That didn’t matter. People hated me for what I’d done to Elaine.” “Even Arnold?” Kiley asked, referring to Mrs. Taggert’s later-to-be husband. “No.” Mrs. Taggert sagged against the mantle even further. “Apparently he thought it was your father who was the bastard. Arnold wrote me while I was in Maine and told me he wanted to beat your father into a pulp.” She gave a ragged laugh. “Everyone wanted to take sides.”

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Kiley shrugged. “Isn’t that always the case?” When her mother didn’t respond she threw a glance at Scott. Mother. He’d never thought of his employer as a mother before, but now that he looked at the two women, he saw more than a resemblance in their looks. The tilt of Mrs. Taggert’s chin matched Kiley’s, and her jaw was almost as stubborn. Even the curve of their lips resembled one another’s. Damned if there wasn’t a true family likeness, and why hadn’t he noticed before? Mrs. Taggert said, “I received a note from your father while I was still in Maine, months after we’d last spoken. It was agony for me wondering what he’d say.” “You thought he would call you and say he wanted you back?” Kiley asked, a hint of accusation lacing the words. Shaking her head, Mrs. Taggert drew herself up straight. “I never thought that. I knew how much he loved Elaine. What I feared was that Elaine would say she wanted you.” Pain flashed across Kiley’s face. “Why?” “Because I wanted to keep you, Kiley.” Kiley licked her lips, and a deep shudder moved through her body like an earthquake. Scott almost rose then and took Kiley in his arms. He didn’t want to see her suffer anymore. When Kiley didn’t respond to her last statement, Mrs. Taggert’s lower lip trembled. His sympathy for Mrs. Taggert grew. He knew then the basis for her strength. She’d faced much more than the death of her husband, she’d experienced the agony of giving up her only child. Mrs. Taggert put her hands behind her back and took up pacing slowly once more. “When your father called, my worst fears were confirmed. Elaine wanted to adopt you.” “How did you feel about that?” Kiley asked calmly, as if she might be talking about the weather. “I knew you needed two parents to love you. And your father wanted you. I knew it wasn’t just to appease Elaine and to give her the child she’d always wanted. I knew Elaine well enough and I felt she’d be a good mother to you.” She shrugged. “And for me…there was the stigma of unwed motherhood.” Kiley pushed her hair back, and the black strands tangled around her head, but she remained silent. Her mother swallowed hard. “When I came back to Colorado and gave the baby to Elaine, I knew I’d also done the right thing. Elaine hadn’t deserved the crap life had given her, and in a way I was responsible for part of her pain. It was my gift…giving her a baby and the life she wanted with the man she loved.”

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Kiley’s eyes changed to thundercloud intensity. Scott had to grit his teeth again. He wanted to give her the strength in his body and his soul so this hurt would resolve. But realism struck him full force. There was no way to drive the pain away quickly, if ever. “I see,” Kiley said. “A way of paying penance.” Mrs. Taggert nodded and reached for her snifter. She walked to the crystal decanter that held the brandy and poured another measure. He half expected her to gulp the liquid. Instead she sipped with calm assurance. “It was strange, really, seeing the cross between hatred and forgiveness in Elaine’s eyes.” Mrs. Taggert winced, as if the memory hurt. “Just like what I see in your eyes now, Kiley.” Kiley’s eyes filled with uncertainty. Scott ached to take her in his arms and tell her it didn’t matter. She was still the woman he wanted, that her value as a person, her very existence in this world had been an incredible gift. And, despite her faults, Mrs. Taggert had always been an amazing woman and she’d given birth to the most remarkable woman he’d ever met. Silence drew out, until Mrs. Taggert finally spoke again. “I know that you may never forgive me. But it’s the truth and it’s out in the open. All I can do is hope you’ll eventually understand.” Kiley turned toward them both. “I need…I need some time to digest this.” Mrs. Taggert nodded. “Of course.” Kiley headed for the door. “I’m going outside for some fresh air.” Before Scott could say a word she left, closing the door behind her with a definitive click. As much as he wanted to follow her, he stayed. Things had happened with the speed of a cloudburst, blasting over the room with its violence. He almost felt sick. “She won’t forgive me,” Mrs. Taggert said, breaking the thick silence. For once in his life he couldn’t think of a thing to say. When he didn’t speak she put down her drink and stalked from the room. Scott sank into his chair, feeling powerless and drained.

***** It hurts like it’s never hurt before. Kiley’s heart drummed until she thought it might burst as she took the path to the gazebo with hard strides, her vision swimming with tears. She avoided the urge to run. Although she saw no one, she didn’t want a soul to see her lose control. A frustrated sob escaped her lips. Still, after all this time, she worried about maintaining composure. Who gave a flying rat’s ass? Everyone had lied to her. All her life her father, her real mother, and Elaine schemed to keep the truth tucked away. Her uncle had hidden reality from her without blinking an eye.

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The gazebo came into view, and she trotted up the steps and sank onto the bench. Not so long ago she’d shared a kiss with Scott there. If times had been different, she might have sat here and replayed that passionate kiss. She might have tingled and burned when she recalled how his kiss had made her feel. Scott. Kiley witnessed the sympathy in his eyes. She didn’t know how she knew it for certain. Since they’d made love a connection formed between them. He hadn’t followed her. He knew she needed time to decipher her scattered thoughts. Cool wind drifted through the gazebo, and goose bumps prickled her skin. She rubbed her arms. Kiley shuddered as she realized the quiet around her deepened. In her headlong rush to leave the house she’d ignored her surroundings. Sounds she would have noticed any other time had clouded like fuzzy edges in a fading dream. Ignoring her unease, she noticed more clouds moving closer to the estate. Maybe her agonized thoughts would drown in rain. Determined to stay ensconced until the rain trapped her, she continued to observe the sky. Blankness covered her thoughts, and a languid weariness took hold. Seconds later, she slid down, laying her head back against the white wood of a support pillar. If she closed her eyes and forgot what she’d learned, the world would come close. The fresh breeze would slip through her. The birds would sing and she’d feel their soothing melody deep in her bones. Slipping into a trance, Kiley waited for the pain to seep from her. For blissful seconds she rode the self-induced tranquilizer. Seconds, maybe minutes later, something cold and hard pressed against the side of her skull. Kiley jerked, a frightened gasp slipping past her lips. Her eyes snapped open and she gazed into the glacial eyes of Jackson Cole. “Quiet,” he said as he pressed the gun to her head again. “Don’t make a sound or you’re dead.” Stark fear rippled through her body, but she didn’t make a noise, certain he meant business. “Now,” he said, “You and I are taking a little trip.” “What—” “Shut up,” he said through his teeth, his eyes narrowing to mean slits. He pressed the gun tighter against her temple. “Unless you want to die right here, bitch, you’ll listen and keep your trap closed. Understood?” Paralyzing terror arched through her before she could stop it, and for a moment her entire throat and body went immobile. She knew he’d attacked Susan and left her for dead, and Kiley had no doubt he intended far worse for her. Dread tasted like blood, salty and metallic on her tongue. Before she could marshal her senses and muzzle the memories, they leapt back at her like a war veteran’s flashbacks. She remembered Barclay’s deranged needs, his fiery rage. Kiley trembled under the force, letting it swamp her.

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It was happening again. Oh, God. Not again! A trickle of surprise made its way through the panic overrunning her mind. Had this man subdued all the security? How could he have entered the area without detection? Where was Rommel? Cole grinned, and the smile she’d thought charming enough to grace the cover of her magazine became heartless. Evil. She’d thought Barclay had shown true malevolence. Wrong. She’d never encountered anyone as soulless as this man. He reached out with his other hand, and she flinched instinctively. “No, I’ve got other plans for you.” He took the gun from the side of her head and gestured upward with the barrel. She noticed a silencer covered the barrel of the weapon. “Get up.” Kiley did as told, and when he pushed her toward the steps, she almost fell. One wood tread creaked as she stepped down. Hairs on the back of her neck tingled as he placed his hand on her lower back. She couldn’t suppress another shiver. When she reached the last step, he poked her in the back with the gun. “Move it. Toward the hedge.” As she followed directions, recrimination chased hard on her heels. Since she hadn’t recognized this man’s evil until now, she’d made it easy for this monster to assault Susan and to possibly harm her family. Her uncle. Her…mother. Scott. Her heart ached with more than fear. It ached with a piercing love for Scott. Would she see him again? Unlike when Barclay had imprisoned her, she wouldn’t escape this time. Would this relentless bastard end her life on some back road where her family and Scott wouldn’t find her? They would search and agonize for days or months. She would rot before they stumbled across her body. Stop. She had to maintain control. She wouldn’t succumb like a coward. She couldn’t give up. If Kiley knew anything she knew she could survive. Another certainty washed over her. No matter what, Scott would search for her until he found her. He might not love her to her dying day. But he would find her if it was the last thing he ever did. The thought put strength into her limbs and she stopped trembling. When they reached the tall hedge that covered the security fence, Cole’s hard fingers pressed into her left shoulder, and she twitched. “Push the bushes aside,” he said. “What?” “You heard me, you dumb bitch. Push them aside.” Kiley parted the stiff hedge, expecting the thick plant to resist. Instead it broke away and revealed a nice, man-sized hole in the fence. How had he disabled the alarm system? She didn’t have a chance to ask, for he shoved her straight through and she

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landed with a grunt and a gasp facedown on the gravel. Rocks scored her cheek and abraded her palms and Kiley flinched in pain. “Get up,” he said, dragging her from the ground. She didn’t bother to look at her cut hands. He propelled her down a side path toward a back road she knew led away from the estate. The primitive trail wandered into the fields for a time before dumping off on a paved road. The paved road led to the highway. Kiley knew if he took her that far she’d encounter bigger trouble. She didn’t scream—she understood if she made a peep this asshole would kill her without remorse. Seconds later an old blue boat of a car came into view. A gas-guzzler, she thought hysterically, amazed she’d even noticed. “This is it, bitch. End of the road.” This was it. He would do her now. Jesus, God, he wouldn’t even wait. He would kill her here. She had two seconds to curse Thorson, curse Cole, and whisper final words in her head. I love you Scott. Pain exploded like a lightning flash inside her skull, and then the world went blessedly black.

***** Rain splattered the library windows, and Scott glanced at the dark clouds. “Has anyone seen Kiley?” Chapman asked as he walked into the library. Scott’s head came up. He’d stared at his shoes in mute silence for over ten minutes, even after Mrs. Taggert had returned to the library. Scott rose from his chair. “She went outside to think,” Mrs. Taggert said. “She’s going to get wet.” “She needed time alone,” Scott said. “How long has she been gone?” Chapman asked. Unease skittered up Scott’s spine. “About twenty minutes.” Everything within him came to full alert. “Have you looked through the entire house?” Chapman looked grim. “I went everywhere.” His brows rose. “In fact, I haven’t seen Douglas or Bartles lately.” “Who?” Mrs. Taggert asked. “Two of my main security people. They’re supposed to do a check on the grounds every hour.” Scott headed for the door, his heart pounding with sudden dread. “Where are the rest of your security people?”

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Chapman followed him, and Mrs. Taggert trailed close behind. “One is out sick today. Called in and said he had the flu. The other has to pick his car up from the shop.” “That leaves three security people?” Scott asked. “For the moment, but—” Scott cursed, and then headed down the main hall leading to the back of the house. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this. Both of you stay inside and don’t let anyone else in unless it’s your security people or me.” Mrs. Taggert trotted to keep up with him. “But—” “But nothing. I don’t work for you anymore, so I don’t take orders. If you don’t hear from me in fifteen minutes, call the police.”

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Chapter Twenty-Three Tammy sat at Joe’s bedside, her hand covering his warm, rough palm. His jaw peppered with five o’clock shadow, he looked rough and tough. She squeezed his hand lightly. For the first time since she had entered the hospital ward ten minutes earlier, he smiled. “Not exactly dressed to impress a lady,” he said, his voice weak. He looked down at his hospital gown. “You look fine, Joe.” “You don’t.” She gave him a brittle smile. “Thanks a lot.” “You’re worried. I can see it in your face, missy.” “Of course I’m worried about you. You’ve been in a terrible accident.” “About Hawthorne. You’re worried about him.” Tammy couldn’t deny it to a man as discerning as Joe. He might be homeless, but he wasn’t stupid. He could read her far too easily. All the way to the hospital, Tammy had repeated a mantra. Joe will be all right. Hawthorne will be all right. “They won’t let me see Hawthorne.” “Why won’t they let you see him?” “I’m not a family member or his wife.” “So lie to them.” “What?” “Tell them you’re his main squeeze.” Warmth suffused her face. She grinned despite the situation. “I’m not his main squeeze.” His returning smile spelled pure mischief. “Joe,” she said in a warning tone. “All right, all right. But do you want to see him or not?” “Of course. I…of course.” His brows winked up. “Then you’re gonna have to tell them something so you can get in to see him. Besides, if you find out, I want a full report.” Joe gently disengaged his hand from hers and rubbed his fingers over his face. “God, missy, this is a fine mess I’m in.” “I’m so sorry this happened. I don’t know how or why—” “Think with your intuition, girl. You know why this happened.” 229

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Tammy flinched at the man’s hard tone and obvious glare. “I don’t understand.” Joe inhaled deeply then let out the air with a whoosh. “Your colors. Your colors.” Her colors. He’d mentioned them the day they’d first met. “I don’t do that anymore, Joe. I stopped using my psychic abilities a long time ago.” “That isn’t it. You don’t know what a gift it is. For someone who can use it right.” She shook her head and smiled gently, despite wanting to run from the room. Tammy never discussed her latent psychic powers. Sure, this man might have a similar gift, but that didn’t make it easier for her to talk about the visions she’d avoided for several years. “I choose not to,” she said. “I need my strength and it’s impossible to hold down a job if I’m awash in colors. It’s…I just can’t.” He blinked and then stared at the wall behind her. His inattention reminded her that she didn’t know much about this man and how someone as intelligent as Joe remained homeless. She could trust him, but didn’t know if his mental condition altered his grasp on reality. Joe captured her gaze and held it. “For Hawthorne’s sake. For your friends Kiley and Scott. We’ve gotta combine what we know.” “Why?” “Because when those bastards started shooting at us, I vowed something would be done. I’ve almost died more than once in my lifetime, and if it was just me lying in this hospital, I wouldn’t give a horse’s ass. But Hawthorne is in this place. He needs our help.” Joe struggled to sit upright, wincing as he shifted. Although Tammy didn’t want to use her abilities, she knew that for Hawthorne, she’d eat razor blades. The realization disturbed her on a deep level. Whether she’d wanted to admit it or not, her feelings for Hawthorne had grown far more complex than she’d realized. “The police won’t necessarily believe us if we tell them something extraordinary and we can’t explain how we got the information. Psychic abilities aren’t going to cut it,” She said. “You saying I shouldn’t tell them all I know because I can smell a jerk a half-mile away?” “No. I—” She cut herself off. How could she help her friends if she didn’t try every avenue? How could she live with herself if she didn’t use extraordinary means? “We can start by telling the police what you meant to tell them before the accident.” A sigh issued from his lips. “I never forget a face.” He snorted a laugh. “But I don’t know who ran us off the road and shot at us.” “You don’t think it was the same person?” He shook his head. “I don’t think so. Besides, it might have been more than one person. What do you say? We’ll close our eyes and find out who they are. Close our eyes and maybe the answer will come.” 230

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Tammy nodded. Her head pounded with the beginnings of a headache, and her eyes stung from holding back tears all afternoon. His expression eased into resignation as she closed her eyes and prepared to see the colors. “Bring it on,” Joe said. “Bring it on.”

***** Light flickered over Kiley’s closed eyelids, and she flinched as dull pain throbbed through her temples. Oh, God. What happened? “Stop,” she whispered, talking to the pain. Clearing her throat, she tested her voice again and a dry croak issued from her throat. So thirsty. Cold seeped into her limbs and she shuddered. She tried to move, but her arms wouldn’t budge. Weak and confused, she tried to shift her legs and discovered they felt like lead tree trunks. Heavy. Listless. Paralyzed. Am I paralyzed? Kiley’s thoughts ran disjointed, and she couldn’t attach a single emotion to her state. Instead, everything seemed foggy and inconsequential. Sure, she questioned what had happened, but in the end, it didn’t seem to matter. Except for pain. Pain could get the hell out and stay out. Sleep. Sleep. Go back to sleep. She almost sank into blissful oblivion when she heard a door creak open and cool air rushed over her. Footsteps shuffled, then the sound of the door closing. Kiley licked her lips, and her mouth tasted desert dry. Swallowing hard, she waited. A cool palm pressed against her cheek. “Wake up, Kiley.” The voice didn’t reassure her. Sarcasm laced the deep, male tones. She wouldn’t respond. Not yet. Who was her captor? Jackson Cole? Thorson? Someone else she didn’t even know? “Kiley, I know you’re awake. Open your eyes or there will be consequences.” Not eager for penalties, she forced her eyes open. To her surprise, she could see clearly, and found herself staring into Gregory Thorson’s face. He certainly isn’t as handsome as his old pictures. She giggled, unable to control her reaction. His stern expression changed to an indulgent smile. “You find this situation amusing, my dear? We’ll see how long that lasts.” Thorson’s lined face contorted into a devilish ogre. For a terrifying second Kiley’s heart lurched. Then the hideous image changed back to human. Drugs. Has to be drugs or something. I’ve never seen anyone change like that before. Evil etched in perfection. Handsome gone sour.

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Moistening her lips again, she tried her voice. “You…won’t…get…away with…the…this.” His grin widened. “I’ll get away with it because I’ve got time, luck and McNicol on my side.” “Who?” “You know him as Jackson Cole. His real name is Jackson McNicol. Also goes by the name of Cole Arna.” “That bastard.” He chuckled. “That he is, my dear. That he is. You didn’t think he’d use his real name when he contacted you at the magazine, did you, sweet pea?” The silly endearment irritated her almost as much as the tolerance in his voice. “I’m not your sweet pea.” “You are if I say you are.” She wrenched at the bonds that held her, and her hands cramped. Kiley moaned, the pain escaping her lips before she could hold it back. Then it became clear. Her arms were tied, then held immobile by ropes that stretched between the bedposts like she participated in a bondage game. As she tried to pull her legs up, tingles shot through her ankles all the way to her hips. “That bastard hurt my friend,” she managed to say. Thorson shoved his hands into his pants pockets. His tie, a ghastly paisley concoction of yellow, red and pink, seemed to scream profanity at her. She closed her eyes. He cleared his throat. “Well, he’s good at it. That’s why I hired him. He wanted to take out your family and your lover today, but didn’t have to. You made it so easy for him. I think that disappointed him.” Another involuntary shiver racked her frame. She knew Thorson told the truth. McNicol would have finished everyone off…maybe. Something told her Scott would have kept her safe. If only she hadn’t been so damned foolish and left him. “Why am I here?” she asked. “I think you know why.” “All I know is that you’ve been trying to hurt my uncle for a long time.” She didn’t want to tell him she knew he’d committed several murders. If she hoped to survive, she might want to keep those juicy facts to herself. “Why do you keep on coming back for more?” Thorson reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a pocketknife. Shivers ran over her skin. “I think you give me too much credit, Kiley. Your uncle has done plenty to hurt himself over the years. He didn’t need me to help him along.” He opened the knife. “In fact, I think you could say he’s responsible for all that’s happened to you since. And your mother is responsible for a lot of heartache, don’t you think? Your real mother.” 232

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Memory rushed back. “I already know about her.” His brows twitched and he put his index finger to his mouth, and then slid his hand up until his palm rested on his cheek. A bad imitation of Jack Benny, apparently. “So, she spilled the beans. Beautiful. No wonder it was so easy to get you. Your mother drove you out of the house.” Kiley didn’t plan on supplying him more ammunition. She switched tactics, aware such a move might mean serious consequences if Thorson became pissed. What choice, at this point, did she have? “Barclay. You used him to get to me—” “Hah! Barclay didn’t need any urging. He saw you first, and it’s entirely coincidence that I knew him and made suggestions to him. He didn’t know that money would come along with the pleasure he planned to have with you.” “What?” she asked, her throat aching. Thorson walked around the side of the bed, his steps clicking on a hard wood floor. “Didn’t Reggie tell you that? Little Barclay might have wanted you, but he thought playing with you would be far more fun. Originally, he was going to marry you for your money, but then his little psychosis took over. Kind of put a wrench in things. But I used his illness. When I found out—” “How could you know? You were in prison!” He laughed. “Don’t be dense. I had contacts on the outside. Just like I have contacts on the inside now that I’m out.” He took the knife and flashed out with a quick movement. Kiley jumped, but held back a whimper of fear. Seconds later he cut through the ropes holding her arms to the bedpost. She lowered her arms, flinching as blood rushed back. She flexed her fingers. “Why are you doing this?” Kiley wished she could rub her raw wrists and ankles. “Why didn’t you just kill me when you had a chance?” One of his thin brows tweaked upward. “Because that would be messy, and I like the chase.” Hysterical laughter almost left her throat. The man sounded cultured and pleasant. In a casual meeting, most individuals wouldn’t guess that a heartless killer lurked beneath his façade. Thorson’s eyes widened and he smiled. “You really are smarter than you look my dear. By the way, I didn’t kill your adoptive mother Elaine. That was an accident. You can’t blame that one on me.” Anger surged and she almost exploded in hatred. In truth, if she could have killed him with her bare hands, she might have done it and felt no remorse. McNicol might be a homicidal maniac, but Thorson had also destroyed dozens of lives with impunity. He shook his head and dropped his hands to his sides. “Too bad McNicol fouled up the fire. I can see now he was right.” Kiley’s throat ached terribly, and she realized it was from trying to restrain tears. “About what?” 233

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“I should have let him kill you the first chance he had. Instead I let him play his games.” He shook his head again and put his hands behind his back. “He’s a sadist.” “Why am I not surprised?” she asked automatically. Another smile flirted with Thorson’s lips but never made it to full bloom. “He’s too much like Barclay, I’m afraid. Far too much.” He rubbed his hand over his chin. “Then again, McNicol has no restraint. At least Barclay had style. Finesse.” His casual stance changed as he leaned over her bed. “I seem to attract those types, you know.” Thorson’s voice held no emotion other than faint amusement, and she knew then she couldn’t reason with him. Long ago, very long ago, he’d jumped off the cliff and sanity would never return. Must keep him talking. “How did McNicol get into the complex without my uncle’s security finding him?” Thorson grabbed the single ladder-back chair in the room and sat down. Good. She had him for the long haul. Maybe. “You’re certainly full of questions.” “Who did the number on Hawthorne and Joe?” she fired at him. “One issue at a time, dear.” “I deserve to know what this crap is all about. Tell me.” When he tensed up, she wondered if she pushed him too far. Then, something deep inside her warmed, giving her a blanket of unusual security. She needed to keep at him. Keep at him until help arrived. Thorson crossed his legs. “McNicol had a very short and intriguing stint in the military and wanted to get into that Special Forces crap. You know, covert operations?” Impatient, she said, “Yeah, I know what it is.” “When his psychological profile said he wasn’t mentally fit, they refused him the training and eventually tossed him out of the military.” “Then he came to work for you?” “Oh, no. He’s been doing his forte as a hit man for a few years now. Guess it’s always been in his blood.” Anger filled her core again. “Right. He’s probably been killing animals since he was a little kid.” Thorson laughed, lines forming at the side of his mouth. “Kiley, your sense of humor is quite remarkable. Too bad you and I didn’t meet under different circumstances.” She started to speak, but he put his index finger to his lips. “Uh-uh! Don’t say it.” He looked every bit as if he planned to drink tea and chat about inconsequential matters. “Lucky for me McNicol fell in with the right crowd and they told him about me. They saw his potential.”

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Kiley had never believed a person’s blood really could turn to ice, but at that moment the chill in her veins made her insides quake. How much longer could she hold back the shakes? What was wrong? Lack of food? Drugs? Fear. No, she couldn’t give in to that. Fear would kill her. “You’re awfully quiet, my dear. Did I say something to upset you?” Kiley kept a straight face. “No. Please continue.” “That’s all there is to tell. McNicol signed on with me. At first I hired him to harass your uncle by harassing you. But then I saw how much more fun I could have scaring you senseless and perhaps even killing you in the process. I decided I didn’t need to control McNicol.” He leaned forward, his narrow face sharp and harsh in the fluorescent lighting. “I found the more he acted like a crazy man, the more I liked him.” How ironic. The nutty man thought McNicol crazy. She wanted to tell Thorson he’d jettisoned his mind long ago, but decided it wouldn’t help her situation. Thorson started toward the door, apparently finished talking. She had to keep him busy, make sure Scott would have time to find her. “Was it McNicol who tried to kill Hawthorne and Joe Cartolli?” Kiley asked. Cold, calculating eyes assessed her. “I had other help. Surely you don’t think McNicol is my only resource?” He sounded so condescending she wanted to kick in his teeth. She barely managed to hold back a stream of foul descriptors for the man in front of her. “Hardly.” Laughter burst from Thorson’s lips, deep and genuine. Lines formed around his eyes as he smiled. “You remind me of one of those lap dogs my mother used to lavish all her love upon. Mouthy as hell.” He shifted from one foot to the other and crossed his arms. “But I don’t think you’re as stupid as those fur balls.” Thorson shrugged. “I can’t say as much for that muscle-bound idiot boyfriend of yours.” Before she could speak, he cut the ropes that held her ankles together. Kiley welcomed the ache as she flexed her knees. If she could somehow overpower this man, she might escape. But then there was Jackson Cole…McNicol. That animal would be a different shade altogether. Keep Thorson talking. Need more time. His eyes seemed almost silver in the light’s harsh glare. “You know, I think it just might be fun watching McNicol have his way with you. Or whatever it is he plans to do.” Sadistic creep, she wanted to yell. Another irony rushed to mind. Again she found herself trapped in a hellhole with a man who wanted to torture her. She could curl up and wait for fate to sketch her last few moments. Instead, a plan formed in her head. If Scott couldn’t reach her in time, she had to rely on her own resources. If she had to die, she’d do it on her terms. 235

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“When will McNicol be here?” she asked calmly. His mouth twitched. “Why?” “Wouldn’t you like to have some fun before he gets here? I mean if I’m going to die, I might as well have some excitement first, don’t you think?”

***** Scott found all three security men lying dead in various places around the compound. That still left Douglas and Bartles missing. Someone had cut through the security fence after disabling the alarms, then slipped through and taken out the three guards one by one with a single shot to the head. More than anything, his heart pounded and his gut clenched in a clear-cut, hearttwisting fear for Kiley. An ugly suspicion formed in his mind. He called Mrs. Taggert’s cell phone and alerted her to the situation. “Douglas and Bartles are probably missing because they’re the ones who either took Kiley, or they cut the fence to allow someone else inside. They might have killed the other guards too. I’m going after Kiley,” Scott said into the phone as he ran toward the house. “I’ll keep in contact.” “Don’t go off half-cocked.” Mrs. Taggert’s voice shook with emotion. “Kiley needs us to have a cool head.” “That’s not good enough. You know whoever is with Thorson in this plan is a sick bastard. You know what he’ll do to Kiley.” His heart pounded hard and his head ached. “It’s up to us to find her quickly. I’ll need a car. Chapman has a few in the garage. I’ll need the fastest one he’s got.” “Just a minute.” She turned away for a moment, and within seconds returned. “The Porsche. He says you can have that. He’s got the keys right here.” Scott shut the flip phone. He rushed through the compound and on the way saw Rommel lying wounded near some bushes near the house. Grazed by a gunshot, the Shepherd had lost blood. Kiley, though, came uppermost in Scott’s mind, and he barely stopped to look at the dog. He rushed through the back door and roared Chapman’s name. “In here,” Mrs. Taggert said from the kitchen. “We just got a call from Tammy. Joe Cartolli gave a description to the police of the man he saw in the parking garage. Tammy also said that other henchmen working for Thorson shot at Hawthorne and Joe.” “How did the henchmen know where Hawthorne and Joe would be?” “I don’t know. Tammy also said that Joe told her Kiley needs you. She’s in grave danger and that Thorson has her at a hidden location.”

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He gritted his teeth then cursed. “Where?” “He’s not certain, yet, but he’s working on it.” Mrs. Taggert shrugged. “Tammy said Joe knows a lot of things, and that you should to trust him. I think she meant he knows by some psychic means.” Her mouth turned down, alarm showing clearly in her eyes. “Could he be right? Do you trust Joe?” Chapman walked into the room, pallid and frightened. Scott glared then answered Mrs. Taggert’s question. “If Hawthorne trusts Joe, I trust him. Now I need those Porsche keys.” Chapman reached in his pocket and tossed Scott the keys. Seconds later Scott headed out the door toward the garages. As he jogged toward his goal, he wondered about Joe’s certainty. Scott’s practical bent wanted to rebel against the idea that the man could know anything through psychic means. But he didn’t have time for hesitation. God, if Thorson hurt Kiley in any way— Suddenly his knees felt like jelly. Not good. Not good. He needed all his wits about him. For the first time in a long time, tears surged into Scott’s eyes. He’d never told Kiley he loved her. Hell, he was crazy in love with her.

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Chapter Twenty-Four Thorson strode toward Kiley, and she braced herself. Seconds later, as he sat on the edge of the bed, she shivered in revulsion. By the calculating grin on his face, she knew what he had in mind. If she could just get him to remove the bonds from her wrists… “I imagined you weren’t as prissy as your image,” Thorson said. She would have laughed if she had humor to spare. “I’m a surprise package. You have to unwrap me.” The words sounded corny to her, but he didn’t seem to care. He licked his lips, and his nostrils flared. “I can almost smell it on you.” He leaned forward, and before she could make more than a muffled protest, Thorson’s mouth covered hers. Kiley almost gagged, but forced herself to respond to his aggressive kiss. His tongue stabbed into her mouth, and as she struggled to keep back a wave of revulsion, she strained toward him. Let the prick think she wanted him. With equal aggression, she kissed him back, hoping his lust would take him off guard. When he drew back more than a minute later, his chest heaved and his breath came in gasps. “God almighty. You’re hot. Very hot. So you like to be tied up when you do it?” “No,” she said in a rush. “Untie me completely so I can touch you.” “Oh, no. You don’t think I’m that stupid, do you, sweet pea?” Panic thrummed through her veins. Heaven help her, she’d gotten herself into a freaking pickle now. Thorson started to lean toward her, but his cell phone startled them both. He stood and retrieved the phone from inside his jacket. “Yeah, what is it?” Immediately his expression changed from half interested to angry. “What? When? I’ll be right there. Don’t let the bastards say anything before I get there. They’re so stupid they’re likely to tell them the whole operation.” Closing the phone, he eased down next to Kiley. His thunderous expression made her heart skip, then thump into a frightened gallop. “Seems like the police have picked up two of my men. We’ll have to leave this little symphony until later.” He stood and pulled out the knife. Thorson held it in his hand and contemplated her. “What should I do with you, little Kiley? Kill you now?” Reality sank in with vicious, razor-sharp teeth. Her plan hadn’t worked and he might kill her Instantly. Even her heart didn’t speed up this time. Instead, a quiver of resignation came to the fore. If she had to die, she did it knowing one thing.

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I love you, Scott. She wanted to say it aloud. Maybe if she spoke the words he’d somehow hear her. Please, please let him find me before this lunatic kills me! His teeth toyed with his lower lip, then he grinned. “No. I wouldn’t want to screw up McNicol’s fun. After all, it is his ultimate reward for capturing you.” Thorson made her sound like a prize cow. Like Barclay, he saw her as a weak possession. Something he could use then throw away after he’d had his fill. Strength pushed her acquiescence away. Like Barclay, Thorson would have a weakness. She would find it, even if it were the last thing she did. He reached out and started untying her hands. Thank you. Thank you. After he finished, she rubbed her aching wrists. Kiley’s shoulder muscles twitched and trembled. Apprehension played a part in her body’s reaction, and she wished more than ever Scott would find her and do it now. “It’s not like you can get out of here, my dear,” he said. He laughed, turned and opened the wood door. When he closed it, she finally inspected the room. Horror washed through her trembling limbs as she assessed her prison. She’d been lying on a double bed with brass bedposts and a wrinkled, old comforter that looked as if it hadn’t been washed in years. Next to the bed resided the single wooden chair Thorson had used. A copy of the Bible and a single Tiffany lamp sat on the opposite side of the bed from the chair. Thick dust covered the items. The rest of the chamber was essentially barren. She knew somehow that the single door on the opposite side of the room held a sink and toilet but no mirror or shower. Huge, with high ceilings and stone walls, the room resembled in almost every way the chamber Barclay had kept her in ten years ago. No, it didn’t resemble the room where Barclay had imprisoned her ten years ago. It was the same room.

***** The earth around Scott tilted as he drove the Porsche faster than he should. Trouble. Big trouble. Dizziness shook him and his stomach did a triple flip and landed with a bounce. “Fuck!” He muttered more obscenities as he slowed the car and took the next corner at a less furious pace. The miles to the hospital seemed to take forever. Fear cut a cruel path through him, speeding his breath and heart to proportions he couldn’t remember feeling before. Every muscle screamed as if he’d run miles.

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What the hell? Then it hit him. Adrenaline. A comedown from the terror when he’d first realized Thorson and his goon had snatched Kiley. He wished he had Hawthorne’s help on this. He trusted the man and knew they’d work well together. Instead, he’d need Joe’s help in obtaining more information on Kiley’s whereabouts. Once he reached the hospital, Scott made his way to Joe’s room and found him gone. Tammy came in seconds later, looking tired and worried. “Where’s Joe?” he asked without even saying hello. “I don’t know.” Her lips firmed as she looked around the room and then headed to the closet. She whipped open the door and Joe’s clothes hung in a neat row. “Well, if he left, he’s in an open-backed gown and giving the entire hospital a free glance at his backside.” Despite tension still marching through him, he smiled. “You think he just left?” She put her index finger to her chin for a moment and then snapped her fingers. “Hawthorne’s on the same floor. I was just there a short while ago. I’ll bet he’s with him.” He left the room before she could speak again. When he reached Hawthorne’s room and stepped inside, Scott realized Tammy had followed him. Hawthorne looked like death warmed over, but after surviving a gunshot and surgery Scott didn’t expect his friend to look anything else. “You look like hell,” Scott said to Hawthorne. “Thanks, Danger, but you’re not here to tell me how beautiful I am. Any news on Kiley?” “No. I was hoping Joe came in here.” “I’m here,” Joe said, appearing from the doorway, rolling along in a wheelchair. Tammy went to his side and put her hand on his shoulder. “You shouldn’t be here.” “I’ve got to be here, missy. I got to tell what I know.” “But we did the colors—” Joe waved his hand. “After you left to see Kyle, I smelled something else. Weirdest damn thing ever. I smelled cologne. Something spicy and hard.” Joe moved forward and stopped near Scott. “I know you’re worried about your woman, but she’s tough. If anybody can survive being around that prickweed, she can.” Scott looked down at Joe. “That’s why I came here. I heard a rumor you know where Kiley is. Why didn’t you tell the police?” The older man’s wrinkled face creased more as he frowned. “She’s all right for now.” Subtle anger slipped up Scott’s spine. “Why didn’t you tell the police?” “I didn’t know until a few minutes ago.”

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Scott waited, his patience as thin as paper. “You said something about cologne?” Joe’s face split into an unexpected grin. “I smelled it and I’d know it if I smelled it again.” “I need to understand how you know where Kiley is.” He dropped to one knee in front of the wheelchair and glared. “Tell me.” “After I told the police what I knew and Tammy here came to Hawthorne, I got a vision. Nope, not a vision exactly. It wasn’t what I could see. The smell. Lots of smells.” Scott stood, his endurance broken. “Either tell me what you know or stop wasting my time so I can find Kiley.” “Don’t push him,” Tammy said with an edge. Scott kept his gaze steady on Joe. Joe closed his eyes. His fingers gripped the arms of the wheel chair. “Give me a minute.” “I don’t have a minute.” “He’s right, Joe,” Hawthorne said, pulling himself into a sitting position then falling back with a grimace. Joe swayed in his chair. With a heavy, long sigh, he kept his eyes closed. A minute ticked by. First one, then two. Scott wanted to scream. “Meadow.” Joe’s eyes popped opened, then closed. “It was a meadow once, but then someone built a huge house on it. Smelled like flowers and weeds.” Joe shuddered, the ripple tracing along his limbs. “Joe?” Tammy moved from Hawthorne’s side to the wheel chair. Joe sniffed. “Sulfur. Once a volcano always a volcano.” Scott felt a rush of anger and confusion. “What?” Joe took a deep draught of air. “The man who took Kiley is evil. The place where he took her belonged to another tormentor.” “Thorson?” Hawthorne asked. Unenlightened, Scott wanted to grab Joe and shake the answers out of him. The older man twitched. “I smell sulfur on one man. There’s another that smells like rotten food. Garbage.” “Tell us the bottom line before we die of old age, Joe,” Hawthorne said. Joe proceeded. “I don’t know the men’s names. One was the asshole that hurt Susan.” “Jackson Cole,” Tammy said. Scott nodded. “Who is the other?” “The big man bought the house,” Joe said. “He took the house of her tormentor and now he’s turned into that tormentor.”

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Words tossed around in Scott’s head until he had a headache. “That’s about as clear as—” “She needs our help,” Tammy said, glaring at Scott, “and arguing isn’t going to help.” Hawthorne shifted on his bed and winced. “Obviously Thorson had Jackson Cole take Kiley from the complex.” Then it all came to Scott. He gave Joe, Hawthorne and Tammy a startled, but triumphant look. “I know where Thorson is keeping her.”

***** Kiley sat on the edge of the bed, certain either Thorson or McNicol would return any moment. Memories lashed at her, threatening to destroy any confidence she possessed. Shivering, Kiley stood and paced the room, from the nature print calendar on one wall, to the wood and iron door at the other end. She rubbed at her wrist, flinching when she reached a painful spot. She glanced at her wrists then came to a dead stop. Letting out a laugh, she noticed the bruising on her pale skin. Just like old times. When Barclay had trussed her up like a chicken, the same thing had happened. Her skin had bruised from the force. Pain. Disgust. All old emotions belonging to this room. She could practically smell the rage in the atmosphere. Old agony. Ancient and twisted needs etched into the stones. Kiley glanced around the gray stone, wondering if these walls could absorb— correction—had absorbed the ravages of those hours she’d spent as Barclay’s captive. “No,” she whispered, as if someone might hear. “I can’t let this get to me.” Chills dappled her skin, and she scanned the cavernous room for a blanket. Even Barclay had provided one all those years ago. “Sick bastard.” She rubbed her arms. Kiley couldn’t say for certain whether she meant Barclay or Thorson. “Just my luck every man I run into is demented.” Even Scott Danger. Why else would he put his life on the line every day guarding people? A weary smile curved her mouth. After he’d quit his job at Taggert Security Team, he could have walked away for good. After they’d made love, he could have told her he didn’t want her. Their physical connection had deepened his resolve to keep her safe. Keep her safe. Well, that had failed. Sharp despair almost reared up and nipped Kiley. As she shrugged, her shoulders ached. Everything hurt. She glanced around her prison, aware how ironic her situation seemed. What were the odds of a maniac kidnapping her twice and incarcerating her in the same dungeon? Not likely. How had Thorson acquired this cave? The property had passed to an uncle of Barclay’s after Barclay saw jail time.

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This gave her a wild idea. Kiley went to the calendar. Lifting the current year pages, she found what she’d suspected. Her mouth went dry. Thorson had left this room the same all right. He’d left the calendar from ten years ago. What if Thorson had killed Barclay’s uncle to obtain the property? Staring at the calendar, she shook her head. Thorson could have bought this house and contents without breaking a sweat. Gingerly, as if it might bite, she flipped the calendar to the dates she’d been held captive ten years ago. Her stomach did a pitch and roll. Penciled in on June 28 was the inscription Kiley escapes the big bad wolf. Turning away from Thorson’s obvious insanity, she paced. Maybe, just maybe, she could make an escape plan. No time to allow old memories to diminish her strength. She must live. To survive for Scott. And for her mother.

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Chapter Twenty-Five “I’m going with you.” Joe pushed himself out of the wheelchair without a waver. “No.” Scott couldn’t believe this old guy. He started away from the room, but Joe moved quickly, slamming his hand down on the door. “I’m going to help you get Kiley back.” Tammy stepped forward, her expression grim. “Joe, you can’t.” Hawthorne added in, “Joe, I know how you feel, but—” “No, you don’t.” Joe kept his hand on the door. His glance took them all in, and Scott saw a wisdom and clarity shining from the older man’s eyes. “She’s a good woman and a good friend. I’d do the same for any of you.” “We’re wasting precious time,” Scott said. “You think I’ll get in the way?” Joe asked. Scott figured the man would be a liability. Unless, of course… “You were in Vietnam?” Joe nodded, a slight smile curving his lips. “Damn straight. Army Special Forces.” “Hooah,” Hawthorne said, giving the Army acknowledgement, but without the usual enthusiasm. “Speak of the devil,” Tammy said. “Scott was in Army Special Forces.” Joe gave Scott a thorough look-over, as if assessing troops. “I know. You have that look about you. And the scent.” “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not.” What bothered Scott was that he almost understood the man. Joe took his hand from the door and squeezed Scott’s shoulder. “I may be rusty, but I’m not dead yet.” Scott’s trepidation must have shown on his face, because Joe continued. “Kiley’s not the only reason I want these rat bastards.” He dropped his hand from Scott’s shoulder and matched him stare for hard stare. “My little daughter…the one I never got to see.” He swallowed hard. “She was taken by men like this. Taken from her mother when she was just sixteen. Made into one of them. She’s serving time in prison for murder. Hard time.” “Joe,” Tammy whispered, and Scott saw tears brim in her eyes. “How awful. I’m so sorry.” Scott could see from the intensity in Joe’s eyes that there was more to the tale. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the bitter end. “Men like these pigs don’t deserve mercy. They didn’t show mercy to my wife when they took little Christina away. Some say my exwife is a raving loony. Kind of 244

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like some say I am. But I think they just broke her heart. They just broke it like a mirror and stepped on it and crushed it.” A lump the size of a boulder grew in Scott’s throat, and he took a deep breath to relieve the pressure. “Okay, Joe. You’re in.” Joe checked himself out of the hospital and Scott felt glad to have this man beside him. Maybe Joe wasn’t so different. Homeless and a little eccentric, but perhaps he knew more and saw more than anyone gave him credit. Coordinating a task force to locate a missing person normally required cooperation from the police. Scott knew that would take too much time. So when he headed out to the car with Old Joe by his side, he knew what they planned wouldn’t have police sanction and that could turn hazardous. At this point he didn’t care. Scott urged his car over the speed limit, hoping a cop wouldn’t nail him to the wall. He glanced at the mountains to the west. Approaching evening filled the sky with orange-bottomed clouds that towered into the heavens until they reached a purple hue high in the atmosphere. “It’ll be dark soon,” Joe said, as if he’d read Scott’s mind. “It will make things difficult for us.” “For the rat bastards?” “Them too. We can use the dark, though, if we play this right.” As they sped along in the car, Joe looked down at his hopeless clothes and said, “You think this getup will throw them off?” Scott smiled grimly, but kept his attention on the road. “I think they’ll believe you’re a destitute man.” Joe huffed. “Destitute. Is that one of those popular names?” “Popular?” “Yeah, you know. The ones people are always using to try and make things sound better than they are.” “Euphemism?” “Uh, no, I don’t think that’s it either.” Scott suddenly understood. “You mean politically correct?” Joe smacked his hand on his bony knee. “That’s it!” If Scott had any humor left, he might have laughed, but worry slashed through him like a scimitar, sharp and deadly to his soul. “They won’t expect to see a homeless man way out in the middle of the country.” Folding his hands in a demure pose, Joe said, “Now that’s damn clever. Can’t wait to start.” “You’ve got a plan?” “A battle plan. Includes kicking some hairy assholes into the next century.” Scott knew Joe meant business. “You going to share the plan with me?” 245

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With a nod, Joe gave him the particulars, and Scott knew he’d picked the right partner for the job.

***** There was only one thing Kiley could do. At least only one idea came to mind when she glanced at the Tiffany lamp glowing on the bed stand. She unplugged it, sending the room into blackness darker than anything she remembered. Like a cold, unforgiving cave, it turned sinister. Demons from her past taunted her at the edges, accessing her most primal fears. Seconds obsessed her like centuries, and she shoved back the torment that threatened to send her pounding on the door and screaming for liberation. Pitch black crowded around her as she held the lamp and listened. Silence stretched, and she wondered if this was what some sensory-deprived people experienced. Ebony surrounding her reached out like a black hole in space, and she clutched the lamp tighter. Cold metal under her hands and the sound of her breathing penetrated her senses. Her heart thundered, and she wondered how long she’d wait in the darkness before Thorson or McNicol paid a visit. She’d studied the room earlier, assuring she knew how far it was from the bed to the door. Just as she had ten years ago. Maybe it was folly to think she could accomplish a getaway as she had back then. What other choice did she have? A noise outside her prison door alerted Kiley. Right before the door started to open, she knew what she must do. The idea made her stomach roll, but she couldn’t think of an alternative. She headed for the door, testing the walls with her touch so she knew where to stand. If she didn’t position correctly, when the door came open it would hit her. Seconds later the door creaked, and a shaft of light widened as it flooded the floor. “Kiley?” Thorson’s voice came soft but as noxious as poison. “Come out, come out, wherever you are. I promise I won’t hurt you.” She tightened her grip on the lamp, her pulse throbbing in her ears, her heart banging so loud she wondered that it didn’t give her away. Inside her fury pumped, surging through her veins with a hot, almost uncontrollable force. If she had to kill him to escape, she would. No time to think. No time to show clemency. When Thorson stepped into the room she let ten more years of rage explode. Kiley jumped forward and brought the lamp down on his head as hard as she could, hoping she cracked his skull. The Tiffany splintered as he grunted with pain. Thorson slumped forward with a gasp. She couldn’t see his face, though part of her wished she could view his agony. Blood stained his light hair, illuminated by the sliver of light coming from outside. Thorson fell to the floor with a groan. Without hesitation, she dropped the lamp, flung herself out the door, and ran down the corridor. Blessed illumination spilled toward her, caused by a single bare bulb hanging from the rock roof enclosure.

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Cold air rushed at her from the opening above and lightning rumbled overhead. Outside night had descended. Steep and dangerous, the steps at the end of the corridor dripped with water. Heedless, she took to the stairs quickly. She slipped. Pain rocketed through both knees as they impacted against unforgiving stone. Whimpering, she dragged herself upward, practically on hands and knees. One step. Two steps. Three steps more. Rain splattered her in the face and blue flashes of lightning danced around her. A sharp crackle split the air, and she flinched. She’d reached the top when meaty hands yanked her the rest of the way out of the hole. She had only seconds to note the grimace of anger on McNicol’s face. She should have taken the splintered lamp with her. Naked aggression tightened his features into a hideous mask the light barely illuminated. A muffled shriek slipped past her lips and she tried to pull away. His grip bruised her biceps. Kiley reacted, stomping on his booted foot. Pain rammed through her ball and instep as he moved away and she hit a stone. Desperate, she stabbed at his eyes with her thumbs. As her fingers sank into the sockets, he howled and came up with his right fist. Pain impacted in her jaw as his fist made contact. Light flashed before her eyes, but whether from lightning or his punch, she didn’t know. Kiley’s eyes watered as she fell backwards and her body hit the earth. Her head thudded against something, and her senses swam as pain rapped against the inside of her skull. Expletives split McNicol’s lips, deep and guttural. Though she knew he approached, her limbs refused to obey. Maybe this time she failed. The thumping in her head turned to a sharp rat-a-tat-tat. Gunfire? McNicol loomed, a dark, sinister monster from a bad dream. Terror forced her leg up in a swift kick, aiming for his groin. She hit pay dirt. Crying out, McNicol fell on top of her. Pain burst through her body as his weight slammed onto her. She gasped for breath. Kiley tried with all her strength to shove him off. He rolled away, moaning. Frantic, she lunged to her hands and knees and crawled, putting speed into her motions. Kiley panted as she tried to pull air into starving lungs. Hurry. Hurry. He’s coming. McNicol growled and cursed, his animal noises sounding like a werewolf in pursuit. “Bitch! I’m gonna get you!” Thunder cut off the rest of his words as rain suddenly poured. Kiley tripped, then came to her feet. With limbs almost refusing to cooperate, she stumbled toward the bushes. She remembered enough about Barclay’s estate to give her a sense of place. Must hide. Must escape. 247

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Darkness obscured objects, clouds overhead keeping life-saving light from showing her the way. Relentless, she sped toward safety. Seconds behind her, McNicol spat more expletives. Kiley had only one other thought besides escape. Scott. Scott, where are you? Her feet slid on rain-slick soil. Ahead she saw the outline of Barclay’s house. She plunged toward the bushes at the edge of the huge structure. As pine needles stabbed her in the arm from a low hanging branch, she winced. Soaked to the bone, ready to collapse, she raced on, knowing the devil would find her any moment. Damn it, was she even heading in the right direction anymore? Kiley heard McNicol not far behind, and she forced a last burst of energy to the surface. “Stop, you bitch!” She wondered if anyone could hear his wild ranting. Surely the other guards…if there were others… The house remained black. Perhaps it was vacant and she had a chance— McNicol hit her legs, his heavy body ramming her into the ground as she bit the earth, facedown. Kiley gasped for breath. “I’ve got you now, you whore!” “Let her go or I’ll blow a hole clean through you.” The voice sounded too calm. Kiley didn’t even recognize it through the pins and needles of pain radiating through her spine and along her limbs. Fire penetrated her right side. Cold mud seeped into her clothing. Rain splattered the ground, sending splashes of water into her face. She couldn’t move. McNicol’s voice rasped, “Who the hell?” “Your worst freaking nightmare, sport. Now I got a gun pointed at your head. I can kill you from here without putting a dent in her. Sniper was my specialty.” She still didn’t recognize the voice. It wasn’t Scott. McNicol’s laugh vibrated through her, and she tried to shift him off. He mashed her face into the mud, and she could barely hold back a moan. “I’ll kill her,” McNicol said as Kiley sputtered and turned her head to the side. She clamped her eyes together, fright rippling up and down her body in great, shivering waves. Not now. She couldn’t die now before she told Scott how much she loved him. Not now. “Get off her, motherfucker, or I swear I’ll kill you.” Scott’s voice came out of nowhere. “Scott.” She barely gasped the word as some relief filled her. He is here. “I’m right here, honey. It’s going to be all right once I get this asshole off you.” 248

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“Why, if it isn’t your pretty boyfriend, Miss Chapman. Isn’t this a cozy set-up? Now he can watch you die.” McNicol eased upward slightly, his weight lifting from her torso. “Just in time for the show. And after I’m done killing you he’s next and then your little homeless friend too.” Now. Now’s the time, Kiley. Do it now. She rose with all her strength and reared backwards, bashing his nose. She heard a sickening crack and his entire weight lifted as he howled. One gun blast flung him onto his back and she heard him fall. Shaky with relief, she sobbed. Kiley struggled forward, crawling like a newborn babe for about a foot before she fell on her face again. Scott rushed to her. “Kiley!” She felt him touch her back and her head as if searching her for injury. “I’m…I’m all right.” “You’re hurt.” His voice ached with raw emotion. “Tell me where you’re hurt, honey.” “McNicol?” “He’s out of commission for now. Joe shot him.” Scott gently turned her over, and she winced. “Joe?” “I’m over here watching the rat bastard. Don’t want him to bleed to death. Want him to pay in court for what he’s done.” Tears surged into her eyes as Scott eased her into his arms. “I thought I wouldn’t live to tell you.” “Tell me what, sweetheart?” Scott cupped her face, holding her gently. “Something I should have said before.” His lips touched her forehead. She wished she could see Scott clearly. “I love you,” Kiley said. Seconds later, her world went dark.

***** When Kiley opened her eyes, she found a hospital room with two of the people she loved. Her uncle and her mother. They sat on either side of her bed, each holding her hand. Mrs. Taggert’s normally composed face had shown Kiley anger and hurt. The need for forgiveness. Now she looked worried out of her mind. “Mom,” Kiley whispered through dry lips. Mrs. Taggert smiled. “Oh, God. Thank God, you’re awake. It’s been hours and we were so worried.”

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Uncle Reginald squeezed Kiley’s left hand and grinned wider than she’d ever remembered seeing him smile. “You’re going to be all right. A concussion, some cuts and bruises. But other than that, you’re fine.” Her entire body throbbed, her head included. Yet she was alive, and that made the day excellent. She smiled and her mother released her hand. “We’re so glad you’re back with us, I can’t begin to say—” Kiley’s mother cut herself off. The tears came for real, running over her cheeks, and the sight of this formidable woman breaking down loosened Kiley’s last defense. As they hugged, Kiley sobbed for the lost years and the pain they’d both endured in the last few hours. Her uncle grabbed a handful of tissues and passed them around. Even his eyes looked puffy and red. Seemed there was more love in this room than she could have imagined. Except one thing was missing. The man she loved more than anything or anyone in the world. “Where’s Scott?” Kiley asked anxiously. Her mother gave her a wobbly grin. “Outside with a few of your friends. The doctor wouldn’t let them in. Only direct family members.” Uncle Reggie sighed. “I thought the hospital guards were going to have to throw Mr. Danger out on his ass when he became really insistent about seeing you. We managed to calm him down.” Mrs. Taggert gave him a weary look. “Of course he wants to be with her.” She glanced back at Kiley. “We told the doctor we’d keep him outside.” “Does this mean what I think it means?” Uncle Reginald asked. “Are you blind, Reggie?” Mrs. Taggert glared, her brows drawing down. “It’s as plain as the nose on a dog’s face.” Reginald glared back. “Well, I’m only ask—” “I want to see Scott.” Kiley’s voice silenced them both. They stared at her for a moment and then moved away from the bed. Her mother peeked out the door, and then said, “She’s awake and she wants to see you.” As her mother moved back from the door, Kiley’s heart leaped in anticipation. Even the pain in her body couldn’t stifle the excitement pinging inside her as Scott appeared at the doorway. She’d confessed her love for him, and now she could only hope he felt the same. Please let him feel the same. A huge grin parted his lips, and he walked in followed by Joe and Tammy. Kiley laughed. “This is quite a menagerie.”

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They surrounded her bed and started to talk at once. Joe kissed her forehead and Tammy pressed her arm gently, exclaiming her happiness. Scott pushed by and stood nearest, reaching for her right hand. “They’re unruly, don’t you think?” he asked, his voice soft and husky as he looked down at Kiley. “Very unruly. You might have to put them out,” Kiley said. His grin faded, but the glowing, passionate warmth in his eyes made her stomach tingle. Damn. If she wasn’t in this bed…if she didn’t have bruises and aches and— “Quiet, everyone,” her mother said. “You’ll give the girl a headache.” “As if she doesn’t already have one,” Joe said. Still dressed in his crummy duds, he looked as scruffy as ever. Yet she’d never seen a more beautiful sight. Even his special aroma, eau de stink, didn’t put her off. “Thank you, Joe,” she said. “For what, missy?” “For rescuing me. For shooting McNicol.” Then she remembered Joe’s words while he’d held a weapon on McNicol. “You were a sniper, Joe?” He nodded, his expression sobering. “Yeah. I’m not proud of what I’ve had to do, but I would have killed him for you, Kiley. I just put a dent in him. He’ll be in jail the rest of his life now the cops have their mitts on him.” Tears filled her eyes again. “You’re a wonder, Joe.” Joe’s mouth titled upward in a cocky smile as he said, “That’s what everyone tells me. Don’t know if I half believe it.” Scott clamped a hand over the man’s shoulder. “You’ll always have my gratitude. You know that. You saved Kiley’s life.” Joe shrugged. “This little lady isn’t half bad herself. Practically kicked the stuffing out of that McNicol slug.” A sickening thought launched into her mind. “What about Thorson?” “Skull fracture,” her mother said. “He’ll be out of it for some time, then he’s off to jail.” “He bought Barclay’s property, didn’t he? All this time he wanted to reenact Barclay kidnapping me,” Kiley said. “Unfortunately he did buy the property about six years ago. In some ways we’re lucky he took you to the same place,” her mother said. “Thorson didn’t really have McNicol under his thumb, did he?” Tammy asked, her eyes burning with anger. Scott frowned. “No.” Looking at her wonderful friends gave her a safe feeling, but she still needed answers. “How did you know where to find me?” Tammy smiled. “That’s a long story. Not one I think you need to hear right now.” 251

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“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you,” Scott said. “Let’s just say Tammy and Joe own some special talents.” Kiley heaved a sigh. “All right, then explain how McNicol got into Uncle’s estate grounds.” Scott brushed his fingers lightly over the top of her hand. She shivered as the pleasant sensation distracted her. Leave it up to this man to try to hold back. “Two guards went missing on the estate. They took out three of the other guards, then disabled the security system and cut the fence for McNicol. Then they split. They’d been paid for, lock, stock and barrel, by Thorson. Simple as that.” “I’m sorry, Kiley,” Uncle Reginald said as he stood at the foot of the bed. “It’s my fault.” Kiley waved a dismissing hand. “You couldn’t have known. None of this is your fault.” She saw uncertainty clouding his eyes, and knew that it would take time and healing to come to a new understanding with her uncle. “What about the two men who shot at Hawthorne and Joe?” Kiley asked. “Two of Thorson’s men,” Scott said. “Hawthorne wanted to come see you, but he’s still in his hospital bed. He sends his best,” Tammy said. “He’ll be all right?” Kiley asked. Tammy looked glowing, her heart-shaped face full of humor. “Absolutely. They’re releasing him in a couple of days.” Scott grinned at Tammy. “I suppose he’ll need a nurse to take care of him.” Tammy’s face pinked and she stiffened. “They didn’t say anything about home care.” “You could always make sure he flies right. Besides, he’ll need physical therapy,” Scott said, his gaze twinkling with mischief. “Danger, you are so—” Tammy started. “Ahem.” Kiley’s mother cleared her throat. “Let’s get out of here and give these two some privacy. I think it is getting a little stuffy in here, don’t you? Kiley needs her rest.” Joe winked as he nodded and turned with Tammy. “I’m not sure resting is what she’s got in mind.” He chuckled and followed Tammy, Mrs. Taggert and Uncle Reginald as they left. After the door swung closed with a loud snick, hospital sounds floated away. All Kiley could see was Scott. He looked tired, his hair loose around his shoulders and in a tangled mess. His jeans and shirt were smudged with dirt and blood.

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As they stared at each other, she realized that she’d never been absorbed in a man’s gaze like this. She didn’t want to be released as the warmth of his regard stole through her. “You feel all right?” he asked. “Sounds rather formal to me, Danger.” One masculine brow lifted. “Huh?” “If I remember right, I heard sweetheart and honey coming out of your mouth not so long ago. Those are pretty strong words, Mr. Danger.” “Scott,” he said. “What?” He leaned closer, sliding one hand over so that he gently cupped her uninjured side. His other hand stole up to her shoulder. Dipping his head, he came to within inches of tasting the sweet lips he’d thought he would never kiss again. “Call me Scott or else.” “What? You’ll kiss me?” she asked. He wanted to. Very badly. “No, honey, much more than that.” Kiley’s senses, deprived when she’d sat in the darkness of the cave, craved the sensual pleasures his voice promised. “Like what?” “You’re shameless.” “It’s one of the things you like about me.” Scott laughed, but then his gaze turned serious. “I thought I’d lost you. Now all I want to do is hold you, kiss you and have wild sex with you.” To her surprise, she saw his eyes glisten, as if he might cry. The sight made her gut clench and her heart lurch with love. “You can’t lose me. I’m far too annoying to get rid of.” He licked his lips. “I…when that bastard had you down on the ground…I almost died. I would have died if anything had happened to you. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before, Kiley.” Happiness prickled her like electricity. “I was so afraid. But I had to escape for you. To see you again. To tell you—” “I love you.” She stopped, stunned and happy at the same time. Uncertainty, though, made her continue. “I know that’s what I said. And it’s true, but if you don’t—” Scott’s mouth came down on hers, soft and lingering as he took his time. When he released her, he stayed close, barely parting their lips. “I’ve been aching to do that. I couldn’t wait until they left so I could tell you how I feel.” Kiley tangled her fingers in his long hair, glorying in the silky texture as it glided against her fingers. He smelled of aftershave and the grit of hard work. “Does all this sweet talk mean I’ll be seeing more of you?” 253

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He made a low sound in his throat and he took her mouth for long minutes, each deep thrust of his tongue reminding of the passion they’d already shared. “If I get my way, you’ll be seeing a lot of me for the next sixty years or so.” Anticipation tightened her muscles. “Sixty years?” “I love you,” he whispered, loving her again and again with little kisses across her forehead and cheeks and chin before brushing over her nose. “I love you so much I ache, and I want to share my life with you.” Kiley did cry then, the tears tumbling down. He had to kiss them away, but she didn’t mind that, either. “I can be hard to live with.” Scott shrugged. “So what? So am I.” He gave a small laugh, mirth turning his once somber gaze warm and content. “You’re the most stubborn, intelligent, courageous woman I’ve ever met. I wouldn’t have you any other way. And while I’ve got you in my arms I need an answer to one more question. Will you marry me?” Bliss darted through her, sharp and undeniable. “Yes, yes, yes, yes.” Like a man in love, he covered her mouth with his own and drank in her positive answer, gathering her as close as he dared without hurting her. Scott knew he’d lost control, and this time he didn’t care. He broke their kiss. “I haven’t been to the cabin yet, and when I go there next I want it to be for our honeymoon.” “Yes, yes, yes,” she whispered again. As Kiley cherished his embrace, she knew once and for all she’d shattered her nightmares by fighting her way out of danger. But now a new kind of Danger would keep her safe, holding her in his arms, night after night.

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About the Author Suspenseful, erotic, edgy, thrilling, romantic, adventurous. All these words are used to describe award-winning, best-selling novelist Denise A. Agnew’s novels. Romantic Times Magazine called her romantic suspense novels Dangerous Intentions and Treacherous Wishes “top-notch romantic suspense.” With paranormal, time travel, romantic comedy, contemporary, historical, erotica, and romantic suspense novels under her belt, she proves her gift for writing about a diverse range of subjects. (Writing tales that scare the reader is her ultimate thrill.) Denise’s inspiration for her novels comes from innumerable sources, but the fact she has lived in Colorado, Hawaii, and the United Kingdom has given her a lifetime of ideas. Her experiences with archaeology have crept into her work, as well as numerous travels throughout England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales. Denise currently lives in Arizona with her real life hero, her husband. Denise welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

Also by Denise A. Agnew By Honor Bound anthology The Dare Deep is the Night: Dark Fire Deep is the Night: Haunted Souls Deep is the Night: Night Watch Ellora’s Cavemen: Dreams of the Oasis II anthology Ellora’s Cavemen: Tales From the Temple IV anthology Jungle Fever Men To Die For anthology Special Agent Santa Special Investigations Agency: Impetuous Special Investigations Agency: Over the Line Special Investigations Agency: Primordial Special Investigations Agency: Shadows and Ruins Special Investigations Agency: Sins and Secrets Winter Warriors anthology

Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

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