Gabe's Prize

Gabe's Prize Rae Monet (c) 2005

Gabe's Prize Rae Monet Published 2005 ISBN 1-59578-093-9 Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2005, Rae Monet. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author. Manufactured in the United States of America Liquid Silver Books http://lsbooks.com Email: [email protected] Cover Art by Will Kramer This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

Chapter One “SWAT Leader One. Bravo Red, come in.” Gabe shifted his position for a better line of sight. The trees on the dirt hill made it difficult to see. “SWAT Leader, go,” he commanded. He shouldered his weapon and peered through his night scope. The target area was quiet, an eerie calm, nothing moving. No one would suspect two people had been killed there earlier that same day. Too many trees. I need to move. “I’m in position, ready for entry,” his sniper said. “Roger, Bravo Red, hold.” He wanted to keep Bravo Red high, in case the suspect appeared in the window. He had already given him leave to shoot any chance he got. Gabe keyed his radio and checked in with the rest of his team. They had staked out the shooter for hours. The call for his team came at nine a.m. It trailed to midnight now, and they still waited. The moon wasn’t their friend, shining large and bright, the last thing any SWAT team leader wanted on a mission. “Check in,” he said. He called out for checks every fifteen minutes, always needing to know where his team was located. It wouldn’t pay to make a simple mistake. “Bravo One, north side.” “Bravo Two, south side.” “Bravo Three, back.” “Bravo Four, with Seven, in back.” Gabe sighed and lowered his gun. “Bravo Five, with Eight, front.” “Bravo Six, with Nine, got your six.” Gabe wiped the sweat from around his eyes. He and the others were suited in their heavy camouflage battle dress uniforms with full gear, including their face hoods, helmets, bulletproof vests, flak jackets with additional trauma plates. Not the normal casual wear for summer in Idaho, with the evening temperature pushing 80 degrees. Gabe evaluated his options as he scratched an itch caused by the perspiration rolling down his cheek. He had sweated more than he could afford and was close to calling it and changing up. Soon his team would be ineffective. But switching teams in the middle of an operation caused people to get killed. All this drama over a lone shooter, holed up in the middle of a residential area, across from a school. The guy, in a shooting spree that lasted the day, had taken out one civilian and one cop. No hostages, as far as Gabe could tell. They had already thrown in the first contact phone. No response. He clenched his jaw. Time to make his move. “Bravo Red, stand by, stay high. Hold fire, I’m moving up. Bravos Four, Five, ready the gas. On my mark.” The next step, shoot in the tear gas and see if they could force him out. Worse case scenario—the team would need to break in. “Bravo Six, cover.” Knowing Six covered him gave Gabe the confidence to move. He shifted from behind the tree and inched his way toward the front door. A shot rang

out. Prepared to be a target, he hit the driveway and ducked behind the suspect’s car, then crawled up to the front, using the engine block as his shield. Adrenaline raced through him like currents of electricity. “This is the Boise Police,” he yelled, giving the sniper one more chance to surrender. “Drop your weapons and come out with your hands up.” The shooter answered with a single shot to the front of the vehicle. Gabe heard the ping against metal. Although his heart thudded in his chest, he kept his hands steady as he tugged the gas mask from a holder on his thigh. “Team, don masks. Ready entry, Four and Five. Go on, three, two, one… Go.” Gabe pulled on his mask and waited. The explosive canisters crashed through the house windows. Gabe counted the seconds, allowing the gas enough time to penetrate. When he reached a full minute, he leapt up, raced around the car and ran toward the front door in a zigzag motion. This part of the job he did without question, without thought, without fear. He had to. If he considered the danger, he would never do it. As he ran forward, his men flanked him. They took up positions around the door and lined up for entry, using the jambs as cover. Flashlights were attached to the top of everyone’s weapon; they were prepared for the unexpected. After a quick visual check, the rear man stepped forward, holding the battering ram the team had affectionately named Bertha. Slamming Bertha into the door, the big man crashed it open. Gabe ran in, his team after him. They needed to move quickly, taking advantage of the effects of the gas. Gabe went right toward the living room, his partner left and a third one of his men charged down the middle. Bingo, Gabe thought, sliding into the living room, shining the light ahead of him. The shooter, doubled over on the floor, his rifle clutched in his hands, was vomiting. As he looked up, saw Gabe, a handgun lifted in shaky fingers, the barrel weaving toward him. Shouldering his weapon, Gabe didn’t hesitate. Hesitation caused death. “Drop the weapon!” he screamed. The gun didn’t waver. The man was going to shoot. Gabe sucked in a breath, slowly released it and squeezed the trigger. His actions took a millisecond. The recoil told him his shot was true as the man went down with a grunt. Gabe rushed forward and kicked the rifle and gun away from the man’s fingers, out of reach. Damn, he thought as he bent down and checked his pulse. He felt a faint throb. The man was still alive. Barely. A shudder of relief passed through his bones. He hadn’t killed him outright. Gabe heard his men’s shouts as they cleared the remaining space. “CLEAR,” came from Gabe’s team. “Get a medic in here!” he shouted in response. As he straightened, the masked paramedic team member dropped down next to the man and worked on stabilizing him so he could be moved to the ambulance. The ambulance’s siren squealed as it drove up from around the corner, where it had been waiting. After he was cleared to be moved, two of Gabe’s other men stepped forward with a gurney and lifted the downed suspect.

A dark shroud dropped over Gabe’s soul. In the back of his mind, he realized the shot had been necessary, but it didn’t make pulling the trigger any easier. He was a Piikani Blackfoot Indian, trained in the ways of the buffalo and living in harmony with the elements of the earth and sun. Killing went against every vow he’d taken. Gabriel, the Angel of Mercy, that’s what his tribe had labeled him. He felt more like the Angel of Darkness now, but allowing this man to take the life of another was unacceptable. Shooting him was the payoff Gabe had to tolerate. The punishment would come later, in the dead of night, when his personal shields lowered. Running on automatic, Gabe double-checked the house was clear and headed outside, glad to take off his mask. The gas would make it difficult to breathe the air inside the house for thirty minutes, at least, and keep people out for hours. Cop cars lined the curb. He saw his chief’s familiar figure standing next to a blackand-white cruiser, a portable light illuminated the area. He swerved toward him. “Detective Blackhawk, nice work.” Gabe leaned against the cruiser and took off his gloves. Releasing the band from his hair, he attempted to pull out the snags. “Had to take him out.” He frowned toward Chief Armstrong. “Couldn’t be avoided,” Armstrong said, his voice emotionless. After untangling his hair, Gabe ran his hand through it. “Hate to do that.” Their eyes made contact and even in the moonlight he saw a flash of sympathy. “I know, I know. Turn in your rifle, get a replacement, you know the drill.” Armstrong patted Gabe’s arm, his brows meeting. “Sometimes, Blackhawk, your eyes scare me. They’re so…” Gabe shrugged. He knew what the Chief meant. He’d earned his nickname because of his eyes, a light green that appeared almost translucent in contrast to his jet-black hair and brown complexion, even in the dark of night, the contrast must have been chilling. When a Christian missionary at the reservation saw Gabe’s eyes, he called Gabe a product of the devil. Gabe’s mother stepped forward and proudly told him Gabe was the Angel of Mercy. “Call the DA about the shooting, debrief your team and get some rest. You guys did good today.” Armstrong gave him a final pat, and walked off. Gabe grabbed his helmet off the car. The paramedic team wheeled the subject past him. Gabe nodded at the paramedic and the uniformed cop with him. “He going to make it?” Gabe waited, wishing he didn’t care. “Nah. Probably for the better. He’d be going to jail for life anyway. He killed two people today, actually three. The woman he killed was pregnant. Let’s hope he saves the taxpayer money and moves on.” Gabe dropped his head back, looked at the moon before closing his eyes. He said a quick prayer for the soul of the lost child. Straightening, he sighed and squared his shoulders. He had a team to debrief, a statement to give, and a bunch of red tape to wade through as a result of the shooting. Especially if the man died. Then he planned to pass out before he had to go back on night shift. He rubbed the back of his neck when he felt this inkling, an unusual urge he hadn’t felt in a long time. He tamped down the feeling and ignored it.

He hoped that when sleep claimed him later on that night, he’d be exhausted enough that the nightmares would not. **** Sitting in his parked car and watching the lighted windows of the lab where he had worked the past month, Dane Riely took an unhurried sip of his coffee. He savored the flavor of the hazelnut latté. Everything was going well for him tonight. The coffee, his confidence the night shift was working in the lab, the slow anticipation, this was it… He sighed. All good things had to come to an end, and what those people were doing was wrong. Heart pounding, the wetness on his brow an indication of his fear, he pressed down on the send button of his cellular phone, triggered the remote device and detonated the bomb. Everyone in the lab was sent into oblivion. The explosion rocked his car like a small earthquake. He smiled. The relief he felt was welcomed, much easier than he thought, much easier. His tension calmed and he felt overwhelmed with happiness. He wiped the drop of sweat from his neck. Been a while since he felt anything close to an earthquake, a nice reminder he was in sunny California. Good. Now he was a killer. Now he would be noticed and his cause recognized. Finally, he was important. He tilted his coffee cup from side to side, mildly annoyed to find it empty. Hmmm, I need a refill. With a grin on his face, he tossed his laptop into the seat next to him, started the car and headed to the local coffee shop. Now, I’m in business.

Chapter Two Jo Clarin drew her Glock and followed her subject down the narrow alley. The buildings were so close together the dumpster almost blocked her way. She shimmied around it. Jo wrinkled her nose at the smell of aged urine. If Troy finds out what I’m doing, I’ll be in deep shit. “Dude, your husband would kill me if he knew you were out here.” Jim Ellis’ warning reinforced her fear. Jo spoke into her headset, her voice low. “Listen, I was simply working on paperwork when you called for backup. I am doing what I’m supposed to.” “That’s not going to matter to him.” Jo’s breath hissed through her teeth. She patted her stomach, an automatic gesture, and felt the smallest mound. Just eight weeks pregnant, she didn’t expect to show for another month or two. She knew her husband, Troy was right and she should stick to her desk, but… “One fugitive is all I ask. Then I swear I’ll go back to my desk. Besides, I’m here to take you guys to lunch.” “If word gets back to Troy, I’m not going to be the one talking to him.” Jim sounded scared. Jo smiled. Troy was a man even FBI agents didn’t want to mess with. A former pro NASCAR driver, he raced like a dream. But when he put the brakes on, look out. Movement made her shift her thoughts back to the situation. After he made his way out of the alley, her subject did a couple of funky steps then sprinted across the street to the park. Jo followed him. He must have made them. He was a wiry, twenty-three-yearold loser. He jogged holding his pants up, loose pants might be an appealing fashion statement, but didn’t work so well when you were on the run from the law. “I’ve got him goin’ into the park.” She spoke in her normal voice now that the subject was out of earshot. Someone walked by and looked at her funny but she ignored them and walked faster. “Give me your locations.” “This is Lion, I’m on the south side of the park.” She smiled, Randy “The Lion” Reinhart, one of her best men, was in heaven since Troy ordered her off the street. She tended to place him in the least dangerous positions. He had the most beautiful wife and child, and she didn’t want to deal with his wife’s wrath if something happened to him. “Dude, I’m on my way. Half a block out.” Jim said, and a wave of affection swept over Jo for her trusted number two guy. “Sandy, I’m on the west side,” she warned the newbie Sandy Krane. Just out of training, he grew cockier and more confident every day. Jo hated to see her new agents grow up and become terrible teens. “Zeik here, I’ve got your six.” Zeik responded to her call. Carl Zeik, her handsome college prep look-alike. He would stand out in this neighborhood like a shiny new Mercedes in a junkyard. Their target, James “The Mouse” Smith, had murdered one of his prostitutes in front of a key, credible witness; a fifteen-year old kid. A baby as far as Jo was concerned. A

run-away who became a victim of this predator. He fled from Oregon to his brother’s place in Oakland. In came her squad. Oregon had the warrant; she had the lead. And despite the baby growing in her stomach and her husband’s orders, she burned to clear the case. Smith strode toward the woods surrounding the children’s play yard of the park. Jo had enough of the cat and mouse game. Her men were coming at Smith from all sides. She didn’t want to get into a chase with him. If he didn’t kill her, Troy would. She’d rather see Smith go down for murder than Troy. “I’m moving in.” Jo jogged after him. “Shit, Dude.” She heard the stress in Jim’s voice and ignored him. As the fugitive squad leader, she knew when to take the subject. She wasn’t going to let a little thing like her pregnancy stop her from doing her job. “Smith,” she called, pointing her gun. “FBI. Freeze. Hands where I can see them. Do it now!” He skidded to a stop and dropped his head in surrender. Jo trained her gun and assumed her most menacing expression. “Turn around, slowly.” He pivoted. As Jo visually checked him for weapons, she heard a cell phone ring. Hers. Shit. “On the ground. Face down, arms out, legs spread.” Smith nodded, his arms trembling. She kept the Glock pointed steadily at his chest as he sunk to the ground and sprawled out. Good, she thought, he’s going to cooperate. She could always tell. Her phone continued to ring. She needed to answer it. If Troy was calling and she didn’t answer, he’d know something was up. As she approached Smith, she tapped the answer button on her headset. “Hello.” “Hi, babe.” She cleared her throat and changed her tone. “Hi, darlin’” Smith looked over his shoulder at her as if she’d changed species. “What are you doing?” Troy asked, the low timbre of his voice sending a thrill through her veins. She moved around behind him, watching closely for any movement. “Hold on a second, honey.” She reached down and hit the mute button, scowling at Smith. She put a knee in the small of his back, reached for his wrist and clicked the cuff around it. Drawing the arm back, she lifted her knee, pressed it into the palm then reached for the other. When he was secure, she clicked the mute button off. “Oh, I’m just messing around with the guys, you know, taking them out to lunch.” She grabbed the back of Smith’s hand in a pinch hold, bent his wrist and cuffed him with an efficiency that came from practice. Sandy came running up. She handed Smith over to him just as the rest of the guys arrived. “Right, guys, we’re going to lunch?” she asked as she pointed her finger at the phone and mouthed Troy. “Yeah, oh right, yeah, uh-huh,” they answered in unison.

Jo’s armpits prickled with sweat. If Troy found out what she was doing, she might as well hand in her leave of absence request, damn it. “You feeling okay, babe? You barfing anymore?” She placed her hand on her stomach. “Not since this morning. I’m fine, no worries.” In Sandy’s hold, Smith opened his mouth, probably to proclaim his innocence or ask for a lawyer. Jo held up one finger and pointed to him, then made a slashing motion across her neck. His mouth snapped shut. “You’re not out in the field, are you?” Troy asked. Jo slid a hand over her brow to wipe the perspiration away. She hated to lie to Troy, but if he knew how dangerous her job really was, he’d blow a gasket. “I have to be in the field to go to lunch, don’t I?” She pointed to Sandy and Jim and made shooing motions with her hands. They nodded and dragged Smith away. “Be careful.” Troy’s voice darkened with concern. “I know what you’re like. You’ll get involved in something you shouldn’t.” Jo kept her mouth shut. If he only knew. “I’ll make something neutral for dinner tonight, chicken and rice, okay. I love you, babe.” Jo smiled. “I love you too, honey.” She hung up. Lion and Zeik rolled their eyes in unison. She made a face. They always seemed stunned, seeing her softer side, as if they thought she took her tough FBI Fugitive Agent act to bed. Lion and Zeik pitched their voices high and chanted, “I love you, I love you.” She punched both of them in the biceps. They bent over laughing. Before she could stomp away from her juvenile team members, her FBI cellular rang. She glanced at the caller ID. It was her boss. “Hey, Jack.” Although she made her voice brisk, she tensed. Like Troy, Jack had been attempting to tie her to the desk. “Tell me you’re not in the field, Agent Clarin.” Jo cringed, looked at the boys and put a finger to her lips. “Going to lunch, boss, that’s all.” A growl from the other end was not a good response in her mind. “I’m still waiting on your paperwork from the shooting.” Jo clenched her jaw. Frustration didn’t begin to explain the way she felt about paperwork. It was like pestilence or, worse, taxes. “I’m working on it as we speak.” “It’s been almost six months.” He sounded grouchier than a bear awakened from its winter nap. “Get it done so I can get OPR off my ass.” Jo sighed. He wasn’t going to let her out of this one. Crap. “Yes, sir.” “And, Clarin?” “Yes?” Jo stomped toward the cars, taking her frustration out on the grass. “I need you to assist Agent Voker on a fugitive tracked to a former girlfriend in Boise. Fix her up with the connections you made working on Troy’s case. She’s tracking the DT Bomber.” Information flipped through Jo’s mind like a high-speed Rolodex. The case was about a crazed Anti-Abortion activist who set a bomb in the lab of a federally funded

facility doing work with an abortion clinic. Six people working the night shift had been killed. Nasty business. “No problem, I’ll hook her up with my friend, Gabe Blackhawk.” She tilted her head, contemplating the possibilities. Then she smiled. Boy, if she could be a fly on the wall when Kally was hit with Gabe. He would be like the most beautifully wrapped present under the Christmas tree. The one you wanted to open first but the family always makes you wait. “I’ll get to her after lunch. Out.” She disconnected the call, and imagined Jack glaring at the phone as if blaming it for her abrupt dismissal. She couldn’t help needling her boss. Deep down he liked her, she knew. Like a cat, he didn’t want to show his soft underbelly. Jo rubbed her hands together, grinning. Hmmm, Gabe and Kally. Gabe was single and unattached and so was Kally. Oooh, she was going to have some fun.

Chapter Three Gabe swayed back and forth, humming the chant of his people. The soothing mantras absorbed his guilt and appeased his spirit. The sun was his friend and he held his face up to the warmth. “Mother of the earth, daughter of the sun, heal me,” he asked, raising his hands toward the blue sky. Suddenly the light disappeared and a void of black swallowed the sun. Gabe blinked and tensed, anticipating what would happen next. A ghostlike figure began floating about his body, and then settled in front of him. It was the soul of the man he had killed earlier that day. The man pushed his hand into Gabe’s chest and pulled. He gasped, his heart frozen in his chest… Brrring. Gabe’s heart thumped back to life. He jackknifed up, swinging his legs out of bed. His cell buzzed on the nightstand. He rubbed his chest, feeling the slickness of sweat, the after effects of the nightmare. Beneath his palm, his heart pounded. He was fine, he told himself, fine, but maybe it was time for a vacation. These nightmares were getting to him. He could feel the stress pressing down on his consciousness, along with a craving he hadn’t felt in near ten years. Stop it, he counseled himself as he reached for the phone. “Blackhawk,” he said his voice thick with sleep. “Detective Blackhawk.” You wouldn’t be sleeping in the middle of the day would you?” Special Agent Jo Clarin’s voice soothed him as if an angel had telephoned at just the right moment. Gabe made his way to the bathroom and grabbed a towel to dab at the sweat that covered his body. “Jo, good to hear your voice. Yeah, got nights this week. How are you? Fat yet?” “You dog. I’m going to tell Troy you said that.” He shrugged. “Tell him I’d like to see him in the Brickyard 400 NASCAR race next weekend.” She laughed. Gabe grinned. NASCAR legend Troy Vinstonie and FBI Special Agent Jo Clarin were a striking couple, oddly made for each other. He had assisted with Troy’s kidnapping case six months earlier and had formed a bond with the couple. A friendship formed in tragedy, strong and unbreakable. “Nah, he’s working with some new kids. Have a couple new abuse cases. He won’t be racing again until they’re settled in.” Gabe frowned. “I’m sorry to hear it.” Jo’s sigh carried a world of tenderness. “Yeah, I know. He’s so good with the new kids.” Gabe shook his head. Jo was a straight shooter, almost crass at times, but when she spoke about her husband, she turned to mush. “Yep, Troy is definitely an offering from the gods, to the kids and to you.” Jo chuckled. “Enough of this chitchat; I have a favor to ask.” Leaning over the sink, Gabe cradled the phone against his shoulder as he washed his face. “Anything for you, Jo, you know that.” “This is a biggie.”

Gabe wiped his face on a hand towel. “They all are.” “Yeah, that’s true. Listen, one of our Domestic Terrorism agents has tracked a crazed anti-abortion bomber to Boise. She needs help. I’m going to talk to her this afternoon. If you’re game, I’ll have her hook up with you directly. You know the area and she’s going to need help.” Gabe straightened and threw the towel on the sink. He stared at himself in the mirror. His ice green eyes were red-rimmed, attesting to his lack of sleep. He had night shift this week, on the beat with the gang squad. He tried to do it once every month to keep up with local activities. “Of course, I’ll help her.” For Jo, he’d add to his load. “Good, I’ll e-mail you her info. Her name is Kally Voker. I’ll let you know when she’s flying in.” Gabe headed into the living room and flopped onto the couch. “I’ll pick her up at the airport. “You got it, oh, and, Gabe… I owe you” Gabe stretched out his long frame and grabbed the remote. He wasn’t going to get any more sleep. Later he would take a run and have a work out to cleanse the dream from his mind. Right now, he was picturing a fifty-year old, crotchety, pain in the ass Federal agent. The type that was ‘by the book’. The type he hated. He almost groaned. Jo was going to owe him big time. He laughed wondering if she could hear his thoughts as he flipped the channels. “You still owe me from the last one.” “I know. Thanks Gabe.” “No problem. Stay safe out there.” “You too.” **** In the dark of the night, outside her house, Dane watched. She really shouldn’t leave her curtains open. It was so easy to follow her, tail her from the Oakland FBI office. He could picture the scenario in his head. It was late, and she was tired, not paying attention to the nondescript Honda following her. She didn’t understand. Dane’s body tensed when she plucked the combs from her hair, one by one. She let the blond mass tumble down her back. So long, she had such long hair. He didn’t expect it. He’d never seen it down before. Never watched her this close before. He wanted to know her habits, learn what made her tick. Why does she have to be so gorgeous? Makes it harder. The rage hit him. He wanted her to understand, but he realized she wouldn’t. Killing those people was necessary. All he wanted to do was work his part-time job at the lab, make a little extra money without having to beg his Dad. But the personnel were experimenting on those dead babies for HIV research. It was sick and funded by the government, how could they do it? Those people couldn’t even let the dead lay in peace. So, wrong, that was it, the final straw for him and finally he’d made a worthwhile statement. Claiming his prize on the Internet the next day was the ultimate thrill. The responsibility for their deaths was his, and he was drunk with the power of it. He almost

wished he could bathe in the blood of the dead, a reward for what he had done. Now, people understood killing those lab employees was necessary, needed. He had to make them understand; killing babies was wrong. His sibling, the one he was never able to love, was proof. His rich bitch of a mother had killed him, aborted him in the womb. The brother he would never know because of her selfishness. This was right, what he was doing was the best for everyone. Screw those small time parlor tricks his university buddies taught him. Their cause needed to evolve beyond those ineffective non-violent rallies. Their cause needed to be noticed. He needed to be noticed. His shoulders dropped. No, she wouldn’t understand. She was too practical, and too God damn good. She’d been tracking him for three months, harassing his friends, chatting with his enemies, going through his garbage and mail, and leaving her calling card everywhere. Hell, she even interviewed his mailman. She was dogging his every move. She didn’t give up. It didn’t take her long to focus on him as her primary suspect. His freethinking friends weren’t so loyal when it came to being charged with aiding and abetting a fugitive or accessory to murder. Several had given him up. God damn those idiots. He should kill them too. He was pondering it and enjoying his thoughts. Then she found his bombing equipment. He didn’t think she would move so fast and search his room before he could stash the evidence. That was the night he never went back and began to feel hunted. Not a comfortable feeling. Why couldn’t she be like all those other government employees, fat and lazy? She’s getting too close to finding me. Dane crushed the disposable coffee cup in his fist and dug into his pocket for his keys. He noticed his hands were shaking from the rush of the drink. Coffee and computers, his two vices. He had to have them both. The caffeine might kill him some day, but he would die happy, probably while he was surfing the Internet. He was going to have to move for a while, make himself scarce, and get the heat off his ass. Get her off his ass. He had other plans and a new friend from New York to help him. Together, they would be very effective. There was a back woods town in Idaho he had ties to. He should be safe for a while. It would take her a little time to find him there, give him some breathing room. And next time she came after him, he would be ready to take care of Special Agent Kally Voker. **** Jo jogged up the stairs, heading for the Domestic Terrorism Squad. They were so formal up there. It was like climbing into a time warp. FBI from the Hoover Era. Scary. She hated those steps. The agents on these squads never got a break. Anything out of line, and it was thirty days on the bricks or their term for a suspension, an agent’s worst nightmare. The second-floor agents all wore the typical dark blue suits with conservative ties. Whereas her team went for the casual and sometimes scruffy look following her style, the style of their leader. The minute she cleared the landing, she feared she’d be slammed with a not the good little agent ticket. She slipped into Kally’s office with only a few of the robotic types giving her tan cargo pants and black cotton top a disdainful look. One in particular gave her a probing

stare. He was so formal that Jo wanted to ruffle the agent’s hair and tweak his nose to see how he would react. Kally sat in front of her computer, her blond mass of hair piled on top of her head. Her lipstick was a subtle pink, the perfect shade for her light skin and huge blue eyes. A light blue blouse complemented her crisp, dark suit, which made her eyes stand out. Flawless, Jo thought, and sighed. She would never look that way in a million years. She flopped down in Kally’s guest chair. The pens, phone, notepad, stapler were lined up with military precision. Chuckling devilishly, Jo started rearranging the items. “You’re going to get wrinkles frowning at your computer like that.” Kally stopped typing and smacked Jo’s hand then replaced the items. “Hey, Jo, how are you?” A killer smile and a neat row of perfect white teeth lit her face with a glow. She reminded Jo of the Wal-Mart happy face. “I hate you, Kally. You always look so cute and put together. Have I told you I hate you?” Kally laughed. She even had a cute laugh, feminine with a hint of a giggle. Despite being an agent, Kally was a girly girl. She slouched back in the chair and glared. How had they become friends? She wondered then she remembered. Kally had the kindest soul and was as beautiful inside as out. “Jo, you love me,” Kally said in a no nonsense tone. “I do, girlfriend.” “Last Friday was a blast.” Kally put her nameplate back to where it had been. Jo reached up to tip it sideways and got her hand slapped a second time. “Yeah, Troy gets all atwitter when we do a girls’ night out. Especially with the baby.” She shook her stinging fingers. Kally’s expression softened. “You’re so lucky. What I wouldn’t’ give… Have you felt it yet?” She laid a hand on her stomach, surprised by Kally’s confession. She’d never thought Kally would long for a baby. Pregnancy would get in the way of Kally’s workload and that was a no-no for the third-generation agent. “Not yet. The doctor says I will soon though.” “I’m so happy for you.” Jo rolled her eyes. “Cut it out, would ya? I can’t stand it when you do that Stepford FBI agent thing. It scares me.” Kally chucked. “I love you, Jo.” Jo rolled her eyes again. “Okay, listen.” She tapped Kally’s desk so she would have her full attention. “Jack told me you need to track this bomber suspect in Idaho. I have a connection there I’m going to hook you up with. He’s the best. He’ll help you find your guy. He’s a local, a detective for the Boise Police Department and one of their SWAT team leaders. He’s also on their Gang Task Force.” “Wow, sounds great.” “His name is Gabe Blackhawk. He’s going to pick you up at the airport. Send me an e-mail with your flight info after you book it and I’ll get it to him.” “Gabe Blackhawk, wow, what a unique name. Native American?” Jo wasn’t going to give anything away. She wanted Kally to be as shocked as she’d been the first time she laid eyes on Gabe. She would never tell Troy, but she was floored. He was beyond attractive. When he walked by, women from eighteen to eighty stopped what they were doing and stared.

“Oh yeah, he’s from the Blackfoot Confederacy, right off the reservation.” She waved her hand. “He’ll be a big help.” Kally lined her pen up with the paper pad. Jo shook her head. Kally was so anal, but one of the best agents Jo had ever worked with. Gabe would shake up her neat and organized world. Perfect. “Thanks, Jo, I appreciate your help. You have time for lunch? I want to get your thoughts on some steps I’ve taken on the fugitive hunt, up to this point.” She glanced down at the paper pad again. She had a little list with boxes and items checked off. Jo wrinkled her nose as if the list smelled like sewage. She didn’t know how Kally got anything done with all those lists. Jo just flew by the seat of her pants. Kally rose and straightened her dark suit jacket. “Sounds good,” Jo said. Jo waited until Kally exited the office then reached down and turned Kally’s nameplate upside down. She smiled. Oh, boy, she couldn’t wait to get a report from Gabe after he met Kally for the first time. **** Kally glanced out the window at the passing clouds. She wondered how long it would be until they reached Idaho. She neatly wrapped up the headset and slid it in the pocket of the seat in front of her. She thought about the last conversation with her father. “When are you coming to Washington next, Kallesandra?” “I’m not sure Father, why?” “There’s a gentleman I want you to meet. He’s running for Senator.” Kally had sighed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, nervous at disappointing her father. She wasn’t going to; she was going to tell him what he wanted to hear. “I’ll be there soon, father. Soon.” She reached into her purse and plucked out her compact to check her appearance. Wouldn’t do to be messy. While she was growing up, her family had a strict policy on personal appearance and grooming—always professional and polished. Her father, the Director of Counter Terrorism Division in Washington, D.C., would be mortified if Kally met a fellow law enforcement officer looking unkempt. “The FBI is the best,” he’d always told her. “When you work for the best, you act like the best and you dress like the best.” In other words, be perfect. Sometimes the pressure was so high she felt like she was going to be interviewed by the Director at the Hoover building of the FBI on a daily basis. Kally soothed a flyaway curl back into place. Sometimes she wanted to rip the clip from her hair and go wild. But pleasing her family, abiding by the rules, was tattooed into her bones. If she ever danced on the wild side she wasn’t sure what would happen. The world might stop spinning, she thought, mocking herself then she sobered. Since her sister’s death, the pressure of her father’s disapproval weighed heavily on her. Her sister had gone astray, decided to rebel, and died from a drug overdose when Kally was ten. Since then, there was no more play. Her life had been structured and monitored, even to this day.

Kally dismissed her thoughts; it did no good to think on it. She couldn’t change it, now or then. She plucked her notebook from her pocket and opened it. She ran down the detailed list and began checking off some of the ‘to do’s’. Yes, she had accomplished everything she needed to. She flipped the notebook to the next page with military efficiency. Sketching a box around Detective Gabe Blackhawk’s name, she let her mind wander. She had never met a Native American, not on a personal level. When she asked Jo to describe him so she would recognize him at the airport, Jo laughed. “You won’t have any problem spotting Gabe, don’t worry.” The spark of mischief she’d seen in her friend’s eyes still worried her. She wondered if he would be dark with black hair. Would he be handsome? Tall and thin or tall and thick? Given all that he did, if she were a betting girl, she’d say at the very least he was attractive. Just by the look on Jo’s face when she talked about him, a picture of Lou Diamond Phillips came to mind. Jo had said he was young, only twenty-nine. Detective, SWAT leader, and Gang Squad liaison, sounded like he shouldered a lot of heavy responsibility for someone so young. Of course so did she, and she was only thirty. She frowned and continued to draw. Somehow her circle had formed into a heart. She gasped and snapped the notebook shut. What was that? Kally shook her head. ‘You are a professional and will act like one.’ Her father’s voice spoke in her head, making her spine stiffen. She didn’t have time to daydream about someone she hadn’t even met. She had a case to solve and was too close to nabbing this bomber to be diverted by silly fantasies. Originally, Kally was simply going to send a lead to the Boise bureau, but at Jo’s vehement recommendation she’d decided to work the lead herself. Gabe Blackhawk’s reputation preceded him. Everyone she talked to in the Boise FBI Office told her they were too busy to work a simple fugitive lead. Besides, it was good for her to make connections with the local law enforcement, she thought. She was always open to learning new investigative techniques. The captain’s voice came through the plane’s speaker, making the final descent announcement. Kally buckled her seatbelt and sat back to wait. I need to stop daydreaming and get focused on my case. Once I get my feet on the ground, these silly daydreams would remain where they belong, up in the clouds.

Chapter Four Gabe waited. He sat in the SWAT truck with his men, sweating from the heat and weight of his gear. The midday sun pounded down on the truck, turning it into an oven, as they waited for the word to clear the warehouse. The warehouse was surrounded by aging single-family homes and a duplex. Gabe counted cars in the parking lot. There were over twenty. There was supposed to be legitimate shipping business going on but SWAT knew better. Multiple complaints of the drug activity clued them in. The order to raid the suspected crack house had come an hour before he was supposed to pick up Agent Voker at the airport. Sitting here, he tried not to fret like a teenager late for a date. Any moment now, he’d be in a situation where people might start using him for target practice. Picking a Fed up at the airport should be at the bottom of the priority list. But it wasn’t. He didn’t want to leave a bad impression. Jo had warned him Kally was old school, formal FBI. Showing up twenty minutes late to pick her up wasn’t going to look good. He owed it to Jo to be professional. He rubbed the back of his neck. Man, oh man, he sucked in a breath. If he was a drinking man, he would be heading to the bar right now just to ease his frustration. Gabe shook his head. Damn, why the hell was he thinking about that right now? He focused. “SWAT leader,” his Chief’s voice blared from the radio, “you guys want to have some fun?” Adrenaline hummed through Gabe. “We’re ready, Chief, let’s rock and roll. Switching to Alpha five.” “Roger, SWAT leader.” “Squad, switch to Alpha five SWAT radio frequency.” His men nodded and switched to their private band. Good, he thought, glancing at his tactical watch. They were hopping now. He might even make it to the airport on time after all. “Let’s go, Chief, some of us have other work to do,” Gabe said. “Yeah, don’t I know it. I’m missing lunch here. Okay, SWAT leader. On my mark.” Gabe gave a visual signal to his men. He set his helmet on his head. They followed his example. He’d trained with most of them for three years, but he had two new guys this trip. Glancing at his team, Gabe reminded himself there was no room for complacency in this job, not when drug dealers could pick up an automatic weapon on the street corner as easily as they scored with a hooker. Ignoring the rules or skipping a step would get somebody killed. “Go!” The Chief’s voice sent them into action. Gabe held up three fingers to his men and ticked them off. “Three, two, one… Go, Go, Go.” Gabe took the lead, and they spilled out of the truck. Approaching the building, they split. The warehouse was small, only one story, but it didn’t make it any less dangerous. Lots of tight spaces, corners, and blind spots to clear in this kind of building.

His vision tunneled, his breath puffing out with every step as they entered the building. Nerves have no place here, he told himself. Breathing deep, he tried to keep his composure. Losing his calm could mean losing lives. Gabe could hear screaming and yelling and briefly noticed the mad scramble of people around him as they swept through the building and cleared each room. He needed to stay focused. Concentrating on his objective meant when it was said and done, everyone went home safe. They methodically cleared every room, hauling out suspects as they went, then bundling them into the police wagon for a one-way trip to the station. The obvious innocents were released. Gabe clamped down on his impatience as he interviewed his last witness on the sidewalk in front of the warehouse. Mop them up then sort them out, was his team’s motto. Checking his watch, Gabe valiantly attempted to concentrate as the gray-haired woman chatted on and on, as if he had all day to listen. “You know, I’ve been calling in complaints to you boys since they moved in across from me.” She nodded at her small house. “Yes, ma’am,” Gabe said for the sixth time. Talking back to witnesses like her only lengthened the interview. “I have a record of all my calls. Do you want me to get them, officer?” “No,” Gabe snapped. Narrowing her eyes, she glared at him. “I mean, no ma’am.” Gabe softened his tone, taking her arm and guiding her toward her house. “We already have them. Not to worry.” One of his men got his attention by waving his arms like he was flagging down an airplane. He tapped at the face of his watch, and Gabe nodded. He needed to go. “Are you sure? I have them right next to my Felix phone. I got that Felix phone one day at the best garage sale…” Gabe clenched his teeth in frustration. As one of his newer trainees strode by, Gabe reached out and snagged his arm, causing him to skid on the pavement. “Sharrow, take over here. Ms. Waniker was about to give a detailed report of her calls.” The kid nodded enthusiastically, so new he hadn’t completed a neighborhood interview yet. Gabe felt guilty as he handed over his witness, but not guilt-ridden enough to change his mind. He could hear her finishing her story about her Felix phone as he jogged toward his car. He was late and didn’t have time to remove his gear. He jumped into his unmarked police car, hit the siren and took off. He had a Federal Agent to pick up. **** Kally’s irritation escalated with every minute that ticked by. She settled down into one of the uncomfortable airport chairs to wait, glancing at her watch for the third time. She grimaced, plucked some papers from her briefcase and began to plot her case. Without meaning to, she flipped her wrist and checked the time again. She dropped her arm in disgust. Wouldn’t help to look at the darn watch again. The man was thirty minutes late. She had already called the number Jo had given her, but no one answered.

Kally was considering calling a cab and taking it to the police station when her attention was caught by a dark-haired man jogging into the airport. He was tall and slim, in a run five miles a day, male model way. BOISE POLICE SWAT was stamped across the front of his jacket in yellow and he wore tactical gear, including dark blue cargo pants and sturdy black boots. He slowed to a stroll with a grace that stunned her. Long flowing movement, not a motion wasted, even though he seemed in a hurry. He walked with purpose; he knew where he was going, confident and alert. His gaze scanned the room as if he didn’t miss anything going on around him. He was so striking it stunned her stupid. Blindingly handsome, in a rugged old west way, yet strangely exotic. He was obviously Detective Blackhawk. How many men ran around in SWAT gear in the middle of the day? His gaze focused on her, as if he saw no one else in the waiting area. He seemed surprised at her appearance. Running a hand through his long hair, he headed her way. His skin was a lovely chocolate color, like creamy light fudge. Standing, Kally clutched the to-do book and file folder to her chest. The closer he came, the harder her heart pounded. Sweat pooled at the base of her neck. Heat infused her body, rushing up her face. Was she losing her mind? “Agent Voker?” he asked and held out his hand as he approached. Kally looked into his eyes. They were light green, almost iridescent green reminding her of the first leaves on a tree in spring. Stunning, but she saw something haunting lurking in his gaze, something dark she couldn’t quite place. The combination marred his perfection, but didn’t lesson his appeal. You better shake his hand, her mind commanded, instead of staring into his eyes like a teenage groupie. She turned the command into action. Lifting her hand, the notebook and file tumbled out of her arms in a flutter of paper. “Oh.” She bent down to retrieve them the same time he did. Their heads conked. “Ouch.” Slapping her hand to her forehead, she recoiled and landed on her ass. “Oh.” She glanced up. Could she be any more of an idiot? He stood above her while his hand confirmed no damage to his forehead. “You okay?” Reaching down, he helped her to her feet. The moment the warmth of his skin touched hers she was lost. All she could think about was a sultry, private beach and lying naked under this man. She let him draw her up, hoping he would tug her the extra three inches straight into his body. “Agent Voker?” he asked again, but she had lost her voice. What the hell is wrong with me? I can’t speak. “I’m assuming since you’re the only other one in the airport with a gun besides me, you’re Kally Voker, Oakland FBI?” He reached down and retrieved her dropped items. “Huh?” Kally couldn’t remember his question. He smiled. One of those cigarette-after-sex smiles. Sinful. He nearly blinded her with his sex appeal, oozed it. “Agent Voker, are you all right?” Kally tried to retrieve her calm demeanor. Unfortunately the heat of his fingers on her skin and the energy it created were melting her brain cells. She needed to pull herself

together. She could hear her father’s voice in the back of her mind… be professional, good god, pull yourself together! “Um, yeah, yeah… I’m Agent Voker.” She broke his ice green gaze and reached for her notebook and file. “Thanks.” The word seemed inadequate. She wanted to say, thanks for letting me look at you, you sexy, beautiful man. If Kally didn’t know any better, she would say love at first sight just hit her. Well maybe not hit, more like knocked her out. Tilting his head, he dropped his hand from her forehead and stared at her. Studying him back, she reached up and brushed her bangs aside. “Sorry I’m so late, got a last minute call out.” He placed his hands in front of him in the universal sign of surrender. “I apologize, I… wasn’t expecting—.” “It’s okay, I understand.” She reached down and shoved the notebook and file into her briefcase. Sliding the strap over her shoulder she tried to fake being a composed professional. Breaking his gaze helped. She grabbed the handle of her suitcase and rolled it along behind her. He stepped forward and gripped the briefcase strap, trying to take it off her shoulder. She set her mouth and tugged. He pulled back, and she pulled harder. He raised a single brow. She wasn’t going to let him win this war. She was going to maintain her professionalism if it killed her and that meant carrying her own things. She was mortified, truly embarrassed by her own behavior. “Can I carry that for you?” She held onto the leather strap as if it was her link to sanity. “No, thanks, I have it. Should we go? I’m anxious to get your take on this case.” He released the leather, his hand slowly slipping off her shoulder. Kally stiffened as a shiver galloped down her spine to her toes. She’d never been this off balance before. Never. Squaring her shoulders, she turned and preceded him, wondering when her equilibrium would return. **** Gabe made a soft wolf whistle in his mind. What a gorgeous woman. As she walked in front of him, he watched the sway of her hips. And what a sway it was. Uptight, organized, and wholeheartedly passionate were the immediate words that came into his mind, especially passionate. He wanted to let down her hair. The blond curly mound piled on top of her head begged for release. He wanted to pluck the pins out, one at a time. Then, when the hair curled down past her shoulders, he wanted to nibble on her lips, slowly, savoring. He smiled at the thought as he trailed her. Oh man, I’m in big trouble. **** “Clarice if you don’t shut that kid up, I’ll do it for you.” Dane slammed his coffee cup on the counter. He was at the end of his patience. “Dane, this is your child. It would be nice if you would act like it.” Dane swore. Yeah his kid, one mistake of not having a condom when he was sixteen and he was saddled with both of these bitches.

“Listen, all I need you to do is give Harry a place to stay for a while.” Clarice shifted the toddler in her arms while she tried to calm her incessant crying. “Dane, you know I’d do anything for you, but I don’t like the look of that guy.” “Clarice.” Dane took a calming breath. He knew what Clarice needed. He leaned over and gave her an open mouthed kiss. Sucking her tongue into his mouth, he smiled inside when she moaned and clutched at his shoulders. “Just for a couple weeks, babe, no big deal. Do it for me?” He shifted his brat from Clarice’s arms into his own. He kissed her on the sticky cheek. Clarice softened. “Okay, but no trouble.” “Baby,” he moved forward and pulled her against him, “am I ever trouble?” He kissed her down the side of her jaw. She sucked in a breath. His daughter began wailing, again. He rolled his eyes. “Why don’t we take Jenna over to the sitter’s and I’ll take you out for a night on the town, okay?” He claimed her mouth again. He could feel his erection rising against his pants. He might as well get something out of this bitch while he was in town. He had her wrapped around his finger. In the future, her gullibility would come in handy. “I’ll call Harry and tell him to come over.” “Okay, Dane.” She sighed against his lips. “I’ll need to hit the road for a while. Got some things to do.” “You’re leaving?” Her high-pitched whine made him wince. He thrust Jenna back into her arms. “Yeah. Don’t give me any more shit, or you won’t see me at all. Got it?” Dane was done being nice. He had absolutely no plans to include this woman or this brat in his future. There was someone else that held more interest for him. “Okay, Dane. I’ll be ready.” “Make sure you are.” He nodded, grabbed his computer bag and left.

Chapter Five Gabe rested his feet on his desk directly across from Agent Kally Voker and stared like a boy with a serious teenage crush. They’d finally made it back to the police station. Gabe was lucky. He had an office with only two desks so not too many people intruded. She seemed a little scattered, but if he had to guess he would say he’d rattled her. He sensed something special in her. She emitted a spark that fired up something inside him. A lively spark that had lain dormant for too long, waiting to be lit. Gabe had one rule. Never, ever, mess with women you work with. But he was tempted to throw that rule away with this woman. No, he shook his head at his thoughts, no, no, absolutely not; he would not get involved with someone he worked with. Uh oh, she was talking again, and he wasn’t listening, too busy salivating. Mentally he slapped himself. She flipped open another folder and one of the papers floated to the floor. Gabe jumped up to retrieve it. He laid it back into the folder and leaned over her to analyze the photo she was describing. Her scent wafted over him. Roses. She smelled like a rose, all female. He tightened all over. His body wouldn’t settle down. He was all jumbled, from his heart to his toes. There was a connection between them, formed the first minute his eyes had touched hers. His people would say it was a mating bond, created when a male made contact for the first time with his other half. His soul mate. Gabe had never felt the connection before. He’d thought it was a myth. Last week, during his visit to the reservation, his mother told him, ‘Soon it will be your time for love, my angel.’ Gabe laughed at her and kissed her cheek, blowing off her prediction. ‘This angel isn’t going to love anytime soon. Not anyone except you, my wonderful mother, he had said. “This is the address attached to the phone number.” Kally tapped a paper on the desk. Gabe sucked in a slow breath, trying to pull in as much of her scent as he could. Then he buckled down to concentrate and do what he did best. Find people. “It’s in a bad area. Lots of drugs on that side of the city.” She nodded and slid a picture of the subject in front of him. The kid didn’t look old enough to wipe his own ass. “Man.” He pulled a chair over and straddled it, easing down. “Looks just out of high school. What’s his story?” “Dane Riely, a Berkeley graduate. A genius really, trust fund baby.” She smoothed a hair back from her forehead. He noticed that she made this motion a lot, as if trying to tame her hair. Gabe liked that her efforts weren’t working. He hoped those wild curls carried over into bed. What? He rubbed his hand over his face. He hadn’t gotten enough sleep last night maybe that was the problem.

“A straight-A student, degree in chemistry and a minor in industrial engineering. An expert at bomb building.” She handed Gabe a printout of the fugitive’s degree transcripts. “Impressive.” Gabe scanned the paper then tossed it back into the folder. “Yes, definitely. He got on this anti-abortion campaign during school. Small protests and the like at first then,” she snapped her fingers. “Like that—he was sucked in. Inevitably it escalated. He was working at the lab, we suspect to case where to place the bomb.” She held up a photo of the bombsite. “We found distinct elements from the bomb in his apartment, unique and identifying.” Gabe grimaced. “I have cell phone tower hits around the bomb site during the time in question, then he ditched the phone,” she continued. “He disappeared, never showed back at the lab after that night, obviously. We have surveillance video at the site placing his car driving by several times during the evening. “My squad tracked him through his Internet activity to a Cyber café in Boise. Buried in the history of his phone records, he called someone here, in Boise. I made a connection from interviews of his friends and family to a former girlfriend that lives here.” “Warrant?” he asked, flipping through the rest of her notes. “Yep, federal,” She held up the paper then did the strangest thing and re-stacked each one he’d set down. He swallowed a laugh. There was the woman Jo had alluded to, peeking out. Organized and uptight. Gabe was beginning to enjoy every aspect of her personality. He especially liked the fantasy of persuading her to let her hair down. Slow down big guy, I need to stop it. She is really getting to me. Messing with someone he worked with would only cause problems, both professionally and personally. His job meant too much to him to risk it on a quick affair. “Let’s sit on the house a while, if you want,” he said. “I’ve got a beat-up surveillance van we can use. Won’t stand out too much. See if we can spot him coming and going. Okay with you?” “Sounds good.” “We can review some more case details during the long hours of night.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. I can’t believe I just did that. The corners of her lips quirked up in a half-smirk. “Detective Blackhawk…” He held up a hand. “Gabe, please.” She softened. He could see it in her eyes. Like warm honey on ice cream. She paused as if she wanted to say more, then she grabbed her blazer off the chair and stood. “Never mind, thanks…thanks for helping me.” She shrugged on the coat. Despite traveling most the day she remained neat and polished and Gabe was amazed. Snatching her bag before she could, he grinned. “My pleasure,” he said, and he meant it wholeheartedly. Despite his own reservations, he really liked her. **** Gabe set his coffee in the cup holder, held up his high power camera and snapped a couple shots in case they needed to make a raid. They were parked on the nasty side of town, watching, waiting, the exciting life of a law enforcement officer. “Not much happening here. The regular stuff.”

“I see that.” Displaying their wares, several prostitutes stood on the corner, calling to drivers as they cruised by. At one a.m. this neighborhood was coming alive. “We’ll be okay here?” Kally asked. He glanced at her. Despite the late—or early—hour, she looked fresh and alert. Cheeks rosy, hair piled on top her head, her shirt not even wrinkled. Kissable. Gabe, on the other hand, felt he could use a shower and about twelve hours of sleep. He ran a hand along his five o‘clock shadowed jaw. She looked good enough to take out on an expensive dinner date and he felt like he needed a week off. Preferably with her and on an abandoned beach with a Margarita in his hand. He frowned at the thought. Man, his fatigue was making him loopy and weak. “Oh yeah,” he said. “This van can get us anywhere. They won’t even give us a second glace. As long as we’re not peddling drugs, upsetting the delicate balance, we’ll be fine for a couple more hours.” She nodded. “You’re right about not much going on. You think he’s here?” Gabe snapped a couple more shots of the area. “This is prime time. If he’s here and meeting other criminals, I think we’ll see some activity. Then again, if he’s lying low, he could simply be down for the night. But considering we’ve been here since five p.m., you could be right. This might be a dead end.” She reached into her folder and took out a pad with marks on it. He leaned over and almost laughed. There were little boxes and check marks after each investigative activity. Certainly not the notes of the rattled woman he’d knocked heads with. Made him feel better. Maybe he’d stirred her a little bit, enough to make her lose her cool. Although composed on the outside, he had a feeling there was a lot more going on in Agent Kally Voker’s head. “Well, my records show the utilities and phone are up to date,” she said. “No late payments, under his ex-girlfriend’s name, Clarice Jake. And I saw an increase in use the past month. Likely another occupant is living there.” “Yep.” He was impressed. Most investigators didn’t bother to put together those details or even go that level to find someone. They wanted cases to solve themselves the easy way. The key to a good investigator was hard work. He could tell Kally was a great investigator. “He’s probably there. Laying low.” He watched the house. “Got something.” A beat up older model Mustang pulled up and parked on the street. Snapping photos with one hand, Gabe grabbed his radio with the other. “Dispatch, S-1, run a plate for me.” “Roger S-1,” a woman replied. “Go ahead.” “Nine, Victor, Three, Romeo, Charlie, Kilo, 9V3RCK.” “Standby S-1.” Two people exited the car and walked toward the house. “Recognize anyone?” Pulling two photos from her folder, Kally checked them. “The girl looks like Clarice, don’t recognize the male.” She held up the photo of the female, showing him.

“Yep.” He snapped a few more photos. “Let’s watch for a bit, see if they wake up your boy.” “Sounds good.” “You want to take him if we see him?” he asked as he grabbed a couple shots of the car, including the license plate. “Nah, let’s see what he’s up to. We can set up a team if we need to arrest him. As long we know where he’s at, I’d just as soon wait. I’m concerned he’s planning another bombing. Let’s sit on him for a while, track him, and find out what he’s doing here.” Gabe nodded. “Sounds like a plan.” It was a plan, a smart one. His respect for her grew. The easy way would be to nab him immediately and take him in. The smart way would be to nab him and his conspirators and take them all. “S-1 ready to copy?” “Ready, go,” he responded. “Plate comes back registered to a 1975 Ford Mustang, registered owner Clarice Jake, 549 Alpine Road, Boise. Need anything else, like maybe a date for Saturday night?” Gabe shook his head. The women in his department seemed to have formed a pact to see who could get him into bed first. And they were relentless. He received one offer after another. “Nope, thanks dispatch, address confirmed. I’ll be in touch, out on surveillance, might need to run a few more plates.” “Anything for you, Gabe.” He rolled his eyes and glanced at Kally. She was looking at him as if she wanted to use his face for target practice. “Sorry about that.” She fiddled with a curl falling into her face. “That’s fine. We’re working together. Your social life is not my business.” She was right—they were working together, that was all. Still he was compelled to…gently touch the curls that had been tempting him all day. He pushed her hand aside and soothed the flyaway back into place. Her hand fluttered then froze. He couldn’t help himself. His fingers ran down her cheek to her jaw. Dropping his hand, he stopped himself before he did something he would regret later. “Umm, you have…” He turned away and picked up the surveillance. He must be going crazy to touch her like that. Now he was stuck. “You have really nice skin.” The words came out as if his mouth weren’t connected to his brain. If he could have slapped himself without looking like a worse idiot, he would. Man, so much for keeping their relationship professional. “Oh, well, umm…” Her hands flapped in the air again. “Um, thanks, so do you.” Gabe turned back to glance at her, trying to figure out what the heck she was saying. “Uh, well, I meant…” She threw up her hands. “Sorry, not sure what I meant.” Gabe faced front again. He ran a hand over the back of his neck. There was that desire to drink again as he wondered briefly what she thought about him. It’s going to be a long night. “Let’s sit on this for another hour,” he said, “until it looks like they’re in for the night then grab a couple hours of sleep and hit it early. I’ll see if I can get the guys on the gang squad to take over until we pick it back up.” “Okay.” She began fumbling through her notes.

He grabbed his binoculars and watched the house. For the next hour nothing stirred. All was quiet on the criminal front. Maybe they had hit the sack. Even criminals had to sleep. He and Kally took down several plates from the neighborhood cars to see if they could hone in on what the suspect might be driving. Time to call in for backup, Gabe thought. Switching his radio to the right frequency, he keyed the microphone. “S-1, Bravo six, do you read me?” “Read you loud and clear, boss, what’s up?” “You in an undercover car?” “Roger that.” “Can you guys make your way over here and take over? Need you to spy on a house for a while, second shift. Brief you at the parking lot of the plant down the road. We’ll switch cars. Keep us from getting marked.” “No problem, be right over.” Gabe read off the address. Grabbing a couple copies of the photos for the guys, he almost laughed when his hand touched hers and the photos flew all over the van. This was getting to be a habit. “I’m not usually like this,” she blurted out. “Not usually like what?” “Not usually so unorganized, scattered… Really, I’m usually more together. I’m sorry.” “That’s a shame, I kind of like you this way.” She appeared shocked then she did something he never thought she would do. She laughed, almost a giggle, so girly, cute and very arousing. Sitting straighter in his seat he tried to concentrate on something benign, like the weather. But his eyes strayed back to her. The way she blurted out her self-diagnosed personality assessment was comical. He knew she was rattled. Jo had told him what a good agent she was, how organized and proper. He tried to feel regret that he unbalanced her, but couldn’t talk himself into the sentiment. Some completely male part of him liked the idea she found him so distracting it was making her act differently. Gabe chuckled. Turning in his seat, his knee hit hers. He liked touching her. Her lips pressed together, mutinous, as if she read his thoughts. “You’re a piece of work, Gabe Blackhawk.” “Yeah, I am, aren’t I?” He moved in closer, an inch at a time. Her hand flew up to push the hair out of her face. He realized her action was a nervous habit. Stopping her hand, he guided it to his thigh, where he pressed it, palm down. He could feel the heat of her hand through his jeans. “Leave it, let it be.” He heard a sleepy quality in his voice he barely recognized. He was teetering on the edge of doing something he would regret, he knew it but couldn’t stop himself. Her hand tensed, clutching at his leg. His temperature skyrocketed, his heart pounding. He knew it wasn’t a good idea, but he wanted to kiss her more than he wanted to breathe. Leaning in, he took a whiff of her, like a wolf scenting his mate… His nostrils flared in arousal. She smelled incredible. “Relax,” he whispered and gently stroked the back of her tense hand. “Relax.”

He felt as if he were soothing a high-strung horse. Her hand clenched, then, with a little hitch of her breath, relaxed. He tried to use one of the techniques of his people, a relaxation technique. His need to have her comfortable with him was twofold. First, if caught in a dangerous situation, her stress and worry could be deadly, to both of them. Secondly, he just wanted her to be okay with him as a man. “It’s you and me here, no one else. No worries.” He calmed her with his voice. “No officials to track your work. No one to judge you and absolutely no need to impress me. I like you, Kally. I know you’re the best at what you do. You can relax with me. I’m a child of the Plains. We judge no one but ourselves. Live free with me and never apologize for who you are. You are special, so unique.” He knew the moment she fully relaxed, the softening of her hand on his leg, a sigh, her shoulders dropped. He felt victorious, as if he’d won an Olympic gold metal. Running his other hand into her hair, he stroked the stray lock behind her ear, where he knew she wanted it. “Okay?” he asked. She nodded, her bright blue eyes meeting his. He searched her face, making sure she understood she could be free to relax around him. Be free to express herself without reservation. She didn’t need to impress him. Unfortunately, the relaxation technique that was working beautifully on her was spinning him out of control. His body hardened with every breath he took. The closer he moved to her, the hotter he became. Her scent was making him crazy, building a feeling of want deep inside him. There was something about her he couldn’t resist. Despite his brain’s call to stop, he slid in a little closer. The hand on her face began to weave itself into her hair, almost as if it had a mind of its own. Caressing her temple, his thumb slid along her cheek. She was like a ray from the sun with her bright blue eyes and corn-spun blond hair. He wondered if it was a coincidence that his people worshipped the sun. “Feel free with me. I’m a son of the Plains Indians,” he murmured. Her eyes closed and he angled in, closer, closer. She licked her lips, wetting them. He wanted to replace her tongue with his. He ran his hand around the back of her neck, inching in. Touching his lips to hers, he tasted a bit of heaven… Beep, beep, beep. The sound sucked him back to reality. Her eyes flew open and he could feel her stress ratchet upward. He cursed at himself. What the hell was he doing? “Damn.” He grabbed the beeper from his belt and checked the number. “Shit, SWAT callout. I’ve got to go, let’s get this switch done.” “Okay.” He started the van and drove the three blocks down to the plant parking lot. “I have an extra bedroom. If you don’t mind, I’ll drop you there so you can get a couple hours sleep,” he said, not looking into her face. If he did, she’d see how much he wanted her to say yes. “Umm, I can get hotel.” “No need. We’ll be working together pretty closely. Best not have to worry about pick up and drop offs. We should stay close.” He tried to make it seem reasonable, but it didn’t sound that way, even to him. He took a deep breath. He needed to act casual. “It’s no big deal. It’s a big house and you’ll have plenty of privacy.” “You’re sure?” She sounded skeptical.

He decided to cut this conversation off quickly. He wanted her close to him. That’s all there was to it. Wasn’t sure why, but he did. “Yep, sure. It’s the best solution.” “Well…umm…all right.” He sighed in relief, the tension easing from his shoulders. Gabe drove into the lot of the plant and two members of the gang squad met them. They made a quick switch, extracting promises they would watch the house until Gabe and Kally could return in the morning. He drove Kally to his house, wondering what she’d think of it. It was a large single level ranch. It had taken him a while to save enough money to buy it, and a lot of overtime, but he was proud to own the property. It was a repo and with his family’s help, he fixed it up, and made it home. His mother and sister insisted he decorate it, bringing a piece of his culture into his life. He hoped she wouldn’t find the Native American décor overwhelming. He was proud of his Blackfoot heritage; however, he was also sensitive to the fact not everyone was in touch with their roots. It was strange he even worried what she thought about him, usually he didn’t, but with her it seemed to matter. Gabe trained himself long ago to stop caring about other people’s opinions. He mentally shook himself and tried not to shiver. Caring for someone like Kally would be dangerous, because he knew what it was like to hit rock bottom dreaming about acceptance and never getting it. He learned the hard way, at the bottom of a bottle and he wasn’t going to go there again. He gave her a few quick instructions then headed toward the station to meet up with the squad. He tried his damnedest not to think about Kally during the SWAT brief. It just wouldn’t do to go on a raid with a woman on his mind.

Chapter Six Meandering around Gabe’s house, Kally ended up in front of the fireplace. Touching a few of his pictures, she wondered about the man who called himself a son of the Plains Indians. There were photographs, lots of them, clearly his family. Smiling faces greeted her. She stopped in front of a photograph of Gabe with three brown skinned, black haired people. One was older, must be his mother. The other was a gorgeous woman, the spitting image of him, and the last was a small boy. Must be his family, she thought. Gabe was the only one in the group with those striking green eyes. She wandered to a glass enclosure. Under it was an array of items; an arrowhead, a Native American headdress, doe skin breeches and a beaded top. There was also a scrap of leather that looked like a loincloth, and a beaded necklace, like you’d see in the movies. A pair of beaded moccasins rested on the side of the clothes. She ran her hand over the glass. A lot of history here. It was obvious he was proud of his heritage. From the Native American art on the wall, to the hand woven rugs on the wood floor; the room shouted the fact to her. She liked it. She appreciated he was in touch and comfortable with who he was. Sometimes, Kally wished she had the same balance. When she was with her family, she always felt as if she was preparing for a college examination and her father was the test administrator. As if he stood in front of the class waiting to mark down every problem she got wrong, scrutinizing her to see if she was cheating. When she was with Gabe today…when he touched her, told her to relax, she had never felt so comfortable in her life. There was something about his voice, his touch, even his smell that wove into her consciousness, anchored and wouldn’t let go. She was very much afraid she could fall in love with him at the drop of a hat. Wouldn’t her father love that? She sighed. He had a Senator’s son all picked out for her. Every time she went to visit, he would invite another important man to dinner. It was embarrassing. She was close to thirty and her father was still setting her up on dates with men he considered worthy. Making her way to the spare bedroom, she unpacked and sat on the bed. She was tired. Gabe had told her to get some sleep. They needed to relieve the gang squad as soon as they could. Basically, watching the house for Gabe was a favor, and she didn’t want to make him look bad. Unpinning her hair, she let the curly mass fall down her shoulders and into the small of her back. Running her hands through it, she sighed in relief. Sometimes having it all pinned up on top of her head hurt. Changing into a baggy shirt and sweats, she flopped across the bed. She smiled and the image of Gabe’s handsome face inching closer to hers was the last thing she remembered. **** A loud crash woke her. Immediately, Kally jumped up and went for her gun. Cautiously, she crept her way down the hall toward the bathroom. By the swearing, it

didn’t take her long to figure out it was Gabe. Setting her weapon aside, she knocked on the door. It was slightly ajar, so her knock pushed it open further. “Gabe?” Hearing another crash, she decided to investigate and pushed the door all the way open. “What the… Gabe?” There was blood everywhere. He was trying to staunch it but his haste had everything falling out of the medicine cabinet. He was cursing. He was still in his SWAT gear. His shirt hung open as if he tried to remove and failed. Calm and collected, Kally immediately took control. “Sit down.” She pushed him onto the toilet seat. “Tell me what you’ve got here?” This was the Kally she was comfortable with, professional, organized and composed. She assessed the wound at his neck. Seemed like it was mostly blood, not too deep. Maybe needed a butterfly bandage? “A nick. Shot just grazed me.” While holding a towel to his neck, she efficiently began assembling what she needed and tried not to let his wincing and little yowl get to her. She picked up his hand and replaced hers, allowing him to compress the wound. She noticed his hand shook a little, and he was pale as a ghost. “Anywhere else?” “My arm, I think, piece of glass. Nothing fatal, a few scrapes is all.” “Okay, sit still,” she commanded and proceeded to tie back his hair so she could work on his neck wound. He was discomposed, maybe in shock. It amazed her how sometimes a well-planned event, like his call-out, could go wrong and leave you shaken. “What happened?” She knew if she kept him talking it would calm him. “Had a domestic dispute,” he began. “Husband took the wife hostage. He had a gun to her head and wasn’t negotiating. I…” He stopped talking. He didn’t look so good. There was a fine sheen of sweat on his brow. His color wasn’t returning. “Then what?” Lifting his hand off the towel, she scrutinized the wound on his neck. He was right, it wasn’t too bad, just bleeding a lot. Repositioning his hand to hold the towel, she ran some warm water, washed her hands and wet a washrag. Methodically, she worked to clean the wound, gently washing it, and applying a compression bandage. She checked Gabe’s pupils. They dilated, responsive, but he seemed to have dropped into some sort of trance. “What happened next, Gabe?” Peeling back the bandage she noticed the bleeding had slowed. Cleaning the area, she applied some antibiotic cream, a butterfly bandage to hold the wound together then another over top of that. She felt bad for him. He seemed so vulnerable. For all their training, Kally knew that even the strongest man still felt the aftermath of a shooting. On the outside he may look calm, collected, but when he got home—this was the fallout. “I… I… had to shoot him.” He ran his other hand over his face as if trying to wipe away the memory. Rinsing the washcloth, she cleaned the blood from his hands and neck. She realized what was happening. He was experiencing the physical and emotional effects of a shooting. Trainers tried to prepare you for this, tell you what it might be like. Later he might experience nightmares and other psychological symptoms, loss of memory, and

concentration, maybe even anxiety. She didn’t envy him or what he was going through. She could only try to help. She checked his hearing. “Can you hear me okay?” Sometimes a shooting like that caused hearing loss. In the field they didn’t wear protection on their ears like they did on the shooting range. “Yeah, no problem. Had a gas mask on. It helped.” “Okay, is the man dead?” She needed to keep him focused. Talking would bring him back. She slid his shirt off gently to check his arm. “Don’t know. Hauled him off to the hospital.” Working at the Velcro straps holding his bulletproof vest to his body, she released them and worked it off his chest. He came alive now, helping her remove it, with a wince and a groan. Setting his vest aside, she gasped at what she saw. He had a huge bruise on his chest, on his pectoral muscle, directly over his heart. It was a new bruise, all red and nasty. She dropped down on her knees and ran her fingers gently over it. He sucked in a breath and hissed. “What’s this from?” Getting up, she grabbed the washrag and rinsed it off with cold water then tenderly pressed it to his chest to help the swelling and pain. He grimaced again. “He shot me. But I got the wife back safe and sound.” Kally shook her head, hurting at the thought he might have been killed tonight. “What did he shoot you with, a bazooka?” she asked. “Nah, my vest wouldn’t stop something like that. It was your standard semiautomatic pistol.” She found the cut on his arm. It seemed minimal. Moving his hand to his chest to hold the cloth, she grabbed another and began working on the cut. Kneeling in front him, she fixed it up efficiently. When she was satisfied, she looked at him, really looked. He was tired. “Gabe Blackhawk, you’re a mess.” Caressing his face, she ran a thumb under the dark circles of his eyes. “And tired.” At that moment, her need to help him was so strong that it trampled right over her father’s voice screaming in her head be professional. He dropped the cold compress from his chest and buried his hands in her hair. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, “Wanted to see you with your hair down from the first moment I met you… it’s like I thought, spun silk.” Kally smiled, he was punch drunk in his fatigue, saying things his impulse control usually stopped. “How long have you been up, Gabe?” “About thirty seven hours.” Pulling out of his hold, she closed her hand around his and led him to the living room. “Let’s get you a couple hours sleep, okay?” She guided him onto the couch and eased him down. Grabbing a throw pillow, she tucked it under his head. He was coming down now, the adrenalin rush leaving his body drained; she could see it in the way his body relaxed. “Close your eyes for a few. Okay?” “K,” he mumbled, already half asleep.

Kally lightly ran her fingers over the bruise on his chest. He had an incredible chest, hairless, all sinew and muscle, not an ounce of fat on him. His Native American heritage made his skin dark, like a deep tan, but now a nasty bruise marred his perfection. This is what he did…this was his job. Every day, he placed his life on the line, to save the innocents, people he didn’t even know. She couldn’t respect him more than she did that minute. He was a gift. And she felt as if she could be falling head over heels for him. She barely knew him but she could feel it…the need clawing its way to the surface, ripping its way through her common sense. Up to that point, her life had been so lonely, so isolated. But there was something about Gabe… She laid her hand on the bruise. She wished she could heal his hurt with a touch. In his sleep, his dark calloused hand reached up and rested over the top of hers. She sucked in a breath. He could stir her, boy could he stir her! She dropped down onto the floor, leaving her hand where it was. She stared at him for a moment then laid her head across his stomach, pillowing it on her outstretched arm. They only had four hours, at the most, to get some sleep but she wasn’t about to leave him. **** Lurching up, Gabe tried to clear his brain of the nightmare. The shooting, it was haunting him. Lately, they all were. Sweat covered his body and his heart was pounding. He tried to identify where he was. Seeing Kally on the floor triggered his memory. Her hand had slid low on his chest. Quickly, he captured it so she wouldn’t awaken. She appeared very uncomfortable, curled up, her head resting on the couch, her hand stretched out to him. Swinging his legs around, he sat up. His chest hurt like hell. He probed the bruise where the bullet had struck his vest. Thank God for his vest, or he’d be dead. Remembering the shot, he ran a hand through his hair, undoing the tie Kally had placed there. He let it fall. It felt free that way. He had tried to reason with the man holding a gun to his wife’s head. His negations failed, the man turned his gun away from the woman’s temple toward Gabe. Gabe took the shot to his chest without remorse. At the same time, he squeezed the trigger and downed the man. If he hadn’t taken the man out, he would have killed his wife. Crimes of passion needed no reason. The man forced Gabe to take another life. Each one ripped a piece of his soul and lately he felt unbalanced, falling into old habits, thinking about drinking. Maybe I should go to an AA meeting. He’d worry about it after the case was over. Leaning over he winced in pain as he lifted Kally into his arms. She came awake, a sleepy expression on her face. “Gabe, watch yourself.” “It’s nothing.” Carrying her into the bedroom, he set her on the bed. She looked angelic, her hair wildly cascading around her shoulders, haloing her face, and dropping down to her back. Losing himself in her would be so easy. Sitting up, she pushed the blond mess around, tucking it behind her ears. Reaching forward, her fingers lingered over his chest causing him to suck in a breath at her touch. “How’s that feeling?” “Ahh, its fine. No worries.” He sat on the bed next to her.

“You could have been killed tonight.” He nodded, “That’s the job. Your job too.” “I know but…” she ran her hand up his chest and fingered his hair. He leaned forward, wanting to give her better access. She had that sleepy kitten look about her, irresistible. He kept trying to tell himself they were only working a case and he should be sticking to his edict not to mess with women he worked with…but it wasn’t working. “You’re a gift, Gabe. I’d hate to see anything happen to you,” she muttered the words as if talking to herself. She ran her hand deeper into his hair, massaging his head. His body began talking to him, heating up; he felt a deep down urge telling him she was the woman for him, nudging him to move closer to her. His mind was compelling him to take what his body wanted. “I’d like…” she bit her lip and stopped. Running a finger down her jaw, Gabe studied her lips. Moist, pink, full, edible lips, he wanted them for his own. “What would you like, Kally?” He slid closer, hoping she was as aroused as he. His heart pounded so hard he thought she might be able to hear it. “Could you…I know this might sound crazy…but could you kiss me?” “Oh yeah, I can do that.” What the hell, his brain clicked off as his body turned on. Finally, he thought as he plunged his hands in to her hair, aligned her where he wanted, and took those extraordinary lips. He started with a taste, a small nibble, the pressing of his lips to hers, but he could tell immediately one small taste wasn’t enough. Fearing he would scare her, he tried to slow down, but his body quickly flamed out of control and he opened her mouth with his lips and delved in with his tongue. God! He took, licking, mating their tongues, changing the angle so he could go deeper, opening his mouth wider as he claimed her. He clutched her to him and sank into her, feeling as if he had come home. He felt her arms wind around him. When he came up for air, she gasped. He traveled, down her chin to her neck, licking her, tasting the scent driving him crazy. It was like licking his favorite ice cream, but even better. Control was no longer an option—taking was. His body pressed against hers, wanting, needing relief. “Gabe.” Her cry stopped him. He dropped his forehead to her neck trying to find his inner strength. The warrior in him didn’t want to stop; he wanted to claim his mate. “Gabe, your phone is ringing.” He shook his head, panting and tried to comprehend what she was saying. “Your phone’s ringing Gabe, your cellular.” It was as if she had slapped him. He pushed up and swung his legs around. When he had laid on top of her? He had no idea. Grabbing his phone, he flipped it open. “Blackhawk.” His eyes strayed to Kally as she buttoned her shirt. Okay when did I unbutton her shirt? It’s as if some inner being had taken possession of him and wiped out his memory. “Boss?” “Go ahead.” He tried to concentrate but as soon as she shimmied off the bed and stood, he was near lost. He wanted to haul her back. “Boss, are you listening to me?” Gabe tried to shift his attention. “Yeah, go.”

“You’re up boss, we’ve got to head off shift.” He glanced at his watch, it was 4:00 a.m. They had slept longer than he planned. “Yep, be there within thirty to relieve you. Any activity?” “Nothing yet, things are barely stirring here in the hood at four a.m.” “Yeah, right. I’ll give ya a call when we’re ready to make the change.” “Okay, boss.” Gabe flipped the phone closed. Kally watched him. Standing he towered above her. She wasn’t a small woman, but he was tall. She stared at him, hadn’t said anything, he was concerned she had regrets. In order to erase her worries, he slipped his arms around her and lifted her up on her toes, aligning her lips with his. “We’re in trouble here, aren’t we, despite the fact I think we both realize this is wrong?” Her question was softly said, but packed with a meaning he understood. Slowly, gently he kissed her. Her arms curved around his neck and she shifted her body against his, making this little mewing noise, driving him back to the edge of losing control. The kiss deepened before he physically stopped himself and released her. She slid down his body. “Oh yeah, we’re in trouble.” He winked at her and she laughed in her girly way. He shook his head. He never expected such a serious person to laugh that way. “We need to go?” He nodded. “Yep, let’s go see if we can find your boy.” “Okay.” She stepped way, but Gabe couldn’t quite let her go, he grabbed her hand. She looked at him in confusion. He shifted and gently reeled her back into his body, claiming one more kiss. “Really in trouble.” He let her go and her finger’s trailed away as she left.

Chapter Seven “What happened, boss?” As they met up to make the exchange on the surveillance, one of Gabe’s men scrutinized the bandage on his neck. Kally turned toward him to see how he would respond. Touching the dressing, he shrugged as if it was nothing. She was amazed at his cool manner. You wouldn’t think the previous night he was trembling in reaction to a shooting. “Had a little mishap with an angry husband and a semi-automatic pistol.” The man cringed. “Hope it wasn’t personal.” Gabe punched him, playfully. “What’s going on at the house?” “Nothing much, seems they went down for the night. We’re going to get rolling.” “Okay, thanks guys. Tell Armstrong to use SWAT Leader two for a couple of days. “You got it, boss.” Kally was amazed at the great relationship he had with his fellow officers. There was no T in teamwork at the FBI. You usually had to beg to find help on a case. Sometimes, Kally wondered if the government had cloned a bunch of non-team oriented Star Trek Borgs for Agents. Of course, Jo was an exception. Before coming over, they had switched cars at the station. Gabe didn’t want their surveillance to appear too obvious. “Let’s go see what our girl’s up to.” Parking around the corner of the house Kally watched as Gabe leaned the seat back, crossed his arms in front of him and plopped his head against the headrest. “You didn’t get enough sleep.” He gave her a quick look. “Neither did you.” “Well maybe, but I wasn’t running on thirty seven hours straight, only to catch three hours of sleep.” “I’ll be okay.” His eyes were red rimmed. She wasn’t convinced. “Let’s switch places, lie back for a bit, I can watch the house.” “Nah.” He slumped down some more. “Come on, Gabe, switch.” She didn’t wait for an answer, just began scooting. He watched her with those eyes. Sometimes when he looked at her she felt like she was dinner for the hawk searching for a field mouse. Leaning up, he shifted over as she scooted under him. His head scuffed the top of the car and he mumbled. Laughing, she smiled at him as he settled in the other seat. “I would have preferred doing that little move flipped around.” Kally wiggled her eyebrows at him, making him smile. She was shocked at herself. She was having such fun with him. Not the serious agent façade she was used to

maintaining. But with him, she was starting to feel like she needed to be that way. Her father would be appalled, but frankly she just didn’t care anymore. “Did you wiggle your eyebrows at me? Man, I need to call Jo.” He grabbed his phone. Kally leapt forward and snatched the phone from his hands. “You will not. I didn’t wiggle my eyebrows.” She reached up and scratched her brow. “I had an itch.” “You did not.” He tried to grab the phone back. They ended up in a tug-a-war. “I did.” Laughing, she won and swung her arm in the air holding his phone up so he couldn’t reach it. Jumping forward he caged her in with his arms. “Give me my phone back,” he warned inching closer. “No. Besides it’s four thirty a.m., you can’t call her this early.” “Oh you don’t think she’s up getting ready for some operation?” Kally looked left, thinking, then back to meet his ice green gaze. She loved his eyes. “Okay, well maybe.” She took a breath. He was way too close, she could smell him. He had a spicy aftershave and his own unique scent, and combined it drove her toward insanity. She wanted to taste him, in the worst way. Glancing at his lips, she licked hers. “Don’t do that,” he said following the path of her tongue with his smoldering green eyes. “What?” Dropping her arm, she forgot all about the phone. “Don’t…” He moved within a whisper of her lips. “You’re killing me.” She almost laughed, but before she could say anything he claimed her, literally. Swooping in, his lips dropped down and took. Immediately, she responded. Dropping the phone, her hands lost themselves in his hair. Silky, his hair was so soft. She kneaded his head, tilted hers and accepted him. When the kiss broke, she was breathless. Her heart pounded, her chest heaved to suck in some much needed air. Excited, that’s what she was, excited. This was how she always dreamed of feeling with a man. Oh God, she was really in trouble. Growling, he reached down and grabbed his phone then slid back to his side of the car. “Okay, maybe a nap is a good idea right now. Yell if someone comes out. Camera’s right here.” He pointed to the floor. “No worries. Sweet dreams.” **** Gabe was racing, running for the door. Reaching, he tried to open it. It wouldn’t budge. “Hey, SWAT man. Let me show you what it feels like.” Gabe pivoted. The world was moving in slow motion. Pointing a gun at him, his latest victim laughed then pulled the trigger. Gabe tensed then screamed when the bullet ripped through his heart. Looking down, all he could see was a huge bloody hole where his heart should have been. “That’s what it feels like.” “Gabe?”

He jerked awake. His hand fell down to clutch his chest but fell onto Kally’s. Hers were there already, caressing him. “You okay? Nightmare?” “What?” Running a hand through his hair, Gabe realized he was wet with perspiration. These nightmares, God, they made him want to delve into the bottle again. Christ, he was thinking about that too much lately. He needed to pull himself together; maybe he needed to go to a meeting sooner than he thought. Ten years, it had been ten years since he hit rock bottom. What was going on? “Have a nightmare about the shooting?” As she talked, she gently stroked his chest. It felt good, soothing, as if she eliminated the pain of the dream with the brush of her fingers. It was strange, he never relied on anyone’s help to get past his demons, but with her it was different. “Um, not sure.” She ran her hand down his brow. It took him about three seconds to realize he was already half in love with her. He returned the caress. Running his hand into her hair, he touched her cheek with his thumb. “My prize,” he murmured. That’s what she was. She called him a gift, but it was the other way around. She was his prize. She was his reward for a life of service, a life of doing for others. He almost didn’t feel worthy of her. The sensation was this little nagging prickle at the back of his mind, left over from his youth. A feeling bred into him from the beatings of his childhood… the voices whispered… you’re not good enough to take your place in the white man’s world. “I’d like to keep you,” he said. She laughed and laid her cheek against his. “Uh huh, think you need more sleep.” She leaned back and smiled. “Okay?” she asked, running her finger along his jaw. She touched his lips with the tip of her finger, yet he saw a flicker in her eyes when she drew back. He briefly wondered what it was about. “Yeah, I’m okay.” “Looks like our girl is up.” Tilting her head, she nodded toward the house and moved back into the other seat. Gabe sighed, he would have much rather had her straddling and touching him than chase around a bunch of criminals. “Yep, looks like they’re on the move. Follow them.” He grabbed the camera. “Meanwhile, let’s see who’s still at the house.” He dialed dispatch. “Dispatch, S-1 can you make a pretext call to this address, see what you get, 549 Alpine Rd?” “Sure, Gabe,” the radio operator purred. Gabe could feel the flush rising up his neck. With Kally occupied starting the car, he hoped she hadn’t heard. “She’s got it bad for you.” No such luck. He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck and kept quiet. “S-1, no answer.” “Thanks dispatch.” “Sure thing, sweet cheeks.” Embarrassed, he laid the radio on his lap. “There’s our answer. Don’t think our boy is there.” “I agree. Something else is going on here. Who’s that guy?”

Walking to the car with Clarice was the same man from the previous day. Getting in the driver’s side, he yelled for her. She had a child with her, maybe four or five years old, and she pushed the little girl into the back seat before jumping in the front. “Not a very warm and fuzzy relationship,” she commented. “Sure isn’t.” “How old is her relationship with your suspect?” He snapped a couple photos of the couple. “About five years old.” “His baby’s mamma?” She knew what he was asking. “Might be.” * “Okay take us to papa,” Gabe said. Kally smiled at his comment. Passionate, he was so passionate about his work, about everything he did. Yes, definitely one of the things she really liked about him. Made her wonder what making love with him would be like. She shook her head, trying to get it back into present. Holding back, she trailed the other car. “Looks like daycare is the first stop.” Jumping out, Clarice ran into the house with the child then back to the car. The couple appeared to argue then the man gunned the car and squealed off. Following them for a while, Kally hung back as he slowed at a convenience store. He pulled in and Clarice ran to the pay phone. They watched her make two calls. “Now this is interesting.” Gabe swore and began searching his pockets. Kally pulled a baby notepad with an attached pen from hers and held them out to him. “Now there’s my girl. Always organized, always prepared, that’s what Jo told me.” She grinned. “You had me worried with that head banging, drop everything act when we first met,” he teased. “That, was not an act,” she said before pointing to the phone. “Go mark that phone.” Glancing over, he checked to make sure Clarice was still talking. Then he turned back and flashed her a Cheshire cat smile. God he was handsome when he smiled, goddamn stunning. “Rattled you, didn’t I?” She shook her head. “No.” She sat up straighter in the seat. “Did too.” He sang it out as if it were a nursery rhyme. “You did not.” “Did.” She pointed to the phone that Clarice had left. “Mark it, smart ass.” Leaning over he gave her a quick peck to the cheek. “We will discuss this later.” She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Go, Gabe.” As soon as Clarice jumped back into the car, Gabe slid out as if he were on a Sunday stroll. He was incredible, all sinew and grace. He moved like a jungle cat on the prowl, smooth and quiet. She loved to watch him. Efficiently he grabbed the number off the phone and placed a call to a common number

to mark it for later, if they decided to pull the records. He documented the time, so it would be easy to see who Clarice was calling. Maybe she would lead them right to Riely. Jumping back into the car, he shoved the notepad back into her pocket. “Go.” He didn’t need to say it twice. She roared off, catching up to their Mustang and positioned herself three cars back, so they wouldn’t see her. They pulled up to a building. “This is where employment records showed she worked.” “Okay so mamma’s off to work, let’s see where the live-in’s going,” he said. The Mustang took several turns then headed into the seedy side of downtown. “Not such a good area.” She tucked behind a van to conceal her car. “Nope, you got that right.” As he slowed, she did as well, pulling to the curb several cars back. The suspect stopped at the corner. A scruffy man ran out, handed him a white baggie, collected the cash and ran back to the corner. “Drug deal?” she wondered out load. “Looks like it. Let him go. I just found a way to find out who he is, the easy way. Let’s go.” Hopping out of the car, she lagged behind Gabe, letting him take the lead. This was his turf and she trusted him completely. “Go with me here, but don’t take any notes—yet,” he said, approaching the scruffy man. She shoved the notebook back in her pocket. Gabe gave her a hand signal. Following his silent request, she circled around the man from behind to keep him from escaping. Approaching from the front, Gabe latched onto his arm. This was a different Gabe, the one with his law enforcement hat on. Dangerous Gabe. “Hey Mooch, what’s happening? Should you be selling drugs on the street? Isn’t that a violation of your probation? The man he called Mooch screamed and tried to rip his arm out of Gabe’s iron grip. “Going somewhere Mooch?” Gabe twisted his arm in a wristlock, turned him around and wrapped the other around the man’s throat, squeezing slightly on his carotid artery. He could easily kill him that way. With enough pressure on that artery, the man would be done. Oh yeah, this Gabe could kill without a blink. The transformation was so complete it was shocking. She had never seen him like this before. With her, he was so gentle, almost loving. Mooch squeaked, “Blackhawk, man, come on man, give me a break. Man’s got to make a living.” “Meet my partner, Mooch, FBI Special Agent Voker.” Facing Mooch toward her, he shoved him a step forward. “Say hello.” “Hi,” Mooch grunted. “Tell her the name of the man who just left here. Keeping in mind anything you say, can and will be used against you in a court of law. Oh and you have the right to remain silent and have an attorney.” “What! He’ll kill me…” he choked when Gabe applied pressure to his Adam’s apple. “Tell her.” “Fuck you, Indian.”

“Tell her, Mooch, or I’m hauling you in for probation violations, right now.” Mooch nodded. “Okay, okay, let me go man. Shit, ease up.” Gabe eased up on his windpipe. “Now, take notes,” Gabe commanded. She pulled out her notebook and waited. “He’s a mercenary for hire. Came in from New York.” “And?” Gabe squeezed and Mooch choked. “Okay, Okay, and… “ Sucking in an audible breath, he spilled, “he’s an expert in getting supplies, his name is Devlin, Harry Devlin, they call him the Devil. He’s got a bad heroin habit. It’s good money.” “What kind of supplies?” “Christ.” “What kind of supplies, Mooch?” Gabe yelled the last sentence. Kally tensed, he was even scaring her. “Okay, Okay, he gets stuff… like plastics… you know C-4 explosives, weapons, electronics, that kind of stuff.” “Bomb stuff?” Gabe supplied. “Yeah.” He released Mooch’s neck and pushed him face first against a nearby car, where he searched him. He began pulling items out of his pockets, looked like more drugs, some brown clumps of something that looked like beef bullion cubes, a knife, some cash. He handed each item to her. “I catch you here again, I will arrest you.” Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out a card and handed it to Mooch. “Go here, they will give you shelter, get you de-toxed again and get you a job. I’m going to check that you’re there Mooch. Don’t fuck this up. One more strike and you’re out. Think your daughter wants to grow up without her father?” “No,” Mooch wiped his nose, tears forming in his eyes. “It’s tough out here, man.” Gabe slapped him on the shoulder, almost with affection. It was amazing he could go from such a dangerous threat to a friend. “I know, Mooch. Stay off the white shit and you’ll be fine. They’ll help you at the shelter and they will call me if you don’t show up. Don’t blow this one, Mooch. Your daughter is six, she needs her daddy.” Gabe’s voice softened. Dropping his head, Mooch nodded. Kally watched as he began to shake. She felt empathy for the man, but knew junkies could turn in a second. “Okay, Gabe. I’ll go.” “Good.” Strolling back to the car, Gabe settled his arm around her shoulders as if they were a couple. “Just want to seem casual for the crowd.” He explained as he steered her toward the car. She glanced over her shoulder. He was right a small crowd had formed. “That, Detective, was a scary display of local police techniques. If I did what you just did, I’d be fired.” “That’s exactly why I’m not a Fed and you are. Got your info didn’t I?” “Will he go to the shelter?” Gabe glanced toward the sidewalk where Mooch had departed; she could see the worry in his expression.

“Probably not. I’ll call his probation officer, have him come and pick him up if he doesn’t.” “Sad.” “Yeah, sad, our system. This is the best it gets on the street. The prisons are so over crowded, probably wouldn’t have done any good for me to haul him in today. Beating an addiction like he has with all the problems he carries, is near impossible. Let’s go run this guy out, see what we can dig up. Tomorrow, we can pick up the surveillance at the house. He seems settled there. I’ve got to log the drugs and cash into evidence. Wouldn’t want any anal, by-the-book fed reporting I stole evidence.” “Did Jo call me that?” He raised a single eyebrow. As they walked, she bumped him with her hip. “You need to tell me everything she said.” He snorted. “Right and risk Jo’s wrath, I don’t think so.” The arm he had wrapped around her felt good, he felt good, with his body pressed close. It was as if they had known each other a lifetime. So strange… With him, she was relaxed. After the initial first meeting and her scatterbrained reaction, she settled in with him as if she’d come home. When he had reassured her, in the car, touched her that first time… it was as if a hundred pounds lifted from her shoulders. She could be herself with him. She felt freed from the chains holding her down all these years. Where were all her doubts, she wondered, the ones that should be whispering in her ear every minute she was with him. She shook her head in awe; her misgivings were quickly fading away as if there wasn’t enough memory to store them anymore. Maybe there wasn’t, she thought. Maybe it was time for her to release the inner worry of her father’s disapproval and start to live her own life, free of burdens. Snaking her arm around his waist, she matched his steps. “Jo got mad at me once.” She remembered it well. “Oh yeah? Tell me.” “It was ugly. We went on a raid together. I was new, had to work fugitives for a week, get to know the streets. We were clearing a crack house, tracking one of her fugitives. Ran into him. He pulled a gun on me, and I disarmed him before he could blink his eyes. After we finished the arrest, Jo pulled me aside and told me I better damn well be sure the subject’s not going to shoot first before I ever try that move again. I told her I was sure, or I wouldn’t have done it in the first place. She had simply nodded, but she was mad. She didn’t talk to me for the rest of the week.” Getting into the car, Gabe shook his head. “You’re incredible.” “Thanks.” They settled in, Gabe driving this time. “I don’t like the way this case is falling out. Sounds like he might be planning another bombing.” Kally nodded, “I agree.” “I’m going to call a couple buddies I have on the bomb squad, bring them in. Get more people on the surveillance detail.” “Sounds good.” “Let’s go see what information the Devil brings us.”

Shivers crept up her spine. Gabe was right, she didn’t like the way the case was heading either. “You have enough for a search warrant on that house?” Kally shook her head. “Not right now. The AUSA wouldn’t touch it, not without placing him there. So far all I’ve got is one phone call, an elevated utility bill, some Internet activity at a Starbucks, and maybe a former felon staying there. Not enough for the Feds.” “Shit. All right, let’s keep digging. I’ll get a state warrant for the phone records on that public phone back there. See where she’s calling.” “Let me call the Boise FBI office and see if I can get a couple agents watching the Starbucks, since we’ve come up empty here.” “Okay, then we’ll grab a few hours sleep before we sit on the house again.” She grabbed her phone as he was dialing his. Time to start calling in reinforcements with the case getting so complicated. They never seem to go the way you want them to, she thought.

Chapter Eight Kally leaned against the door and reflected on the day, ticking off all they had accomplished in her mind to ensure they hadn’t missed anything. All in all, it had been really productive. Gabe was so easy to work with. He did his job with a zest for life, like he did everything. He had one of his guys grab a warrant for the phone records and fax it to the phone company. Now, they waited for the records but they should have them by tomorrow. She was able to talk a couple of the new Boise FBI agents into watching the Starbucks for Riely. Harry Devlin had a record a mile long, currently out on probation, he would be easy to pick up—even better if they could catch him with Riely. Associating with a known felon and fugitive would give them leeway. Everything was falling together nicely. Right now, they took a much-needed rest, and tried to refuel. Clarice and Riely had bedded down for the night. Part of Gabe’s gang squad watched the house. Kally realized, on this kind of case, they needed rest or they would be no good. There would be a point where sleep would become a second priority. Now was a good time to catch up. They had everything covered. Shirtless and wearing sweat pants riding low on his hips, Gabe lounged on his couch, feet resting on the coffee table, the remote in his hands. He flipped through channels, intent on a show for about thirty seconds then moved on. With the other hand he ate pizza. So typically male, his actions, but— God he is sexy. Despite the black and blue bruise on his chest, he was incredibility built. Every time he raised the remote and flipped the channel, his muscles flexed, tensed, the veins stood out on his arms. He wasn’t huge, like a steroid induced body builder. He was dark, hard, and defined with not an ounce of fat. Kally’s heart sped up as she studied him. Loose, his hair fell to his shoulders, it was pure black, shiny, like she pictured in her mind a Native American’s hair would be. When she had touched it, she didn’t want to let go. And those eyes, so striking, alluring, she thought. Aroused, Kally let her body talk to her. He attracted her, in a way she had never experienced. And what a man he was, so sweet when he was with her, but with his men he was in charge, a born leader. He reminded her of a warrior, one you might see fighting for his people and leading them to victory. “Hey.” He finally noticed her and grabbed another piece of pizza, holding it up he asked, “Want a piece?” Coming into the room, she plopped on the couch, lifted her feet and set them on the table next to his. Taking the pizza, she bit in and groaned. “I’d kill for a good glass of wine right now.” She felt him tense next to her and wondered what it was about. He paused for a moment then laughed. It was a strange exchange. “No doubt, on duty.” She moaned, “I know.” Her joking seemed to relax him.

“Later, after this case is over,” he grabbed a napkin and dabbed the corner of her mouth, “would you go out with me?” Kally looked at him. Was he for real? Here they had made out together, she was practically living with him and he was asking her out on a date. “I’m serious.” Setting the pizza down, she gave him her full attention. “I believe you are.” “The situation we’re in, it’s hard to be normal. We face death every day. Sometimes, when I think of it, I realize there could be no tomorrow for me. Makes me…” He rubbed his chest, “—sometimes do rash things.” “Like kissing me?” His green gaze dropped. “Don’t say you might not be around tomorrow. Don’t ever say that, Gabe,” she whispered, as she laid a hand over his on his chest. “It’s true.” “I don’t care, I…” she leaned in and kissed him. No excuses, simply mated her lips with his. His hand came up and tangled in her hair. She drew back. “I feel so remarkable with you, as if I’ve known you my entire life.” “Mate connection.” Tugging her hair, he brought her back to his lips, his tongue rimmed her mouth, then he opened his mouth and kissed her like she had never been kissed before, so intimate, so wonderful. Her lips clung to his as he pulled back. “Huh?” “My people would say we have a mate connection, you and I.” “Really, we just met.” “Doesn’t matter,” he whispered, as he began to undo the buttons on her shirt, one at a time. The fabric slipped open. “It’s immediate and strong, this bond, and once formed it can never be broken.” “Uh huh,” she moaned when his lips connected with her collarbone. He licked then sucked her neck. She arched into him. Oh God, his touch, his smell, fire crawled up her spine to her belly. She heated from the inside out. Sweat began to form on her brow. “Let me show you, Kally, how good it can be between us.” “Just met… better not… working together…” Her voice trailed off when he leaned forward and pushed her shirt off her shoulders to pool around her waist. “Doesn’t matter,” he said again as he reached around her and undid her bra, slipping it off. “Will you let me show you?” “Ahhh.” She moaned when he licked her breasts. One at a time, her nipples peaked in arousal. She tingled. Her body was trembling in excitement. She wanted him, needed him. “God, yes, Gabe show me. Yesss.” He took her nipple into his mouth and sucked. Scooting around, he pushed the table out of the way, and settled his knees on the floor. Poised between her legs, he worshiped her breasts again, one at a time. Slipping his hand into the small of her back, he bowed her body into his mouth and feasted. “Oh God.” She clutched at his shoulders. She couldn’t think anymore, only feel, heat pooled between her legs, they fell open and cradled his body. Nudging closer, he pressed

his hardness against her. She cried out, there was a need so deep inside her, she thought she would burst. “Gabe!” she gasped, her hands traveled down his back and pressed at the waistband of his sweats. Barely breaking contact with her mouth, he reached down and slipped them off. His erection sprang free, begging her to touch it. He was brown all over, a beautiful shade of nutmeg. His lips walked down her body, his hands working on her pants. She was surprised to see they were trembling, fumbling, cute to see him finally so out of control. A bead of perspiration dripped lazily down the side of his face, and she could see his pulse dancing against his neck. She smiled. “Help me,” he begged as his fingers tangled in her pants. Reaching down, she gently pushed his hands aside and helped him remove her remaining clothing, piece by piece. Naked, she made eye contact with him as he inched forward. “Mine,” he growled, slipping his hands under her he lifted her into him, and her legs fell apart as he slowly entered her. Kally’s head dropped back as she took him in. She moaned in pleasure, beautiful it was so beautiful. She closed her eyes in bliss. “Kally, look at me. You’re mine. Watch us, watch us come together.” Dropping her head down she did as he asked, on his knees before her, their contrast—her lily white to his light brown—the difference between them was so erotic. Kally felt thoroughly claimed by him. “Yours,” she said panting, the sensations making her heart pound. Wrapping her legs around him she held on. Then he moved, sliding in and out, sending her body out of control, climbing to the top and waiting for the fall. Folding his arms around her, he held her to him, and rode her, until she couldn’t see beyond him, beyond the feelings he created. “Gabe,” she gasped as she spun toward the top, reaching. “Yesss, Kally, God, Ohkiimaan come with me.” His hips pumped, he strained further in. Grabbing her, his hands fisting on her hips, he clutched her tighter as he drove toward his release. His pleasure enhanced hers. Kissing her, his tongue plunged, matching the rhythm of his hips. She gasped, took in his tongue, touched it with hers and sucked, loving him, wanting him to enjoy. She couldn’t hold on, the tingle started at the base of her spine and traveled up, making her body bow into his. “Ahhhh!” She exploded, and cried out, his groan matched hers as he buried his face in her neck, joining her. Beautiful, she watched him, his body jerking against hers, taking his satisfaction. Incredible. Her body felt boneless, her forehead fell against his, her legs slid down onto his ass. Panting, he kissed her neck then rubbed his cheek against hers. His face was rough, he hadn’t shaved, and she enjoyed the contrast. Rubbing his back, she wrapped her arms around him and moved her head in the curve of his neck. She loved his smell, that spicy male scent. “Oh yeah.” She leaned back and looked at him, wondering what he was talking about. “Oh yeah, what?” she asked. He had a sleepy sexy look about him. He appeared content, yet something—. She squealed when he lifted her into his arms, effortlessly. “Oh yeah, that wasn’t enough.” “Huh?” She was almost beyond thinking, so satisfied, ready to snuggle down and sleep. He started toward the bedroom.

“We’ll need to do that again. Not enough.” “Not enough?” She grabbed his neck when he picked up the pace. Tucking her head back under his neck carefully to avoid his wound, she closed her eyes. “Not nearly enough. Agent Voker, when I’m finished with you tonight, you’ll have no doubts who you belong to.” Kally rolled her eyes. Men. They were so Neanderthal. But the way he said it, the way he talked, excited her. Something deep inside her liked it. “I have no doubts. I never do anything unless I’m sure, remember.” Laying her on the bed, he followed her down. “Well just in case. Let me remind you.” **** “Hey.” Gabe ran his hand down Kally’s hip. He loved the shape of her waist, curved with a slight indentation. His eyes followed his hands as he shoved the blanket off her body. Her skin was so light to his dark, different than the women in his life growing up. He always expected he would mate within his tribe, to a proper, Native American, Blackfoot woman. He never dreamed someone like Agent Kally Voker would drop into his life. It didn’t matter, she was his, and he claimed her as such. To his people, this commitment was as close to marriage as a Native American could be without actually saying the vows. “What time is it?” Stretching against him like a cat, she mewed. Instantly, Gabe’s body hardened, ready to claim its mate again. Wasn’t enough, he didn’t think he would ever get enough. “It’s early still, go back to sleep.” She needed her rest, and he needed to get a little control back. Twice he had taken them to a place he had never been. And he was ready again. “Ummm.” Moaning, she curved into his body, her hand coming out to stroke his chest, traveling down, until she held his hardness. “I’m not ready to go back to sleep yet,” she said sleepily. He chuckled, the fatigue in her voice was evident, but he stopped laughing when she curled her hand around him and stroked. All of a sudden, sleep was the furthest thing from his mind. “That will ensure neither of us gets any sleep.” “Good,” she whispered as her lips grazed his neck and then she sucked. He groaned, tugging her hard against his body. “Ahhh, Kally.” Busy, her lips continued their assault. Using her weight she pushed him on his back and he went over willingly, burying his hands in her hair as she licked, kissed and nibbled her way down his body. “Your body is incredible.” Gabe arched when her tongue touched his hardness and she made love to him with her lips. Touching and licking, she feasted on him. “Kally, I can’t…” Grabbing her, he yanked her up and flipped her. “Gabe,” she moaned as he worked up her body, touching every soft spot he could find. He took her lips, tongue dancing with hers. When he eased his assault to let her breathe, she was panting and her body had taken on a rosy flush. He could feel the pounding of her heart against his chest.

“Gabe, I can’t explain this. I feel this strong connection with you, like we were always meant to be together. It sounds hokey crazy, I know.” Shaking his head he leaned over and claimed her breast, feeling his way around with his tongue. “I feel it too. It’s not crazy.” She sighed and did that little arch thing with her back that he loved. Positioning her legs around him, he slipped in, slowly savoring her, feeling her to the depths of his soul. He wanted to climb inside her and never leave. He needed her to fly with him. Sliding in and out, he held back, waiting, longing. He would never quench this thirst he had for her. He let her experience the depth of his feelings with the thrusts of his body. Reaching above her head, he clasped her palms to his. “You think you’re crazy now, Kally?” “Noooo.” He smiled and waited for that hitch in her breath, waited and wanted. Burning, he felt it and released his control, tumbling over the edge with her. “I’m really happy right now,” he whispered. Touching her face he wiped a tear from her eye. “You okay?” Worried, he turned her to the side and caressed her face. “Incredible.” “Incredible in a good way?” She laughed and ran her finger down his cheek, “Yes, in a very good way.” Clasping her hand, he laid it on his heart. “You’re there, Kally, in my heart.” She smiled sleepily and snuggled against him. He could get used to the feeling of this woman tucked against his body every day of his life. “Can you sleep now?” He tucked her into his side, loving the feel of her against him. “I think so,” her words trailed off. He smiled and circled his arms around her. Closing his eyes, he dreamed of her, instead of the faces of the dead and the sleek glass neck of a beer bottle. His woman.

Chapter Nine “What ya got? Anything?” Morning had dawned much earlier than Kally wanted. They’d spent it sitting on Clarice’s house. Besides taking her to work, Harry hadn’t gone anywhere. They decided to break off for a while. At the station, Kally got her hands on the phone records. Trying to massage some of the kinks from her neck, Kally kneaded the sore muscles. Knocking her hands out of the way, Gabe’s came up behind her, his grip replacing hers. She moaned in pleasure. She was tired. Not much sleep had occurred last night. And with Gabe touching her, reasonable thought flew out the window. Warm, wonderful memories filled her brain. Memories of this sexy man, a warm bed, and a long incredible night. “No, nothing yet, I just started. I’m going to run a few of these numbers through the public directory, see what comes back.” “I see you have the lists going.” Kally tapped a pencil on her organized lists. Unfortunately, arranging her thoughts wasn’t working this time. Gabe had ruined her. She was too relaxed. “Yeah, but they’re not working.” Kneeling down, he moved around to make eye contact with her. His hair was down today; usually he wore it in a ponytail, but today it fell around his shoulders. Unable to help herself, she touched it, tucked it behind his ear, let her finger trail down his neck. His eyes flared and she recognized the expression. He didn’t say anything, just ate her up with fire in his eyes. Passionate, so hot-blooded, she knew he would be like that and she hadn’t been disappointed. “I’ve got this SWAT thing to do, shouldn’t be more than a couple hours, little training session I committed to teaching. Any news from Starbucks?” “Hasn’t shown there.” Setting his hand on her knee, he squeezed. She placed her hand on top of his, hiding them from public view. Gently he flipped his hand over so their palms met. They had made love like that last night, her hands clasped in his, so intimate. “Okay, gonna go.” He ran his thumb over her palm. Shivering, she captured his thumb, meeting it with her own, playing with his. He turned her on. In the middle of his office…he was driving her crazy. Wasn’t a good idea for them to show public affection like this, wasn’t professional. It would make them both look bad if someone thought they had more than a business relationship. “Okay, see ya later.” “K.” He didn’t move, his hand continued playing with hers. She smiled. Sometimes when he was like this…rattled…she enjoyed the simple power of being a woman. “Man, you smell good,” he growled. She laughed and released his hand. “Better go.” “Yeah. Yeah. All right. See ya.” He started to walk away. He had the nicest ass she had every seen on a man, tight and muscular. Last night, she explored every inch of it. “Gabe?” He turned.

“Stay safe out there.” He’d told her last night, that was his parting statement to all law enforcement professionals. He nodded and left. Kally sighed and turned toward the computer, intent on finding out who Clarice had called. From her list, she found the time and the number Gabe had marked the phone with. Typing it into the public directory, she was surprised to see it belonged to The Woman’s Clinic. Jotting down the address, she typed in the next number. Cellular phone, disposable, like the kind you could buy at any convenience store. She started to work it out in her head. Probably Riely’s, she circled the number for the future. Didn’t do her any good as far as subscriber info, however it did give her a phone to track cellular sites, should she need to. Likely, the last investigative technique she would use, unless she really needed it. Besides, she didn’t have enough yet for the warrant. Deciding to check out the clinic, she grabbed her jacket, “Len,” she checked with the front desk sergeant, “Got a undercover car I can use?” “Sure, Kally.” He grabbed a set of keys from under the desk and handed them to her. “Brown Taurus in the back, Alpha 6 is dispatch, should be set.” “Thanks.” “No problem. Want me to tell Gabe where you went?” Jotting down the address Kally handed it to him. “Here you go. He’s teaching a class right now. Didn’t want to bother him.” “Okay, no problem.” With directions from Len, it didn’t take long to find the clinic. It was large and construction on the side told her they were expanding. It was a nice neighborhood and seemingly quiet. There was a jogger running down the sidewalk with his dog. Kally didn’t notice anything unusual. She got out of the car and went inside. The clinic was tastefully decorated in a soft blue. Busy, the waiting room was full, a woman’s child played with a large plastic puzzle. Kally waited her turn to speak to the receptionist. Asking for the manager, she showed her FBI identification. “Do you know this woman?” Kally pulled out the picture of Clarice Jake. “No, I sure don’t.” Grabbing the photo of Dane Riely, she held it out. “This man?” Studying the picture, the woman nodded. “Sure, he’s one of the new contractors working on the new south east addition. He’s the architect, I think.” Kally straightened. She didn’t like the sound of that. “He said he needed to take the building inspector around. He came by with another man.” Kally grabbed the photo of Harry Devlin. “Was this the man?” “Right, that was him. Kind of intense looking but he had on a uniform, looked okay.” “When was the last time you saw them?” “Oh they are here now, in the back, doing the inspection.” Kally’s heart began pumping, her vision tunneled and her thoughts spun.

“Is there anyone else back there, any crew?” “No. They had to leave for the inspection, city building code requirement.” “Get everyone out of the building—now. Call the police, tell them you have a possible bomb threat. Tell them Special Agent Voker is on the scene and armed.” The woman appeared confused. Kally yelled, “Now! Do it now!” Holding her badge in the air, she made the announcement she was sure would start havoc. “I’m Special Agent Voker, from the FBI. This is not a drill. I need everyone out of the building, right now. There is a bomb in the building. Don’t panic, but do it now.” People started toward the door in a rush. “Don’t panic.” She yelled again as she helped guide some of the children out the front door. The group slowed a bit, but she could still feel the sense of urgency within them. She felt that same pressure. She pointed to the manager. “Get everyone from the back.” She immediately complied, realizing Kally was serious. Within minutes, everyone was clear. Kally drew her weapon. She tried to clamp down on her natural panic to flee the situation and make a list of what needed to be done in her head. She’d left her dispatch radio in the car, and she didn’t have the dispatch direct number. They would get the word soon enough. She felt this sense of demanding urgency to find out what the hell Riely and Devlin were up to. She had a good idea, planting another bomb. She sucked in a breath and eased it out trying to slow the hammering of her heart. She felt calm, dead calm. Her training kicked in and she knew what needed to be done. Cautiously, she made her way into the construction wing. Plastic fell from the ceiling, separating the rooms. It smelled like new paint, large pieces of sheet rock leaned against the wall. No one was around; it was obvious they were in the final stages of construction. She could hear the sirens on their way. If she didn’t hurry, the suspects would get spooked and run. Coming around the corner, gun drawn, she saw him. “FBI, get your hands up. Do it now!” she yelled, recognizing Riely immediately. Slowly he stood and raised his hands in the air. Pivoting, she tried to keep an eye behind her realizing Devlin was around somewhere. “Turn around.” He complied. “Get on you knees, spread you legs wide, put your hands on your head. Don’t move!”“ “Okay.” He seemed to calm and Kally glanced around, worried that Devlin was somewhere. She needed to get Riely cuffed. He appeared to have been working with some sort of device, and if she wasn’t mistaken, it was a bomb. She sidestepped, slowly inching her way closer. She grabbed her cuffs from her waist. The blood rushing to her head gave her a strange tranquil feeling and she tried to keep her breathing even. This was such a dangerous situation. She needed to get him under control, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized there was another threat she couldn’t manage right now. She needed to take care of Riely. She tried to distract him, so he wouldn’t think about what she was doing. “How are you today, Mr. Riely?” She positioned her cuffs in the proper position. “Oh I’m fine Agent Voker and tickled pink to finally meet you in person. This is a great moment. I wish it was under better circumstances.”

“Do you? What are you up to here?” Kally glanced around him to see what he had been working with. Definitely looked like some sort of bomb. “Oh not much really, making another statement is all. You understand about making statements, right Agent Voker? How important it is to leave your mark on a situation?” Kally felt a shiver ease down her spine. She reached for his hand to cuff him, but before she could secure the pinch hold, something hit her from behind. She fell to her knees. She felt as if someone had spit open her head and she cried out as the cuffs dropped to the ground. It was as if the entire episode was happening in slow motion and she was only an actor outside herself watching from above. That was her final thought before another hit sent her into oblivion. **** Dane fingered Kally’s hair. Like he thought, soft, silky. He was excited to finally be so close to her. She smelled good, a flower scent, unique, like her. He should have guessed she’d smell that way. He knew she would follow him. He left enough clues, and he wanted this moment to come, when they would be united. He slid his finger along her jaw. She moaned. Tilting his head, he leaned closer. He dreamed of being this close to her. It must have been the first time he followed her when he decided he wanted her. Then she began stalking him, making a nuisance of herself and that annoyed him. His desire turned to anger. He should have taken her out long before now, but he wasn’t ready and the internal battle aggravated him. How could he want and hate someone at the same time and with such passion? She was his nemesis. Dane winced when Devlin stuck a syringe in her arm. “Is that necessary?” “Yeah, don’t worry. It will keep her down a little while. Well…I think so anyway. You own me big for this shit, it’s expensive.” “Let’s get the hell out of here.” Dane made a few adjustments and rigged Kally to the bomb. **** Simultaneously, the sound of pagers beeping bounced off the walls of the classroom. Gabe grabbed the digital, reading it. SWAT call out, bomb threat, Women’s Clinic. “Let’s go boys.” Most everyone from his team was in the class. They scrambled, heading for the ready room to get their gear. Gabe met up with the Chief Armstrong as he got ready. “What we got, Chief?” “Bomb threat, Women’s Clinic. Called in by the manager, she said Agent Voker told her to call the police that she was on scene and armed.” Gabe paused for a millisecond in pure terror then continued to gear up. Pulling on his protective hood, he grabbed his helmet. God, Kally, what the hell is going on? “Let’s go,” he yelled, which got him some looks. He rarely yelled. His team knew him to be calm under pressure. Leading the group, they hopped into the SWAT truck. The bomb squad followed.

Gabe clasped his hands together in worry to keep from wringing them. The drive to the clinic was killing him. Every second ticked on his last nerve. I need to stay calm… I need to stay calm for her. I’m no good unless I can think straight. Arriving on scene, Gabe jumped out of the truck. Armstrong was already there. A crowd had formed outside the building, a wave of people in panic scramble; some paced, others crying, a few were sitting on the curb with a blank stares on their faces. “What’s the situation?” Gabe asked. “About twenty minutes ago, manager says Agent Voker approached her with some photographs. She identified two men from the photographs and told Agent Voker one was the architect for the new wing, and the other was the building inspector. They were on site doing the inspection. As soon as she told Agent Voker this, Agent Voker told her to call the police, to notify them she was on the scene and armed, then she cleared the building. That’s all I know, Gabe.” Gabe nodded and pulled his cellular phone from his pocket. Dialing Kally’s cell, he didn’t think he had ever been so frightened in his life. “Hello.” Gabe’s heart dropped when a male answered the phone. “Hello, this is Detective Blackhawk, Boise Police Department. Where is Agent Voker?” “Oh Detective Blackhawk, I assume you’re at the building with my latest bomb.” There was a note of pride in the voice. Gabe tried to stay unruffled, but he began to suspect the worst. “Well, Detective, I’ve left a little prize in that building. It’s full of this long blond hair, very beautiful, and very dead, in about five minutes. You better hurry.” Gabe didn’t wait. He ran toward the building, keying the radio as he went. “Everyone back from the building. We have a bomb. I repeat, we have a bomb, clear the area.” Cars began to scramble away from the building. Armstrong yelled for him to get back but Gabe ignored him. “I’ll hang up now Detective, but enjoy my work.” Gabe pocketed the phone on the run. Scared almost to the level of panic, he tore into the new wing, and came skidding to a halt. Sitting in a chair was Kally, tied up and wired to some sort of bomb with a timer that said five minutes. Unconscious, her head lolled to the side. She appeared connected to the bomb. He was sure moving her would set off an explosion. Oh my God. His worse fear realized, heart frozen, he tried to move his fingers but they were slow to cooperate. He fingered his radio, “Armstrong, we have a situation here. I want everyone cleared away from the building. I have confirmed a device, a bomb, looks like maybe C-4, liquid in a glass vial on top a digital timer and looks like wired for motion. I need the bomb tech on the line.” “Blackhawk, get out of the building.” “No time to argue, Chief. Get Arnie on the COM.” As the primary bomb technician, he had briefed Arnie on Kally’s case. Arnie had studied the schematics of the bomber’s technique.

Watching the timer tick away, Gabe lowered himself to the bare floor. It was powdered with a light film of construction dust, bare wood not yet carpeted. He crawled up gently to the bomb, careful to not jar anything. Inspecting all the components, sweat began drip down his face; he wasn’t a bomb tech…he only had rudimentary knowledge, he wasn’t sure he could do this, but he was willing to die trying. He would do anything to save her. Kally moaned, slowly her opening eyes. “Gabe?” Raising his voice, he tried to get her attention with his tone. “Kally, don’t move. Not at all, baby. You’re wired to a bomb, set to go off if you move.” She blinked, blinked again, then her eyes took in her situation. She saw the timer ticking to four forty two, four forty one, four forty and she seem to understand. Drugged, she looked drugged. Her eyes tried to focus on him, but kept rolling back, her pupils dilated. “Get out of here, Gabe.” “No way.” Gabe studied the device and racked his brain. He tried to calm his ragged breathing and rapidly thumping heart. Now he knew how the bomb techs felt in an unknown situation, trapped like a rabbit in a hole with dinner stamped on his head and nowhere to go. Their best bomb technician, Arnie came on the line. “Gabe, what ya got? Describe it to me the best you can.” “Bomb, C-4 maybe, a small glass vial with liquid on top of it, wired to Kally, maybe motion sensitive, five wires. One blue, red, purple, green and yellow. Four minutes on the timer.” He was as close to panicking as he could get. “Okay, big block of gray material, wires stuck directly into it?” “Yep.” “This is important, Gabe. You said five wires, is there a black wire?” Squinting Gabe saw it. “Yeah missed it, under the yellow.” “Got something to cut a wire with?” Reaching into his pocket, Gabe grabbed his pocketknife and flipped out the small scissors. He shook his head. He hoped to God this would be enough. His sense of urgency drove him on. If he didn’t act quickly, they would both be blown off the planet. “Got the best I’m going to get.” “Okay, you’re going to have to identify which wire goes to the timer. That should disable both the motion sensor and timer trigger. You probably need to cut the yellow and depending on what you find, short out the timer by touching the yellow to the black.” “Should?” Great now was a fine time for Arnie to place doubts in his head. “Sounds like he’s made this simple enough. Maybe only trying to scare us. The bomb you just described isn’t complicated. Doesn’t sound like what he’s used in the past.” Arnie had been briefed on the case, for this very reason, another bomb. Tracking the wires, Gabe found what he hoped was the one going to the timer. “Yellow’s the one that goes to the timer.” “Okay, you should be able to cut that one wire and the black, touch them together and short out the entire mechanism. Everything will stop, timer, motion sensor, everything.”

“Should again. Starting not to like that word.” Staring at the timer, he watched the seconds tick away, three minutes forty-five seconds. Time was running out and he wasn’t the least bit sure of what he was doing. For once in his life, he didn’t know if he was going to make it through alive. “Gabe, go,” Kally’s voice penetrated his concentration. Shaking his head, Gabe refused her order. “No can do, babe.” As the timer ticked down he began to pray. He could hear his harsh breaths. Gritting his teeth, he probed the yellow wire with his knife, gently lifting it to verify where it went. It appeared clear, going directly into the digital timer box. Scooting closer, he studied the box. “It sure looks like the yellow is going into the timer box.” “Okay, that’s good. I don’t know what to tell you, Gabe. There’s no other way to disarm this bomb. Not enough time. By the time I even got the explosives box in there, you would be sky high. If you move her, you could go sky high.” Wiping the sweat off his forehead, he studied the timer. It ticked its way down to less than two minutes. He glanced at Kally, she attempted valiantly to hold her head up. She failed and it dropped to her chest. He needed to let her know how he felt. “I love you, Kally.” She moaned. Squinting her eyes, she glanced at him. A single tear rolled down her cheek. “Love you…don’t die for me.” “For you, Ohkiimaan, I’ll do anything.” He grinned, hoping it would lighten the mood and not reveal to her how truly terrified he was. The timer made its way to one minute. Fingering his radio he signaled his intent. “I’m cutting the yellow and the black then touching them together. Get everyone back, Arnie.” “Got it, Gabe. Give me thirty seconds.” “That’s about all I can give you.” Positioning his scissors, he watched the timer, gauging every second. Thirty seconds began to pass, it seemed like thirty years. The sweat returned, soaking through his protective hood and dripping down his neck. This could be the end, right now, on the dusty floor of this building he could be taking his last breath and Kally as well. Strange thoughts filtered through his mind, simple thoughts, why hadn’t he called his mother this morning to say hi, now he might never have the chance. Might never be able to experience the new emotions he held deep in his heart for Kally. He glanced at her, his thoughts spinning. He didn’t want to die, didn’t want her to die. “We’re clear. Go.” Twenty seconds… Sucking a breath, he pressed down on the scissors, trying to keep them steady so he didn’t jar the bomb. Gabe jerked as a distinctive click noise emitted as he cut the wire, quickly he cut the black, and then touched the two together. It made a little popping noise then the timer went black. Squeezing his eyes shut he waited… waited… nothing. Slowly, he brought his hands out from around the bomb.

He released his breath and thanked the earth spirits of the plains. His relief couldn’t be measured; he almost passed out from it. His shoulders drooped. Now, the more important issue was at stake, getting Kally away from that bomb. “We’re clear. Bring in the box. Don’t know if there is any secondary device.” “On our way.” It took almost an hour for the techs to check the bomb and release Kally. Gabe paced anxiously as the suited up techs cautiously released the last wire holding Kally to the chair. They had asked him to go, but he would not leave her and waiting for the all clear was killing him. His hand shook as he rubbed his heart. It hurt to watch her sit there, her breath shallow and her face so pale. Every minute that passed increased his worry as her physical condition worsened. Her breath was raspy now, her body shaking. He was scared she wouldn’t make it through this. What will I do without her? It was that simple, his love for her. He couldn’t lose her. He would die if he did. He ran a trembling hand through his hair in frustration. “When the hell are you going to finish, Arnie?” Usually calm and collected, Arnie quickly glanced at him as if he had gone crazy. His fear for Kally was making him insane. Arnie was in a full preventive bomb suit. First they had to make sure none of the wires Riely had secured to Kally were hot and waiting to trigger another device they might not know about. Then they had to transfer the bomb into an explosives box. They did this as a protective measure, in the event it detonated, then the explosion would be contained. “Gabe, you’re clear.” Rushing forward, Gabe lifted Kally into his arms. Her head dropped back. She was unconscious. He couldn’t tell yet if she was injured. He could barely speak, his breath lodged in his throat. Be okay, his mind whispered, be okay. “Get the ambulance,” he screamed as he made his way out of the building. The paramedics greeted him at the door, lifting Kally out of his arms; they stretched her onto a gurney and wheeled her toward the ambulance. Gabe followed. “Be careful with her, damn it.” Camera crews were all over, reporters rushed toward him. “Blackhawk, we need to talk.” Armstrong was making his way toward Gabe. “Later, I’m going to the hospital.” Gabe hopped into the back of the ambulance. “Now, Detective!” Gabe shook his head and for the first time in his life, he defied his commanding officer. “Later. If you want to talk, meet me at the hospital.” Slamming the door shut in his Chief’s face, Gabe didn’t miss his expression. He was furious. He wasn’t the only one who was pissed, he thought as he kneeled down next to Kally. He tried to stay back; they were working on her, frantically trying to diagnose the medical problem. He ran his hand over the marks on her arms. “They drugged her,” he stated out load.

“Yep, we realize that Detective, the problem is…finding out what the hell they used so she won’t have a reaction. We’re trying the best we can. Might just be a matter of letting the drug run its course. Despite the fact her breathing is shallow, her pulse is strong.” Nodding, Gabe engulfed her hand in his and prayed. One thing he knew for sure. If given the chance, he was going to kill Dane Riely and Harry Devlin. He was beyond pissed and he could feel his control slipping. Revenge was the only emotion on his mind now. It was time to shake up their world. Flipping out his phone, he dialed, calling his second in charge. “Shawn” “Yeah boss.” “Get the team ready. We have a house to toss and a suspect’s girlfriend to pick up.” “Got it boss, we’ll be ready when you are, say the word.” “Thanks.” He hung up and stroked Kally’s arm. It was time to stop messing around the federal way, time to start doing things his way. **** “Told you it wouldn’t kill her.” Dane set his coffee cup on the edge of the roof. They were set up across the street, on the building overlooking the clinic. He watched the mad scramble below and felt fantastic. “You told me you weren’t sure if it would kill her.” “Yeah, well I’m still not sure.” Dane turned from the chaotic scene on the street and stared at Devlin. “If it kills her, I’ll kill you.” He was dead serious, and despite his partner’s numerous criminal activities, he appeared frightened by Dane’s warning. Hands shaking, Devlin lit a cigarette. “Shit, Riely, you don’t need to say that fucking shit to me. I know where my loyalties lie. What the hell did you want me to do anyway? She was on to you, man.” Dane shook his head. Devlin was a mess, strung out on heroin. He was basically useless. Dane was actually considering killing him. Devlin’s a liability. Scum. Doing this for money, not because of his principles. He’s not worthy of life. It was getting easier, the thought of killing another human. If he wasn’t so good at acquiring the supplies he needed, Dane might have already gotten rid of him. He turned back toward the street. “I don’t want her dead, yet.” “They seem awfully chummy, her and that Detective.” “Yes, they do, don’t they?” Dane leisurely picked up his cup and took another sip of his coffee. He briefly wondered if they had found his secondary device. He considered killing Special Agent Kally Voker and her friend right along with her. He fingered his cellular phone. He could have killed them at any time with a simple phone call. He found the power that feeling held for him irresistible and he craved more. But still…he was conflicted. Something held him back. He didn’t want her dead yet. He had acquired a grudging respect for her over the last few months, admired her

tenacity, and even fantasized about her, what it would be like if he could only convince her that they would be so good together. He didn’t want to ruin something so beautiful, so delicately lovely. He wanted to savor her for a little longer. See how far she could get. Play with her. And now he had the Detective in his sights, he wanted to see how far he could push a man with so much control. See just how long it would take him to loose that cool. This is really getting fun. Controlling other people’s lives. What a kick. He felt fantastic. This was what he was meant to be—God. He should be the one who chose who lived and died. He earned that right, his cause was just. After all, killing babies was wrong, killing his sibling had been the worst wrong of them all. They killed people at that clinic and they all deserved what they got. As long as he stuck to his cause, his actions were justified. Now, SA Kally Voker…she was smart, it wouldn’t take her long to find him. He had some work to do. “Go back to the house, Devlin. Tell Clarice to call me later. You see any cops over there, watching?” “Nah, they’re too stupid to find her.” “Don’t be so sure of that, Devlin. Be alert. Go back to the house.” “Okay. Is that your kid at the house, because she’s a little bitch!” “Yeah, she’s my kid. She takes after her mother.” “You want to know what I think…” Dane slammed his fist against Devlin’s shoulder. He took a tumble, ass first onto the roof. “I don’t pay you to fucking think, Devil. I’ll say it one more time and that’s it. Get back to the house.” “Fine, whatever.” He picked himself off the ground, dusted off his pants and walked away. Thankfully, he had stashed his trust fund in that Cayman Island bank. Without money, controlling a criminal like Harry Devlin was impossible. He knew how scum like him worked. They would double cross you the first chance they got and steal you blind. He didn’t doubt Devlin would leave him for dead if he could get to the cash. But Devlin couldn’t get his hands on any money unless Dane doled it out to him. He made sure his account was secure. So he was safe, for now. He picked up the cup and dropped his cellular phone into his pocket. He decided not to blow the secondary device today because he was feeling generous. Besides, it would make a lot of noise and he had a slight headache already. Playing God. What he needed right now, he thought, was a refill on his coffee.

Chapter Ten Opening her eyes, Kally moaned at the bright light. Blinking she tried to figure out where she was. It took a minute then she recognized the hospital. She was in the hospital. She smiled when she saw Gabe. In full SWAT gear, his helmet lying on his stomach, his booted feet propped up on a chair, snoring away. Jeez, she thought, he even snored cute. She rotated her head from side to side. After finding Riely, all she could remember was getting hammered from behind then everything went black. They had drugged her, which was clear as soon as she saw Gabe attempting to disarm the bomb. Gabe’s image had kept fading in and out, and her body felt heavy, but she wanted him out of there. Stubborn man! Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she groaned and placed her hands on her temples. She had a doozy of a headache and a queasy stomach, hot and cold at the same time. She felt as if she had been on one too many roller coaster rides. “Hey,” Gabe stretched and dropped his feet to the floor, “How ya feeling, babe?” “Been better. What the hell did they drug me with?” Grabbing a glass of water from the table, she downed it and prayed it wouldn’t come back up. Standing, he came over and eased down on the bed next to her. “Heroin, directly into the vein.” “Ugghhh. Hope the feds don’t ask me to take a drug test.” “Nah, I called your supervisor and told him what happened. They gave you a counter to help fight any withdrawal. You should be good to go in a couple days.” “Damn. Don’t want to ever do that again, weird trip. Sooo,” she rubbed her hand through her hair, “I take it you didn’t comply with my order. That much I remember. Pissed me off. You could have been killed.” They both could have been killed, she thought. Experiencing this emotion gave her a strange need to hurt. She wanted to slap him. Her life, well that was one thing, but his— “No, I didn’t.” “That’s all you have to say?” “No that’s not all I have to say.” Wrapping a hand into her hair he tugged her forward and kissed her. Not a normal, light peck, this was a merging of lips and tongues, and souls. Gasping, Kally pulled back and took a breath. He leaned his cheek against hers and rubbed. “Don’t ever think I will leave you like that, ever.” His voice was firm, but the hands tenderly massaging her scalp, stroking her hair, told her a different story. His other arm wrapped around her waist and hugged her close. A commotion in the hall made them lean apart and glance toward the door. “I will see my daughter, nurse, or you won’t have a job.” Storming in, a gray haired man with a pristine suit and red tie, stopped when he saw them. “Kallesandra.”

Kally sighed, just what she needed. “Hello, father.” Gabe didn’t take his arms from around her. “What the hell is going on? Who is this man? Why do I have to see you in the news to learn about what you’re doing?” Disengaging herself from Gabe, Kally rose to her feet. Still a bit wobbly, she swayed and felt as if the coaster had started again. Immediately, Gabe was up, anchoring her from behind. “Careful, babe.” Gabe eased her back against him, holding her up, while she faced her father. “Father, this is Detective Gabe Blackhawk, Boise Police. We’re working on a case together.” Her father’s eyes strayed to Gabe; she could see the disapproval before he even voiced it. “Do you know how bad this looks for you? You are an FBI Agent, Kallesandra. Working with the locals… You need to maintain a sense of professionalism. What I see here doesn’t appear professional. Matter a fact, it looks very,” he paused, “personal.” “Father…” Gabe’s voice stopped her. “Mr. Voker, I would think you would be more concerned with your daughter’s health right now.” “Well of course, I’m concerned about that…” “Father, go home.” Kally sagged against Gabe. Throwing up seemed a likely option right then. She laid her head against Gabe’s chest and closed her eyes. Stroking her arm, he rested his chin on top of her head. “I think you should go, Mr. Voker.” Glaring, her father pivoted. “We will talk about this and your relationship with that…” he turned and pointed at Gabe, “Indian. Tomorrow.” He almost snarled then he left. She could feel Gabe tense. Of all the insults her father could have dished out, that had to be one of the worst. “Don’t listen to him,” she said. “He’s a class A bastard.” “Yes, he is.” Rubbing the back of her head against his chest, she relaxed and enjoyed the feel of him. “Yeah he’s probably right. We have been really unprofessional. Oh well.” She tried to laugh, but didn’t quite make it. She wanted to make light of her father’s insult. He kissed the top of her head, and chuckled. “I’m so in love with you,” she answered his affection with her voice. “I told you that, right, when I was strapped to the bomb? Tell me I told you.” His hands made little circles on her stomach. “Yeah, you told me.” He laughed and hugged her closer. “You know, I’m not feeling so good. Think you could point me to the bathroom?” “Yeah, I can do that.” Lifting her into his arms, he snuggled her close.

Running her hand along his jaw, she took pleasure in being close to him. He was something, her Gabe, something to cherish. “Thanks.” He kissed her on the cheek. “You got it.” **** It took her an hour in the bathroom to feel human and well enough to function. Dressed, she watched as Gabe juggled two phones. “Tell the Judge it’s an emergency warrant. We want early morning entry authorization. Good, yeah, good. We’ll be ready to go.” He switched to his personal cellular phone. “Shawn, we should be ready for an early AM. I’ll meet you at the station for prebrief. Yep, she’s fine. Okay.” He threw the phone in one of his cargo pants pockets. He wore all black. Sexy as hell, he reminded her of a warrior on the hunt. His black hair tied behind his head, his black shirt fell open when he’d loosened it. He looked good enough to eat. How did she ever get so lucky, she wondered, to have him? She’d have to call Jo and thank her, but not before she took him to task. She realized he was up to something and not including her in the decision. “What’s going on?” He pivoted around, looking guilty. Sitting down in the plastic hospital chair, she began to pull on her shoes. “What do you mean?” She arched an eyebrow at him in question. Carefully, she bent and began to lace up her shoes. “I mean, what are you planning?” He squatted in front of her and helped her tie the other one. It was cute. She felt a bit like a child, but he couldn’t baby her out of her irritation. “We’re going to hit Clarice Jake’s house and haul her in. I’m going to find out where this bastard is.” “On a state warrant?” “Yep, on a state warrant.” “Need I remind you this is my case?” She bristled in anger that he hadn’t consulted her on this. “Not any more. This is my state run case now. And I’m going to get that bastard.” Finishing, she sat up straight in the chair. “I could pull rank on you and take this case from you.” “Go ahead, try it.” She could see the determination in his expression. “Kally.” Leaning forward, he ran his thumb over her lips then gently kissed her. “He tried to kill my woman. This is personal now.” Her lips clung to his, her hands fell against his chest and fisted in his shirt. Wrapping his arms around her, he took the kiss deeper, tangling his tongue with hers. She couldn’t get enough of him, his taste was the best thing she had ever had. His smell ate at the fingers of her control. A bed, and his body wrapped around hers, was all she could think of. Trying to pull herself together, she broke the kiss.

“I’m going with you. This is personal for me too. I was the one tied to a bomb, Gabe.” Shaking his head, his gaze dropped to her lips. He began to nibble the corner of her mouth, then the other side, he ran his tongue down her jaw to her neck. Settling on her pulse, he sucked. “Ahhh.” As the pleasure of his mouth penetrated her mind, her head automatically dropped back in surrender. She tried to gather her thoughts. His hands slipped to her lower back, spanning his fingers, he arched her into him. She went willingly, giving him better access, pressing her neck into his mouth. The pressure of his tongue, lapping the spot he sucked, was beyond distracting. “I love the way you respond to me,” he whispered, as his lips journeyed to the other side of her neck and he sucked there. “Gabe, stop it. I’m coming with you. You can’t distract me out of it. I’m coming with you,” she huffed out, trying to maintain some semblance of sanity and hold onto her purpose. Damn him. Pulling back, his brows furrowed in anger. “Damn it, Kally.” Gently releasing her, he began pacing, back and forth. Swearing, he stopped and glared at her. “You can’t keep me away. I’m as much of a law enforcement officer as you. It’s my case and I have a right to be there.” He dropped his head down and took an interest in his boots. “Gabe.” Approaching him, she placed a finger under his chin she brought his gaze to hers. “It will be okay.” “Babe, you’re not feeling well. Might be twenty-four to forty-eight hours before you do. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” “I’ll be fine.” Smiling she set a hand on his cheek. “Don’t worry.” “I’ve known fear before, but when I saw you strapped to that bomb was the first time I’ve ever felt terror.” She placed a soft kiss on his lips, then one on the side of his cheek, she should have been sensitive to what he was feeling. She was a dope. Stepping in, she sighed when his arms encircled her. “I’ll be fine. Stop worrying.” “Promise?” He tucked her head into the crook of his neck. “Promise.” “All right. Let’s go squeeze the shit out of Clarice and toss her house.” “Yep, let’s. How much time to we have?” “About five hours.” Nuzzling her cheek, he kissed her jaw. “Take me home, I need a shower.” “Funny, me too.” “Yeah, funny. Take me home, Gabe.” “Sure you’re feeling up to it?” “I’m sure.” She saw the flare of desire in his eyes. She wanted him in a way that defied reason. Maybe it was nearly dying, but she wanted to feel alive and she needed him to do that. ****

They barely made it to the shower, before Gabe had her back flush against the tile. Steam floated around them and Gabe’s dark body gleamed with drops of water. She had never seen anything so beautiful as this man on his knees before her, loving her. “Gabe, I love you,” she groaned as he sipped from her, taking her up and up, loving her heat with his mouth and tongue. “Ahhh!” She climbed, as the contrast of his mouth and hands on her body made her shift against the wet tiles and beg for release. “Please,” she moaned. He gave it to her. Arching, she screamed and went over the top. Standing up, he turned her against the tiles and began again. His hands were everywhere, almost desperate, he kneaded, kissed then bit her shoulder. She jerked, so aroused she couldn’t think straight. He cupped her breasts, tweaking her nipples. Her body was on fire for him. “I can’t get enough of you,” he groaned, his erection pressing in the curve of her back. Strong and proud, he rubbed against her and she couldn’t take it anymore. “Take me,” she begged. She needed him so bad. Running his hands up her arms, he raised them above her head, positioning her palms onto the tile. Stretching her onto her toes, he bent his knees and entered her from behind. The position took him deep, so deep, she cried out. “Gabe, God!” “Yessss,” he groaned and clutched her hands with his, moving, slipping in and out. His chest pressed against her back, his heart pounded, his breathing ragged. She loved it, loved to hear his pleasure. It was so good. Together they were so good. “Kally, come for me. Come again.” He drew back and slipped back in, over and over, the sensation building, her control slipping, near gone. She moaned. “Yeah, moan for me, Ohkiimaan.” He sucked on her neck, traveled along her shoulder, then using his tongue he dipped down and lined her ear. The feeling was incredible, shattering her and she came, hard. “Yes!” He pumped in faster and faster then jerked against her. Reaching his own orgasm, he groaned, panting against her neck. “Damn, that was…” “Amazing,” she finished his sentence. “Beyond amazing.” Grabbing the soap, he turned her around and began washing her body. She returned the favor, their hands tangling as they tried to reach each other. She laughed at their soapy battle then she screamed when he easily picked her up, set her back against the tile and wrapped her legs around his ass. He was hard and ready. “Again,” he chanted, claiming her lips, mating them. Kally wrapped her arms around his shoulders and took what he offered. “The water will get cold.” Reaching over he shut off the spray. “We’ll let it warm up again, while we play.” Smiling, she caressed his shoulders and ran her lips down his jaw to his collarbone. A small scar stretched across the skin. “What’s this from?” she asked as she stroked the scar with her tongue. “Knife wound,” he said it like it was no big deal. She shook her head.

“How’s your chest?” The bruise had turned an ugly shade of black, late stages of healing. She kissed the darkness. “It’s healing fine, I hardly feel it anymore.” He sucked in a breath when she tongued the area. “Take me to bed Gabe. I want to worship you, every dark inch of you,” she whispered as she kissed him. He moaned. “Oh yeah!” With her legs wrapped around him, he stepped out of the shower and headed for his room, setting her on the bed, he followed her down. She pushed him onto his back and straddled him. Her wet hair fell around her shoulders and onto his stomach. She wanted to love him like he had never been loved. Her need surpassed a craving that couldn’t be satisfied. It was crazy. “It’s never been like this before, this need,” she confessed as she kissed his chest, running her tongue around his nipple. He fisted a hand in her hair. “Our mate connection is strong. It will never be this way again, with anyone but me,” he growled the words. Smiling she kissed the corner of his mouth, rubbing her body against his. “No it won’t.” “It won’t.” Laughing, she kissed the other corner of his mouth, trying to soften his frown. “Down boy, I’m yours, I’m here, with you. Aren’t I?” Finally she lightened his mood. Smiling, he kissed her back. “Okay, yeah sorry. I feel so…” he flipped her onto her back, “—so possessive,” he finished as he attacked her mouth. Sucking in a breath, she tried to get her balance and failed. “I’ve been out of sorts from the first minute I met you, Detective Blackhawk.” He chuckled while he nipped on her neck. He fingered his forehead. “You hit me hard, Agent Voker, nearly knocked me out.” Her laugh turned into a moan when he tongued her breast. “You rocked my tidy, organized world, Gabe.” Laughing, he smiled against her breast as he slipped into her. God, she was ready to ride with him, again. “I’m about to rock your world again, babe.” “Yes!” She wrapped her legs around him. “I’m ready to go anywhere you want to take me.” “Then hold on.” And he took her, higher than she had ever been, Gabe Blackhawk was true to his word, and truly rocked her world.

Chapter Eleven “You sure you’re up to this?” Worried, he dabbed the sweat from Kally’s forehead. They hadn’t left the bedroom and as he tried to help Kally gear up, his concern returned. “I’m okay.” “You don’t look so okay.” She was white as a sheet. If he had his way she wouldn’t be going out with them. Not twenty-four hours earlier, she had been shot up with a near lethal dose of heroin, and now she was suiting up for a raid. “I can do this without you.” He fastened the Velcro on her bulletproof vest. “No, I want to go.” He slid a finger down her cheek, compelling her to look at him. She did, her crystal blue eyes met the green of his. He admired her courage, but wasn’t through trying to talk her out of coming. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he told her, leaning forward to kiss her. She rolled her eyes. “That’s a silly thing to say to me, of all people, Miss Organized. I never do anything unless I’m sure.” He looked at the ceiling and tried not to say it, but it slipped out, “Not lately, Kally.” Her jaw clenched then she sighed and touched his face. He captured her hand in his and slowly kissed her palm, his eyes meeting hers. “I’m coming.” He nodded and pushed back. Pulling on his own vest, he sat down and laced up his boots. “Okay, babe, be careful. All right?” “I will, Gabe, don’t worry.” He stood and picked up his guns, his primary and backup. He seated them into their rightful places. She did the same. “Let’s go meet my boys.” **** It was two a.m. and the room was filled with law enforcement personnel, suited up and ready to go. Not an uncommon occurrence for his squad. To Gabe, this was a comforting thought. He looked at each member of his team. He thought about what made them good; their teamwork, camaraderie, combined with their individual technical expertise. Together the squad was unbreakable. He glanced at Kally. “You’ve got the best of the best here Agent Voker, my squad. We’re here to do a job guys, repay a debt.” He turned toward the operation planning board. “We don’t know who’s going to be in the house. We work it as if hostiles are there, as we do all entries.” He pointed and tapped the board. “Pictures of the house are there. We do standard entry, neutralize all occupants, and execute the search warrant. I will take anyone in the house to the station and begin interviews. Shawn, you run the search team.” “Got it, boss.”

“We received authorization to conduct an off hours entry from the Judge. Are we ready?” Collective nods gave him is answer. “Let’s rock and roll.” The room cleared. **** Three a.m. “SWAT leader one, Bravo Two, we’re in position, house surrounded.” Gabe glanced at Kally. They were in the SWAT van, he’d love to kiss her right now but with some of his men around, he couldn’t. He could feel the stress of managing this entire operation pushing down on him. The requirement to protect her, as well as all his men, was a millstone around his neck. Then a need for a drink hit him hard. He gritted his teeth and fought through it. The yearnings were getting more frequent. He was trying to ignore them, but there was a nagging worry in the back of his mind. He shook his head and forced himself back to the operation. “Ready?” He watched his men stare at her. He was babying her, he knew it and his men knew it but he ignored them and concentrated on her. She was pale, a light film of sweat covered her brow and she didn’t look so good. “Ready and willing, let’s do it.” “SWAT Leader One, acknowledged. Move in.” They ran to the door and lined up. Shawn pushed forward with Bertha and shattered the lock with one thump. From there, training took over. Gabe went right, Kally left, the rest of his team following, meticulously clearing each room. As they secured each room voices rang out with the signal, so Gabe could keep track. They found Clarice Jake in the upstairs bedroom, snoozing away. She had a rude awakening. When Shawn dragged her downstairs and cuffed her, she screamed and cried. One of his boys picked up her little girl, which prompted more screaming. Both ended up in a marked patrol car. They found Harry Devlin in the spare room. Woken by the noise, he was ready to fight. However, he didn’t get very far before three of Gabe’s men jumped him and took him down without incident. He was placed in a separate car. The advantage of the early morning warrant, no one was expecting them. Surprise was their greatest advantage and saved them from a lot of trouble. Gabe removed his helmet and re-tied his hair. He waited for the all clear. Kally jogged down from upstairs. “We ready to take those two in?” She nodded toward the car. “I’m ready. You?” “Yeah.” He held out his hand, she captured it. He drew her close and lifted her chin with his finger. He searched her face for any sign that she wasn’t feeling well. He fingered the dark marring under her eyes. In their five hours off, he hadn’t let her sleep very much— too busy having his wicked way with her. Not that he regretted it; however, he didn’t like the circles. “When this is over, how about I take you on a little camping trip to Glacier National Park, borders my reservation. We can get some rest.” “Camping, like with the same sleeping bag?”

Smiling, he touched her nose with his index finger. “Oh yeah.” “Well, with you in the same sleeping bag with me, I doubt we’ll get any rest.” He thought about it and knew she was right. His hand dropped from her face as one of his boys approached. “You’re probably right, but we’ll do it anyway.” She smiled at him. Man, he loved that smile. “Boss all clear, we’re going to start the search now. We’ll call you if anything critical comes up.” “Thanks.” He nodded to Kally. “Let’s go.” **** “Ms. Jake, can I get you anything? Do you need another glass of water?” Arm shaking, Clarice Jake rubbed her reddened eyes with the back of her hand. They’d been with her in the interview room at the station for less than thirty minutes. Gabe was playing the good cop. He could do that well. He knew he had charisma, and when he needed it, he used it to his advantage. “Ms. Jake, I’ve already read you your rights. Let me ask you a few questions, okay?” He smiled at her. She shook her head up and down. “Sure, no problem Detective Blackhawk. I got nothin’ to hide.” “That’s good, Clarice. You don’t mind if I call you that do you?” “No, no, it’s okay.” She was shaking so bad, she could barely pick up her water. Gabe steadied it for her while she took a drink. She smiled at him. She was softening up like a warm donut coming out of the cooker, and it was time to send in the wolf. “Special Agent Voker, could you please read Clarice the Federal charges for aiding and abetting a fugitive.” “Sure, Detective Blackhawk.” Her voice syrupy sweet, Kally picked up the notebook. “That would be the greater charge of ten years in jail or one half the time of the fugitive charges, let’s see in this case,” she flipped her notebook page over in a dramatic fashion, “let’s see here it is… that would be one half of a life sentence.” Gabe watched as Clarice gulped. “Oh and I forgot, assault on a federal officer, that would be another, let’s say for calculation purposes, fifteen years.” Clarice choked and started coughing. Leaning over, Gabe patted her on the back. He tried not to snort out his laughter. His plan was working perfectly. “I’m sure this is all a misunderstanding, Clarice. If you will simply tell us where Dane Riely is, we’ll get this all cleared up.” “I don’t know where he is,” she cried wiping her nose. Big alligators tears ran down her face. “Oh and I forgot to tell you Ms. Jake, in the federal system all prisoners serve eighty percent of their time.”

Gabe made a little whistle. “Wow, that’s a lot of time.” Clarice’s gaze swung back and forth between him and Kally. He could tell the good cop-bad cop routine worked. Patting her on the shoulder, Gabe reassured her. “I’m sure we can work this out, Clarice, Agent Voker is a little angry, getting assaulted and all.” Clarice’s eyes swung to Kally. “Ms. Jake, we know for a fact you have been in contact with Dane Riely,” Kally said while she leaned forward and pinned Clarice down with a stare. Clarice opened her mouth then closed it. “Ms. Jake, if we can get this all worked out then we won’t have to turn your child over to Social Services. As I said, I’m sure it’s all a simple misunderstanding. Tell us where he is.” Gabe lowered his voice, making eye contact with Clarice he nodded, using his sexiest look. Out of the corner of his vision, he could see Kally rolling her eyes. “Well I never gave him anything,” she bawled out. Gabe straightened. Good, now they were getting somewhere. “I’m sure you didn’t. Where is he?” “I’m not sure where he is. He just gave me this phone number.” Kally flipped open her notebook and read off a number, “That number?” she confirmed. She slapped her notebook on the table, making Clarice jump. “I’m through fooling around with you, Ms. Jake. Tell us where he is or I’m personally transferring you into federal custody and hauling you off to a Federal Prison.” Gabe tried not to grin at her act. “Now Agent Voker, I’m sure we can work this all out. This is just a simple misunderstanding. Right Clarice? You didn’t mean to help him did you? I mean he’s your daughter’s father, right? You had to help him? It’s not like you knew something like this was going to happen.” “Right, exactly.” She glared at Kally, who crossed her arms in front of her and began tapping her foot against the floor. “Where is he, Clarice?” Gabe was giving her one more chance before he hauled her off to a very nasty cell. “He’s staying in some sort of old warehouse by the water. Not sure which one. He said something about eighteen, warehouse number eighteen. I haven’t been there. I didn’t know he was doing all this stuff. I was just giving his friend a place to stay, that’s all. I need the money, for our kid and I love him. He’s a good man.” She cried in earnest now. “Its okay, Clarice. We’ll take care of it. The officer is going to take you to a holding cell, for a little while then we’ll get this all cleared up. “My daughter, can I see her?” Her shaky plea pulled at his heart. “We’ll get you to her, don’t worry.” Gabe hopped up, Kally trailing behind him. Shutting the door, he motioned to the uniform officer. “Process her, charge her with aiding and abetting in addition to conspiracy. Let her see her daughter for ten minutes, then call Social Services to pick up her up.” The uniformed nodded. “Detective Blackhawk, the other one you had in custody already lawyered up. He was in bad shape. They had to haul him to de-tox.” “What a surprise,” Kally murmured. They approached the elevator. Gabe punched the down button. While they waited, he glanced at Kally.

“Did you have to be so sweet?” she asked while crossing her arms in front of her, glaring at him. “What?” He slid his hands in his pockets enjoying the turn in conversation. Uncrossing her arms, she waved toward the interview room. “In there, did you have to be so nice?” “I thought we agreed to play good cop-bad cop.” She crossed her arms again. “Well, I could have been good cop.” “Kally, do you really think that would have been as effective?” The elevator dinged and slid open. They stepped in. “Well sure, maybe.” Gabe moved forward and gently uncrossed her arms and laid them around his waist. “You’re not jealous, are you?” “What? No!” “I think you are.” He nibbled at her mouth. “Okay, maybe a little.” Chuckling, he kissed her. “That’s cute.” She growled and buried her hands in his hair and pulled him down for a real kiss. Hard and fast she ate his lips with her tongue and mouth. The kiss nearly knocked him senseless. When she let him go, he forgot what he was going to say. “Just remember who you belong to, Mister,” she claimed. “I think you just made it very hard for me to forget.” He fingered his lips and smiled. “I figured you had, so I just wanted to give you a little reminder.” The elevator door slid open and she stepped out, leaving him in her wake. Gathering his wits, he followed. “I think I might know the warehouse she’s talking about,” he said. “Good.” She turned and waited for him. For a second he stood and stared at her intently, trying to gauge her mood, her arms crossed, her lips pursed tightly, and she was glaring at him. Her body language told him she was still mad. “You’re really beautiful when you’re angry.” He meant it. She was irresistible when she was mad. Her expression softened. Looking down she shrugged her shoulders, then raised her eyes to his. “Sorry. Never had to experience jealousy before. Nasty little emotion.” “I’ll say. Come on,” he swung his arm around her shoulders, “Let’s see if we can find our boy.” **** With a sigh, Riely took a sip of his triple mocha. Yeah, coffee, God’s gift. The street light from the road leading to the warehouse winked on and off at him. He was watching them, watching him. He smiled at the thought, then sobered. It isn’t time. He growled at himself. He was delaying her death on purpose. He couldn’t quite get past his admiration for her intelligence. She found the warehouse. He knew eventually

she would. He rigged his former residence to blow in several different ways. But, he wasn’t ready yet. Who am I kidding? I’m obsessed with her. He was an intelligent man. He realized what was happening to him. At the Women’s Clinic, after Devlin had knocked her out, he had time to admire her—up close and personal, to touch her. He remembered running her hair through his fingers. She was incredibly sensual, her skin creamy white, unflawed, her lips, rosy red, lovely. She smelled like a fresh spring day. He recalled how the scent of flowers drifted to him. He was pissed when Devlin injected her with drugs. So soft, he’d trailed his thumb down her jaw before Devlin caught him mooning and screamed at him to get moving. He made the bomb he strapped her to as simple as he could because in the back of his mind, he didn’t want to kill her. Now the rest of the people in the clinic and those people in the lab, they deserved to die. They were contributing to a cause that should be outlawed! In his mind he could justify killing them, but her…that was a different story. He wired a secondary in case he changed his mind, but then he decided he had other things to do. Look at her. He envied Detective Blackhawk. She was sprawled all over him in their car, kissing him. Dane touched his erection, stroked himself. He wished he was Detective Blackhawk right now and that SA Kally Voker was his. He shook his head at his stupidity and slammed a fist on the dash. What the hell was he thinking? Weak, she was making him weak. He started the car and grabbed his cellular phone briefly wondering where the hell Harry Devlin was. Time to make contact. **** They waited and watched. The aged industrial district was where Gabe remembered the warehouse Clarice described. Didn’t take long to find number eighteen. Gabe spent a lot of time in the area when he worked with the gang squad. Illegal immigrants were housed in some of the abandoned buildings; bad guys used them for human storage, gang meeting places, whatever they pleased. The area was quiet, almost abandoned, most of the businesses had moved out. That’s why criminals liked it so much. Reaching over, Gabe grabbed a candy bar from the jockey box and unwrapped it. Three hours, they had been watching the warehouse for three hours with no movement. Tough choice to make. Did they go in, or did they wait? So far, they’d decided to wait. Since the surveillance appeared fruitless, he decided to have a little fun. “Hey.” Turning toward Kally, he grinned. “Yes?” “Where’s mine?” “Oh, I’m going to take care of you. Don’t worry.” Shoving a little piece of the candy bar in his mouth, he left half of it hanging out and crooked his index finger at her. She made a little “humph” noise, but scooted in closer to claim her prize. In his mind, she was the prize. It was amazing to think this woman, with all her beauty and courage, was his. Leaning over him, she inched closer. She opened her mouth to take her bite from him. He grabbed her, and tugged her the last millimeter to his

mouth. Kissing her, he passed her the small piece with his tongue then licked it in her mouth, claiming her lips while he was at it. She gasped, grabbing the candy before she kissed him back. It was beyond erotic to kiss her this way, to share their mouths and sweet candy with their tongues. Breaking the kiss, she leaned back, chewed the candy and swallowed. “How’s that?” He took another bite. “Better than my own.” Holding up his palm, he wiggled his fingers in invitation. She lifted her hand and laid her palm to his. He clasped their fingers together. “Together is better.” Laughing, she squeezed his hand. “Yeah, together is better.” Guiding her hand behind his head, he shifted her so she was sprawled across his lap, straddling him. He started in again. Kissing her, he ran his hands over her back and cupped her ass, and rocked her against his erection. She ran her hands through his hair. He loved the feel of her hands on him as she began to knead his neck. He stretched forward and angled his head to get closer. “Wish we were home in bed right now,” she whispered when he released her lips. “So do I, babe.” “SWAT Leader One, Bravo Six. All clear on our side.” Gabe picked up the mic from the seat. He almost moaned when Kally began sucking on his neck. Peering around her body, he checked the warehouse. “S-1 acknowledged, all clear over here.” He broke off quickly as Kally’s tongue lined his ear and dipped in. Automatically his hips pushed forward. “Okay there S-1? Sound funny.” Gabe groaned when she leaned down and kissed his jaw then began unbuttoning his pants. “Okay here Bravo Six, carry on.” “Ahhh.” She had her hands on him now, toying with his hardness, clouding his brain. He reached down and stopped her. “Shit, if we continue this, I won’t be worth a crap if Riely shows up. Not that I’m not enjoying this. Immensely,” he added. “You’re right. And it’s all your fault, if you weren’t so sexy…you’re driving me crazy!” “I know the feeling well.” She moved back to her side of the car. Gabe felt a huge sense of loss. When this was over, he wasn’t going to let her out of bed for a week. “What should we do here? Wait or go in?” “Good question. If we hit it, we could get some good evidence. Course he could also have already split. By now, he might know we picked up his girl. So waiting is pointless.” “Yeah.” “Let’s give it another hour. If nothing then we’ll hit it.” “Okay.” Reaching inside his dash, she grabbed another candy bar. Slowly she unwrapped it and turned toward him. “Better eat this one myself.”

“You better, unless you want to end up in the back seat. Wouldn’t make us very diligent.” “Back seat, hmmm, that has possibilities. Never done that before.” “Oh man.” Gabe ran a hand along the back of his neck, diffusing a little of the heat as he went. He could feel the arousal gathering at the base of his spine at the thought of hauling her into the back seat and showing her what she was missing. “You’re killing me!” “What?” Licking the chocolate off her fingers, she stared at him innocently. “Never mind.” He grabbed the remaining chocolate out of her hand and shoved it into his mouth. “That’s for teasing me,” he said as he licked his fingers. “Oh, that was mean.” “You’re banned from my jockey box.” “You’ll pay for eating that.” He shook his head and checked the building. Still clear. “I’m already paying,” he said as he adjusted his pants to hide his hardness. The ringing of his cell phone stopped their play. Looking down at the number he stiffened. “Kally, it’s from your phone.” She leaned over him and studied the number. “It’s Riely.” “Yep.” Gabe punched the answer button. “Detective Blackhawk, I see you and Agent Voker have become very close.” Immediately, Gabe began a visual search of outside, trying to spot Riely. Starting the car, he eased onto the road and began a physical search. “Where are you Riely?” “Oh you won’t find me close, Detective Blackhawk, not close enough for you, not anymore. I see you’re sitting on my old lodging. Do you think that’s the best idea, considering my area of expertise?” He handed the phone to Kally, and grabbed his radio. He changed the channel to all broadcast. “All SWAT teams back off the building, possible bomb, I repeat, possible bomb. Arnie get the Bomb squad together.” “Hello Mr. Riely. I wonder, why all the warnings?” Kally asked him. Gabe pulled the car back from the building. “While I appreciate you might enjoy my company, this would be a lot easier if you would turn yourself in. We will find you.” Gabe grabbed the phone back from her. He was so angry he was spitting nails. “You better watch your back, Riely.” “Oh Detective, you’re not threatening me are you? I wouldn’t be very pleased about that.” “You bet your ass I am.” “Now that’s not very friendly, Detective Blackhawk. I could have killed her you know, very easily.” Gabe’s heart was pounding; he could feel it in his head. He glanced at Kally. He would die before he let that happen.

“Yes, you could have. But you’ll never get your hands on her again.” “Ohhh a challenge. I like that Detective. I like a challenge. I’ll be seeing you both.” He hung up. Gabe swore and took the corner at break neck speed to find the Bomb squad. He skidded to a stop and jumped out of the car when they did. Kally trailed behind him. “Arnie, likely there’s a bomb in the building. Riely called me gloating.” “I’m on it Gabe, got the squad on their way. Nothing you can do now, but let us do our jobs. Go back to the station Gabe, I’ll tell you when we’re clear to search.” “Damn.” Gabe punched the side of the van. “What’s wrong?” Kally approached him. “Riely, he’s been watching us. He’s been here, recently.” “Dang.” “If I had to guess, I’d say he had this building wired with explosives. He’s playing with us, Kally, teasing us.” “Let’s head back to the station and re-group. See if they found anything in the search of Clarice’s house.” “I’m going to get an emergency warrant for your cellular phone. See if we can locate the tower he’s pinging off of.” “Good idea, let’s roll the other cellular Clarice called into that warrant. See if we can triangulate the sites, narrow him down as far as we can. If he has the phones on, we should get tower signal.” “Agent Voker, you are a genius.” He gave her a quick kiss on the mouth. “Yeah when you’re not distracting me, I’m pretty good, if I do say so myself.” “Your more than good, babe.” She winked at him and stepped into the car. “To the station,” she commanded. Shaking his head, he complied. **** Dane Riely slammed the hotel phone down and swore. Leave it up to an overdosed heroine addict and that weak sniveling bitch to get themselves caught. Five hundred dollars to a neighbor was all he parted with. Now, he had all information he needed to piece together the puzzle and he knew why Harry hadn’t met him. Harry was in jail, and so was his stupid girlfriend. He needed to take care of the situation. Eventually, they had taken Harry to the hospital. He couldn’t have Harry Devlin squealing. And he would, he was weak, he would give Dane up as soon as the cops offered him a deal. Dane didn’t trust him, never had and he was worried. Harry could clue the authorities in on his grand bombing plan, and he didn’t want to have to re-think the entire operation. He was going to have to take care of the situation personally. Throwing on his sunglasses, he checked his explosive belt. Felt good and secure. The best way to smuggle a bomb into a building was to simply walk in with it. If he had to blow up the entire hospital to get rid of Harry, he would. Of course that really wouldn’t serve any purpose, but he was starting not to care anymore. He was beginning to feel the pressure from the possibility he could spend his life in jail.

Didn’t feel so great. The laundry room was always a great place to trigger a stationary bomb. First, he would go scope out the facility then he’d find the best place to work. He was even half considering blowing up the warehouse. He picked up his phone. All he needed to do was make one call to activate the timer. He caressed the buttons. Shaking his head, he pocketed it again. He’d wait, for now. Maybe later. He wanted to see how far those stupid bomb techs got. Dane rubbed his hands together in excitement. He loved this stuff, loved planning people’s deaths. Maybe this wasn’t about the clinics anymore; maybe he was starting to enjoy everything about being God. Maybe his cause wasn’t enough, and he needed to be the one to make choices for everyone. The power in choosing for them was thrilling. All he needed now was a good cup of coffee and he’d be set. Today he was thinking a deep, rich Colombian blend would be perfect. He’d spend some time at Starbucks. Grabbing his computer, he slammed the hotel room door on his way out.

Chapter Twelve Back at the police station, Kally logged into Gabe’s computer. “I have the software already installed on my computer. Last year I tracked a fugitive by his cellular phone.” Scooting over, Kally lifted her hand and pointed to the computer. “Do it.” He slid his chair into her space. Fingers flying, he logged into the site that would give him real time tower activity for her and Riely’s phones. As she watched him, she leaned forward and tucked his hair behind his ear. He glanced at her, smiled, and went back to the computer. Shawn came up beside them. “Anything from Clarice’s house?” she asked. “Maybe. I bagged and tagged it all. It’s in the evidence room. Want to come and take a look?” “Sure.” She turned toward Gabe. He was absorbed in what he was doing. “Go, babe, it’s going be ten minutes at least before I get this up and going.” Kally stared at him, willing him to look at her before she brained him. He did. “Thank you, Detective Blackhawk.” “Umm, right… no problem… Agent Voker.” He had slipped, right in front of one of his men again. She needed to remind him. Shawn quickly turned and walked away, almost as if he smelled trouble in paradise. “Be careful, Gabe.” He stopped typing and swiveled his chair near her. Those eyes, he had the most incredible green eyes, so striking, so handsome. She was completely in love with him. Everything he stood for touched her in an elemental way. It was amazing considering the short period of time she had known him. She smiled, trying to soften her expression. “I don’t want your men to think poorly about you is all.” “I apologize.” He toyed with her fingers. She let him. Touching him was becoming essential to her well-being. “It’s okay. I’m going to look at this evidence, see if anything triggers a clue.” “Oh, here.” He drew his personal cell from his pocket and handed it to her. “Use this until we can get you a new one. I’ll call you when I get the system up and running.” Dropping it in her pocket, she got up and made her way to the evidence room. **** Sorting through it, Kally sighed in frustration as the overhead florescent light flickered. Why did all evidence rooms need to be in the basement, she wondered as she set a photo album to the side and kept pushing through the items; Clarice’s wallet, nothing, a day timer with no entries, yesterday’s paper with a job circled, nothing. So far, she had yet to find anything of value. She grabbed Gabe’s phone and called the one person she knew could help. “Jo Clarin, here.”

“Hi Jo.” Kally eased onto a chair and faced the evidence. “Kally, how are you girlfriend?” “I’m good, how are you?” she asked as she picked up a piece of paper, birth certificate for Clarice’s daughter naming Dane Riely as the father. Well that confirmed her suspicion. “How are things working out with Gabe?” Kally could hear the mirth in Jo’s voice. “You knew exactly what you were sending me into, you evil, conniving, wonderful friend.” Jo chuckled. Kally could hear someone in the background. “Is that Troy?” “Yeah, Troy thinks I’m deep down evil too, says I’m always getting into people’s business.” “Well he’s right. How’s the baby?” She flicked a grocery store receipt out of the way. “The baby is doing very good, thank you. How is Gabe?” Jo asked. Kally smiled into the phone. “Gabe is… he’s…” She tried to describe him without giving too much away. “He’s perfect.” Jo supplied her with the answer she was searching for. “Yeah, he’s perfect, although he has his demons.” “Yeah, well don’t we all,” Jo’s voice had turned serious. “I need some help.” “You got it. Tell me what you need.” Kally took a minute to brief Jo on the case. “I’m sitting in the evidence room now. Help me.” “Ahhh.” Jo paused. “Kally search for the obvious. It always comes down to the item sitting right in front of your nose.” She picked her way through describing each piece to her long time friend. “Business card for Clarice. Already know where she works, no help there.” “Keep looking. Something so noticeable it hits you right between the eyes,” Jo ordered. “Nothing.” She set aside Clarice’s business card. Except… “Wait.” She stopped and picked up a paper cup Shawn had collected for fingerprints. The band around the cup said Starbucks. “Oh, girl, I think I’ve got it.” She was bursting with excitement. She might have picked up the proof Riely was in the house, now she just needed to delve a little deeper. “See, told you. Oh and Kally,” Jo said. “Yes.” “Take it easy on Gabe.” She smiled. “I will, thanks.” “You got it. Call me when you get back. We’ll plan another girls’ night out.” Troy was protesting in the background. “Doesn’t sound like Troy’s on board with that.” She heard a smacking kiss into the phone. “Troy’s fine with it. Call me,” she ordered.

“You’re on.” She disconnected the call and dialed the Boise FBI Office. “Hey Greg, are you guys still sitting on that Starbucks, downtown? The one with the wireless internet access?” “No, we gave up two days ago. Didn’t think you wanted us to continue the surveillance. Your suspect was a no-show.” “Okay, thanks.” Hanging up, she grabbed the cup and went to find Shawn. “Shawn, can you have this printed as soon as possible? I think it might be from Riely.” “Sure.” He took the cup and the evidence chain. “I’ll send it up today, priority. See what we get.” “Thanks.” Making her way back to Gabe’s office, she crossed her arms and leaned against the door jam. He was typing away, frowning at the computer screen, and mumbling to himself. “You got that thing up yet?” she asked. “Oh yeah. Sorry, got caught up. Forgot to call you.” “No problem.” “I’ve been tracking both the phones.” He picked up a binder. “Here are the towers but it’s going to take us a while to figure this out.” Pushing off the door, Kally grabbed the manual and rolled his chair out of the way. “Please. This is me, Gabe. Give me thirty minutes alone and I’ll have his most likely location. Go get us some coffee.” Getting up, he leaned over her shoulder. “Want me to explain…” “Nope.” “But what about…” “Nope, don’t need your help. Need some coffee.” “So now I’m the coffee boy, huh?” Ignoring his presence, Kally cracked her fingers and pulled the baby notebook from her pocket. This she could do. Organizing data was her thing. She could do it in her sleep. “Yes, and you’re an extremely sexy coffee boy at that. Does that make you feel better?” “Yeah, sure.” “Get me a triple skinny mocha,” she ordered as she began to correlate the numbers on the screen with the cell site book. He disappeared from her vision. By the time he returned she had what she wanted, a tentative location for Riely. Spreading her work on the table, she grinned. Gabe, standing with two coffees in his hand, whistled. He set her coffee on the table. She picked it up and moved it to what she considered to be a safe location. “What have you done here?” he asked as he sipped his coffee. “I have taken this down to something very simple. I assumed he’s using the Starbucks downtown for his activities. Both phones are pinging here, this tower,” she touched a spot on the map she printed out, pointing out the X, “and here’s the Starbucks.”

She fingered the map again, pointing at an S. They had to be within ten miles of each other. She tapped the coffee house. “I think he’s holed up close by, maybe a local hotel. I’d say within walking distance of the coffee shop. He has a weakness for coffee, and he can access the Internet virtually undetected.” “That’s amazing; you figured that out so quick.” “That’s what I do, figure things out.” “Well you’re damn good at it. What now?” “Let’s take a drive around the area using a different car. He's obviously been tracking us. Got any baseball caps?” Sliding open his bottom desk drawer, he pointed. There were probably four hats there, a wig, and various sunglasses. “Lovely!” she exclaimed. “Choose your poison,” he said. Grabbing his hair, he tied it behind his head and plopped on a hat. He slipped on a pair of sexy sunglasses. “Recognize me?” “I guess it’s better than nothing.” Pulling the pins from her hair, she let it cascade down. She reached to place it in a ponytail. He stopped her. “Can I?” Grabbing a cloth hair band from his wrist where he stored them, he moved behind her. “Sure.” Checking the area, she made sure no one was around to see them, then let him play with her hair. It started with a bundling of the thick mass then he released it and began running his hands through it. “I love your hair. So thick, so magnificent,” he said as he stepped in close. Close enough for her to feel his hard body touching hers. She shivered in reaction, her body defying her, wanting him even now. “Better get to it, or we’ll never get out of here,” she warned as his hand fell to her shoulder in a caress. “Right.” He seemed to mentally shake himself and he quickly braided her hair. “Oh,” she fingered the braid, “perfect. Where did you learn that skill?” “Male warriors of the Blackfoot always braid their hair, three braids, before war. I learned pretty young how to do this. For some of the ceremonial dances we dress in historical warrior clothing.” “Oh the clothes you have in the case, the one in your living room?” “Yep.” He plopped a baseball hat on her head. “I’d love to see that. You dressed like that.” Just thinking about it was turning her on. “Someday I’ll dress that way for you.” “Stop teasing me, you’re distracting me.” He held up his hands. “What?” She slapped his shoulder. “You know what?” Peering from side to side, he stepped forward. She tried to step back, but the desk stopped her. “We dress that way three times a year.” “Uh huh.”

“When we celebrate the buffalo hunt, the annual Sun Dance Festival.” Stepping in closer, he leaned in, caging her between his arms. “Our annual tribal ceremony, the Warriors’ festival.” His face moved closer to hers, one inch at a time. Heat infused her, rising up her body, to her face. “And when we get married,” he whispered against her mouth. “I will dress that way for you, someday. I promise.” Then he kissed her. A hard possessive claiming. She moaned and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He raised her into his body, stretching her against him. Then lifting his lips from hers, he stepped back. “Ready to go?” Clearing her throat, she repositioned her hat. She leaned over to his computer, and checked the live feed on the cellular phone. Good, still at the same site. “Yeah.” Outfitted in a different car, they cruised around the Starbucks, trying to find a hotel within walking distance. Didn’t take long. Hotel Bargain, a glorified Motel Six was about a half block down. “This is it,” she said as Gabe swerved to the curb. She pulled out her notepad, and began to jot down plates from the parking lot. “Let’s run a few of these, see what we get.” Gabe jumped on the radio and began to read them off to dispatch. “Here’s one,” he said, pointing to the number when dispatch had called back, “from the Pick and Pull—bad side of town. They’ll sell cars for cash and don’t require registration. It’s where most crooks who don’t want to be traced get their cars. They come back registered to the Pick and Pull, but when you ask them if they have the car, they say it’s been sold. It’s a great scam.” She squinted, scrutinizing the car. It was a junker, an older model gray Chevy Caprice, like a worn out cop car; very discreet and understated. “It means we can’t get a search warrant for it unless we can place him in the car.” “Yep, convenient isn’t it?” “Sure is.” “Okay so we sit.” “We sit and wait,” she agreed. “Got any more candy bars?” Smiling he popped open the glove box. It was full of goodies. “Stocked it up when I went for coffee.” Rubbing her hands together in glee, she dug in. “Oh, Gabe Blackhawk,” she shoved a bite of a Snickers into her mouth, “I loooove you.” He held out his hand. She slapped a candy bar into it. “I know,” he said as he bit into his. He grabbed the radio. “Dispatch, S-1, we’ll be sitting here on surveillance for a while. I’ll yell if we need backup.” “Copy S-1. Have fun out there.” Munching on her candy bar, she glanced at the hotel. “If we watch that car long enough, he’s going to come out.”

“Sometimes police work is so simple. Let’s see if we can beat him at his own game,” Gabe said. His phone rang. He answered it while chewing away at his candy bar. Kally loved to watch him. He was so confident, so sure of what he was doing. She never thought she would be attracted to such a strong man, but she was. “Blackhawk.” Even the way he spoke, with confidence, such a natural leader. She admired that about him. “Okay, thanks.” “What’s up?” She grabbed a package of potato chips and tore it open. “Harry Devlin isn’t doing well. They tried to take him through de-tox. He went into cardiac arrest. He’s in a coma. They don’t know if he’s going to make it.” “Great, so much for getting anything out of him.” “Yeah, well he already lawyered up. We weren’t getting shit from him anyway. “True.” She daintily began her ritual of eating the potato chip, cruising around the edges with her mouth then she licked it. “What in the hell are you doing to that potato chip?” “Enjoying it. Sometimes I crave the salt, so I lick.” He stared at her lips. Growling, he grabbed the chip out of her hand and shoved it into his mouth. “Well knock it off.” “Hey!” “Unless you want me to lay you back and show you the backseat, you better stop mouthing those chips. And that’s probably not the best idea, considering we are supposed to be on surveillance right now.” Smiling, she grabbed another chip and ate it. There was a certain sense of satisfaction in the fact she could disturb him. “Sorry, I’ll behave.” “Thanks.” “Tell me about your family,” she asked as she settled back into the seat. “I have a sister and a brother. We grew up on the reservation Montana surrounds. Our people are called Siksiki. It means ‘Blackfoot’. I am of the Piikani tribe. Borders the Glacier National Park.” “Yeah, you said that. Looks so beautiful there. I’ve only seen pictures.” “Beautiful doesn’t even come close to describing it. To us, it’s a sacred place, a place our ancestors christened with our legends and our blood. We knew that land before it was a national park, before the white man claimed it.” “Tell me of one of the legends.” “Okay, there’s a cliff called Head-Smashed-In Buffalo-Jump on the Canadian side located about eighteen miles north and west of Fort MacLead in Alberta, Canada. Been around more than five hundred years.” “Heads smashed in?” “Yeah, well legend says one day, after the enee or what you would call buffalo were driven off the cliff in a hunt, they found a Peigan youth pinned to the side of the cliff with his head smashed in. Hence the name, Estipah-sikikini-kots, ‘where he got his head smashed in.’”

She loved the way he spoke his language. “Oh, how horrible. Why did they run them off the cliff?” “That’s how they hunted them.” “Wow, that’s something.” “Yep, lot’s of history with my people. At one point around 1909 there were only a little more than two thousand of us left on the reservation. In 1960, we were back up to over four thousand. I grew up with a lot of love and warmth. My people are very affectionate. However, we were not always accepted in the white man’s world.” She cleared her throat at his last statement. “Wow, amazing you survived as a people. I’m proud to know you Gabe Blackhawk, and learn of your people. I wish you didn’t have to deal with discrimination, even as a child.” “And I’m happy to share my life with you, Kally Voker. As far as acceptance,” he shrugged, “that’s part of life.” She clasped his hand in hers and mapped his dark fingers. “We’re so different, you and I.” “That’s the spice of life, nimoskittsipahpi.” “What does that mean?” “A term of endearment, like your word for darling as well as Ohkiimaan, which means one closest to your heart.” “Tell me about your life,” he asked. “Hey, what about your father, did you ever call him?” “No, I will eventually, maybe. My father is a very important man in the FBI as well as my brother who is CIA. Even my mom works for the Feds. I grew up in a strict environment of properness and order. My grandfather was also an Agent.” “Ahhh. That explains it.” “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it? You saw how my father was, although you saw the worst, he is blinded by the way he thinks my life should be.” She pressed their palms together, playing with his hand. “When I visit him, he makes dates for me, a proper Senator’s son, people like that. We have these formal dinners we dress for. Life is uncomfortable. Always has been.” “No wonder he didn’t like me.” “He didn’t like you,” she brought his hand under her chin and made eye contract with him, “because he didn’t choose you. I did.” He ran his thumb over hers and leaned over to gently kiss her. “Do you spend time with your family anymore, Gabe?” “Not as much as I would like, but yes, I do go back to the reservation now and again. My family is there, my mother, father, sister and little brother. He wants to be a policeman.” “Like you.” “Like me.” Smiling, she leaned against the headrest and studied him. “I could tell him his brother has many admirable qualities,” she promised. “Oh you don’t think you’re biased, do you?” “No, I don’t. I admire you, Gabe, from the first minute I met you. You are a born leader.” He turned and stared at the hotel. “Wow, I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything.” “Traditionally my people don’t give thanks, but I don’t mind saying it to you. Thanks, Kally. Thanks for telling me that and coming into my life. It means a lot to me.” “You’re welcome.” “When I first saw you, well maybe it was the second time… I thought about camping in Glacier, one sleeping bag, your hair splayed out over my pillow, and you under me.” Kally sucked in a breath and slowly let it out, “What were you thinking the first time you saw me?” “An abandoned beach and you under me.” “Really, that’s funny because I was also thinking about a warm beach, sun, and being under your dark body.” He plopped his head against the headrest. “Man sitting here all night together, no bed, no way to… this is going to be difficult, isn’t it?” Pulling her hand down, he laid it on his hardness. She could feel the sweat forming on her brow. “You don’t say,” she sighed out. “Why don’t you try to get a little nap. I’ll keep watch, wake you if anything happens.” Re-claiming her hand she adjusted the seat, pulled her cap over her eyes and laid back. “Wake me if you see anything.” “I will.” **** The vibration of Gabe’s cell phone kicked her out of her slumber. Sitting up, she grabbed Gabe’s phone from her pocket and handed it to him. “Think it’s for you.” Setting down the paper he was reading, he answered the phone. “Detective Blackhawk.” While Gabe talked, Kally took a minute to orient herself. She glanced at her watch and was amazed she had been asleep for two hours. Around them, dusk was settling. Removing her hat and taking her hair down, she flipped down the visor. Using the mirror, she tried to bring some order to her blond mop by braiding it again. Gabe’s voice floated to her. He was speaking a foreign language of some sort, had to be Native American language from the sounds. Beautiful. Setting her hand on her chin, she watched him. There was something so sexy about a man speaking another language. He hung up and made eye contact with her. “Hey, sleepy head.” “Hey. Any news?” “Yeah, Arnie called earlier. They were able to determine the warehouse is wired to explode and they’re having a hell of a time defusing the bomb. He says it has a secondary timer, which is activated remotely. They are in there now, six of them, working their asses off. So if we come across Riely, and he has a cell, we need to get that thing out of his hands.” “Great.” She pushed her bangs out of her eyes and slipped the cap back on.

“And Shawn called. Said the print on the coffee cup was Riely’s.” “I knew it. Anything from the hotel?” “Nope, nothing yet. You’ve only been asleep about two hours.” “Do you need to sleep? I’ll take watch.” “I’m good for now.” “Family?” she probed. “Huh?” Picking up his paper he began to read. “Your family calling?” “Yeah, my Na a, I mean Mom, wanted to know when I’ll be visiting again.” “Ahhh, what did you tell her?” “You know you snore?” He casually flipped to the page of the paper. “I do not.” “Yes, you do. A little cute snort type noise.” “Gabe Blackhawk, I do not snore.” Chuckling, he leaned over and kissed her. “I told them I would be home very soon. That I had someone special I wanted them to meet.” “Really?” “Really.” He kissed her again, deeply. She sucked in a breath and tried to calm her pounding heart. He pulled back and went back to reading. “You do snore.” “Do not.” She sat back and watched the car in the hotel parking lot. “I hope we’re not spinning our wheels here. Do you think we should talk to the manager?” “Nope, bad part of town. Likely the manager is dirty. Do you really think he’s here?” he asked, eyeing her over the top of the paper. “Yes.” “Then we wait. Always go with your gut. Here,” he handed her the entertainment section of the paper. “Best part of our job… waiting.” “No kidding.” She started reading, occasionally glancing up to watch the car. She looked around and spotted the Starbucks half block over. “I’m going to grab some coffee. Want something?” His gaze followed her to the coffee shop. “Yeah get me a cup of coffee, black.” “You got it.” “Here, take this, just in case. My work cellular is programmed under ‘my cell’.” He threw her the phone again. She caught it with a quick flick of her wrist. “Good reflexes.” She winked at him, he grinned back. She made the short walk to Starbucks. Tugging open the door, out of habit, she surveyed the shop as she went to stand in line. It was crowded, full up of patrons. It was on one of those up glances that she spotted him. He was on the computer and intent in what he was doing, three cups of coffee sat on the table next to him. It’s my lucky day. Why hadn’t I thought to check the coffee shop? He didn’t see her yet. Trying not to appear obvious, Kally drew Gabe’s phone from her pocket and very casually dialed his work cell as she tried to back out of the shop. Didn’t work; Riely saw her before she could take the last few steps to the door. She could see the panic in his expression then it turned to calm acceptance. He very unhurriedly shut down his computer and pulled a phone from his pocket.

“Agent Voker, how nice to see you again.” They were maybe three tables away from each other—not far. She could hear him clearly. People between them didn’t appear to notice their byplay as if they were old friends, striking up a conversation. In one table a mother and her small daughter enjoyed their coffee, the little girl squealing in joy as her mother tweaked her nose and kissed her cheek. Kally’s heart dropped. She couldn’t even pull her weapon in this situation, too many people and Riely knew it. He sat coolly with his laptop closed, his hands resting on top of his computer. Under his hands sat the phone. Kally realized what he was saying by his posture. He could use that phone to set off a bomb at any time. She knew Arnie’s team was working in the warehouse and all he needed to do was make a call. “Come have a seat, Agent Voker.” Placing her hand on her gun, Kally weaved her way around the tables, kicked the chair back and settled in directly in front of him. She never did get to complete the call to Gabe, but she did dial and never closed the connection. Hopefully he would realize what was happening. Kally could feel her temperature rising. She wanted to jack him up against the wall and cuff him in a bad way… but with all the people in the crowded shop and no backup, she couldn’t chance it. “Dane Riely, you’re under arrest. I want you to get up and walk out that front door, peacefully.” He laughed. “Agent Voker, I don’t think you’re in any position to make demands on me right now. You see…” he fingered his coat. Opening the material, he peeled it away from his chest and raised the bottom of his shirt just enough for her to see the explosive belt attached to his body. “I’m in the position of power in this situation. And this cellular,” he held up the phone, “is my ticket out of here. With this phone I can detonate, not only the belt on me, but also the warehouse where your friends are working so diligently. How about this… how about you walk out of here with me, or I’ll kill you before you can breathe the word ‘help’? I think it’s a good time for us to get to know each other. It’s been a long time coming.” Kally swore under her breath. Damn if he didn’t have her caught. She tried to take a calming breath. Her heart was beating, thumping against her chest. She felt a cold sweat come over her body. She would get him out of this shop, and then she would take charge. Of this… she felt confident. “Okay, Riely, have it your way. I’ll walk out of here with you, no problem…” Before she could finish Gabe came strolling into the shop. On the surface he might appear calm and composed, as if he was an afternoon customer looking for his java fix, but underneath the facade she could see the simmering anger starting to boil. He took in the situation, smiled, and made a quick veer to the right toward them as if he were greeting his buddies. Riely held up his hand, Gabe froze. “Gabe,” Kally said quietly, “he’s wired, stay back. Get out of here,” she ordered him. She hoped to God he would follow her instructions this time. He shook his head; she glared at him and nodded to the affirmative. “Go,” she said. She could tell by his expression he wasn’t listening to her. His eyes locked with Riely’s. Although he didn’t move, his expression reached across the space that separated them and shouted, “I am going to kill you.”

“Take me, Riely. I’m valuable.” He stepped one foot closer to them. “I don’t think so Detective. I’d much rather have a Fed than a local, but I’m going to need a car, so go ahead and get that for me.” He very casually rose, pulled her up and draped his arm around Kally’s shoulders, his phone gripped in his other hand. She made eye contact with Gabe and when she saw his body tense, shook her head to the negative. She didn’t want him to do anything stupid. She was going to put up with Riely long enough to get him out of the area then she would take care of him. She didn’t go through four months of defensive tactics in the FBI Academy for nothing. “Go, Gabe, we’ll be fine, go get the car,” she reassured him, hoping he would take her hint. Gabe gave her one last intense stare then exited the shop. “Now, I very much doubt he left quietly. Tell you what we are going to do…” He tightened his arm around her as if he was a boyfriend keeping his girl close. He walked her toward the door. “We’re going to stay together, you and I until we get to where I want to go. If you make one move… I’m going to hit send and blow both of us and that warehouse to kingdom come.” Kally felt her first small inkling of fear as she fisted her hand in rage. She wasn’t confident she could disarm him fast enough to keep him from hitting the button. Too many lives were at stake, Arnie and his boys were still working in the warehouse, the coffee shop was crammed full. She was going to have to wait. She hoped Gabe had a plan. They walked out of the building and Kally kept her eyes open for any opportunity to move. Still crowded, people milled around, scooting around them. Gabe was there, casually sitting in his undercover vehicle. He rolled down the window. “Come on Riely, here’s your chance, hop in, but leave Kally here,” Gabe ordered. “Oh I don’t think so Detective, I think we are all going together.” Riely shoved her toward the back. “Get in, sit next to me.” Kally scooted into the car. She watched where he placed the cell phone, his finger was on the send button. He didn’t loosen his grip. Shit. “Why don’t you take me back to my room, Detective. Looks like I might need to pack up.” Gabe didn’t say a word. He maneuvered the half block drive to Dane’s room at the hotel in an unhurried pace. When they arrived, Dane nodded to Gabe. “Give Kally the keys.” After a brief hesitation, Gabe handed her the car keys. Their hands briefly touched, her eyes met his, she saw the worry in his expression. She knew he wasn’t taking any of what Riely was doing casually and had probably called in the entire SWAT team by now. “Get out, Detective.” Without taking the hand from the phone, Riely tugged the room key from his pocket with his other one and threw it at Gabe. “Open the door Blackhawk.” Gabe folded out of the car and walked to the door. He opened it and turned to them with swipe of his arm in mock invitation. He raised his eyebrows at Riely as if to say now what. “See that duffle bag on the bed? Load it into the trunk then back off.” Riely yelled out the window.

Gabe went into the room and came out with a black leather duffle. He popped the trunk and threw it in with a load crash. There was his anger, she thought. Gabe walked toward the back of the car, leaned in and made one statement. “Harm her and death won’t be good enough for you.” His quiet voice sounded raw and she knew he was dead serious. He stepped back toward the room. “He is possessive, isn’t he? Get into the front.” He pushed Kally out of the car, following her. She slid out of the back. Linking his arms in hers, he shoved her through the passenger side then slid in after. Kally waited for the right time. Sooner or later he would have to release his death grip on that phone. “You know Agent Voker, I’ve been wanting to spend some one on one time with you. Now it looks like we’ll have it. Start the car.” Kally did as he requested while watching Gabe. He stood by the hotel and appeared ready to spring. “Drive,” Riely ordered. Kally backed up and headed out of the parking lot onto the street. **** The minute Kally drove away, Gabe vaulted into action. He flipped open his phone. “Go,” was all he said. Confident his undercover team would pick up Kally, he waited for his ride. Shawn came tearing into the lot. Gabe jumped into the car barely making it before Shawn ripped out of the lot. “Plane up?” he asked. “Yeah, boss and the local police copter, the quiet one. We’re locked on, that tracker you threw on your car will keep us hooked in. Unless they get out of range, we’re good to go.” Gabe turned his radio on to pick up the plane’s broadcast. “Shit, shit, shit, I can’t believe he got her, again.” Gabe punched the dash. “We got her covered from three sides, boss. Don’t worry, we’ll get him.” Gabe ran an unsteady hand through his hair. “Arnie out of the warehouse?” “Yep, he’s on his way… in case we make a stop.” “Good. Got my gear, sniper rifle?” Shawn pointed to the duffle bag in the back of the car, “Just where you left it for me.” Gabe pulled on his SWAT headset so he could track the chatter of his team trailing Riely’s car. He reached in the back and grabbed his gear. As soon as Kally had dialed his number and never spoken, he alerted SWAT. He saw Riely through the window of the coffee shop when he approached. At that point, he could almost guess what was going to happen. As soon as he left, he alerted his undercover gang crew and the plane. If anyone could track a bad guy unnoticed, it was them. “Other guys in the chopper?” he asked as he tugged on his equipment. “Yep.” “S-1, give me a current location?” He said into his radio. He was calm now. He needed to be, had to be for Kally’s sake. This he was familiar with, the routine of the hunt. “They’re heading for the freeway onramp at 24th Avenue,” one of his gang squad announced. At the same time the plane was broadcasting.

“Okay, okay.” He chanted as he monitored each broadcast. “Boss, what’s the plan?” Shawn headed onto the freeway entrance. They couldn’t be more than sixty seconds behind them, Gabe thought. He had an idea, hopefully that would give him the edge. “Let’s hope Kally has one. He’s wired with explosives so we can’t force the issue or Kally is dead.” “Boss, usually wouldn’t consider the innocent.” Gabe tensed at Shawn’s suggestion. No way in hell he would ever do anything to jeopardize Kally’s life. “This is not one of those usual situations, Shawn. Take me to a place where the helicopter can pick me up.” “Ten-four, boss.” Shawn hit his siren and the accelerator at the same time. **** “We don’t have to do this Dane.” Kally weaved through traffic and prayed Gabe was somewhere behind her. She checked the review mirror. She thought she glimpsed a shot of one of Gabe’s men in an unmarked car. “We’ll do whatever I say we do,” Dane barked at her. She felt a tug on her weapon. Instinctually her hand went down to secure it. She knocked Dane’s hand out of the way. God, she wished she could draw it and blow his head off. She was still furious he had tried to kill her, once. Left a bad taste in her mouth. “Agent Voker, or may I call you, Kally? Well it doesn’t matter, Kally, take your hand off that weapon right now or I’ll blow us both up along with all the innocent bystanders around us. I certainly have nothing to loose at this point except life in prison. I don’t think those are very good odds for me.” Kally ground her teeth, sucked in a breath and eased her grip. She could taste the anger in her mouth. God dammit. She was stuck. She knew by now Gabe had called his men out of the warehouse, but she didn’t have a death wish. She slowly put her hand back on the steering wheel. She tried to ignore her inner voice when he tugged her gun from the holster. Great, now he has one more weapon. “What’s the plan here, Dane? Now, you’re holding a Federal Agent hostage. Maybe we can make a deal. I can’t see why I couldn’t pull over and let you out. No one needs to know, just between you and I.” He laughed at her suggestion. She bit her lip to keep from swearing at him. She had never wanted to harm anyone in her life more than she did right now. “Honestly, Kally, do you think I’m that stupid? Do you think I don’t know your game? Don’t talk to me that way.” He pointed the gun at her. Her heart did a little flipflop in her chest. Agitated, she watched the gun tremble in his hand. “Okay, Dane, okay. We’ll play this anyway you want. Put the gun down.” We’ll do it your way until I find the right moment, she thought. She was trained to get that gun out of his hand with the flick of her wrist. She wasn’t worried about the weapon. It was the damn explosives strapped to his body and that cellular phone is his shaky hand holding her back.

“Get off here.” Kally complied. They were getting close to the industrial end of town, back around the warehouse. She decided to try a different tactic on him. “Tell me why you’re doing this, Dane?” she asked as he barked out directions. “The babies, it’s about the babies, Agent Voker. So many people killing the innocent. It’s not right…it’s not fair. Are you for abortion, Agent Voker?” Kally wasn’t sure how to respond. He seemed to be getting shakier. An unpredictable, emotional criminal was the worst to deal with. Sweat was pouring down his face. She could almost smell his psychosis. The symptoms manifested themselves in the way he switched to her formal name. Didn’t take an M.D. to figure out what was going on, he was unstable and extremely dangerous. She made a quick decision. “No I’m not Dane, I think it’s wrong and should be banned.” She sighed a little breath of relief when he lowered the gun and tucked it in between his legs. “That’s good, Kally. I knew you had the capacity to understand. I hoped we could have a meeting of minds, you and I. You are so persistent, so…” Kally could hear his stress returning. She lowered her voice, tried to keep it even and sympathetic but not sarcastic. It was as if she was dealing with a lighted stick of dynamite in the hands of a child who wanted to see a fireworks show. Hell of a position to be in. “No, I understand completely, Dane. It’s wrong. I agree with you.” “Good.” The relief in his voice was evident. She tried to steady her rapidly beating pulse. “Stop here.” He had her pull into the parking lot of a large warehouse. It was another of the abandoned manufacturing plants, not much around, no other traffic. They were only two warehouses down from his original location. She checked her rearview mirror and didn’t see anything. Her heart dropped. God she hoped someone was tracking them. “See, this is where I really live. The other was a decoy, to draw you there, Kally. Get out.” He pointed the gun back at her. Kally briefly made eye contact with him. She could see the madness lurking there, around the edges of his dilated pupils. She was fucked if she went into that warehouse. It was better to keep him out in the open. She scooted out of the car. He followed her, the gun trained on her the entire time. He pocketed the cellular phone and she celebrated silently. Now she was in a much better position. She faced him and slowly raised her hands in the air, not all the way up, only about halfway; he would never notice the difference. The best position for her to strike was with her hands up ready to go. “That’s good Agent Voker, you keep those hands up. I like it when I’m the one in control.” “You are in complete control, Dane.” He moved closer. There was something in his expression that worried her. She smiled, a slow raising of her lips, she tried to make it sultry, sexy. “Complete control. You’re calling all the shots now.” She whispered to him and talked to herself. And I want you to keep moving closer. The closer you move the better chance I have at getting that gun out of your hands and immobilizing you. “That’s nice, Kally.” He stepped in. She willed him closer with her eyes. She cleared her mind and concentrated on drawing him in with the only power she had now, the power of being a woman.

“Sure, I like you in control, Dane. It’s sexy.” She purred as she ran her tongue over her lips. She saw a spark in his eyes, a small little flame that she was hoping to ignite. She recognized the look—desire. And she hoped to use it against him. “I’m glad about that.” He drew the weapon up. At first, Kally froze, her breath stopped. What the hell is he doing? She tried to make her brain work. She had never had someone this close with a loaded gun pointed at her before. She always prayed if she got in this situation, training would immediately take over, but for a few seconds her brain was frozen in fear. He ran the barrel of the gun over her cheek and stroked it. “So soft. You are truly a beautiful woman, Kally. Maybe we can come to some sort of agreement.” The minute the words left his mouth, her stupor broke, along with everything around her. She dropped her hand to maneuver the gun from his grip, simultaneously, the soft whoosh of helicopter echoed overhead and a black machine swooped down on them. Dane screamed as she grabbed the gun, twisted it, and extracted it directly from his grip. Just like she had done in training. Amazing, after all these years, muscle memory when she really needed it. She immediately shifted back and raised the weapon pointing it toward him, but she wasn’t fast enough. He lifted the phone out of his pocket and held it in the air with his finger posed on the send button. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the helicopter come lower and lower, black masked men were hanging off the sides. Suddenly, they were swarming around her. It was like the scene from an action movie, unbelievable. One of the men came to a skidding halt next to her. The copter immediately lifted and swooped away. “Hey, babe, how’s it going?” Half a dozen men immediately surrounded Riely, weapons pointed, faces masked. Kally tried not to cry in relief at Gabe’s appearance. “I’ve been better.” She kept her voice calm. “Riely drop the phone,” Gabe yelled “I’m wired man, take one step closer and we all go. I’m not kidding.” Riely held up the phone, his hands high. Gabe trained his rifle directly on him. “Drop the phone, Riely, or I will shoot you,” Gabe yelled. Kally also screamed, “Drop it Riely.” She could feel her lip rising in a snarl. “One more chance, drop the phone, Riely,” Gabe warned. “Now Detective Blackhawk, can you imagine what the press would say if you shot an unarmed man? I mean do you really know this is a remote device, or it could simply be a cell phone?” “Drop it, Riely. I will shoot you.” Gabe articulated each word and Kally could hear the tension in his voice. Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it in her ears. If Riely blew himself up, he would kill all of them. She didn’t want anything to happen to Gabe, she could care less about Riely, but she wasn’t ready to end either of their lives. “Do it, Riely,” Kally yelled. They were in a standoff, Riely with his finger on the button, she and Gabe with guns trained. Kally wanted to shoot him in the worst way, but she wasn’t one hundred percent sure she could hit him. It was that little nagging doubt that kept her from making a move. It all seemed to be moving in slow motion, like the action movie was playing frame by frame.

Finally, Riely made a move, one twitch with his thumb and Gabe shot. The bullet hit Riely’s wrist, causing the phone to fly. Riely screamed and grabbed his arm. “Next time, Riely, it’s shoot to kill.” Not wasting any time, Kally rushed forward and slammed Riely against the car. Grabbing her cuffs, she yanked his arms behind his back and hooked him up tighter than a trussed Thanksgiving turkey. He was screaming about his wrist hurting. She didn’t care. It seemed anti-climatic, his arrest. All this work and it boiled down to one police surveillance shift, a small chase and the simple element of surprise. She was almost disappointed it went so easy, but she was grateful Gabe had solved her dilemma by being a crack shot. A marked police car roared into the parking lot with lights flashing, sirens blaring and skidded to a halt. Several unmarked cars followed. Uniformed officers jumped out, guns drawn. “It’s okay we got him.” Gabe yelled. “Call Arnie, tell him we have the secondary timer, but we need a tech over here. He’s wired.” He picked up his radio. “I want everyone to get back in their cars now and back off,” He announced. As soon as he said the words, cars begin squealing out of the area. No one questioned him. It was obvious he was in command and trusted. “You,” he pointed to the officer, “Wait.” “Ten-four.” The policeman waited. Kally looked around trying to find a place to keep Riely before the bomb squad arrived. Luckily the parking lot for the warehouse was huge. “Gabe, we need to isolate him, clear everyone out,” she informed him. Gabe nodded and snatched Riely by his arm. She could see the anger in his actions, the clenching of his jaw, the way he walked. “Clear out you guys. Ride back with Officer Beckman. Take Kally with you.” The five other guys crammed into the uniform officer’s car. Kally didn’t move. One of the men approached her. She shook her head and pointed to the vehicle, “Get in,” she commanded. He followed her order. “No way in hell you’re getting me out of here, Gabe Blackhawk. And you can forget arguing.” He opened his mouth. She gave him a pointed stare. He snapped his mouth shut. “Go.” He ordered the uniform. He nodded and hopped back into the car and skidded out of the parking lot. Walking Riely into the middle of the empty parking lot, Gabe shoved him down onto the ground to sit then he cuffed his feet. “Why don’t you wait for us right here.” He grinned at Riely after his remark. “And if you decide to even budge before the bomb squad gets here, I’ll be standing right there,” he pointed to the outskirts of the lot, “waiting to show you how good of a marksman I am. Understand?” He raised his rifle and pointed it toward him. “Yeah.” Riely appeared defeated now. Not so confident anymore. Gabe guided Kally away from Riely and sat on the hood of his car. He set his rifle in the low and ready position and waited. “Thanks for taking that shot. I wasn’t sure…” He took his eyes off of Riely for a moment and met her gaze, his ice green eyes unflinching. She could see the simmer of anger there, under the surface.

“No worries, babe, I was sure of the shot. It was my pleasure. If I could have killed him I would. Unfortunately, common sense kicked in.” “Well… thanks.” Then he smiled, a huge white tooth grin. His attitude helped relieve her stress and she knew it was going to be okay. “No problem.” Within twenty minutes, Arnie and his team arrived. They took over, wrapped Riely in a protective vest, and hauled him off with them. It happened so fast, Kally didn’t even have time to think; now all she felt was relief. She was happy his capture had gone well. He didn’t seem so larger than life now, just a regular man, who had gone to the wrong side of the law in his zeal for a cause. It was sad. They headed back to Riely’s vehicle at the hotel. After acquiring the search warrant, they decided to start with his car. Popping open the trunk, Gabe whistled. Kally followed his gaze. The trunk was full of equipment, explosives of all sorts, wires, and tools. Kally grinned. “I wouldn’t doubt if some of that matches the same stuff we have from the bombing crime scene, both of them.” “I wouldn’t either.” Kally leaned her hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “Nice job, Detective.” He turned around and tugged her body into his. Then he kissed her, right in front of everyone. She enjoyed the closeness of him, his smell, his body pressed against her. Made her feel alive. There were a few key moments today she wasn’t sure she was going to make it. She loved this man. “Ready for that camping trip to Glacier National with one sleeping bag?” “Yes Detective, I’m ready and willing.” “That’s good Agent Voker, real good.”

Chapter Thirteen “Gabe, it’s incredible.” She twirled in a circle as she took in the view, above the tree line on the Road to the sun. They were at one of the viewpoints for Glacier National Park overlooking an unbelievably beautiful waterfall. The water crashed into the rocks below, the roar could be heard in the distance, the mist rising from below made it appear magical as if Camelot should be sitting on the cliff, above the falls. Astonishing didn’t begin to describe what she saw. She was breathless. The park was God’s country. Colors, she could see every color of the rainbow and more green, blue, white, so crisp and clear. The air was fresh, clean like it had been through a washing machine and come out smelling like roses. She sucked in a calming breath and slowly released it. She was in love with this place and feeling fantastic. The case was over, she was with Gabe, she couldn’t ask for more. “Come on, I have something for you.” He held his hand out and she placed hers in it. They had two weeks. Two glorious weeks to rest, relax and explore each other. They planned on spending a week in the park, then travel and visit Gabe’s family for the remaining time. The case on Riely was iron clad and he was re-thinking his position on pleabargaining in a Federal Penitentiary. Devlin remained in a coma. After all the work, Kally was still amazed at how it had fallen together. All triggered by a Starbucks coffee cup. Gabe led her down to their campsite, and sat her down on one of his folding chairs. “Stay here.” She smiled as he jogged to his truck and pulled a small cooler from the back. “What do you have there?” Sitting on a stump next to her, he set the cooler on the ground and with a little simulated drum roll she found most engaging, he opened it. “First, new to do pad. Personalized.” Then he pulled out a bottle of champagne and popped the top. She laughed as liquid went all over both of them. Kally accepted the paper pad with a little squeak of glee. Then she realized the top of the pad had a silk ribbon attached to it, and hanging from the ribbon was a ring. “Read it.” Kally read the inscription on the paper pad and tried not to be distracted by Gabe, a big bottle of champagne and a glowing diamond. “To Kally, my love, my life… and hopefully… my wife. To Kally Blackhawk, may your to do list be long… but never too long to pencil in your husband.” His name was the first entry—the words “Marry Gabe” written in sprawling cursive. Tears formed in her eyes and she looked up at him. “Yes?” Laughing, she launched herself into his arms and kissed all over his face, not missing a spot. Chuckling, he wrapped his arms around her and anchored her to him. “That’s a yes, right? You’ll be my wife, Kally. I love you, babe, I want you in my life, to have my babies, and grow old with me.” He whispered as he kissed each corner of

her mouth, then concluded with an open mouth kiss that left her breathless, but not too breathless to answer him. What a wonderfully romantic thing to say to her. “Yes. That’s a yes, yes, yes.” He blew out a breath. He seemed as if the weight of the world lifted off his shoulders. “Were you worried? You, my fearless SWAT leader, worried over a little marriage proposal?” “Babe, SWAT is nothing compared to this. Thought I was going to pass out there for a second.” Leaning back, she untied the ribbon from the ring and handed it to him. “Put it on.” He set her on her feet, reversed positions and sank down to one knee before her. Kally glanced down at his dark head and wondered how the hell she had gotten so lucky. Gently, he lifted her hand and slipped it on her finger. It was beautiful, and fit perfectly, just like him. Sinking down to her knees before him, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I love you. I’m happy to share your life.” As if an after thought, he kissed her. “You can transfer can’t you?” “Yes, of course.” “You want to live here, right?” Kally laughed. “Gabe, I want to live anywhere you are.” “Thanks. My family…” She set her finger on his lips, “Not even an issue, say no more. God… I’m so in love with you. How, how did we ever make it before we met each other?” “I don’t know.” He lifted into his arms and headed for the tent. He set her down and unzipped the flap. She slipped inside and dropped to her knees on their sleeping bag. He knelt facing her. She ran a hand over his face, caressing him, thanking fate for bringing him to her. Slowly, she ran her hand into his hair, loving the feel of it, wanting him, craving his touch. “Undress me,” she whispered. He began by slipping her sweatshirt over her head and tossing it aside. She did the same with his. Running her hands over his muscular chest she mapped every muscle. The feel of him, she could lose her own identity just by touching him. Her hands slipped over his nipples, and she massaged them with her thumbs. She leaned forward and took one into her mouth. He groaned and his hips jerked against her. His hands fell to her head, caressed her hair. His taste, she loved his taste, so unique, like sipping the finest wine, smooth and silky, she could feast on tawny colored skin all day and never be satisfied. “I love the taste of you.” She worked at his pants, urging him to be rid of them. At the same time he undid her bra and threw it into the corner. She struggled, unsnapped then forced his pants over his hips until he decided he better help, or she would rip them off herself. Soon the rest of their clothing joined her bra in the corner. Placing her hands on his chest, she pushed him back onto the sleeping bag and let her mouth glide over his body, traveling the length until she took his hardness into her mouth and sucked. He moaned and arched, his hips following her mouth. She watched him as

his neck arched and his eyes closed in pleasure. His hands were fisted in the sleeping bag, clutching. His reaction only intensified her arousal. He was so sexy. She crawled on top of him. Positioned, she sunk down, leaning over to kiss him, tangling her tongue with his. When she released his mouth she huskily whispered a promise to him, “I will love you Gabe, like no one ever will.” “Yes.” His voice came out gritting as he clutched her hips and pressed up. Relaxing she let her body take him in, as far as she could. “Ahhh.” He was deep, so deep, she had never felt this way before, so full. They matched in ways she hadn’t imagined. “Take me Kally, take me in as far as you can.” She did. Riding him, she moved up and down, his thrusts bringing him further inside. So full, she was so full—incredible. “Good, so good,” he cried out as she rocked quicker, up and down, letting him slide in and out. She could feel herself rising to that place only he could take her. “Gabe.” With a mind of its own, her body pushed faster, harder. He thrust with her, their lips meeting, tongues partnering, making their union more intimate. She was so close, so close to flying. Arching, she leaned back and took him in one more time before she exploded. He came with her, hanging onto her. Easing onto his chest she could feel his heart pounding. Sweat rolled off his body, she loved his smell. Licking his chest, she leaned up and kissed him, so caught up in the feeling they created together. “Love you, always,” she whispered “Love you, too, Iksimihkat.” Tucking them into the sleeping bag, she curled around him and relaxed. It was so nice to unwind, the stress of the ongoing investigation finally over. She sighed and smiled as Gabe stroked her hip. “I’d like to take you home tomorrow,” he said tucking her head under his chin. “I’d like that. I hope they like me, your family.” “Ohkiimaan, they will love you, as I do.” “Ahhh thanks. That’s romantic. You know Detective, you’re a very romantic man.” “Am not.” He yawned and closed his eyes. She knew he was tired. He never tried to show it, but he wasn’t sleeping well. Every once in a while, he would wake up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, trying to shake off whatever nightmare had claimed him. She recognized the signs, traumatic stress. She had worked long enough in law enforcement to know the symptoms. She had never had to kill anyone on the job, but the first couple years as an agent, she had nightmares every night that someday she might have to, or worse that she would be killed. Balance. He needed to re-group. “Gabe?” “Hummm.” He looped an arm around her and hugged her close. “Do your people have a cleansing ceremony?” His eyes popped open. “What?” “Your people… do they… I hate to sound stupid… but in the movies Native Americans always have some sort of cleansing ceremony. I’m sorry to seem so naïve about your culture.” He chuckled and stroked her cheek. “You don’t sound stupid. There is plenty of time for you to learn my culture. I don’t expect you to know everything.” “Ummm, well okay, do you then? Have some way to ward off evil spirits?” He stiffened in her arms.

“Because, I don’t know, I’m not superstitious but it seems like you’re haunted. You’ve been through a lot lately, a lot of stress, maybe you could use a cleansing. Maybe we both could.” Dropping his forehead against hers, he sighed. “We don’t really believe in evil, to us bad spirits can be controlled. We believe in Iitsipatahpiopa, the Source of Life. And yes, we have a purification ceremony.” “Could we… would you mind… I’d love to learn it?” She didn’t want to push him, and maybe if she made it her idea, he would be more receptive. “You, Agent Voker, are a very clever woman.” He ran his hands through her hair and eased her onto back, settling between her legs. “I’ll check with our medicine man to see if he would be willing to lead us. Normally women are not allowed, but he can bless us, and we can do our own.” “Good.” She stopped when he kissed her. His large hand traveled up the side of her leg, and he hooked it behind him. Running her foot along his ass, she smiled. “I have a purification ceremony right now, though.” He was hard against her, probing, asking for entry. “Oh, I think I’ll like learning this one.” Slipping inside, he audibly sucked in a breath and captured her hands in his. Flexing her hands, she groaned in pleasure. “I know you’ll like it.”

Chapter Fourteen “Three days ago, Dane Riely was charged under the U.S. Patriot Act for acts of domestic terrorism. He will face life imprisonment for the bombing of two federally funded facilities, one in Oakland, California that killed six people and a more recent attempted bombing of two facilities in Boise, Idaho. Today, he was remanded to the custody of the Federal Marshals for transfer to Oakland, California. In other news…” Gabe shut off the radio. “Sounds like he was picked up okay.” “Yeah, well Jo owed me a favor. Couple of her boys came up and got him.” “We should eventually call her and thank her.” “Oh we will. She knew exactly what she was doing when she sent me to meet you.” “Yeah, I suspect she did.” Gabe drove up to his mother’s small house and parked the truck. “You ready?” He brushed the hair back from Kally’s face. His mother would love her. He knew she was nervous about meeting his family. She had never been close to her family, like he was his. He could tell the experience was intimidating. “Okay.” “Babe, relax, they will love you.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, taking in her smell. Roses, she always had that soft, feminine smell. Drove him nuts. It made him want to take her back to the woods for another mind-blowing week. Despite the fact she was so nervous, she was still incredibility beautiful and composed. The last week with her had been an offering from the gods as far as he was concerned. “Come on.” He slid out of the truck. Coming around, he opened her door for her and took her small hand in his. He towered over her. She wasn’t necessarily a small woman but he was tall, an oddity with his people, like his eyes. Teased terribly as a child; kids had called him the Jolly Green Giant. “Gabe!” A darker version of him came running out the door and launched himself into Gabe’s arms. “Hey.” Gabe laughed and hugged his brother back. “How’s it going Little Hawk?” Everyone in his family carried an honorary Blackfoot, as well as an English name. “Great. Good to have you home.” “Well it’s good to be home.” “Kally, this is my little brother. We call him Little Hawk. His English name is Aaron.” “Hello, Aaron.” She reached down and shook his hand. “Is this your mate, Gabe, cuz she’s got that thing Na a talks about?” Gabe ran a hand along the back of his neck in embarrassment. His mother always talked about a special aura, a glow his true mate would visually carry. If he hadn’t already asked Kally to marry him he would be thoroughly embarrassed right now. “Yes, Little Hawk, this is my chosen mate.” “Kewl.” Kally glanced at him and smiled. “Where is everyone?” “Making Babies is at her house. She’ll be over later for dinner. Na a and Nina are inside.”

“Let’s go then.” He turned to Kally. “Na a and Nina mean mother and father.” “Beautiful language. Thanks for translating.” Reclaiming Kally’s hand he led her into the house trailing after his bouncing younger brother. “Making Babies?” Laughing Gabe glanced at her. “It’s a long story. All I will say is… I have six nieces and nephews.” She chuckled, that cute little giggle he loved. “Gabriel.” His mother greeted him at the door and began speaking their native language. “Na a, English please.” He nodded toward Kally. Placing her hands on the side of his face, she kissed his cheeks then stared deep into his eyes. His mother could read him as no other. “You have pain, something you must purify. You are also having cravings, my son. You must fight this.” “Yes.” His mother was intuitive, something she had been all of his life. She knew his daily struggle to overcome his ghosts. His father stood at her shoulder, a proud Blackfoot Warrior. “You also have extreme wellness and balance entering your life.” His father announced. Gabe drew Kally forward. “Mother, meet Kally. She has agreed to become my Ohkiimaan.” “Ahhh, yes, Gabe so beautiful, surely a gift from the sun.” Tears formed in his mother’s eyes. “Welcome, we are pleased you have chosen to join our Blackfoot family.” She hugged Kally. Gabe could see the stress and worry lifting off her shoulders. He immediately felt relief. “Gabriel, so pleased to have you visit.” His father gave him a quick hug and clasped his arm in a warrior greeting, his fingers wrapped round Gabe’s forearm and his in turn wrapped around his father’s. “You are well, son?” “Never better, Nina, thank you.” His father glanced toward Kally and smiled. “Yes, I can see that.” “Welcome daughter.” He kissed Kally’s cheek. “Thank you for gifting us with your presence and coming into my son’s life.” “No, thank you.” She laughed and hugged Gabe’s father. **** Dinner was its usual event. Bringing her six children, his sister stole the show. Kally, surrounded by the small brown children, seemed to love it. He was glad, because he hoped very soon to have one of their own. They never discussed it but he wanted children, soon. Finally, after the meal ended and the house grew quiet, his parents and brother in bed, Gabe was able to claim some time with Kally. Settling his arm around her shoulders, he snuggled her close. There was this need in him, to keep her by his side. Sighing sleepily, she tucked her head into his chest. “Soooo… was that so painful?”

“Gabe, your family is wonderful, so warm. They have something my family lacks.” “Well I’m sure your family is loving in its own way.” Laying her hand on his chest, she rubbed and he heated. That’s all it took… a simple touch, a little whiff of her perfume, and he was lost. Caressing her hair, he wondered how he had ever lived without her. “Sure, we love each other. But… it’s different. There’s a warmth here I can’t describe.” Adjusting her hand and sliding it down onto his erection, he kissed her head. “There’s a warmth here all right.” As she stroked him through his pants, he thought he might lose it right there, in his parents’ living room. “You’re such a man.” Chuckling, he leaned over and kissed her. Touching her lips with his, he began to want her in a way so absorbing it almost hurt. He could feel his body preparing to claim her. His heart tripped a beat, another, then settled into a rapid rhythm. “Man enough for you?” “Oh yeah.” She began to rub him, he settled his hand on hers and showed her where to stroke. Then suddenly, she stopped. “Gabe, we’re in your mother’s house.” “We’re in my house. I do have a bedroom here, you know,” he said as he started to unbutton her shirt. “Please tell me it’s away from all the other rooms?” Pushing her shirt off, he attacked her bra, peeling it off her body. Kissing her shoulders, he tried to distract her. Her skin was so soft, tasted fine, there was that want again, taking over his brain. “The farthest,” he said with his mouth against her neck. She arched and moaned when his mouth settled on her nipple and he sucked. He loved the way her body responded to him, how she pushed against him when she wanted more and that sound she gave out when she was aroused. “Take me there,” she whispered as her arms came around him. “Oh I will, don’t worry.” But first he had some business to attend to. **** “Okay, so how does this go?” Gabe dropped his backpack and eyed the sweat lodge. Hiking for half a day was all it took to get there. “Now we get naked, completely.” “Really?” Dropping her pack, she sat down on a wooden bench. “Well, we’re not exactly going about this the way we should, but close enough.” “Whaaattt are you taking about? I’m weak with hunger.” “Twenty-four hours is nothing. Try four days without food.” “I’m afraid of what I would look like after four days. I feel horrible enough after one.” Gabe tilted her head up and checked her. She was okay. They had only fasted a short time. “Sure you want to do this, babe?”

“Yes, of course.” She caressed his face. “You need to do this.” “I need a lot of things, that doesn’t mean I get them.” He kissed her cheek and smiled. He was so happy. There was something about the reservation and the park that helped him regain his balance. He hadn’t had a nightmare since they came to Montana. He felt good as if the ghosts were already leaving him. His cravings for alcohol had all but disappeared now that he was home. Pulling his shirt over his head he threw it at her. “Get undressed, meet me in the lodge. Give me about ten minutes to set up.” “You got it.” When her hand fingered her shirt to remove it, he almost didn’t leave, but she waved him off. “Go.” Grabbing his backpack he slipped into the lodge. It was essentially a modified teepee, sealed to keep out light, the weather and hold in moisture. His grandfather and he had built it when he was a child; they named it the Blackhawk sweat lodge and he had nothing but fond memories of it. Gabe drew on his ceremonial breechcloth, painted his face, and donned his headgear. Grabbing the water bottles from his pack, he started the coals under the rocks. Kally flipped open the tent flap and stepped in. Light filtered in and made her appear Angelic. She was naked as the day she was born. Gabe rose and faced her. Her expression was priceless. “Gabe you look… soooo incredibly sexy.” Smiling, he took her hand in his. “Told you I would wear some of my traditional clothing for you some day.” “Is that…” she fingered the soft leather of his breech cloth, “—are you wearing anything underneath that?” Her fingers began to crawl. Laughing, he slapped her hand. “If you start that, we’ll never get to the purifying ritual. Although…” he kissed her collarbone, “—the way you look, we might not get to it anyway.” She snatched back her hand. “Sorry. Yes, let’s do this.” “Okay.” He led her to the center of the room, which was already heating up beyond normal comfort level. Sinking down, he took her with him. He sat cross-legged and indicated she should do the same. It had been a while since he had done the purification ritual, but the basic elements didn’t change. It was sort of like riding a bike. Reaching for the water, he poured both bottles over the rocks. Steam began to rise, quickly filling the room with a white cloud. It was almost as if they were in a dream. Gabe’s gaze swung to Kally. His future wife. Love poured from him. “Close your eyes and let the steam penetrate your consciousness.” Gabe did the same then he began to sing. He chanted the purification song of his people, letting the music and words sink into his body. He continued, for how long he didn’t know. The steam continued to rise from the red-hot rocks, sizzling, the heat was making it hard to breathe. He gasped in each breath, taking the moisture into his lungs. Suddenly he felt it, the spirits of the dead coming upon him. Opening his eyes he searched for Kally. He could see her through a fog of white. She was where he had sat her, her eyes closed, her lips parted. He turned his head from side to side, trying to figure out what had disturbed him. Then it hit him. So hard he stopped singing, stopped breathing, his body arched up in pain. It was as if someone was ripping his heart out, and he saw them, saw the souls of the dead, pulling, tugging as if they wanted to take him down to hell. He shook his head denying them access.

Then a hand touching his heart soothed him. Kally, she was there, leaning over him, placing her hand on his heart, adding her strength to his. “Let’s fight them together, Gabe.” Her voice came from far away, but it didn’t matter, he got the message. He had never shared his life or heart with any one person the way he wanted to with her. Overlapping his hand on hers, drawing on her strength, he continued chanting and opened himself to her. Infusing his body, heat poured into him. Dropping his head back, he closed his eyes and embraced the warmth, opening his heart to the healing powers of their combined strength. A white light started at the back of his eyelids and spread, encompassing his entire body. He could feel the damaged souls of others trying to take him but Kally wouldn’t let them. He began to float, watching his body from above, his head thrown back, sweat running down, his chant turned louder, stronger. He was lifted higher, rising toward a black space. Kally’s hand reached up and grabbed his leg, jerking him back into his body. As he tumbled down, he felt as if a black cloud left him. The bad spirits rocketed up and out of the teepee. Suddenly, he felt free of the evil haunting him. Kally had helped him heal. Opening his eyes, Gabe’s gaze went to her. She hadn’t moved, still sitting where he left her. Her eyes closed, she swayed to his chanting. When he stopped singing her eyes blinked open and met his gaze. “Okay?” she asked as she wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. “Have you moved?” he asked, confused. “No. What’s wrong?” Reaching over Gabe ran a finger down her cheek. “Nothing, nothing’s wrong. You ready to go?” “Sure, if you are.” “I’m ready.” She uncrossed her legs and stood, swaying slightly as she rose. Concerned, Gabe moved forward and grabbed her. “Babe?” “Wow, a little woozy here.” Grabbing another water bottle from his pack he forced her to take a couple little sips, hoping to rejuvenate her. Flipping back the tent flap, he led her outside, all the time cursing himself for letting her participate in the ritual. He should have known she would take in his pain and make it her own. Despite the fact she hadn’t moved, her soul had reached out to his, as a mate would do. Why didn’t he think this would happen? “I shouldn’t have let you do this.” “Gabe, you didn’t make me do anything. I wanted to come, to be with you. Do you feel better?” “Yes, all better.” “Oh that was interesting. I loved it.” He smiled and pulled a couple power bars from his pack. She was so cute, all mussed, her cheeks rosy red, so inquisitive, everything in his culture was new and unique to her. She was breaking her constraints, experiencing her passion for life. When he first met her, he recognized her craving to feel life, and he loved the fact she was sharing the experience with him. After meeting her father, and getting to know her, he understood why she was awed by the sensuality of his culture. They had talked

about her family, how she never felt fee to be herself, to let go. For three days he had shown her his world, and she was still amazed by it. He liked that. He threw a blanket on the ground and helped her sit. He unwrapped a bar and fed it to her. “What was it that healed you?” “Something right under my nose the whole time, all I needed to do was share the burden. You healed me, Kally. Your love. You bonded with me during the ceremony and guided me to freedom.” “Wow, that’s incredible. I’m glad… and a little tired, but feeling better, thanks for the water.” Gabe pushed her hair from her face, and tried to sort through the wet blond mass. He knew how much she hated her hair in disarray. “You’re incredible.” She smiled and rested her hand against his cheek. “That’s a really sweet thing to say. Thank you for letting me come with you.” He wrapped his arms around her and lowered her to the blanket. “No, I think I should thank you for coming into my life. My prize, Kally, that’s what you are.” “Ahhh, there’s that romantic man coming out again.” Gabe grinned. “I have some sweeter things to say if you’re game.” She touched the leather of his loincloth and ran her fingers underneath. He moaned when she encountered his bare ass, her hands stilled and she raised her eyes. “There isn’t one stitch of clothing under this loincloth, is there?” He could see the flare of desire come into her eyes. He laughed then groaned when her hands began massaging. “Not one stitch.” “Nice,” She said as she ran her hands down his backside. Gabe kissed her. He began slow and leisurely, starting at her jaw and worked his way to her mouth then claiming her lips. She responded, her hands leaving his body to dive into his hair. He touched his tongue to hers, drawing her into his mouth, teasing her to enter. She did, her tongue tangling. He opened his mouth and let her in and angling his head, slid up her body to settle between her legs. “God.” He broke off, between quick pants and sucking breaths, he tried to regain some semblance of the control he was so famous for. She reached up and touched his face, caressing him with the pad of her thumb she ran her finger over his bottom lip. He kissed her thumb. “I love you, Gabe, so much.” At her declaration he was lost. Immediately, his body flamed like dry kindling. He reached down, untied his loincloth and slid it off so he could feel all of her against his hardness. “Um, you know,” her brow furrowed, “we haven’t discussed, we haven’t…” Gabe kissed her jaw and inched down to her collarbone. “I know, Kally, I’ve never had unprotected sex, I swear, you’re safe. I’m not usually so irresponsible, you drive me crazy.” He leaned back and watched for her reaction. “I haven’t either. I’m usually so careful, but I didn’t care. I want to have your children. Want to have them now, later, anytime. I trust you, Gabe, knew you would never hurt me.” “Never Kally.” He traveled down her body with his lips. “Oh yeah, I want children, many children. The sooner the better.” She chuckled at his answer. “Well I’d say we’re off to a running start.”

“Ya think?” He sucked her nipple into his mouth, so smooth, he teased it with his tongue. She arched into him and moaned, her hands clutched his head. He loved her reaction, loved to please her. She tasted amazing, so sweet, he tongued her nipple, teased her, watched her enjoy. If his body wasn’t so anxious, he would snack on her all night. “I love you, Kally.” He whispered as he licked, nipped and kissed her breasts, giving equal amount of attention to both. She tugged on his hair causing him to lean up. “Love me, Gabe. Give me your child,” she whispered as she leaned up and kissed him. “Yes.” His heart clenched in his chest at her assertion. He groaned against her lips as he moved forward and covered her body with his. Savoring the feel of her against him, he slowly entered her, one millimeter at a time, until he slipped home. “Ahhh.” He groaned as he seated himself inside. She wrapped her arms around him, kissing his neck she chanted, “love you, love you.” He tried not to move, wanted to stay and enjoy their closeness, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. He was compelled to slip back then forward, driving in and out. He needed her so bad, had to claim her. He rocked his body against hers, slipping his hands under her, lifting her into his thrusts. “Gabe!” Her body bowed into his, he gritted his teeth and tried to increase her pleasure by slipping in and out slowly but he couldn’t hold on. “Gabe, let go, faster, harder.” “Oh, yeah,” Gabe sighed and gave her what she asked for. He was done playing. He thrust over and over, each slide of his hips took him deeper, faster, loving her hard. She moaned, grasped at his body with her arms and held on. Gabe leaned over and kissed her, melting them together, his tongue drove in with his hips. The pleasure worked from the base of his spine and worked up, he could feel himself expand, hardening, Kally’s mewed cries told him she was enjoying him. “Come for me.” He panted out as he buried his head against her neck and sucked in much needed air. He held on, barely, his heart pounding so hard he thought it would jump out of his chest. Then he felt it, she tightened, tensed, and cried out. Her pleasure urged his own and he threw his head back and roared while he spilled himself. His body finally spent, he lowered onto her, trying to keep most his weight on his arms. She rubbed his back with her hands and cuddled her face against his hair. He could stay right where he was for the rest of his life. He ran a hand over the soft skin of her hip. “Wow.” She smiled as she said it. He brought his head up. She appeared well satisfied, her cheeks flushed, her lips red from his kisses, her hair spread out in disarray underneath her. He had never seen anything so stunning than his woman completely sated. “You okay? I was a bit rough.” He caressed her hair. She giggled and he smiled. “I’m very okay.” He rolled over, settling her on top of him. He stroked her hair back from her face. “How much longer can we stay up here?” Gabe let his fingers trail over her chest to settle on her breasts. He teased her with his fingertips and loved the way her nipples pebbled against his touch. “How long do you want to stay up here? It will begin to cool off in about three hours.”

“As long as we can. Until…” she leaned over and pressed her lips to the racing pulse at his neck. He groaned. “—Until you give me that baby,” she whispered against his skin. He hardened immediately as need tore at him. When she talked like that he felt an incredible swell of desire deep in his belly. He couldn’t wait to see her large with their child. “There’s a cabin about one hundred feet to the north. There’s a wood burning stove and plenty of wood. Nice place to call home for the night.” “Thank God.” She groaned as she rubbed her heat against him in invitation. He was ready to spend the night making love to her, more than ready. “Take me home, Gabe.” “That, I can easily do.” He flipped over, rose and lifted her into his arms.

Chapter Fifteen “I don’t want to do this.” Gabe pulled up the collar of her jacket and trailed his finger down her cheek. She shivered in response and it wasn’t from the cold. November in Washington D.C. was a far cry from the warmth of Idaho, in more ways than the weather. They’d spent the two weeks in Montana on Gabe’s reservation; the weather was changing there as well, however with the love of Gabe’s family close at hand, she never got cold, like she was now. The chill seeped into her bones making her teeth chatter. “Babe, it will be fine. He invited us, remember?” She nodded. She realized her father invited them. They were on the porch outside his southern style mansion; it was late, dark after six o’clock. She could see the dim outline of the large white pillars of the house, lit up in some areas because of the subtle spotlights. She was glad, the pillars gave her something to lean on. The air was brisk, the beginning of a cold winter made her breath puff out in a white cloud. They’d come straight from the airport, their luggage waited in the rental car, in case her father became difficult. She hadn’t spoken to her father since that fateful day in the hospital when he had insulted Gabe. She had no intention of ever talking to him again. When he called, she was stunned. He seemed different on the phone, older. He asked her to come visit, and requested she bring Gabe. At first, she wasn’t going to accept then Gabe talked her into it. He told her forgiveness was needed and family was essential. She had been wrapped in the cozy warmth of Gabe’s family for two weeks now. She didn’t know if she could go back to the stale existence her father created. Gabe leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth softly. “Ohkiimaan, I will do whatever you want to do. Know that. You tell me. This might be your chance to make peace.” She loved it when he called her that. The Blackfoot term of endearment, Ohkiimaan, meant the one closest to his heart. She sucked in a slow breath and took in his scent. That wonderful aroma, floated over her, caressed her and forced her to relax. He was right; she needed to mend fences with her family. They were getting married in the next month. She needed to at least try. “No, you’re right,” she said. He nodded and leaned in to kiss her again. Trailing his lips over her cheek, he finally latched onto her mouth. She took him in and kissed him back. Raising her arms, she tangled her hands in his hair. He made her so hot, his touch, his presence, sometimes he would just stand next to her and she’d want to rip all his clothes off right there. He pulled back slowly, trailing a final small kiss on the corner of her mouth. “I love you,” he whispered as he leaned his forehead against hers. “Oh, Gabe.” She hugged him close. She was so happy. “I love you too.” “You ready?” he asked. Hugged so close to him she realized how much strength he infused into her. “Yeah, okay.” She reluctantly stepped out of his arms and hesitated to ring the doorbell. She recalled what it would sound like, one of those formal chime rings. The

memories began to flood back of a happier time, before she was ten. Before the summer she lost her best friend, her sister. She never told Gabe, never shared that part of herself. “I had a sister. Her name was Catherine,” she announced. His brows furrowed, he spun her around by the arm to look at him directly. “Kally, you never told me you had a sister.” He seemed confused. “I know.” Her gaze dropped. They had shared everything they could about each other, except this. She held back, didn’t want to open the floodgate of emotions her sister’s death always brought. She’d been trained to control her emotions since the age of ten and it wasn’t until she met Gabe, that she realized letting go brought such rewards. “Babe, you said you had a sister? What happened? Why haven’t we discussed this?” He maneuvered her back into his arms, as if he sensed the negativity. He didn’t seem angry, only perplexed. “She died when I was ten. She was nineteen.” He tensed and hugged her close, resting his chin on top of her head. “I’m sorry,” he said rubbing his cheek against hers. She closed her eyes and took comfort in his strength. There was something about him that emitted almost a calming beacon. He had this innate ability to transfer his sense of well-being. Since the purifying ceremony, he had seemed to get back his balance and pass it onto her. “She was so full of life and my father so strict. She couldn’t stand it.” Gabe drew back. “It started small—staying out late, coming home drunk—then it elevated. She stepped up the drugs to cocaine, then eventually heroin. Toward the end she stopped coming home at all, hung out with her druggie friends in crack houses. My father was so unbending. When she began to rebel, he would tell her she needed to follow his rules or find a new place to live.” She shrugged. Gabe ran his hand over her hair in a soothing gesture. He didn’t say anything. He must have sensed she needed to get it out. “He drove her away. He killed her. The police came to the door in the middle of the night to tell us she was found dead in a local crack house.” She couldn’t help the tears that ran down her face. He gently wiped them away with his thumb. “Kally, I’m so sorry. Drugs and alcohol are powerful and for someone that young and impressionable, especially if they need to escape—they can be deadly.” He tried to reason with her, sounding almost as if he had experience with what he was telling her. “I know.” She took over and wiped the remaining tears from her cheek. “I know what you’re saying is true, I just can’t…” she tried to keep from shedding more tears and lost, “I can’t forgive him,” she finished. “Oh, baby.” He hugged her close. “I’m sorry about dumping this on you.” He shook his head and pulled back. Lifting her chin with his finger, his expression was intense as he spoke. “Never apologize to me for sharing. I love you, Kally. You are my life. We are mated now. Do you understand?” He softened his words by kissing her cheek. “We are one, Ohkiimaan, your troubles are mine,” he said in a low voice. “Okay?” “Okay.” He helped her clean her face. “Ready now? Do you want to leave? I’ll do whatever you want,” he said as he draped his arm around her shoulder. “Hey, I’m scared too.”

She smiled and shook her head. He was teasing her now. She didn’t think he could be afraid of anything he was so strong. “No, no, let’s try this.” She pressed the doorbell. Kally’s mother answered the door, MaryAnn Voker. She was a petite blond, a vision of loveliness, her long blond hair piled orderly on top of her head, her expensive creamcolored suit flawless. Not a stitch out of place, she was neat and tidy. Kally was a carbon copy of her. She smiled, a formal, how-do-you-do butler smile. “Kallesandra, so pleased you could come.” She sounded sincere, yet Kally still felt as if she was a casual acquaintance coming over for dinner. There was something about her mother that had always made her feel that way. Her mother did everything she was supposed to do and Kally could never find fault with her parenting techniques. She was the epitome of a good mother, except when it came to warmth and compassion. There were no hugs, no kisses, no snuggling. Everything was done with discipline. She seemed to have lost her spark after her sister died. “Hello Mother.” Kally turned as Gabe helped her remove her jacket. Her mother automatically took her jacket and handed it to a female servant hovering nearby. Kally was surprised her mother answered the door herself. Gabe shrugged off his own jacket and handed it to the woman. “Mom, I want you to meet my fiancé, Gabe Blackhawk.” A slight frown appeared on her mother’s brow then she caught herself and gave a professional smile. “I’m so pleased to meet you Mr. Blackhawk, please, both of you…come in.” She led them to her father’s drawing room, a small foyer off the entry hall. Kally recalled guests required evaluation before they were allowed into the main house. She peered around the room. Nothing had changed. She felt like she was in the interrogation room at her local FBI office. There was a huge FBI shield on the wall, gold, shiny. The words Fidelity, Bravery, Integrity, the motto of the FBI. She shivered in reaction. Despite the fact it had been six months since she had been home, every time she saw that shield she thought about her life, the restrictions she placed on herself. And the loneliness she experienced in the self-imposed prison she had created to please her father. She glanced at Gabe and knew he had saved her from that world. “Your father is on his way home. He had a late meeting.” Kally nodded. Nothing ever changed, god forbid her father leave early from his job to greet her and his future son-in-law. “Would you like a drink, Mr. Blackhawk?” Gabe shook his head. “You can call me, Gabe.” He tucked his hair behind his ear as he studied her mom. He shook his head to the negative when she pointed to the Scotch decanter. He was so handsome; she couldn’t imagine what her mother thought. How could her mother resist him? “Sure Mom, I’ll take a glass of wine.” Kally tried to be agreeable and she hoped her mother would ease off if she played it cool. Her mother handed her a glass. “How long will you be staying?” Kally glanced at Gabe. He raised a single brow. They hadn’t discussed it yet. He folded her hand into his and squeezed her fingers. It was his silent sign of support and she loved him for it. She took a sip of from the glass and set it on the table next to her.

“Only one day Mom and I’m going to take Gabe into Washington D.C. tomorrow and show him around.” Gabe nodded and gave her that look, the one that told her he supported whatever she wanted to do. “That’s a fine idea. I’m sorry you’re not staying longer.” Her mother settled into the small sitting chair across from them. She crossed her legs at the ankles and assumed the proper Washington D.C. political wife posture, back straight, a small glass of wine in her hand. “What is it you do for a living, Mr. Blackhawk?” Kally felt Gabe’s hand squeeze hers and she sensed his anger. Her mother was treating him professionally, but still… she acted like Gabe was one of their servants. “I’m a detective with the Boise Police Department, Ma’am.” “Oh, that’s very interesting. The local police department?” She rested her wine on the corner table feigning interest in what he was saying. Kally knew better, in some ways her mother was almost a better interrogator than her father. But her subtle ways didn’t fool Kally. She realized straight away what she was doing. She was trying to belittle Gabe. She was challenging him to a very civilized verbal battle. The hair on the back of Kally’s neck rose in protest but she kept quiet. Gabe could fight his own battles. She didn’t want to embarrass him by butting in. “Right, the local police department.” His answer was abrupt. Her mom was getting to him. God, this was only beginning. “Oh, and I think my husband mentioned you lived on an Indian reservation in Idaho.” She casually picked up her wine glass again and resumed her stance. “Well…” Gabe ran a hand through his hair, pulling it from where he tucked it behind his ear. She recognized the gesture as one of frustration. “Yes, I grew up on a reservation that is surrounded by Montana.” “Of course you mean, in Montana,” her Mother said. “No, I don’t.” He didn’t elaborate beyond that. “Oh, well then.” She could see her mother’s irritation grow. “Mother, the Blackfoot don’t say they grew up in Montana, since they were essentially settled there before the white man claimed the land. They say Montana surrounds their reservation.” Gabe’s jaw was clenching as she spoke. “Well, isn’t that quaint.” She could feel Gabe’s stress coiling around her hands as he tightened his grip, almost to the point of pain. She had never seen him like this before. He was usually so calm, so collected, it was like her mother was sending him into a cold fury. They were interrupted from any further discussion when she heard her father enter, James Thames Voker the III, an important name, for an influential man. The same servant who had taken their coats greeted him and took his. He made his way leisurely into the room. Both she and Gabe rose from their seats to meet him. “Father.” Kally moved closer and gave him the standard peck on the cheek. She stepped back as Gabe leaned forward and raised his hand. Her father shook it and acknowledged him with a single nod, “Mr. Blackhawk.” Then he moved over and kissed her mother’s cheek. “Mary,” he said. “So glad you made it, Kallesandra.” Her father stepped to the bar and poured himslf a drink. “May I get you a drink, Detective Blackhawk?” Gabe ran a finger over his brow,

as if he was in pain. Then something came across his face that made her wonder what was going on inside his head. “Yeah, sure, why not,” he concluded. He seemed angry. She needed to get them out of this situation as quick as she could. “So the case is over. You are both happy with the results?” Her father asked as he handed Gabe his drink. Gabe dropped her hand to accept. Her father eased onto the settee, next to his wife. Gabe didn’t drink, he simply stared at the brown liquid, gently swirling the glass so he could watch its movement. There was a small bead of sweat forming on his brow. What the heck was going on with him? “Yes, the case is concluded. Now it’s a matter of time and the justice system. Who knows if we will ever be satisfied with the results?” He shrugged. Gabe hadn’t taken a sip of the liquid yet. He seemed obsessed by the drink in his hands, staring at it as if it was an alien from another planet. “Kally and Gabe are getting married,” Her mother abruptly informed her father. Kally rolled her eyes. She was hoping all this would come out differently. “What?” Her father stood. The hand her mother placed on his arm brought him back to his seat. “You can’t be serious, Kallesandra, you barely know each other.” He all but yelled the statement. Kally sighed. Maybe staying wasn’t such a good idea. She glanced at Gabe. He was looking at the drink as if it had grown another head. Then in a quick move, he downed the entire glass in one gulp. She was surprised. It wasn’t a lot of alcohol but even one small glass was going to make its mark on him—it was her father’s best Scotch. He held his glass out to her father, “We’re serious. How about a refill?” That’s all he said. There was an open hostility in his expression that gave her pause. Kally had known meeting her family wasn’t going to be easy, but this was already getting out of control. She was having flashbacks of her sister, sitting in this same room, her father telling her to clean up or find another place to live. Her father refilled Gabe’s glass and handed it to him. “Would you mind if I spoke to Mr. Blackhawk, alone, Kallesandra?” Her father’s quiet question startled her. “You can help your mother prepare dinner.” She glanced at Gabe for approval. He squeezed her knee and nodded. “I’d rather not.” She asserted. It was time to start standing up to her father. “Kally, it’s fine. Help your mother. Really.” She was about to protest but Gabe’s stare stopped her. He wanted to speak to her father. “Okay.” She hesitated, then reached over and kissed Gabe’s cheek. She could feel his sigh against her skin. She squeezed his fingers then followed her mother out of the room.

Chapter Sixteen He couldn’t believe he had just downed one drink and was well on his way through the second. He had been clean and sober for over ten years. What a time to fall off the wagon. He cursed himself. This wasn’t going well. He knew his internal triggers intimately, the one’s that made him reach for the bottle, but this one—this one blindsided him. Fear of acceptance, that’s what it was…that age-old weakness he wouldn’t be accepted for who he was in the white-man’s world. He hadn’t succumbed to those emotions since he was nineteen-years-old. But Kally’s mother sitting there, looking so proper and staring at him as if he was the scum of the earth was too much. Who would have thought the approval of Kally’s family would have him so stressed he broke his oath of sobriety? Growing up on the reservation, he barely had a chance. He was sucked into the world of alcohol before he could barely walk, as was his father and his father before him. And for a while, before his teenage years, he had won. But then puberty, the stress of being one of the few Blackfoot Indians in a mostly all white school. The pressures of growing up with discrimination at every turn, the beatings for speaking his own language, took their toll and he turned to the bottle for acceptance and to block the outside world. Alcoholism was in his family, bred into each generation. He realized, very early on, the battle he would need to wage against the war. The white-man brought the booze to his tribe generations ago and in exchange they took the Blackfoot’s tobacco. Gabe would gladly trade it all back to save his people from this deadly disease. Kally’s family was bringing his adolescent feelings of distrust back with a bang—so much so he couldn’t maintain his cool. He needed strength to go toe to toe with Kally’s father. The man who had judged him in the first sixty seconds of their meeting. Tonight wasn’t any better. He downed his second drink and faced James Thames Voker the III. “That’s two drinks in a matter of five minutes. I’m not impressed with you, Mr. Blackhawk.” The man pointed out. “Is there a point to this discussion?” Gabe was a mean drunk; there was no better way to internalize it. He was angry, now. Disgusted he was so weak as to give in to his recent cravings for alcohol. “I understand that many Native Americans have drinking problems. If you expect I’m going to let my daughter marry an alcoholic, you have another thing coming.” Gabe sucked in a slow breath and tried to control his anger. Unfortunately, the two drinks he shouldn’t have had went straight to his head. When an alcoholic drank after being off the booze for a long time, the first place they hit was rock bottom. “Why don’t you say what you need to say to me and we can end this little man-toman talk?” “Okay, Mr. Blackhawk, why don’t I?” He rose to his feet, poured another drink for himself then poured a third for Gabe. He handed it to him. Gabe didn’t want to accept it, he tried to tell his hand not to reach for it, but the numbness was already kicking in. He enjoyed the release of his inhibitions, that’s why drinking was addicting, no more worrying about acceptance. He grabbed the glass.

“Yeah, I think you’ll need that drink for what I’m about to tell you.” Voker sat on the edge of the Victorian furniture. “You are not good enough for my daughter, Mr. Blackhawk.” Gabe knew that was coming. He downed his third drink and closed his eyes while he waited for the effects and the subsequent lack of caring to kick in. Didn’t take long. He could feel the effect running through his systems. His lips were getting numb. “A small town detective, with an obvious…” he pointed to the empty glass in Gabe’s had, “drinking problem. Mixed blood, Mr. Blackhawk, that’s what you are, not good enough to lick her shoes.” Gabe tried to slow his pounding heart. He could feel his body heating up, his face reddening, and that’s about all he could feel. The familiar euphoria of the drink was working its way quickly through his body. God it felt so good, the taste, the feel of it sliding down his throat, so nice. The nightmare of his youth came back to haunt him in full force. He wasn’t good enough, that’s what they’d told him. The blood running through his veins was tainted with the past. Shit. “I have plans for her, Mr. Blackhawk, and they do not include a loser like you.” Gabe stood, tried not to sway, but didn’t quiet succeed. With his blood pumping like it was, the drink was working through his veins so fast he didn’t even have a chance to control his actions. “You’re a bastard, James Voker.” His words slurred, he tried to stop them but couldn’t. He shouldn’t have had those drinks. What the hell was he doing? He needed to get the hell out of there. And maybe, just maybe, deep down he knew this man was right. He wasn’t good enough for Kally. “Why don’t you have someone take me to the airport and I’ll get out of your hair.” James nodded and made a signal to the waiting servant. Before Gabe knew what was happening, he had his jacket and was being ushered toward the door. He could barely walk. He concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other. Man the stuff was hitting him hard and fast. He noticed Kally rushing into the room. “Father, what the hell is going on? Gabe where are you going?” Gabe winced. God, he didn’t want her to see him this way. He sucked in a breath and tried to focus on talking without slurring. “Kally, I’m leaving.” “What? What is going on?” She was confused and he was lost. “Kally, this man is a drunk. How the hell could you even think about bringing him into my house?” “What the hell…” she stopped talking when he put his finger to her lips. He missed by a half of an inch and ended up tapping her chin. “Kally.” He tried to get her attention. She was glaring at her father. “Kally!” He said louder. She made eye contact with him. There were tears gathering in her eyes. “He’s right,” he said his voice low in quiet agony. He tried not to react to her emotions, but he didn’t really have control over his anymore. He could feel himself tearing up. “Listen to him,” his words stumbled out, “let me go.” He ran a finger down her cheek in slow caress. He could see her bewilderment, her stunned acceptance that he was severely drunk. An alcoholic didn’t just down three Scotch on the rocks and not react, not after ten years. If he didn’t get out of there right now, he was afraid for what he would do.

He was a mean drunk, there were no ifs ands or buts about it. He knew how destructive he could be. By the time he reached nineteen, he had nearly ruined his young life with booze. He wasn’t going to do it again, especially in front of her. “Gabe.” She begged him with his eyes. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. He sucked in her smell and tried to put some sense into what he was doing to their relationship, but he couldn’t. He could barely think anymore. He stepped back and nodded to the servant. “Take me to the airport.” Despite Kally’s cry of protest, he stepped around her. She tried to grab his arm. He jerked it out of her hands “NO!” he shouted. Her expression flared to one of fear. God, he needed to get out of there. He followed the driver out the door and didn’t look back. About two miles down the road, he had the driver pull over so he could empty his stomach. He realized, despite his drunken state, if he didn’t get the alcohol out of his system as quick as he could, he’d be on the verge of alcohol poisoning and end up at the hospital or worse. Frequently happened to alcoholics who went off the wagon and drank too fast, like he had. Gabe wiped the back of his hand over his mouth as he leaned over the dirt ditch on the side of the road. He stood, wavering a bit. He remembered this feeling well, didn’t matter it had been ten years since he felt it. That calm acceptance of regret after doing something he would hate himself for in the morning. He shook his head. He needed another drink. He slid back into the car and nodded at the driver. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Seventeen “What went on here, father?” Kally stared at the door Gabe had exited in amazement. Had he walked out of it? She was stunned. She had never seen him like this. She never expected him to have a drinking problem, but now that she thought about it, pieces of a complicated puzzle began falling together. His pause when she talked about drinking the other day, blowing her off almost as if he was doing it purposely. His passionate speech about how drugs could affect kids when she talked about her sister. She realized many Native Americans were pre-disposed to alcoholism, she just never thought—. She sank down on the chair in the sitting room and picked up the empty glass, studying it. Could Gabe be an alcoholic? She had never seen him drink before today. Her heart sank. She remembered what it was like to live with someone who carried a drug addiction—her sister. The pain and suffering her family went through after her death. Can I go through this with Gabe? She asked herself. Am I strong enough to help him through this? Something had obviously set him off. The effect those few drinks had on him should have been minimal. Sure he would have been well on his way to drunkenness, but the slurring, stumbling man who’d left a few minutes ago, seemed as if he had been on an all night drinking binge. She heard that was what happened when an alcoholic took a drink, sometimes it hit them harder than it might a normal person. Had Gabe drank for the first time tonight? God, her heart dropped. She was nearly sick with the though her family might have driven him to do something like this. Who knew how long he had been sober. Had to have been a long time, he had been on the police force nearly ten years and there is no way he would make it there for that period of time with a drinking problem. “I don’t know, Kallesandra, he started drinking and wouldn’t stop.” She glared at her father. “What did you say to him?” She was furious. Her father had done it. He had pushed Gabe off the cliff. Her father held up his hands and shrugged. “We were having a nice conversation then suddenly he downed another drink, then another. How was I supposed to know he had a drinking problem? Are you sure this is the man for you, Kallesandra? He seems to have huge issues.” Kally threw the glass against the stone fireplace. It shattered into a million pieces. There, she felt a small moment of relief from her rage. “I know you, Father.” She pointed her finger at him. He tried to look innocent, but she realized what was underneath his façade. “Calm down,” He said as her mother came rushing into the room. “What’s going on?” She took in the situation and froze. “What’s going on, Mother, is Father just drove away the best thing that has ever happened to me,” she screamed as she began searching her pockets for the key to the rental car. Damn. Gabe had them in his pocket. Everything was in the car, her purse, her FBI credentials, and her money. She was stuck. “Mother—call a locksmith. I need to get into my car.”

“Okay, dear, I’ll do that.” She made eye contact with her father before she walked out of the room. “You’re not going after him, are you?” her father asked. “You know what Father? You can’t always have everything your way. You can’t with me and you couldn’t with Catherine.” Her father stilled, his face turned a bright shade of red. “Don’t you ever bring her name up in this house again. She was weak, like you. You are both weak.” Kally’s breath hitched at her father’s words then rage set in. “Well this weak daughter is done with you, and she is going after a man who deserves way better than this family.” “Good riddance,” he shouted at her. “Yeah,” Kally said as she ripped the door open to the coat closet and grabbed her jacket. “Good riddance.” It took her nearly an hour to get into her car, nearly two before she arrived at the airport. Gabe was gone and he wasn’t answering his cellular phone. She feared what she would find when she arrived in Idaho. She was scared, really deep down frightened at what had happened. If she was the cause of Gabe doing something like this, who could guess what was coming next. She lived in her fear the entire flight back. **** Gabe sat at the barstool and floated in an alcoholic haze. He hadn’t stopped since that first drink almost twenty-four hours ago. He was able to hop a red eye flight on standby coming back to Boise. For a while he drank in his house, alone then when he couldn’t stand himself anymore, he headed to the bar, where he had been ever since. “Hey man, we’re getting ready to close up.” The bartender was drying glasses. Gabe ran his hand over the smooth surface of the bar in front of him. He couldn’t feel it, couldn’t feel the touch of the wood against his hand. He couldn’t feel anything. He was pleasantly numb. “You’re going to need a cab, Dude. Got one waiting out front for you. Even gave him your address.” He handed Gabe his driver’s license. One good thing about this bar, they collected your license when they thought you were too drunk to drive. That’s why Gabe chose it in the first place. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he realized he would be taken care of. He tried to wrap his fingers around the plastic card. The bartender shook his head, grabbed Gabe’s wallet off the bar and stuffed his license back inside. He slid the wallet back into Gabe’s coat pocket and zipped the cloth shut. “Man, you got it bad. I’m going to help you tonight, because I’ve never seen such a pitiful drunk, but don’t come back here tomorrow night.” Gabe tried to wrap his head around what the man was telling him. “K.” was all he managed to get out. The man came around the bar and wrapped his arm around Gabe’s body and hauled him off the stool. Gabe swayed in his arms as the world tilted. “Gonna be okay, man? Need me to call anyone for you?” “Nope.” Gabe stumbled his way outside with the bartender holding him up. The man shoved him into the back of a cab and yelled Gabe’s address to the driver.

“Hey, Dude?” Gabe squinted at the bartender and tried to keep him in focus. “Get it together,” he said to Gabe. Gabe nodded and nearly tossed his empty stomach when the cab lurched into the street. He laid his head back against the seat. He had reached that point, where he really couldn’t think anymore, or feel either. He was too numb for anything. It was a dangerous place to be for a drunk who just fell off the wagon. He briefly thought about how lucky he had been tonight, with the bartender looking out for him, and the cabby taking him home. Anything could have happened. He could have been robbed, beaten. He would never had known. He was beyond caring. “Here you go, buddy.” The driver pulled up in front of his house. Everything was happening in slow motion. He tried to unzip his pocket to pay the cabby but he couldn’t make his finger’s work. “It’s okay, buddy, the bartender got you covered.” Gabe stopped fumbling with his pocket, but then he couldn’t remember what he had to do next. “This is your stop buddy; you have to get out now.” Right, he needed to get out of the cab. He tried to find the door handle, but he couldn’t do that either. Suddenly, the door flew open and the woman of his dreams was standing there. “Lady, you’re husband did it up real good tonight. I’d appreciate it if you could help him out of my cab.” “Sure. I’ve got him. Thanks for getting him home safe.” Gabe laid his head back and closed his eyes. Great, could things get any worse? He needed another drink. “Take me back to the bar.” He wasn’t sure how he managed to get the words out, but he did. “All the bars are closed buddy. I think you better let your wife take care of you now.” Gabe growled when Kally reached for him. “Not. My. Wife.” He articulated each word. “Well she’s all you got right now, buddy, so don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.” “Go! Away!” Gabe told her as she maneuvered him from the car. He tried to knock her hands away, but he was swinging at air. He ground his teeth and cried out in anger, “Get away!” “Lady, you need me to call the police?” He could hear Kally laughing at the Cabby’s question. “No thanks, I am the police.” With all her tugging and pulling, Gabe didn’t have any choice but to follow her out. She wrapped her arms around his body and forced him to take a couple steps toward the house. For a moment he sank into her warmth, and then he shook himself and tried to pull away. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw the cab drive away. He froze and they lurched. “Kally—leave me alone.” He bit the words out through clenched teeth. “I don’t think so.” Despite the fact he was drunk, he still had an instinct to fight. He jerked out of her hold and pushed her until she stumbled back a couple steps. He tried to clear his vision as he fought. He didn’t want her to see him like this. Better they just make a clean break.

“Get the hell away from me!” He slurred out the words, but he barely got them out when she flew at him, grabbed his arm, twisted and used his own body weight to take him to the ground. He landed on his stomach with an ‘oomph’ noise. She fell down beside him and jacked his arm up so high he felt the pain to his toes; that was telling, considering he was so drunk. “Fuck!” He yelled. He tried to move and she wrenched his arm up higher, her knee pressed into his back. His face was jammed against the green grass of his front lawn. “Want to do this the easy way, Gabe Blackhawk, or the hard way?” she asked. He struggled and she jammed her knee harder into his spine, forcing him to stop moving. He was down and not getting up anytime soon. And despite the fact he could probably only feel a small fraction of the pain right now, he was going to feel it in the morning. Then that familiar feeling came on so quick he didn’t have much time to warn her. “Going to be sick,” he said. “Good.” She grabbed his torso and pulled up his body so he was on his hands and knees. Then he threw up a good portion of the last hour’s drink. She held back his hair as he kept throwing up, retching until the only thing left was dry heaves. Finally, when he felt semi-human, he let his arms sag and he lay on the grass. He wasn’t even sure if he had deposited himself directly in his own vomit. He didn’t care, didn’t care about anything except one thing he wanted another drink to escape. Then everything went black.

Chapter Eighteen “MB, he passed out.” It had taken Kally nearly an hour to get Gabe from the front yard into his house. The minute she arrived at Gabe’s she called his sister. She was at a loss at what to do. “Did he throw up?” Kally sighed and soothed Gabe’s hair from his sweating brow as she laid a cold cloth on his forehead. He was a mess, he stank like a bum after a week-long drinking binge. She wrinkled her nose in distaste. She wasn’t used to seeing him this way, so vulnerable. He was always so calm, her rock, even-tempered and reliable, a born leader. The man she had managed to muscle to the couch was not that man. He was falling down drunk and Kally really had to do some serious soul searching to decide if she was up to fixing him. “He threw up so much, I wondered if he would cough up a lung.” “Good.” “MB, what’s going on with him?” He moaned when she turned over the washcloth. She ran her thumb down his brown cheek. God, she loved him. What was she thinking? Of course she would take care of him. “Kally, Gabe’s an alcoholic. He’s been sober for over ten years. It started in his youth. When he was nineteen, he almost died from alcohol poisoning. Since then, he’s been committed to staying sober. He was doing so well. I don’t understand what happened.” Kally shook her head in regret. This was all her fault. She should never have taken him to meet her father. “I know what happened. My father is what happened. What can I do for him now?” “Eventually he’s going to go through the DT’s from withdrawal. The shakes, Kally, this could last up to twenty-four hours. He really should be in a hospital but there’s no way he’ll let you take him there. Try to get him to drink something, water, coffee, the caffeine will help. Then hold his hand because it’s a rough ride. He’s going to want to drink, now, Kally. He’s gotten the taste again. Get rid of any alcohol you find in the house and don’t let him talk you into getting him anymore.” Kally sighed. She was so tired. She waited at the airport most of the night and into the morning to get a flight back. Then she had been up all day worrying about Gabe, where he was, if he would come home in one piece. “Kally are you up for this? I can come if you need me?” “What, no, stay. He would be really angry if you came.” “Kally, he’s a mean drunk, he might do things…” She recalled their tussle in the front yard. “Yeah, I know, been there, done that.” “He didn’t hurt you did he?” “Pshttt, no way, need more than a stumbling drunk to take me down.” “Good girl,” MB said. “Get him into the shower as soon as you can.” “Yep.” “He might have a hard time holding down any food for a while.”

Kally tucked the phone between her cheek and shoulder as she began removing Gabe’s clothing. “MB, how do you know all this?” There was a pause on the line. “Kally, I’m an alcoholic. So are my father and my grandfather.” Kally was amazed. Her jaw dropped. “I’m sorry.” She wasn’t sure what to say to MB’s statement. “It was easy to fall into the bottle here, Kally, so easy. I wish I could explain it to you, how the Blackfoot were treated, how we struggled as children to be accepted into the white man’s world. We didn’t have the resources on the reservations to run a school for all the children, so we were bussed off to an almost all white school. They used to beat us, Kally, the other kids, if they heard us speaking our own language. Drinking was an escape from the chaos, a way to accept our place in life without protest. Gabe was the oldest, he took the brunt of the punishment, he was so young…” she broke off and there was sadness in her voice that made Kally tear up. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like. She had never dealt with discrimination at that level before. Who knew what her father said to Gabe, but she was sure it wasn’t a discussion about how Gabe was going to be accepted into the fold of the family. Besides, he had been so stressed lately, all the SWAT call outs, the shootings, she figured the purification ceremony would have helped and maybe it did but her father must have pushed him over the edge of the cliff he had been standing on. A person who’s been sober for ten years didn’t fall off the wagon because of one discussion. It had to have been building over the last month, and she hadn’t helped one bit. She should have been more attentive to what he needed. But they were so involved in the case then after, they were so focused on their new love, new relationship. How could she have not seen the signs? How selfish she had been. “I’ll take care of him, MB, don’t worry,” she promised. “Thanks, call me if you need anything. He’ll be okay, he’s a strong man. He’ll need your support. Don’t let him push you away. He’s going to need you, no matter what he says.” “I won’t.” She tucked his hair behind his ear and caressed his jaw line. “I won’t,” she said with firm conviction. **** Gabe groaned. He cracked his eyes then decided against opening them when a marching band started hammering under his eyes balls. “Shit,” He groaned. He ran a hand over his face. Forty-eight hours of stubble told him a story he didn’t want to re-live. I need a drink. Slowly he slid open his eyes and took in his surroundings then rotated his pounding head from side to side. His stomach lurched. He was lying on his own couch, wearing sweat pants, nothing more. A blanket was bundled on his side, a small throw pillow under his head. Despite his own body odor another smell assaulted his senses, the subtle scent of roses. Shit. “How are you feeling?”

Gabe pressed his fingers to his temples at her question. His stomach gurgled, he threw his hand down to feel the rumble. Getting sick couldn’t be an option right now. He was still half drunk and that wasn’t a good sign. “What the fuck are you doing here? I was hoping I had chased you off by now.” Even his own voice caused him pain and he moaned, placing an arm over his eyes. “Here.” She knelt in front of him and forced his hand open. She shoved some pills into it and handed him a glass of water. Gabe leaned up, downed the pills and took a sip of water. He grimaced and wondered if the whole mess was going to come up again. “Try to keep those down. It will help.” “Fuck.” Gabe lay back on the coach and closed his eyes. “Go home, Kally. Go home to California.” “I don’t think so.” She spoke her answer quietly but with conviction. He forced his eyes to open so he could see her face. Her expression was as solid as granite. She wasn’t going anywhere. Gabe flopped his head back down, “Shit.” He was in trouble. This was the woman he loved and she wasn’t backing down. “Kally, take a look at what is before you. This is me. This is my life. I’m a fucking alcoholic. I can’t give you what you want. Cut me loose, now. Really, I won’t hold it against you.” Gabe was satisfied he said the words with fervor. His stomach roared in protest from the water he had taken in. He lurched up, swinging his legs to the floor. The room spun. Kally was immediately next to him wrapping her arms around his torso. “Gonna be sick, again?” she asked. It was if she was asking him to take a Sunday stroll. “Christ, again? How many times have I already been sick?” “Enough for me to consider taking you to the hospital if you didn’t wake up in…in let’s say…the next fifteen minutes.” “Great. I did it up right this time, didn’t I?” Gabe tried to make sense of the tilting world. “Gabe, you’ve been sober for ten years. You’ve been drunk nearly two days now. You did it up right, yes.” He closed his eyes and groaned. “You talked to my family?” He knew from her silence she did. “Yes, MB helped me. I had no idea what I was doing, here.” “Great.” He felt defeated. His shoulders slumped in fatigue. “Yeah, I’m going to head to the bathroom, but I think I can do it on my own.” She pulled him up with her. “I don’t think so.” He leaned against her and took baby steps. He felt like an invalid. She maneuvered him to the toilet where he promptly lost the aspirin. While he was praying to the porcelain god she was getting ready to run a shower. “Need a drink,” he mumbled as he leaned his head against the sink vanity and waited for the next wave. “Gabe.” Kally knelt down next to him and pushed his chin up so he could look directly at her. “You DO NOT need a drink. Say it,” she commanded. He shook his head. “Cut your losses, Kally, you don’t want to deal with this.” She pinched his chin and made him stare into her eyes. “Say it.” Her voice rose about three decibels. He winced. “Say it.” Then he saw the tears forming in her eyes.

“God, I love you,” she said as she collapsed on the floor next to him. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. “You don’t need a drink, please say it, please.” She whispered and she scooted close and rested her hand on his chest. He folded her into his arms. She felt so good, like a bright light in a dark room. He felt his own tears forming at their predicament. He was going to ruin everything. God, he wanted her in his life so bad. What was he doing? He felt a tear drop down his cheek. “Okay, baby, okay. It’s going to be okay.” He wasn’t sure who he was telling, himself or her. Her tears wet his chest and her sobbing tore at his heart. “Help me, Gabe, please help me.” She cried against his neck. He could feel his desire welling inside, despite his sorry state, he wanted her with a passion he realized would never be quelled in the bottom of a bottle. “Kally, this is going to get rough.” He could count off on his fingers what would happen next if he didn’t have another drink. He hadn’t been through alcohol withdrawal in over ten years, but he had every step memorized, the shakes, the cravings, the need, the anger… he didn’t want her to go through it with him. “We’ll go through this together,” She stated. She wasn’t backing down. He tightened his arms and dared to pray that after this was over, she would still have him. “I don’t want you here. I don’t want you to see this,” he said against her hair as he sucked in her fresh scent, his tears rolled down his chin and dropped on her silky blond mass. She was like a fresh rose in a field of weeds. He could never measure up to her standards or her family’s. He didn’t want to drag her down with him. “Please leave.” He tried to push her away from him. He opened his arms and let them drop. She leaned back and looked at him. “I. Am. Not. Leaving.” She punctuated each word. She pushed to her feet and turned on the shower. Then she leaned over and tugged him to his feet. “You’re taking a shower. You smell.” Before he could protest, she whipped off his sweats and all but threw him into the cascading water. He remembered another day where this shower had been a sensual place to make love to her—now it was a wet nightmare. The water pelted his aching body. He leaned his hands against the tile and tried to keep standing. The pounding in his head was getting stronger and stronger and he was growing weaker. He was afraid he was going to pass out. Suddenly, a wet body slipped against his, an arm wrapped around his waist. His stomach clenched in protest. Kally began to wash him with military precision, which was good because he was becoming too woozy. He wondered if he was going to collapse at her feet. He sighed when she ran her hands through his hair, washing the shampoo out. She nudged him under the water stream. He came up sputtering. “Thanks for that,” he tried to scold her. Didn’t work, she kept running her soapy hands over his body. If he weren’t coming off a forty-eight hour drinking binge he would be taking advantage of the situation. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case, and he was lucky to be standing. She rinsed him clean then switched off the water. He could feel the wetness of her cheek resting against his back. “I love you, Gabe.” He dropped his head back and groaned. The movement sent him over. “Shit.” He leaned forward and emptied any remaining fluid in his stomach. Kally stroked his back and held his hair from his face.

“Let’s get you to bed.” She guided him from the shower, quickly toweling him off. He tried to yank the towel from her hand and do it himself, but the action pushed him off balance and he would have taken a woozy fall if she hadn’t grabbed hold of him. “Knock it off, Gabe, or you’ll end up kissing the floor again.” “Christ.” He gave up and released the towel. Could he feel like any more of an idiot right now? She was better off without him. But she didn’t seem to think so. She wrapped her arm around him and led him to the bedroom. Slowly she lowered him onto the bed. “Not sure I can lie down.” The room was spinning and so was his stomach. She picked up a plastic bowl from the nightstand and held it up to his face. “Throw up here if you can’t make it to the bathroom.” She set the container back down. Gabe nodded and closed his eyes. His head felt as if someone was splitting it in two, he was a mess. And the ocean ride wasn’t helping. “Might take you up on that.” It was the only acknowledgement he was going to give on her help. For the most part, he was hoping his attitude would push her away. A cold compress fell onto his brow. He sighed in relief, it felt so good, he was hot and cold at the same time. “Try to get a little more sleep.” She kissed the corner of his mouth then curled up next to him on the bed. Grabbing the blanket from their feet, she eased it over them. Closing his eyes, Gabe tried to get past his nausea and sleep.

Chapter Nineteen Kally paused in the doorframe and looked in on Gabe. He was still sleeping, a good sign. He was going into fifteen hours. MB said the sleep would help him get past the withdrawals. Because he had been sober nearly ten years, his come down would consist of some of the lesser symptoms; agitation, sweating, nausea, vomiting, wooziness, and he was going to have one huge, blinding headache. These were only the physical symptoms. The psychological cravings were going to be a much harder battle. He would have to fight, with every breath that he had. He had a taste now, a taste for a drug that solved all his doubts. So easy to give himself up to those cravings and fall back into his disease. She set the soup broth and water on the nightstand. She had to get something down him; the vomiting put him in danger of dehydrating. Dehydration could be the precursor to more serious physical problems, some severe enough to land him in the hospital. He was young, and if she could get him on track, he could start the road to recovery by the end of the day. She sat on the bed next to his sleeping body. God, he was gorgeous. Since they met, he was her rock. She would have never thought he could be afflicted with a disease like alcoholism. MB told her over three quarters of the reservation was struck by it. She couldn’t believe it. He had such strength. She admired him for it. She never expected to see him like this. He stirred, moaned and dropped his arm over his eyes. “Hey,” she said as she caressed his hair. “Shit. Kally, please shut those blinds.” She dropped her hand and did it, darkening the room. Sitting down, she waited as he struggled to sit up. Sweat was beginning to bead on his brow. He was agitated, a symptom she expected. She handed him two aspirins and a glass of water. “Let’s try this again.” He grimaced but managed to get them in his mouth. He followed them up by taking a couple sips of water. She waited to see if those would stay down before she made any mention of food. “How long?” he asked as he rubbed the sweat off his forehead. “It’s been close to twenty-hours since I stuck your face into the front lawn.” “What?” He squinted at her. “You don’t remember?” “Should I?” He rubbed his chest as if he was trying to brush away the incident. “I guess it doesn’t matter.” “Kally.” He ran his finger along her jaw. “Please tell me I didn’t hurt you?” “No, Gabe, no. You would never hurt me.” She clasped his hand in hers and entwined their fingers. With their fingers merged, he sighed and dropped his head back. He felt wonderful; it was nice to touch him. She didn’t think there would ever be a time when she didn’t desire him. “Thank God.” He dropped her hand and swung his feet around the bed. He very slowly stood, wavering as he went. She hadn’t felt like wrestling him into his clothes last

night, so she left him naked. The curve of his back tapered down to his hard ass. He was naked, fully erect and beautiful. His brown skin was smooth in the dark dimness of the room, touchable, and she felt a strong urge to crawl on top of him and take him. She suppressed her need. “Let’s see if I can get myself to the bathroom this time.” He walked very slowly to the half bathroom. She heard water running. A few minutes later he returned and sank back into the mattress. “How’re you doing?” Kally watched him for any sign of withdrawal; his hand was shaking as he wiped the water drops from his face. He closed his eyes and laid back. “Not so good.” “What can I do to help?” she asked. He opened his eyes and glared at her. “Go home.” He stated. “Not an option.” “Kally, I want you to take a good hard look at what you’re seeing here. This isn’t going to get better. I’m an alcoholic. I can feel the desire for another drink, right now.” He leaned forward and tried to intimidate her, she laid her hands against his shoulders while he pushed into her face. “I’m a mean drunk, Kally. Mean enough to hurt you. Do you understand what I’m telling you? You need to go. I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t believe I did this, but I did. Now I need to fight it. Alone.” He was angry, but underneath she could see his fear and uncertainty lurking. Ten years he had been sober. Ten years and the insecurity of her family drove him to where he was now. She was so ashamed, tears slid down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Gabe.” She stroked his chest, gently rubbing her hands over his pecs. He tensed and sucked in a breath. She wanted to soothe him, but was afraid he would reject her. “Oh man.” He pushed her hair behind her ear. “It’s not your fault, Ohkiimaan. Stop blaming yourself. This was my fault; I’m in control of my actions.” “But if my father hadn’t…” “Stop.” He pressed his fingers against her lips. “This is not your fault, it’s not your father’s. This disease is mine to manage. And I didn’t do it very well. I know what sets me off, and I let it get the best of me. I did this, Kally. Me, not you, not your family.” “I want to help you, Gabe. Please don’t push me away.” She tried not to sob the words, but she was so afraid she was going to lose him and she didn’t know what she would do if she did. He pulled her against his chest and she slipped her arms around him. Felt so good to be close to him, so right. “We can do this, together. This was one setback. We can handle it together.” “I wish it was that easy, babe. I made a huge mistake and forced myself into the worst situation I could have been. I should have known better. Shit, I know the signs, the stress lately, the cravings for a drink, the need for your family’s approval. I should have realized and taken precautions. I didn’t, now I’m helpless. The cravings are there and they are strong. Stronger than they have ever been. I don’t want to saddle you with this, no way. What if I can’t stop next time? What if I hurt you?”

Kally ran her lips over the softness of his neck. He was hard, yet in some places, so soft. She licked the curve of his neck where his shoulder sloped to his chest. He groaned and buried his hand in her hair. “You need something to do to keep your mind off drinking.” She whispered as she leaned forward and sucked on his neck. “Ahhh.” She could feel his hardness respond to her caress, pressing against her stomach. “I know what we can do to take your mind off any thoughts of drinking.” Her mouth soothed along his neck to his jaw where she nibbled her way to his lips. She took his mouth hard and fast, forcing his mouth open she mated her tongue against his. He smelled wonderful, that male scent of man mixed with the masculine smell of the earth. He responded to her, his hand fisting in her hair, his other arm anchoring and pressing her body against his. She pushed him back, following him down to the bed and sprawled on top of him. Releasing his lips, she trailed hers down his body, tasting, touching, enjoying him and the smoothness of his skin. She pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it to the bed as she continued to worship his body. “Babe, this isn’t going to solve anything.” He moaned when she sucked one of his brown nipples into her mouth. “Shhhh,” she said against his skin. “When you think you want a drink, I want you to picture this, us together. I want you to use me as your anchor. Let’s try it, see what happens.” She licked her way down his chest to his stomach. He tensed against her hands as she trailed her fingers to follow her tongue. His erection was hard and veined against his stomach, standing straight and straining toward her mouth. She slowly ran her tongue down him, then back up. “God, Kally.” “Do you think you can try?” She asked as she worked around his head them took him full into her mouth. She sucked, went down and up. God she loved this, loved hearing his moan, his pleasure. She raised her head and watched him, poised to take him into her mouth again. “I can’t hear you?” His eyes were half-mast with a sexy slumber look and she smiled. She ran her tongue over him and watched him stare at her. His eyes flared, his arousal clear as he moved himself against her tongue, following her. “Huh?” she said as she took him in again for a deep suck. “Yesss.” He hissed as she pulled him in and out again. She raised her body and slipped off her sweat pants, ridding herself of the remaining clothes. She placed her hands on him and went to work on his hardness, sucking, licking her hands pumping while working together with her mouth. He arched into her. “Kally, stop.” At his command she lifted her head. He leaned forward and tugged her up his body. Gently he rolled her onto her back and settled between her legs. “Wrap your legs around me.” He ordered as he ran his hands down her sides and back up to her breasts. Softly kneading her, arousing her, he slid into her, slowly, gently; she sucked in air and then gave up breathing. She was only feeling. He filled her so completely, edging into her inch by inch until she was full. He buried his face into her neck. She caressed his hair and enjoyed the

texture of dark silk. Then she felt it, wetness dripping down her neck. Using her hands she raised Gabe’s face and saw he was crying; his tears mixed with her grief. “I love you, Kally. God how I love you.” His voice was low as he sighed out her name. Her heart broke at his sadness. “I love you, Gabe, forever through sickness and health, till death do us part,” She pledged. “Thank you,” he whispered against her mouth then he took charge and began moving inside of her, his lips nibbling on hers. Such pleasure. “Gabe,” She cried out as she climbed close to her release. He married their palms as they moved together in unison. Their bodies gleamed with sweat; the breath she was holding puffed out and fanned his neck. She leaned forward and licked him there, tasting salt and him, nothing better as she clutched at his hands. He stayed with her, until she was so close, a whisper away. “Come with me, Ohkiimaan.” His voice was rough with need. “Yes.” She arched against him, her body clenching, her heat milking him. He went with her and she took every drop of come he had to offer. His body strained against hers, his back arching him close, the veins in his neck pumping in unison to his pounding heart as he emptied himself. She released his hand and ran her fingers up his chest, slid them into his hair. Cupping the back of his neck, she brought his lips to hers. She took them like she wanted to take him, completely. Lifting her head, she panted against his cheek. “My anchor, huh?” For the first time in two days he smiled. She adored that cute tilt of his mouth. He was such a serious man, his smile was a gift, white against the dark of his skin. He had something on his mind. “Yeah, can you handle that?” He hardened inside of her. She tilted up a single eyebrow. “I don’t know, you tell me.” With a tilt of his hips he started to move again. She bowed into him and ground her teeth in need. “I’ll tell you when we’re finished.” She released the sentence on the tail of a whimper. Her heart began speeding up, tapping against her chest. She couldn’t believe he could arouse her so soon, but he could. She wanted to dance like this with him all night. She ran her hands down his body and cupped his ass as he plunged into her. “You do that, you tell me when we’re finished… tomorrow.” Sweat dripped down his cheek and onto her collarbone. He was still pale. She was concerned. She gave a small slap on his rear to get his attention. He stopped, and looked at her like she had gone crazy. “Gabe, you sure you’re alright?” “Oh yeah, I’m just fine, Babe. This is the best I’ve been in two days.” He grinned as he slid in. Then he flipped around and laid her on top of him. She laughed. “That was quite a move.” He grinned and squeezed her ass. “Despite the fact I’m a drunk who’s fallen off the wagon, I still have the moves.” She smiled and leaned forward to slowly kiss him. “We’re going to make it through this. Stick with me. I’ll get you back onto the wagon and onto the trail.” He laughed then became serious.

“I’m sorry I never told you. It’s hard and I never thought… it had been ten years I figured I had beat it…” “Hey.” She rotated her hips and watched his expression heat up, his eyes flared. “Stop it.” She growled as she raised herself off him, then back down. “When you love someone, you don’t need to say you’re sorry. We’ve got a method now. We’ll beat this.” “I don’t deserve you.” She giggled when she rotated her hips and he gasped. “Gabe, knock it off or I’ll push your face into the floor again.” The rumble in his chest told her she succeeded in distracting him. “Wish I was coherent enough to remember that, sounds kind of kinky.” She leaned over and teased his nipples. “We can do it again later, if you like?” “Ahhh huh.” That was his only response, as she got serious about riding him. She kissed his jaw, his cheek then latched onto his lips. He groaned into her mouth. Didn’t take long for both of them to fall, a rotation of her hips, he thrust off the bed and they flew. Kally draped herself over his body and let her heart slow. He ran his hands up and down her back. She enjoyed his touch, the feel of her body touching his. “Think you can take a shower?” she asked as she rose on her elbows and watched him. He looked immensely satisfied. “In a bit.” He didn’t look the least bit interested in getting up. “You going to hold down that aspirin?” she asked as she soothed his hair from his face. “Yeah, think so.” “Want to sleep for a bit? What?” She wasn’t sure what he needed, he had a strange expression on his face. “I’d like to call Jo and Troy and get married, as soon as it can be arranged.” Relief. That was what she felt to the extreme. “Sounds good to me.” “Your parents?” “Don’t care,” she answered. She was firm in her answer. “You sure?” “I’m always sure about what I do,” she responded with certainty. “Good.” He leaned and tumbled her to his side, spooning his front to her back. “Let’s take a nap. Oh and when I first wake up,” he caressed her hip then draped his arm over, “my urge to drink is really strong.” She chuckled. He was teasing her. “Well, I’m sure I can handle you.” She closed her eyes and let sleep claim her.

Chapter Twenty “My name is Gabe Blackhawk and I’m an alcoholic.” The words ‘hello Gabe’ echoed around the room. It had been close to five years since he had been to an AA meeting. He was doing so well; his job was so busy, he started tapering off attendance and eventually stopped going at all. Now, he realized he shouldn’t have. “It’s been two days since my last drink.” He glanced around the room of strangers and felt a kinship to them. They realized by his statement what happened and he felt their sympathy. He remembered well what it was like to sit where they were and grieve for the returning alcoholic after they had fallen. “I…” he stopped. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t admit in front of thirty strangers what a fool he had been. He felt that familiar urging coming upon him. That need to have a drink. He ran a hand through his hair and dropped his eyes so he wouldn’t have to make eye contact with any of them. Then he heard something, a shuffling from the back of the room, and Kally was there. She walked in the room and up the isle to the podium. She was so beautiful, not a hair out of place. When they first met, he thought she was disorganized. How wrong he had been. She was his strength. He took a leave from his job to pull himself together. He never told anyone about his disease, there was no way he was going to admit to being an alcoholic. He could lose his job. His job kept him sane, busy, and focused. He didn’t even have time to think about drinking. He had told her where he was going, to an AA meeting. He said he wanted to go alone. Now, he was thankful she appeared. She stepped directly to the podium, next to him, and took his hand into hers. Gabe smiled. She smiled back and tilted her head toward the group. He raised his head and watched the faces of his group. “I was sober nearly ten years. Two days ago I let my craving and stress get to me and drank, severely, for close to forty-eight hours. I haven’t been to a meeting in nearly five years. This woman,” he raised Kally’s hand and hugged her against his body, “brought me back. So I haven’t had a drink in two days.” He turned his head and looked at her. She nodded at him and wrapped her arm in him. The group began to applaud and Gabe sighed in relief. He stepped back from the podium. The people began to descend upon him, shaking his hand, some hugging him. He didn’t even know these people but he felt their support. They had all been where he was now, standing in front of that podium and admitting their failures and eventual triumphs. He realized now how important it was he always remember he was an alcoholic and he needed to keep his support network around him. A portly gentleman with thinning grey hair approached him. “Hi Gabe, I’m Leon Brazier. We spoke on the phone. Thanks for coming tonight, and thanks for joining us.” “Hello, Leon, yeah I’m glad I came.” He shook his hand. Leon was to be his contact in case he needed a sponsor; in the event he felt like drinking, he could call Leon.

“Here’s my card. Please call me if you need anything, anytime. I’m available twentyfour hours a day. I’m an alcoholic and have been sober near twenty years. I understand what you’re going through.” Gabe nodded and accepted his card. “Thanks, I appreciate it.” “And you, young lady, you call me anytime.” He handed Kally his card. “Thanks,” she said. Gabe hugged her close as they walked out. “Feel like getting some dinner?” he asked. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Epilogue The Boise airport wasn’t busy. Gabe and Kally waited anxiously in the coffee shop at the end of the passenger exit. Troy and Jo’s flight had landed. They were on their way. Kally stood and smiled when she saw them. Holding hands, a tall, handsome, dark-haired Italian man and a shoulder length, auburn hair women approached. They were a striking couple in both looks and energy. Kally immediately folded Jo into her arms. “Hey, girlfriend.” “Hey yourself,” Kally answered. “Thanks for coming, guys.” Troy shook hands with Gabe. They did the manly, paton-the-back, hug. “Wouldn’t miss this wedding for the world, not after working so hard to set this all up,” Jo said. Gabe grinned like the cat that had stolen the cream. “Did I thank you for that yet?” He set his arm around Kally’s shoulders. “You did, again and again. I think my debt is now paid.” Gabe laughed. Kally watched him. He was at ease now, the case was over, Gabe hadn’t had a drink since that fateful night, and they’d both taken time off. He needed a break and was getting it and she was there to offer support as he found his balance again. She loved him, more than life itself, and hugged him closer. After today’s news, he was glowing. She knew that for them the worst was over. He was going to be a father. He acknowledged Jo’s declaration with a nod, “Yes, your debt is definitely paid, times two.” They all moved toward the short-term parking, taking the short walk to Gabe’s vehicle. The airport was bustling, people rushing around, luggage trailing behind them. It felt different to be back in the hustle and bustle of city life after spending the last month at Gabe’s reservation healing and loving. “Times two?” Jo asked Troy threw their bag into trunk of Gabe’s car. Gabe wrapped his arm around Kally’s waist. She could tell he couldn’t wait to tell them. He was visually bursting with pride. “Kally’s expecting.” “Ohhh my Godddd.” Jo screamed and hugged Kally. “How did that happen? Wait…” she held up a single hand in a stop motion, “don’t tell me.” Gabe ran a hand around the back of his neck and laughed, “Well, let’s just say we don’t win the award for being responsible adults.” Kally blushed in embarrassment, but really, deep down she didn’t care one bit. She was dreaming of having Gabe’s child, ready to start motherhood with the man of her dreams. Troy slapped Gabe on the back and laughed out loud while gently caressing Jo’s belly. “Man, I think we’re in competition for that award.”

“Troyyyy.” Jo slapped him on the shoulder. He ducked and smiled. He was really a striking man. Him and Gabe together made Kally’s heart twitter. “Let’s go have one hell of a wedding,” Jo said while she smiled and dropped her arm around Kally’s shoulders, “and you… I want details.” Kally laughed, hugging Jo to her. “Thank you Jo,” she said. Jo knew exactly what she was talking about. “My pleasure, girlfriend.” The End.

Stolen Courage Rae Monet

Dedication This book is dedicated to my father, a huge NASCAR fan. He passed away from lung cancer and was never able to read this. Dad, I know you’re watching from heaven. I’m glad we had the last year together. And to my personal editor, Edie, who corrects all my mistakes and makes my stories so much better. Thanks Edie, couldn’t live without you! Rena, Mary Ann, Karin, Shelton, Lady Blade, Christine, and Raven with LSB, thanks. And of course, the most important, to my husband—who tolerates me after 20 years! Courage is being brave enough to conquer your fear of the unknown.

Prologue Troy Vinstonie, this is not over! You’re going to die!

Chapter One “Thirteen Delta. Come in.” Special Agent Jo Clarin glared at the cellular phone attached to her hip. Jack. The boss. Now what? Her team was smack dab in the middle of nabbing a fugitive they’d been hunting for over six months. She sat in her car, on the dangerous side of Oakland, attempting to supervise this well-planned operation. He is such a pain. Jo fingered the earpiece to operate the speaker. “Go.” The police radio attached to her other hip squawked at the same time. “Jo. Subject heading to your position.” “Roger.” “Jo, I need you back in the office ASAP.” She switched back to her cellular. “Jack, I’m in the middle of something here.” Fingering her police radio, she said, “Stand by, boys. I want no moves until I give the signal. Over.” She made a leisurely exit from her car. It was noon, Oakland, on a crowded SeventyEighth Street at International Boulevard. No one would notice a woman in an oversized sweatshirt, talking on a cell phone. It was similar to New York where people minded their own business, unless you forced your way into it. Unfortunately, it was also a location where if you didn’t watch your back, there’s a chance of a stray bullet from a drive-by catching you. One hundred and one murders alone last year attested to this fact. Death was a norm in this town. She kept a hand on her Glock 22, in case. Multitasking. Jo sighed. The bane of my existence. “Jo, this is non-negotiable. I want you 10-20 here in ten.” Ten codes, Jo hated them, she could never remember what the hell they meant. Jack wanted her in his office. She spotted her fugitive strutting down the street. “Roger that, see you in your office in ten,” she said. At the same time, she received acknowledgements from her fugitive squad. “Okay, boys. Move in slowly, but hold until I make contact. Keep the chatter to a minimum.” She barely acknowledged their responses. The adrenaline kicked in, her heartbeat sped and tunnel vision focused her line of sight. She saw her fugitive and only her fugitive. Eighteen years old, a double murderer, gang member, and generally all around bad kid. And he was going down. She eased away from her car and tugged up her sweatshirt to free her cuffs. Her biggest advantage; the element of surprise. She knew, given the chance, he would run. She could see it in the way he moved. He had that edgy, nervous gait, his eyes constantly scanning. His gaze passed right over her. To a felon like this, a man would be a threat— not a woman. “Be ready, boys. He’s a runner. Get the perimeter sealed up.”

“Roger that, Jo. We’re ready. Go for the takedown.” She nodded. Oh, I’m going for the takedown, all right. Six months of work, two dead bodies. This kid is a problem to society. She eased away from her car. “I’m moving in. Be ready. Look alive, boys.” She loved this part of the job. The situation lent itself to just enough unpredictability to make it fun, and enough danger to make her heart dance. She reached out her hand as she strolled closer to the mark. The key to catching fugitives was easy, so terribly simple. Surprise them when they were least expecting it. Jo pasted a smile on her face. “Go, boys,” she commanded at the same time she approached the kid. “Jamal Wente?” She immediately encased his hand in hers as if they were greeting each other. His shocked expression was priceless. A female could do almost anything. No one expected a woman to single-handedly catch a fugitive. “Yeah.” Her smile became genuine. When a fugitive was surprised, he usually didn’t immediately lie. Positively identifying Jamal was critical to arresting him. “Great.” Jo jacked his arm behind his back, jamming his wrist into a lock, a hold which ensures severe pain if he struggled. That was, of course, if he wasn’t hyped up on drugs. He yelped. A good sign. He could still feel pain. She slapped on the first cuff, the snick of cinching metal making her smile. “You’re under arrest, Mr. Wente.” He sent his other elbow flying, striking her in the face. She growled. “Now you’re really pissing me off.” Jo shoved the kid against a nearby car, pinning the flailing arm, wrenching his wrist up higher. Adding pressure to the hold, she secured the second cuff and tightened it. He yelped again. “And guess what, kid. I have many friends.” Ten Oakland police officers and four FBI agents converged upon Jamal. They immediately contained him and hauled him off, shoving him into the black and white. Gang violence made it necessary to clear out swiftly. Not a place for a picnic lunch. Brushing her hands together, she faced her partner, Jim Ellis. Tall and lanky, Jim ran marathons in his spare time, with triathlons on the side. His bald head glowed, a beacon in the California sun, and a sprig of blond hair peaked out from his chin. An overachiever in the extreme—that was her Jim, her best friend. “Didn’t even need to pull your gun, dude. Nice work.” ‘Dude’ was Jim’s pet name for her. He pounded her back. The adrenaline began to wane. Jo felt the tightness of swelling begin around her nose and eye. Still, she couldn’t help a satisfied smile. Arresting the kid was worth it. “Gonna have a shiner from that one.” Jim pointed to her face. “Yeah. Thanks.” Jo rubbed a hand under her nose to ensure it wasn’t bleeding. It felt as if it would.

“Hate to use this cliché, but it was like taking candy from a baby, Jim.” Jo breathed a sigh of relief that she didn’t have to chase the kid all over the neighborhood, something she’d done on many occasions. With six months worth of work, she had been up since sunrise briefing and planning—and they’d caught him in thirty seconds. What a break they got when Oakland police had hauled in the kid’s best friend last week. He cried like a baby when he realized he faced jail time. She smiled. Yeah, they cut him a deal, and he gave up Jamal’s location faster than he’d steal her purse if she chanced turning her head. “I’ve got to head to the office to see Jack.” She didn’t need to explain, Jim understood. One word—‘Jack’—said it all. Strained. “Can you process Wente for me?” she asked. Jim nodded. “You got it. Catch ya later, dude.” “Later.” Jo hopped into her car. She briefly wondered what was up with her boss. For the most part they had a silent understanding. Jack left her alone, and she kept providing him arrests. It wasn’t like him to interrupt her on the job. Jo sucked in a breath and briefly wondered why her eye hurt; then she remembered. Oh, yeah, someone socked me in it. She hadn’t even written up the last injury. She hated paperwork. It slowed her down.

Chapter Two In Supervisory Special Agent Jack Farin’s office, Troy Vinstonie leaned his head back against the couch. The pain pills were wearing off. His arm hurt like hell from therapy, and he was steaming at his media agent who dropped him off at the Oakland Federal Bureau of Investigation Office as if he was unwanted baggage. And every time he felt the pain he remembered the kidnappers. He relived the agony, and he felt a hate stronger than he had ever hated in his life. The nightmare… “Wake up, hero.” Troy jerked awake at the sound of his kidnapper’s voice. He had tried not to sleep. He knew he needed an escape plan. Something, anything, as long as his brain was driving him toward something other than the pain “You think you’re hot shit, don’t you?” Troy didn’t answer. The woman again. Really nasty but better than the man. The sound of her voice made his heart pound. He hated fear, hated the feeling, and he couldn’t help it. Lightheaded, the loss of blood was already beginning to affect him. His arms were numb. Couldn’t be good, not being able to feel your arms. He felt her jerking on the chains that anchored him to the ceiling. It hurt like hell. He bit his lip to keep from crying out. “Strung up like a side of beef, aren’t you, sweet-cheeks?” At the touch of her hand on his cheek, he turned his head to the side. He hated it when she touched him. “Oh, what’s the matter, honey?” Her hand fell to his crotch. He tried to wrench away. The chains were too tight. He couldn’t move. Troy gritted his teeth and tolerated her groping. She laughed and began to undo his jeans. He dropped his head back and prayed he could endure her hands on him without puking. The combination of her touching him and the lack of food and water gave him the dry heaves. He had to keep down what he could to survive. Her cackled laugh sounded like a wickedwitch noise. Troy’s stomach clenched. “What you doing, bitch? Stick his dick back in his pants.” Troy heard a slap and a whimper. He didn’t care if the man beat the shit out of the woman. After a couple more slapping noises, Troy felt his pants close. “You’re god damn lucky, NASCAR boy. I should chop your cock right off.” Troy cringed. God, he wanted to fight. He strained one arm against the metal. At first he had fought, when they captured him. That had gotten him a broken arm. Now, he was trying to survive. The instinct to live kicked in long ago, after they started slicing him to see him bleed. That was fun for them. “Looking for some more pain, pretty boy.” Troy grunted when something struck his rib. If he could, he would have doubled over. He felt something hard against his temple. “That’s the barrel of my gun against your temple, pretty boy. Make one move and I’ll end it for you, right now.”

Troy froze and slowly exhaled. He almost wanted to say go ahead, wanted to scream it. They laughed and the pressure left his temple. “Come on bitch, let’s go check out that old building down the road, see if we can get ourselves some cash. Play.” “Okay, sure, baby.” Troy could hear them walking away… Straightening, he pulled himself back to the living. Rotating his shoulder, he tried to shake off the memories. Christ, is this necessary? One letter. That was it. One damn letter and everyone flew into a panic. Troy tried to control his breathing as if he was in the cockpit of his stockcar. I’m one of the top NASCAR drivers on the circuit, Troy told himself. He could ride side by side with the best. He could stay calm and collected for over three hours, in heat exceeding the century mark, skillfully maneuvering his car through billows of white smoke, not knowing what was on the other side of the colorless tunnel. He could drive with the ease other people took for a Sunday morning stroll. I can do this. Troy’s heart tripped faster. He tried to stomp down on the fear threatening to explode inside him since the letter came. He couldn’t deny the terror those words had invoked in him, a reminder of the torture his kidnappers had put him through. He started to sweat, and those terrifying haunting emotions he had become intimately familiar with began their insidious invasion. Come on… Come on… Come on… Troy chanted to himself… Don’t do this… Not here. These panic attacks are pissing me off. In his mind, he was preparing for the battle between fight and flight. “Hey.” A woman’s voice penetrated his thoughts. Troy eyes snapped open. “Easy there,” she said, her voice gentle. He jerked, embarrassed he had shown his fear in such a way. Quickly he masked his emotions by assuming a bored expression. Straightening without thinking, he shifted his broken foot. The pain took him off guard. He groaned. He had worked hard this morning in physical therapy and he was feeling the effects. “Hey. Don’t move on my account. Relax. I’m only here to see Jack.” Troy tried to find a comfortable position for his throbbing arm. Pain was a familiar sensation to him. He made his living racing cars. It was the way he had received this last injury that made him so angry. Besides, the pain meds were wearing off, and he really shouldn’t be up and around. His agent tried to convince him this office, in this town, had the best agents available to help him. Troy glanced at the woman as she pulled a chair next to the couch. She had a nice, soothing voice, he thought. All smooth, silky, and deep. A voice that immediately calmed him. Her dark brown shoulder length hair and contrasting ice blue eyes were as unique as her voice. She was sexy all over; her tall, smooth curvy body, encased in tight-fitting jeans and black combat boots. She had a foreign look about her, exotic.

She wore what appeared to be a tactical vest. A gun strapped to her waist, along with a pair of cuffs, two radios, another little gun tucked in the small of her back completed her attire. Sitting back in the chair, the gold badge hanging by a chain around her neck swung back and forth. Her eye was swollen and her pert little nose was slightly puffy as if traumatized and ready to pour out blood. Troy knew what that particular type of injury looked like, having had many a bloody nose before. Wow, a female FBI agent. He’d seen them on TV before, but never up close and in person. A tough woman. Wouldn’t want to mess with her. Oh, yeah… Staring at her made him begin to wonder what she might look like under all her rough and tough exterior. What her silky, dark hair might feel like running over his fingertips. What her naked body would taste like… Troy shook his head. Great. All he needed was to lust after some female GI Jane in the middle of the FBI Violent Crimes office. “You doing okay there, Chief?” Her concern made Troy’s heart clench. Her voice was like a calming balm spread over a wound needing healing. What is it about her? Troy noticed a stream of blood beginning to ooze from her nose. Despite the pain of his injuries, he leaned over, and grabbed a tissue off the desk. As he moved in to dab the tissue under her nose, her hand slammed forward with a speed that left him stunned. She immobilized his arm. He stilled and grimaced as her grip tightened on his good wrist. He wasn’t even sure why he tried to wipe the blood from her nose rather than give her the tissue. He never expected this kind of reaction. She looked like a wounded animal, ready to pounce to protect herself. “I’m sorry. You have some blood…” His voice trailed off. Her grip eased and she removed the tissue from his hand and pressed it to her nose, leaning back. “Oh. Hey. No. Look I’m sorry. Touching and me. Well… Don’t like it.” She stopped, her face turning a subtle shade of red. Troy eased back into the couch to give her room. “Let’s just say I don’t play well with others,” She said, her voice slightly muffled by the tissue she held to her nose. Troy nodded. Too bad, he thought. He wasn’t sure what to say. When he reached toward her, he recognized the emotion in her expression—fear. A familiar feeling. He knew talking about it would just embarrass her. For some strange reason, he didn’t want to do that. Before Troy could say a word, Jack Farin walked in. Troy felt the tension in the room increase two-fold. Jack Farin, gray-haired, probably close to fifty, maybe six feet one inches tall, and fit. Immaculately dressed in a dark blue suit with a white dress shirt and subtle red tie. There was a formal, old school, TV-FBI air about him. Very calm, as if nothing would shake him. The epitome of what Troy would picture in his mind as FBI Agent. Mr. Farin made eye contact with the female agent. His face turned beet red, his voice hitched, a growling noise emitted from his throat. From his expression, it looked as if his temperature climbed to way beyond normal.

“Christ, Clarin, tell me you at least got that fugitive,” he bellowed while he reached into his drawer and drew out a chemical ice pack. He slammed the pack on his desk to make it cold, and threw it at the agent. She caught it. “I always get the fugitive, sir,” she replied as she applied the ice to her eye. Jack shook his head as if their conversation was a regular occurrence. Troy enjoyed their exchange, recognizing a kind of ritual he guessed the two of them practiced often. “Of course, you will complete the proper paperwork about this injury.” Jack placed both hands on the desk, as if to restrain himself from strangling her. “Sure, Jack. Right after I finish the other one.” “Clarin, your other injury was three months ago.” “Right.” His face turned the color of strawberry jello. He looked ready to explode. “Clarin…” He stopped talking. To Troy, it seemed Jack knew further dressing down was not going to do any good. It was obvious this agent was rogue. His gaze shifted to Troy. About time he noticed I was here, as much as I was enjoying the show. “Troy Vinstonie, meet Agent Josephine Clarin. The best kidnapping and fugitive Agent we have.” Troy groaned. Uh Oh, I know where this is going. “She’ll be working on your case. We’re going to dedicate her and her team.” Troy saw the protest coming from the agent. She sat up in her seat and pushed forward, letting out a squeaking noise. “Jo.” Jack slid a thick manila file marked in bold black letters in her direction. She picked it up. “This is your only priority from this day forward, until I tell you different.” “I have sixty active cases.” Troy subdued a nod. He’d been expecting her follow-up protest. She began to thumb through the file. A photo floated out and drifted to the floor. Troy looked down at the picture. It was a photo of him at the hospital, after he had escaped. On the label, his name Troy Vinstonie and the date. Troy knew it had the hospital location in small black letters on the bottom, Boise, Idaho, Memorial Hospital. The FBI agents had turned up at the hospital that day. He barely remembered. He swam in a fog after the campers in the state park had found him by the side of the road, unconscious and beaten. Troy leaned down to pick up the photo, but Jo beat him to it. He gritted his teeth while adjusting his arm. He felt embarrassment at a stranger seeing his naked and mangled body. The photo appeared to have stunned her speechless. Her protests ceased. She raised her head, her eyes connecting to his, then straying back to the photo. As if attempting to confirm what her eyes told her, she looked back up again. “That Troy Vinstonie?” she said his name in sudden recognition.

Troy couldn’t stand the pity in her gaze. “Could we get on with this?” he asked with a snarl, hoping to kick her out of her stupor and end the sympathy. “Re-assign your cases, Clarin. You have the rest of the squad.” Jack didn’t seem to notice their interplay. “Sure.” She seemed docile now, almost malleable. Troy didn’t like her reaction, at all. “Look. I really don’t see the need to worry about one note…” Jo cut Troy off. “Note. What note?” He glared at her. She narrowed her eyes and frowned. “Since his escape, Troy has received a threatening note. You’re a bright agent. I don’t need to tell you what that means, do I?” “No, Sir.” Her brow furrowed as she sifted through the file. She found a copy of the note. Reading it, she swore. “Clarin, review the file. Troy is yours now. Don’t tell me where you’re taking him. You’ll see why I say that after you read the file. The press received facts on this case, before we gave a statement.” Her eyes narrowed. “I know what to do. You can rely on me.” He nodded. “Check in as if undercover.” “Got it.” “Jo…” Jack hesitated. “Be careful.” “Got it.” She stood up and gave Troy a pointed look. “Let’s go, Chief. You’re mine now.” Troy sucked in a breath, then exploded it out in a gust of angry words. “Do I get any say in what the hell is happening here?” Jo’s placating smile made him angrier. “No. You do not. Let’s go. Move it!” Jack Farin piped in, “Troy, I suggest you go along for the ride. This agent could save your life.” He added, “Oh, and if you don’t go, I have a note here from your media agent which says your sponsors will pull your car.” He swung a white envelope in the air. “Shit,” Troy swore. No sponsor. No car. Goodbye racing career. “Shit.” Jo got up. “Move it.” Troy sat back. He was feeling beyond annoyed. His media agent was going to get an earful. Without a sponsor, he could kiss his NASCAR career goodbye. “Yeah, slow down,” he said. “Takes me a little longer to get around than the super fugitive agent.” As he reached for his crutches, Troy heard her low growl. “You owe me for this one, Jack,” she said as she stomped out without looking back. He gritted his teeth and crutched out of the office behind her. The only benefit to this relationship is the great view of her ass.

Chapter Three Jo purposely slowed her pace as she walked in front of Troy. Oh yes, she had heard of Troy Vinstonie. Although she hadn’t studied the case in detail, she had read the press and remembered the article. Troy Vinstonie, famous NASCAR driver, coming into his own on the circuit, kidnapped from a hotel in North Carolina after a win earlier that day. This was not any kidnapping though—it was a well-planned abduction. The kidnappers utilized the cleaning service to break into his room, killing the on-duty maid, and stuffing her in the bottom of her service cart. Troy had been snatched from his hotel room around two a.m. For fourteen days, not a word heard, no ransom demand; a highly publicized manhunt proceeded. On the fourteenth day, out of the blue, Vinstonie shows up outside of Boise, Idaho on the side of the road, in the gutter down the way from a popular state park. Kidnapped and taken across state lines made it a federal case, enter the FBI. The press was not given the details of Troy’s injuries, and Jo saw why they left the information out. All this occurred a little over eight weeks ago. Those injuries and memories must be painfully fresh in Troy’s mind. Jo felt a twinge of sympathy for him. She knew what emotional and physical scars could do to a person. She carried them herself, from a much younger age. Behind her, Troy swore. “Try to keep up, Chief. Any slower and we’ll be there sometime tomorrow.” He swore. The crutches stopped tapping on the hall floor. She turned, her eyebrow lifted, egging him on further. She knew exactly what he needed now to keep him going. Anger. Only anger would carry him through the pain. Jo leaned against the wall to wait him out. Man, he’s beautiful. Five weeks of hell hadn’t lessened his sensual persona. A man’s man; the scent of him made her nostrils flare, sweat mixed with a masculine, spicy cologne. Dark, wavy hair dropped down to the top of his wide shoulders, flopping in his eye on one side, tucked around his ear on the other. Right now, the veins in his arms bulged with the pressure of his weight as he pushed himself forward with the ease of a body builder lifting five pounders. He wore jeans, old, worn, and tight, hugging his muscled legs. Split up the leg to accommodate his cast. A white T-shirt covered his obviously ripped chest. It should be illegal to look that good in worn jeans and a simple T-shirt. Jo snorted. She rarely watched car racing. She did remember seeing him on TV once. He wasn’t what you would expect to see in your typical Southern raised stock-car driver. When the announcer described his upbringing, she expected to see a red-haired farm boy ease out of the car, not this tall, dark, and exotic Italian. He looked more like an Indy driver from the European circuit who lived in some romantic, foreign country. No wonder the media and public loved him. Even on TV, he emitted an animal magnetism after he unfolded himself from the tomb of a car, sweaty, a five o’clock

shadow caressing his face from hours on the track. Watching him now, she saw his ordeal hadn’t dimmed his sensual energy. Whew, I could eat him up. Crap I’ve got a problem. “Agent Clarin?” “My friends call me Jo.” “Agent Clarin.” Jo shrugged, a smile tugging at her lips. So he wanted to play hardball. “Some people who don’t like me call me Jo, too.” She grinned. His jaw clenched as if her amusement frustrated him more. He crutched forward. Good, aggravated is as good as angry. Jo turned and strode in front of him, rounding the corner to the fugitive unit. Inside, five desks crowded together, two back-to-back, two facing the other, and one off to the side. The room was decorated in a special sort of wallpaper. Photos of fugitives lined the walls, each one marked with the word ‘Captured’ stamped across their faces. Newspaper articles of the unit’s accomplishments littered the window, taped to the glass. Their trophies. They had wallpapered their office with the faces of the guilty. Every time Jo looked at them, she felt a sense of satisfaction. They reminded her—she did make a difference. The four men sitting at the desks glanced up at her arrival. When Troy crutched in after her, the back-and-forth talking died down. Jo scooted a chair from around her desk and sat it front and center. “Sit.” Jo leaned back against her desk and crossed her ankles. Troy gave her an angry look. Jo felt a perverse satisfaction in the fact he didn’t like taking orders. She wondered what he would do if she handcuffed him to the bed, his olive-skinned body sprawled out spread eagle, his naked body glowing from the oil she’d rub on him, one inch at a time, the way his body would jerk when she applied her tongue to his cock and sucked. What? Holy hell, where the crap did that come from? She cleared her throat. The office went completely silent, then one of her men said, “I’ve got to go. Call you back later.” A phone receiver hit the cradle. Troy’s voice broke the silence that followed. “I’m getting a little sick of you telling me what to do, Agent Clarin,” Jo wrinkled her nose. After reviewing possible responses, she smiled and winked at him. Did I really just wink at him? What’s the matter with me? Please tell me I didn’t do that in front of my crew. There was only one way to recover. She pushed away from her desk. “Yeah, no doubt you are. Let’s get one thing straight here.” Jo reached out to take his crutches. At first, she thought he would resist, then his mouth eased. He slowly unfolded himself from his crutches and handed them to her. “I’m a bitch, Vinstonie. A class A, number one bitch.” Jo raised her hand and swept it around the room. “Any of these guys will swear on any given day, they hate me more than cooked spinach.” Troy’s eyes surveyed the room. She knew what he saw, three young agents and one newbie. Four of her most trusted crew were all nodding goodnaturedly.

“But… “ She eased his crutches next to her desk and flipped her hand at the chair. “I’m the finest damn VCMO agent they’ll ever work with and your best chance at catching these bastards. Cuz that’s what I know you really want; to catch the scum that did this to you. Tell me I’m wrong.” She swept her hand up and down to indicate his condition. She sensed he saw the team’s nods, and Troy dropped his chin in a miniature, agreeing nod. “So take a load off and relax, and I’ll introduce you to the brat pack.” Jo felt relieved when he eased down into the chair. She wanted to wipe her brow however couldn’t let him know she was sweating. Round one to her. Good. Jo faced her crew. Man, I love these guys. As far as she was concerned, they were the best damn fugitive squad in the Bureau. “Guys, this is Troy Vinstonie, NASCAR driver extraordinaire and our latest kidnapping case.” Jo moved down the line. “Carl Zeik. We call him Z.” She pointed to Zeik and pondered what he might look like to Troy, perhaps a student. He was well groomed, and preppy, with round glasses, baggy pants, and sandals as if he should be walking the halls of Berkeley College, where she had sent him undercover a time or two. He raised a hand in greeting. “Jim Ellis, my second in command.” Jim made a gun with his thumb and first finger and simulated shooting Troy. “Nice to meet ya, dude.” “Randy, the Lion, Reinhart.” A burly-looking, bald-headed man flexed his bicep, which carried a tattoo of a roaring lion. A Vin Diesel double, he wore a T-shirt and jeans and looked like he should be bouncing at the local strip club. He had the most beautiful wife and tiny, sweet daughter, which made Jo hesitate to place him in danger. “And last but not least, Sandy Krane, or as we have affectionately termed him, the Newbie.” The kid looked like he was fresh out of an Alabama military school with a close military hair cut, creases in his Blue Birds, the cargo pants of the FBI. Still obviously, wet behind the ears. Most new FBI agents were named the FNG. Officially, the initials stood for first office new agent. Everyone knew it really meant the fucking new guy. “Cool. I like the way you drive, Sir.” Troy acknowledged the boy’s praise with a smile and a “thanks.” Right now he looked like he would slide off the chair. Jo felt sympathy for him. “All right, boys, enough small talk. Let’s get to work.” She slid over the file Jack gave her. Everyone picked up a pen and notebook. The routine was like a religious experience for Jo. They all knew what happened next. She had trained them well. “Jim, get copies of this file for the crew. Use the secretary. Get them yesterday. “Z, call the Boise and North Carolina Bureau and have all evidence transferred, all notes, even the toilet paper they wiped with, everything, here, express, by ten a.m. tomorrow.

“Lion, get that note for the case out of evidence. Prep a memo to the lab and send it to Headquarters before close of business today. Find out the details of where it came from. “Everyone, I want you to know this case like the back of your hand by three p.m. tomorrow.” Jo’s gaze shifted to the Newbie. He gave her his puppy-dog expression. One week in her unit, directly from the FBI training center, Quantico. Her squad was an unofficial training squad from the VCMO unit. She had to pull people from where she could get them. He had potential, and she couldn’t treat him any differently than any of the other guys. The unit had been together for three years. They all had to pay their dues. “Coffee all around, it’s going to be a late night. Help the secretary make those copies. Oh, and re-assign all my current cases to the other VCMO agents.” He sighed and nodded. “And put Vinstonie’s bags in my car.” She tossed him her keys. He caught them with a frown. “Move,” she urged. He skidded out of the office. “You got it, Boss.” “I’ll be on cell phone. My location will be classified. We’ll discuss the reasons tomorrow. Coordinate through Jim.” Jo made eye contact with Jim. He nodded, one reason for going silent—a Bureau leak. A potentially lethal problem for all of them, especially Troy. Even a media leak from their end could kill the case. Jo glanced at Troy. He looked tired. Dark circles rimmed his light brown eyes, giving a sallow tinge to his olive skin. “You ready, Chief?” He shrugged. While she gave orders, the anger had leaked out of him. She needed to stir it up. “Okay, gimpy, let’s roll.” She grabbed his crutches and thrust them under his nose, then slapped the ice pack she had laid on her desk back on her eye. Sparks ignited in his eyes, and she smiled. Hold on to that anger. **** “So what brings you to my fair city, slick?” Troy turned his head to stare at the most aggravating woman he had ever met in his life, a woman he seemed to be bizarrely attracted to. Man, her sexy voice is killing me. I’ve got a hard on that won’t stop. He shifted in the car, a standard, government issued vehicle with all sorts of interesting gadgets and radios. The Oakland Police radio seated in a holder next to him continued to broadcast, making it difficult to answer her. It was telling the tale of a beat cop chasing down a kid who, in his trek for freedom, had thrown a stash of drugs. The cop ran and talked at the same time, yet he seemed calm. Not anything like the movies. The cop’s life was on the line, right now, while they were listening. Chilling to hear. “Is that happening in real life, right now?” Troy asked his gut clenching. “Yep.” She reached over and turned it down without peeking at the volume switch. Her blind instinct he understood very well. When in his car, attached to more gadgets than she

could dream of, knowing and locating everything by touch took practice. Taking your eyes off the track for even one second during a race could mean your death and terror for those around you. Troy switched gears in his mind back to her original question. “I guess you bring me here, Sherlock.” He enjoyed the war of the titles. “I was staying with my media agent for a few weeks of rest and relaxation. We get one letter and next thing you know, we’re crossing the bridge from San Francisco to Oakland and I’m chauffeured directly to your boss’ office.” “Um. Sounds like a conspiracy.” She chuckled at his scowl. “You’ve got it right. Weird he flew me all the way from Boise for recovery, when I live in North Carolina.” “Ah, so that’s where your hint of a lovely southern drawl comes from, Rhett.” She smiled, appearing pleased with herself. He forced down a grin at her newest pet name for him. “Yeah, well, its mostly gone. Sometimes it creeps in, along with the Italian. A Southern-Italian drawl, you can imagine how the kids at grade school teased me. So can I ask where we’re going, or is that ‘cloak and dagger’ classified?” He held up his fingers to place quotes around the phrase. “I know it seems like I’m being paranoid.” At his nod, she continued. “Necessary, believe me. If we have a leak at the Bureau on your case, your location is not secure. And if your location is not secure, neither are you. And that, Rhett, would really piss me off.” She said the last sentence with such passion it surprised him. “Why would there be a leak? And what kind of leak?” “Don’t know.” She drove with ease, obviously comfortable multitasking. Even though it didn’t show on the surface, he realized she knew everything that was happening around her. Troy began to feel a grudging respect for this woman. “I’m not going to chance it until I find out. Even a media leak could be lethal.” She eased around a curve to the freeway on-ramp. “See, this is the thing, Chief—I want to be in control of this investigation. I don’t want anyone else mixing it up with my team, until I ask for it.” She put her foot into the accelerator. Troy clung to the door. Christ, you would think we just hit a NASCAR track. “Until then, we keep this on the sly. That means you don’t make contact with any buddies until I say you can. Got it?” She changed lanes without looking, making Troy clamp his teeth together I’m being held hostage in a car with a crazy, exceptionally sexy, FBI agent. “Okay.” “Now, that’s what I want to keep hearing coming out of your mouth.” She turned, grinned at him and changed lanes. “Right.” Troy clenched down a little more on his teeth. For now, he’d let her think she’d won. Hopefully, his teeth wouldn’t be ground to nubs by the time they arrived to their destination. “So a Southern-Italian boy who likes to race. Tell me that story.” He couldn’t help but smile. “Not much to tell. I’m daddy’s boy.” “Ahhhh. Runs in the family, this need for speed?” “Oh, yeah. My Dad is a four-time Winston Cup stockcar champion. His father was an Italian Indy car racer. They immigrated to the United States.” “Big family?”

“Two brothers, two sisters, and fourteen nieces and nephews. My parents have been married almost thirty years. A proper Italian family.” “That’s nice, slick. You’re a lucky man.” She winked at him. “Sometimes I don’t feel like I get much privacy in my life.” He watched her shoulders shrug with indifference and an intense expression flit across her features. “Trust me, slick, giving up a little privacy is nothing compared to not having a family.” She sounded so absolute, so sure, made him wonder what her family was like. “No family?” As soon as he said it, he could tell he wasn’t going to like her reply. At first, she didn’t answer him. She scanned the road, did another rapid lane change and bounded toward the off ramp. “Hold on. Want to try a few counter moves to make sure we’re not being followed.” She did another few quick maneuvers, earning them dirty looks and one raised finger. At the last minute, she jumped the car off the freeway. Then she looped around, took a couple side streets, and leaped back onto the freeway. She was concentrating now, not talking, just scanning. A couple more miles on the freeway, they exited and headed for the hills. “We’re going to crash at my place for a couple of days until I can get things secured. You’ll be safe.” She made the last comment as if she were talking to herself, working it all out. “We can’t stay in one place too long, especially if we have a Bureau leak. I have a plan.” “Okay.” “Here.” She pulled a bottle of water from an unknown location. It simply appeared. “Take your medication. Close your eyes for a few.” So it’s like that… take your medication and shut up. “Man, you’re bossy. Did anyone ever tell you that?” “Every day.” She handed him the water. “I think you’re stuck with it. Get used to it.” “Great.” “Yeah, I know. Anyway, to answer your question, no, I don’t have any family,” she said. Troy dug into his meds and downed a couple of pills. “The story of my life would bring tears to your cozy little family’s loving eyes, Vinstonie, so just don’t ask.” “Okay, I can see we’re going to have a good time together, you and I.” He took another sip of water. “Not only do you not play well with others, you’re a bitch, you’re bossy, you don’t like to be touched, and, oh, don’t talk to you about your life.” She sighed, headed straight up toward the hills around Oakland. “Now you’ve got it. You left one thing out… I’m damn good at what I do.” “I bet you are, Sherlock. I bet you are.” Troy slid his head against the back of the seat and closed his eyes. She could be one cold bitch, he thought.

Chapter Four The brush of a butterfly’s wing fluttered against Troy’s cheek, waking him. He smiled and reached up to catch it, only to feel a human hand. His eyes eased open. Jo leaned over him. She snatched her hand back. “You okay?” Her softly spoken question left him speechless. He stared at her. “You’re soooooo beautiful.” He wasn’t sure if he said the words aloud but, he was definitely thinking them. The frown line between her eyes cleared, and she smiled. “Now I know you’re doing all right. Flying a little there, Troy?” “Such a sexxxy voice! Say something else.” She chuckled and eased her arm around him. “Come on, Big Boy, time to get you to bed.” “Yeah, let’s do that. Let’s go to bed.” “We’ll do that, just help me out here.” She tugged him, inch by inch, out of the car. The cool night air hit him, clearing a few wisps of clouds from his mind. He stumbled against her, his arm going around her waist. She felt good, soft yet firm, the way he imagined she would feel. Her waist was small against his hand, and he let his fingers stray down. “Oooh, okay, Big Boy, no fair copping a feel.” Troy shook his head, trying to clear away the rest of the clouds. He was flying, that was for sure. “I apologize for anything I do or say that is inappro…inapp…ummm, how about— not right.” “It’s inappropriate, slick. That’s all right. You get a little leeway right now, injured and drugged up. It’s like a get-out-of-jail-free card.” “Cool!” He leaned against her as she walked him to a small house. He surveyed the area. He hadn’t known so much land in California existed anymore, it seemed to him they were out in the middle of nowhere. “Where are we?” “My pad.” Troy winced as they struggled into the house. “Hang in there, slick, we’re almost there.” It seemed like forever before Troy felt the softness of a bed beneath his back. “Sleep now.” That soothing voice had him closing his eyes. “’K,” was the last thing Troy remembered saying. **** Jo plucked the stuffed animal from under Troy’s head. This was her recovery room. The walls were plastered with Disney characters. Stuffed animals littered the dressers and bed. She used this room for the kids; the ones who didn’t get out of the way when their drunken fathers beat them; kids lost in a sea of abuse; kids who had been like her. She

remembered a time when she didn’t have any help. No escape from her abusive mother and her current lover. It’s time to stop remembering and start working. She reached down and wrestled off Troy’s shoes, then went about getting his clothes off. She wanted to see, up close and personal, what had happened to Troy. The physical scars. All in the line of work, she thought, smirking. It took some work and a lot of deep breathing, but Jo managed to take Troy down to his boxers. Thank God he’s not wearing some sort of skin-tight briefs. I’m not sure I could keep my hands off him. Jo wiped the sweat from her upper lip. Moving a large man like this, even when he was out like a light, was no small task. Thankfully, Jo took to caring for the sick. The bed adjusted, which helped elevate his foot and upper body. It had drop-down side rails to help her maneuver around him. She slid a small pillow under his arm to help isolate it and cushioned his head with another pillow. He should be getting the casts removed real soon, Jo thought. She clicked on the light above the bed and surveyed his injuries. She tried to keep her thoughts professional. Man, they really did a job on him. Faded purple and yellow bruises covered his body. He had multiple cuts on the chest and neck, with a few slice marks below his boxers. She peered closer. No infections and healing well, which meant the cuts had been shallow, meant to tease and torture. Besides the casts on his arm and foot, he had gauze wrapped around his wrist. That cut might have been deeper and needed protection. She eyed the strangulation marks on this neck, or maybe they were rope burns. Jo recognized all those injuries. When she was a kid, she had carried a few of them herself. Jo leaned closer when she spotted a burn mark on his chest, it appeared to be… no it couldn’t be. It was a burn, but not a regular burn. I looked like something she might see on an old western movie roundup day. It was unique, with severe bruising surrounding it. Someone had branded him. Jo sucked in a breath. Her anger mounted. What kind of animal would do this? What kind of animal could intentionally inflict this kind of damage on another human? She shook her head and tried to release some of her anger. She knew firsthand what type of animal this was, and it saddened her. Jo ran her finger over a bruise on his inner arm, recognizing the needle marks. Drugged, God knows what they had used. His arm jerked under her touch. She reached up to stroke his cheek. “It’s okay, Troy.” Her words seemed to calm him, and he settled back down. Jo used the same techniques to soothe children—common kindness and human connection. After adjusting his body so he would sleep comfortably, Jo tucked a blanket over him and dropped down in the chair next to the bed. She picked up the prescription bottle she had retrieved from his pocket and set it on the nightstand Whew, she shook her head. That dosage is strong. No wonder he passed out.

She sorted through the remaining meds, an anti-inflammatory, antibiotic, and a nausea medicine. Probably to counter the upset stomach he would get from taking all those meds. She wasn’t an expert, however this lot looked pretty grim. A moan from the bed caught her attention. Troy panted, his hand curled into a fist. She eased her hand over his. Slowly releasing his fist, she placed her hand in his. He’s going to hate that I saw him like this—helpless. Jo pressed her lips together. Troy was a strong man, and she’d bet he didn’t like to be caught in a position of vulnerability. “Easy there, Troy. You’re safe. Sleep easy.” Her voice quieted him. She knew what happened after your body and mind were traumatized. When he slept, he would be in a dark place, wrapped in the nightmare and challenging the face of his enemy. Jo understood those feelings all too well. After Social Services had taken her from her mother’s house, she had experienced nightmares for years. Shoot, sometimes when she had a bad day, in the dead of the night, the nightmares still claimed her. Troy’s hand gripped hers. She held on and softly rubbed his arm. “It’s okay. You’re safe.” His hand loosened, his breathing settled, and with a sigh, he rested peacefully. Staring at him, Jo eased his hand back onto the blanket and stood. So attractive. He drew her, even sleeping on his back and helpless, she felt his pull. Jo clicked her tongue and removed her hand. Moth to a flame. Not a good combination. Moths burned so close to flame. “Well, Humpty Dumpty, let’s see if we can put you back together again.” From her own experience, Jo knew he would probably not sleep more than four to six hours before the nightmares and pain would wake him. She had a file to review and still needed to get his luggage from the car and get him unpacked. After one last look at Troy, Jo headed out the door. **** Troy was dangling, hanging by his wrists. A rope wrapped around his neck, forcing labored breaths from his constricted throat. Blood dripped down his arms from his attempts to pull his wrist out of chains over and over again. Then he heard it… The shuffle of feet. Someone was coming. Troy froze every time he heard movement. In his stillness, the pain shooting through his body magnified. He tried to ease his breathing and halt his fear. The hood they had placed on his head was stifling hot. He could hear his own panic, smell his fear. “So you’re awake.” Troy was silent. “Seems like you’re looking for more pain, huh?” Troy didn’t say anything, he hated those words. The man said them every time he came. He wouldn’t let his kidnappers hear how scared he really was. “I have a special treat for you this time. Picked it up in a little burglary trip.” Troy heard a sizzling noise and briefly wondered what it was. Then he felt a blinding burn on his chest. His body jerked—an involuntary movement. He ground his teeth and growled, trying not to cry out, but ultimately his growl turned into a scream. They’re burning me with something.

He saw an angel, a beautiful dark-haired woman. Even though the hood covered his eyes, he still saw her. She wore all white and her voice was beautiful. She floated in front of his eyes. So soothing. She spoke to him, then touched him to the depths of his soul. Her words made him strong. She was the light. “Troy, you’re safe. You’re with me now. Stay with me and be strong.” Troy’s body jerked as his captor seared his flesh. Strangely enough there was no longer any pain. His angel had saved him. “Troy. You’re safe. Rest easy.” Troy sighed and suddenly he awoke. His eyes snapped open and he twitched to consciousness. “Troy.” His angel was there. Jo. Holding his hand. “Are you with me?” she asked. Troy frowned. Avoiding her eyes, he looked around. He was bewildered to see he had entered a kid’s toy play land; under his arm a pink lacy pillow, and at his feet, a stuffed bear. Troy squinted and peered at the cartoon characters plastered over the walls. There was even a cute kid light fixture. He was lying in some sort of hospital bed. Weird. “You’ve taken me to a toy store?” Troy heard her laugh as she released his hand. Feeling as if he’d lost something precious, he flexed his fingers. “Where am I?” She set the file from her lap on the nightstand behind her. He assumed she’d been reading his file. She gave him her full attention. “You’re at my place. Specifically, my guest room.” “Please don’t tell me I’ve taken your kid’s bed.” She reached up and adjusted the pillow under his head. Something about this rough and tough woman mothering him made him feel warm inside. What he didn’t like, at all, was he appeared to be unclothed, flat on his back, basically helpless, and in front of her. Could his ego take a bigger beating? He opened his mouth to complain when she leaned over to adjust his arm on a small lacy pillow. Her scent floated over him, roses combined with lilacs. He realized not all of his body was broken, one part was rising to her smell, right now. He breathed in as if her unique fragrance was the essence of life. Okay, maybe being helpless, almost naked, and in this woman’s guest bed isn’t so bad after all. He had it bad for her. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to pull her onto his nearly naked body and kiss those beautiful, full lips. Kissable lips, he thought, and gritted his teeth when she dropped back down into the chair “No, I don’t have any children.” He waited. She didn’t give any further information. Her lips pressed together, telling him she was done volunteering information. “So,” he pushed, “want to tell me why you have your spare bedroom decorated like a Disney goes to the hospital movie?” By her manner he could tell she wasn’t comfortable sharing information about herself. “I’m a volunteer for the National Center for Child Abuse and Neglect.” She grabbed the file folder and started sorting through it. He guessed she wasn’t seeing the

words on the printed pages. She radiated uneasiness. “When children arrive needing medical attention outside of the hospital, I volunteer this room and a little bit of my time. Along with some help from my neighbors.” She shrugged her shoulders. “To help, you know, get them back on their feet. There’s a center downtown I coordinate with.” Her fingers tapped against the file folder, her voice turning brisk. “Enough sharing. Can we get to work here? Let me give you the rundown.” Troy stared at her. He felt stunned. She’s an advocate for abused children? He didn’t place her in that position at all. An FBI agent: sharp, confident, independent. What is going on here? What was the story behind this woman? “The bathroom is in there.” She flipped her hand toward a closed door with a cartoon tiger on the front. The finger swerved, aiming at the pink dresser with various cartoon characters painted on it. “Your stuff is in the dresser. I’m giving you five minutes to use the bathroom, then we are getting to work.” Troy wanted to argue with her, unfortunately right now the bathroom looked pretty good. He turned to her as she handed him his crutches and pointed. “We’ll talk about your highhanded treatment when I get back.” Troy crutched his way to the bathroom, feeling a little embarrassed in his boxers and nothing else. Reaching the end of the bed, he leaned down and grabbed his pajamas off the stuffed bear. He couldn’t face her in the boxers. His erection was too telling. He didn’t want her to see she had the power to arouse him. “Oh, and Troy?” He glanced over his shoulder. “You don’t have anything I haven’t already seen.” She winked at him. “Yeah, we’ll also be discussing that.” **** Troy took his time in the bathroom. It was a major trick just to get his pj’s over his casts. He felt grateful the heavy casts would come off soon, replaced by a sling for his arm and a walking cast for his foot. The doctor seemed hopeful in a few weeks both his arm and foot would heal completely. He needed to get back to the circuit. Being away too long was bad news for a driver. He needed to return before the end of the season. Knowing a relief driver was racing his car made him want to crawl to the track, if necessary, and claim his rightful place. Scowling at his thoughts, he pulled on the pajama sleeve. The damn top looked like it should slip right on, but it hung up on his cast and didn’t get past his shoulder. Fury crept up on him, a rage so strong he could taste the bitterness. Christ, I’m a mess. He was still shaky from that nightmare. Every time he closed his eyes, he rehashed the kidnapping, the torture and the pain. Troy tipped his head and looked into the mirror. Reaching down, he turned on the water. Using one hand, he scooped it up and over his face. The death threat note. He tried not to let it scare him, but it did. It terrified him. What if they abducted him again? What if they killed him this time? What if… Troy dropped his head, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to calm his panic.

I’m losing it. He banged his broken arm on the sink, the cast clunking against the porcelain. Damn. Damn. Damn. “Troy, five minutes are up.” Troy’s head came up. The anger radiating in his eyes mirrored back to him. “Fuck off, lady,” he said, his voice raw. She didn’t run his life. She didn’t owe him anything. He was a job to her. He didn’t even like her. Glancing at the angry man in the mirror, he didn’t like what he saw. He hated the fear and loss of control he was experiencing. He despised everything about this situation. One of the best drivers on the circuit, he drove without fear, calm and cool under pressure. Now, he couldn’t even go to the bathroom without getting livid. The door ripped open. “Right back at you, Chief.” He watched Jo breeze in, taking in his situation with a glance. She reached past him, pulled out a drawer under the sink, grabbed a pair of scissors, and quickly and efficiently cut the arm off his top. Feeling angrier at her for fixing the problem, Troy tugged his shirt the rest of the way on. She swung open the door and pointed to the bed. Troy limped past her, trying to gracefully crutch back to the bed. In his attempt to appear cool, he swung the crutches too far out. One slipped out of his grasp, thudding to the floor. Holding onto the other crutch, he tipped precariously, afraid of losing control. She came up behind him to steady him. He shrugged her off. His movement sent him flying backward. They both went down like a pair of dice, Troy landing on his ass, while she rolled to his right. With a wordless yell, Troy threw his other crutch. It hit the bed and rolled to the side. “God damn it! Will you leave me the fuck alone?” Troy turned toward Jo. She sat up, crossed her legs Indian-style and rubbed her shoulder. “Are you done having your little temper tantrum, or should I stay out of the line of fire? I think I have some Nerf boxing gloves if you want to use them on me. Might help.” She held up her hands in the universal sign for surrender, then dropped them and heaved a sigh. “I know how you feel.” Her words ignited him. He saw red. Blood red. He shifted to face her, then he released the full strength of his resentment. “Lady, you don’t know shit about me or how I feel.” Her eyes narrowed. “I do.” Troy scooted closer and snarled. He removed his shirt, then began to unwrap the gauze from his wrists. “You do. Do you? Really?” He unrolled one wrist and held it up to her. A nasty scar showed on the underside of his wrist and abrasions around the outside. “Have you ever had someone hang you by your wrists with a chain, slitting them first so you bleed to death, and make so many cuts in your torso you can’t feel where one cut begins and another ends? Oh, and let’s talk about this.” He pointed to the brand. “Ever have someone brand your flesh before? It smells, you know. Flesh reeks when it burns.” Troy roared the last sentence. “Oh, wait, if that’s not enough, you get to have your arm broke.” He lifted the arm with the cast. “Just because you’re living the high life.”

Glaring, he dared her to answer. “You have no fucking idea how I feel. So stop fucking trying to identify with me. Okay?” Out of breath, Troy gasped, panting as if he had just run a five-mile race. He had never told anyone the details of his torture. When asked, he said he didn’t remember. He only told people his kidnappers had drugged him and he couldn’t remember anything except trying to escape. He said it was all a fog. Why did I tell her those things? She got up and drew closer. Troy tried to slow his breathing. “Feel better?” She picked up his shirt and tried to put it back on him. Troy snagged her wrist and he saw the burn of instant rage in her eyes. Good. He was finally getting something from her. Let her feel a fraction of what he’d been through. She pulled her arm back against his hand. He remembered what she said, she doesn’t like to be touched. His grip tightened. At first Troy thought she would hit him. Do it. Give it to me. He wanted her raw emotion, anything except her sympathy or her pity. He refused to release her arm. He waged a silent battle of wills with her, a war of emotions that ran through both of them. Her mouth grim, she tugged. He retaliated and yanked back. Finally, she eased down in front of him, so close he could see her dilated pupils. “You’re determined, aren’t you, Chief, to get a little personal piece of me? You’re not going to let me help you until you understand. You’re not like the kids. Are you?” She held her arm up and gazed pointedly at his hand. “Let me go and I’ll show you.” Troy released her arm. He could see the red marks his grip left on her wrist. His spurt of triumph died, and he felt shame. She wore a button-down shirt. Slowly, she unbuttoned the cuffs. Troy furrowed his brow. What is she doing? Her cuffs free, she began to unbutton the front of her shirt. Troy sat back. Is she coming onto me? He acted like a child and now she undressed for him. Troy’s heart tripped a beat faster, his body responding to the skin she slowly revealed like a teenager on their first fuck. Leaning forward, Troy opened his mouth to say something when the fabric parted. Her shirt dropped to the floor. Troy sucked in a breath, his heart pounding. Looking at her, he wanted to roar his anger. Scars were everywhere on her torso, from her naval to her neck, long scars, short scars, some scars looked like burns. She raised her wrist. Troy saw a long scar underneath, a cut. “This one I did myself, when I was ten.” He saw the sadness in her expression. He felt a rush of sorrow for her, and anger at himself for forcing her into this display. She raised her arms. “Both my arms have been broken.” She pointed to a scar on her neck. “This is a burn mark, a cigarette.” She turned around. What Troy saw was unimaginable, criss-crossed scars all over her back. “These were inflicted by a belt.” Her head had fallen forward, her arms crossed in front of her as if to protect herself.

“Don’t imagine, Troy, in a million years you are alone in your feelings.” Her tortured expression met his. “This anger, this helplessness is felt by one out of every twelve children who are abused or neglected.” Troy was speechless, utterly, overwhelmingly miserable for what he had said, for hurting her. She did know what he was experiencing. His torture had lasted days, but hers…hers must have lasted years. Troy placed his hand on her back. She flinched, trying to shrug it off. He whispered, “Jo.” Her evasive movements stopped. She became still. Easing forward, he gently wrapped his arms around her. He felt her tense and knew she wanted to bolt. “Please, don’t leave.” He needed to connect with her, to apologize in his own way. She didn’t move, as if she understood—or maybe she needed the contact as much as he did. His heart pumping with an emotion he didn’t recognize, Troy pulled her between his legs and laid his chest against her scarred back. His arms wrapped fully around her, securing her to him. Her voice broke. “Damn you, Troy, for making me do this.” “Shhhh, shhhh.” Troy made his voice soothing. He’d forced her into a show of vulnerability and knew how fragile she must feel. “I know.” He placed his cheek next to hers. “I know. I know.” By degrees, she relaxed in his arms. Troy rubbed his hand over the red marks on her wrist, inflicted in his own anger. “God, I’m sorry, Jo. So sorry. Please forgive me.” His emotions jumbled, he felt his eyes tear up for this woman and the pain she had endured. It didn’t matter that he only met her yesterday. He knew her. With his soul, he knew her. He rubbed his cheek against hers. He felt connected to her in a way he had never experienced with any other person in his life. A connection forged from the trauma others had inflicted upon them. “Want me to get out those Nerf boxing gloves?” she asked. “Sure would be easier than this gut wrenching emotional moment we have gotten ourselves into.” Troy smiled, recognizing her need to try and ease the tension. “This is a huge moment, isn’t it?” He closed his eyes and continued to hold her. Her skin against his hands felt much better than any Nerf boxing gloves. “Um, yeah, but the minute’s almost over. Okay?” “Okay.” He breathed in her rose and lilac scent. It wasn’t over yet. “I forgive you, Troy. I’m not sure stuffed bear will be so happy. I think you crushed his face with your crutch.” He rubbed his chin against a scar on her shoulder. “Some day, will you tell me how this happened?” Her body tensed. “I’ll think about it. What about you? Seems like you gave me more information in thirty seconds about this kidnapping than any of those reports I read.” A silence stretched an instant too long. He sighed. “Yeah, Jo, I’ll tell you and I’ll take care of the bear.” He felt her smile against his cheek and she laughed. “So here we are, half naked in a very awkward position on the floor.” “Yeah, I think my good leg is cramping.”

“Let’s put ourselves together and talk. You up for it?” “I might need help getting up.” Letting her help him was a peace offering. Before, he would have shaken her off. Now, it didn’t matter. He released her. She stood, grabbed her shirt and pulled it back on. “Next time you take your shirt off for me, I have a different ending in mind.” Buttoning her shirt, she paused. Troy had seen the hesitation, the spark of interest in her eyes, and drank it in. “In your dreams, Vinstonie.” “That would be a vast improvement on my current nightmares.” Admitting his vulnerabilities seems inconsequential now. She reached down. Her jaw set, she heaved him up off the floor. He teetered. She moved forward to help him. Troy conveniently tipped so her arms went around his waist and he trapped her. “Vinstonie, you’re not going to get all gropey on me again, are you?” Troy was smart enough to not answer and sly enough to get his hands around her before she could protest. Off-balance, he tilted her into his arms, locking her against his chest. He steadied himself against the back of the bed. She started to struggle. “You’re going to send us back onto the floor,” he said. She stopped squirming. Troy eased his face toward hers, honing in on those kissable lips. “Troy, don’t you dare.” He moved in, one millimeter at a time, angled, aligned, until he reached his destination—a breath away from those full lips. “Troy. Quit it.” Ignoring her protest, he slid in closer, almost touching. Her lips were saying no, but her hands caressed his back. “You got a problem?” he murmured. He smiled while she growled, and laughed when she sighed. He recognized the instant she gave up the fight, a little hitch before the final puff of breath. The tense hand on his back relaxed, her fingers spreading out. Her thumb started to circle his lower back. She licked her lips. He burned. Time to move. He started it slow, a peck then nibble. She leaned forward, her soft lips against his, following his lead. “This isn’t smart,” she whispered between nibbles. “Shut up.” Troy finished with the snack. Now he would consume the meal. His hand clenched on her back. The position wasn’t quite right, so he moved his hand to the back of her head, and positioned her to the exact angle he needed. Then he began to feast. Her lips were as delicious as he expected, soft and smooth. They followed him wherever he went. Her hair was silky like velvet, just the way he had thought it would feel as the strands ran through his fingers. Troy groaned when she moved in closer, pressed her body against his, and raised her arms around his shoulders. Her hands plunged into his hair. He felt her answering need for him. Tasting her sweetness, he dipped his tongue into her mouth. She made a mewing noise, like a cat sipping cream. It drove Troy over the edge. Losing control, moving from her lips to suck and nibble at her throat, he angled and seized her lips again. Emotions ran through him. He had never felt this way with a

woman before. All other kisses paled next to this. He wanted to rip her clothes off, worship every scar on her body, and sink his cock deep into her. Vaguely he heard a ringing, a constant jarring noise that tore her lips from his. She ducked out of his arms, leaving him feeling empty. “My cell phone.” She plucked her phone off the table. “Clarin,” she said, her voice terse. Troy glanced at the mouse clock on the dresser. Ten p.m. already. Where had the day gone? “Okay, thanks, Jim. Yeah.” Her eyes moved to his. He smiled. “No. He’s good. See you at three.” Troy reached down and collected his crutches. After leaning them against the wall, he eased onto the bed. “I know,” she said. “Find it. Bye.” She hung up, then reached into the drawer and drew out some gauze and another pair of scissors. “Troy,” she began. He held up his hand to stop her. “Jo, don’t belittle me by saying something stupid like that was a mistake, blah, blah, blah. I don’t want to hear it.” She laid her hands on her hips and gave him a look. In her eyes, he read arousal and exasperation with some regret mixed in. Matching her stare, he waggled his eyebrows twice and padded the mattress next to him with a suggestive smile. “Want to join me?” She opened her mouth and shut it. Troy hid a smile. If he didn’t know any better, he would say he had shocked her. “We,” she gestured from his chest to hers, “have to get to work. I have a meeting at three p.m. tomorrow and I need your help.” Troy sighed and flopped back. He spread his arms. “I’m all yours, babe, anytime, anyway, anywhere.” He gave her his woman killer smile. The beginnings of a smile curved the corners of her lips “You’re something else, Casanova.” “So are you, Jo. So are you.” His eyes followed her as she came around and took up her former position. She tenderly replaced the dressing on his wrist. While she wrapped his wrist, he studied her. Beautiful, even with her hair sliding over her eye. With care, Troy reached over and tucked it behind her ear, then drew his index finger around her swollen eye. “That’s going to turn black, darlin’.” She looked up and smiled at him. A dimple indented her right cheek, and he wondered why he hadn’t noticed it before. It was sexy as hell. His body heated. Everything about her shouted sensuality. “It was worth it,” She finished and sat in the chair next to the bed. She picked up the file. “All right, let’s go over all the details you left out from your original statement.” Troy frowned. “The part that says,” she peered down at the report she was holding, ‘I don’t remember. I think I was drugged.’ That’s not one hundred percent true?” “No.” Troy positioned his arm back onto the pink pillow, the movement automatic. “You remember everything, don’t you?” She looked at him, her eyes filled with compassion.

Troy turned his head toward the wall. Talking was easier if he didn’t see her eyes. “I remember every last cut, darlin’, every one of them. I remember the car ride. I remember how long I hung by my wrists. I counted the seconds.” Her hand captured his, and his head swung back. He stared at their joined hands. “Tell me, Troy, tell me about it all. Start from the beginning. Okay?” Her hand tightened on his. “Okay, Jo.” He told her of his nightmare.

Chapter Five “Troy.” “Yep.” He dropped the weight and braced his hand against the wall. Jo sucked in a breath. She had introduced him to the exercise room first thing that morning. He’d complained—whined was a better term—about lying in bed. She knew how antsy the children could get. She imagined the inactivity made Troy feel like a prisoner all over again. Plus, used to action, he had been out of commission for almost a month. Not only out of commission but physically handicapped. It would drive her to drink. She thought back to the time when the police removed her from her mother’s house. She thanked God they had. She had been teetering close to the edge of self-destruction. After a failed attempt on her life when she was ten, her existence had been hell. Her mother wouldn’t let her out of her sight. Her mother was a particularly nasty prostitute, a character flaw Jo didn’t grasp until she’d been taken away. She thought all moms hit their children or locked their kids in the closets for days while they conducted business. Escape was her plan, when one of her teachers was persistent enough to get social services to pull the plug. As if fortune finally looked down kindly on her she was placed in a good foster care family, unlike many other children. Now her path in life was formed from the scars on her skin and in her heart. They made her who she was. She had accepted her course long ago. After years of counseling and a supportive foster family, she was able to move past the abuse and be productive. Unlike many other children who ended up lost in the system. She shook her head, shaking off the memories. Troy’s shirt was off, a sheen of sweat glistened on his skin. Despite the marks covering his upper body, he was a striking man. Broad shoulders, lean hips, and long legs. His dark olive skin looked touchable. Jo licked her lips, trying not to picture her tongue sliding over a particularly fine looking pec muscle then dropping lower to the V of his shorts and the swirl of hair that started down. Clearing her throat, she held up a jar of Vitamin E with aloe cream. “I’ve got something for those scars. Should help them heal faster with less scaring.” He motioned her forward. “Bring it on, babe.” She huffed at his new pet term for her and grabbed his shoulder to turn him around. “You’re pushing it, Vinstonie.” She dabbed the cream over several of the scars on his back. “I’m not your babe, nor will I ever be.” She pivoted him back, then hesitated. It was one thing to apply this stuff to his back and another to do it while he watched. He chuckled, and reached forward to draw a line on her brows, which furrowed in annoyance. Then he raised his arm, nodding at the cast. “Can’t do much with my hand. I’m a righty.” Jo begin to apply the cream to the cuts on his chest. Touching him was a heady experience. His skin was rough, yet smooth, covered with a sheen of dark hair. Her fingers glided over the uneven textures of his scars. He watched her fingers, his eyes following her every movement. She inhaled slowly, sucking in his scent, sweat mixed

with a unique male aroma, which seemed his alone. For the first time in her life, a man’s smell made her nostrils flare with arousal. I need to get ahold of myself. A relationship with this man could end my career. She dipped her finger into the cream. Tracing the lines around the brand, she studied it. She saw a combination of letters, maybe an A hooked into a G. Something about the mark tickled the back of her mind. Swirling her fingers around it, she concentrated. What was it? Focused on searching her brain for the answer, she didn’t notice Troy’s head dipping down until his lips claimed hers. Then she realized his heart was pounding against her fingers. She made a noise, somewhere between a protest and a moan. But she didn’t try to pull away, even though she knew she should. His lips felt too good. He kissed her gently, slowly, nipping, as if he was sampling her, letting her protest if she was up to it. His lips lifted a fraction of an inch. She took a deep breath. “Do you know—?” He kissed her again. She pushed out the rest of the sentence with his lips on hers. “How much trouble I can get into doing this?” Instead of answering, his arm folded around her back and he swept her close. He took, then. His tongue entered her mouth and he played as if he was dancing. She danced back, tangoing her tongue with his and enjoying it. On her own volition, she lifted onto her toes and leaned into his hard, muscular chest, his erection pushed against her stomach. Her hand fell to his heart. It hammered so hard, she thought it would burst out of his chest. She tangled her hands in the silk of his hair and gave herself to the kiss. The kiss went on and on. As they breathed each other’s breaths, neither seemed able to end their sensual mating. She tried to draw away once, and his mouth chased her down. She sunk back in. She teased the back of his neck with her fingers, brushing her hands down his shoulders to his arm. Exploring the veined definition, she let her hand trail down his skin. She shivered, sighed and wished she could slap some sense into herself. He feasted on her with his mouth, his lips trailing over her face, the line of her cheek, resting at her neck. Her head fell back, giving him better access. When he accepted her invitation and sucked, the reality of what she was doing hit her. She cried out, unwrapped her arms from around him, and jumped back. For an instant, he froze. Slowly he straightened and leaned back against the wall, obviously not embarrassed at all that his cock was tenting his shorts. Jo wished she had that kind of support. Her knees felt like they were made of rubber bands, and she was one kiss away from melting at his feet. He didn’t say anything. His lips were wet, his hair mussed. He looked so sexy she wanted to jump on him and finish what he had started. He tried to cross his arms, with little success. Finally he huffed out a sigh, leaned over, picked up the metal weight like it was a paperweight and returned it to her workout rack. He grabbed his shirt and after one final glance he left the room. “We need to go to the office for that three p.m. meeting,” she yelled after him. “Fine,” he answered. Man, how awkward, was her final thought. ****

Jo’s agents packed into the fugitive office. Evidence and notes littered the desks, chairs, and every possible space. She had already been on the phone for an hour with the North Carolina and Idaho agents. The hypothesis was the same—nothing, they had nothing. “Okay, guys, what do we know?” She perched on the edge of her desk, facing the group. Jim was at the storyboard, taking notes. A time line with key occurrences, times and dates posted on the board. “Troy was abducted from the hotel at two a.m.,” she said as Jim pointed to the entry. “How long did it take to drive to the first car?” Sitting at Jim’s desk, Troy stared at the board, completely absorbed in their timeline. “I’d say about thirty minutes.” Jim made the notation on the board, then drew a line to the box labeled ‘second car’. “Who checked on this?” Jo called out. Lion raised his hand. “They found the first car about thirty miles away. They processed it for evidence and got nothing. Common hair, no unique fibers, no DNA, nada, and no tire prints from the switch car. To make a long story short, they got shit.” He threw a folder down on the desk in disgust. “How long in the second car?” Jo asked. Troy dropped his head into his hands. Jo felt sorry for him and his fatigue. They drilled down his story for most of the day and into the night and back around to the next morning. Multiple times they had gone over Troy’s details. Searching for something, anything. They were all bleary-eyed, tired, and grumpy. It was the same story. They had a whole shit load of nothing. “Umm.” He ran a hand through his dark hair, a sure sign of his fatigue. “It’s hard to say, seems like days. Hot in the trunk of a car in the summer.” Jo laid a hand on his shoulder and patted it. “You’re doing great. Stay with us.” She squeezed his shoulder. Glancing around, she saw her guys looking at her as if her body had been taken over by an extraterrestrial. Voluntarily touching people was not her. She jerked her hand back and stuffed it in the pocket of her cargo pants. “All right, so that was the trip to Idaho, likely.” She pointed at Zeik. He’d talked to both case agents before she did. Maybe he found out something they didn’t tell her. “Whatcha got, Z?” He pushed his glasses back onto his face and gave her that sad basset hound look. He moved his head from side to side. “The case agents got nothing. No second car, no location to search. They processed the scene in Idaho where Troy was found, but no evidence was collected.” “I can’t believe it. What the hell were they doing? How could they not find the location?” She made a mental check in her head. Check out the Idaho agents. “The note?” she asked. Lion answered. “Sent it to the lab. It’ll take a couple weeks to process. It won’t even get logged into the lab till today. They gave me the same shit about calling them when I get a court date.” Jo rolled her eyes. That was the way of it in violent crimes. Not like CSI. They were not a priority. Now if this had been a terrorism case, it would have been a whole different situation.

“Z, call in a favor, see if you can talk to that pretty blond you dated last year when you were there for training. Tell her what case it’s for. Maybe the NASCAR connection will light a fire in their pants.” Zeik smiled and nodded. Jo growled and threw up her hands. She gave a pointed glare to Sandy. He shrugged and lifted a cup of java. “I got coffee,” he said it tentatively, as if he knew it would send her over the edge. Jim worked at the board, filling in more times and events. The office fell silent. They knew. They knew what was going to happen. Jo exploded. “God damn it, guys, don’t give me this shit. I have seen you guys find a needle in a haystack. Don’t fucking tell me we have nothing. This is half-ass work on everyone’s part. Not only us, the agents in Boise and North Carolina, too. Find me something.” She stared at each of them, and their eyes widened, sitting back in their chairs as if they wanted more distance between her and them. She knew they had never seen her lose control the way she was now. Her shoulders dropped, and she ran a hand through her hair in frustration. “Sorry.” She heard a collection of exhaled sighs across the office. Then it hit her square in-between the eyes, the clue she had twirled around in her head, the one that had evaded her. Reaching around, she stalked toward Troy. “Take off your shirt.” “What?” “Take off your shirt, Troy.” He paused, then he looked into her eyes. She knew what he saw. That if he didn’t take it off himself, she’d bloody well cut him out of it. Slowly, he worked his way out of his shirt. “Stand up.” She grabbed his crutch and handed it to him. He stood, leaning on the crutch. She pointed to the brand on his chest. “Boys, take a look at this.” The agents got off their chairs, moving closer to examine the mark. “If I am not mistaken, this is a brand,” she said. Each nodded in turn. “And if I remember my trip to the family farm correctly, boys, brands have to be registered.” She wondered why she hadn’t thought about it before. She glanced at the group. “Let’s find who owns this brand.” Each one of them made eye contact with her and smiled. Now they had somewhere to start. “Go home, you guys, get a few hours sleep and get to it.” She pointed at Troy. “I’ve got to take this guy to the doctor.” **** Both Troy and Jo jumped at the sound of his cellular phone. Jo lifted her head off the back of the wall, where it had rested and tried to focus on the TV in the waiting room. They had been there an hour. Troy was supposed to get his casts off today. She couldn’t keep her eyes open. When you run an all-nighter on a case, you caught sleep where you could. And right now, it was in the waiting room of the doctor’s office. Both of them had chosen the chairs next to the wall, their heads resting on the hard surface.

Jo rubbed her neck, and rotated it. Troy appeared as tired as her. She took in one side of his sleepy-voice conversation. God, he was sexy. Even with his brown eyes redrimmed, and the back of his hair pushed up from sleeping against the wall, he looked edible. “What’s her name?” He ran his hand through his hair, then wiped the sleep from his eyes. “Shit, who’s training her?” His hand clenched. “Great. Yeah. I will. Thanks. Bye.” He flipped the phone down and sat there, looking like someone had just run over his dog. “What’s wrong?” He turned toward her. “A new sponsor brought a driver on the circuit. Most likely they’re taking advantage of my injuries.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Cass Jamison, a woman, and she’s kicking ass.” He slammed his hand on the arm of the chair. Jo winced at the loud thump. At least he’d used his good hand. “She’s got an excellent crew chief,” he went on. “Justin Steed, he was a five time NASCAR Nextel cup champion.” He shook his head. “My relief driver can’t keep up. Our points have fallen, my team is never going to take the circuit this year with those odds.” Jo laid her hand over his, trying to comfort him. She didn’t know why she had an insatiable need to touch him. It was so unlike her. Besides the children she cared for, she never let herself get close to anyone. Not since she left her mom’s house. For some reason, with him it seemed different. Ever since they had bared their scars, something had changed between them. And Jo wasn’t sure it was good. He stared at their hands. Then he slowly turned his over and folded her hand in his, palm to palm. It was a sweet, yet strange sensation, holding hands “It will be okay,” she said, her voice shaky. “You’re young and strong. You’ll recover just fine. Don’t worry.” He smiled. “Strong, huh, and young.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “All the better to eat you up, li’l Red Riding Hood.” Jo rolled her eyes, then she smiled. He reached forward and pushed a finger at her cheek. “What is this? A dimple from a smile? From the tough FBI Agent.” She batted his hand away and glanced around the waiting room at the people staring at them. “Stop it.” He scooted closer and dipped his head. “What?” He poked her side, in her tickle spot, and she jerked with a little screech. He poked her again. “What, ticklish here?” She couldn’t stop herself. He was acting like a juvenile, but she laughed anyway. “Oh a laugh. Amazing. I didn’t think FBI agents could laugh.” He reached down and really started to tickle her. “Troy, stop it.” She pushed his hand away. He was flirting with her. She wasn’t sure how to deal with it. She had never flirted with a man before, but she was enjoying herself. He stopped teasing her and smiled. Then his face grew serious, and he traced the dimple in her cheek. “You are so beautiful.” Jo looked away at a print of a rose garden. “Sheesh.”

He put a finger under her chin and turned her head back. He traced her lips with his thumb. “I’m not kidding. You’re beautiful.” She smiled and shook her head. “Aren’t you on drugs…” She stopped, spotting an adolescent boy coming out of the door leading to the exam rooms. “Agent Jo?” The kid grinned at her. “Steve.” She patted the seat next to her and he plopped down. She immediately picked up his hand and began to examine it. Broken last year. A cute thirteen-year-old, he had come to her house after a nasty beating, giving him time to recover before transferring to foster care but he had never left the center. Now, he ruled it. A great kid. “How’s the hand?” She ran her fingers over it, gently massaging. “It’s good. Hey, you haven’t been to the center in a week.” Jo smiled and let him tug his hand from her grip. He was at that age where he was embarrassed by female attention. Especially mothering. “I’ll be in. Been working. You know how it is.” She jerked her head toward Troy. Steve glanced over, smiled and waved. “Hey.” “Hey, yourself,” Troy said. Steve waved his finger at Troy. “Hey, don’t I know you, man? Aren’t you that NASCAR driver? Yeah, yeah. Cool, man. Can I get tickets or something?” He gave Troy a thumbs up. Troy laughed. “Sure, I’ll get something to Jo.” “Cool, got to go. Jo, I’ll see you at the center, right?” She smiled and waved. “Yeah, you’ll see me. Stay out of trouble.” Her smile died when he left. “One of the abused children you’ve cared for?” Jo shifted her gaze back to Troy. “Yeah, last year. His mother is a downtown prostitute. One of her Johns didn’t like her having a kid around.” Jo shook her head. Memories assaulted her. She remembered hiding every time her mother came stumbling up to the apartment door with a trick. She could hear the laughing, the lowered voice of the man with her mother. The minute she heard the male voice, she would head toward the vent crawl space. A great place to hide. Of course then she had to listen to the play of her mother all night. The thoughts made her shiver. Too tired to draw herself back from the memories. “Where are you?” Troy voice ripped her out of her reflections. Jo shook her head. “Just remembering. He reminds me of someone.” She rested the back of her head against the wall. “He reminds you of yourself, doesn’t he?” Troy’s perception surprised her. She opened her eyes, making contact with his. She narrowed her gaze. Should she admit anything? If she did, she’d expose herself, be vulnerable, like a cat rolling onto its back to show its stomach. He linked their hands again, his thumb stoking her pulse. “Doesn’t he?” he said. Jo squeezed his hand, dropped her head back, and sighed. “Yeah, he does.” “Was your mother a prostitute? Is that where your scars come from?” She hesitated, then relaxed and decided to let him in. Maybe it was time she shared. Isn’t that what she told the hurt and maimed kids who came to her to heal? “Yeah, same story. Just another kid in a shitty system.” Her eyes closed. He stoked her jaw. “There is never just another kid in a situation like that.”

She nodded and tried to relax, hoping that her fatigue would take away the memories. Tough. She heard Troy move forward, and she opened her eyes to see what he was doing. He picked up her hand, slid it behind his neck, then scooted closer, leaning in next to her. Oh no, he wasn’t going to try and kiss her in the waiting room of the doctor’s office? Was he? She lifted her head and sat up. The movement shifted her closer to him instead of away. What was wrong with her? He leaned forward and laid his cheek next to hers. She smelled him then, and inhaled through her nose deeply to get more of his scent inside her. Her heart tripped a beat, then accelerated. Her nipples tightened. She was aroused, right in the middle of the doctor’s office, with his simple touch and his honest compassion. Christ, his scent was sending her over the edge. This wasn’t good. “No one should ever have to endure what you have, Jo. Ever.” Jo sighed and let him draw her in for a hug. “Mr. Vinstonie.” They pulled apart. A nurse looked at them, amusement in her expression. “Please follow me.” Troy dropped his hands. She felt a sense of loss. “Want me to come in?” She wanted to talk to the doctor about his condition, what meds he needed, and physical therapy. Bending, she picked up his crutches and handed them to him. “Yeah, sure. Let’s hope I get rid of these today.” “One can hope.” She followed him as he crutched after the nurse. **** An hour later they were headed back to her house. Troy had talked the doctor into removing his casts and placing soft braces on his arm and one for his foot. She had a feeling he had no intention of wearing them. His head rested against the backrest of the passenger seat. He was passed out and lightly snoring. Even his snoring was cute, Jo thought with an inward groan. So sexy. She couldn’t get past this attraction she had for him, no matter how many times she told herself to stop. This fascination went beyond his dark, handsome face and ripped muscles, although in her mind that would certainly be enough. His touch ignited her, his smell aroused her, the way he moved made her want to climb on top of him and take him for the ride of his life. Glancing at him, she smiled. Wouldn’t he just love that? Treading on dangerous ground, with fault lines all around her. She parked and shut off the car. Leaning over, she cupped her hand on Troy’s shoulder. “Hey.” He jerked awake with a wide-eyed panicked expression. She felt pity for what he must be going through when he slept. “We’re here.” He reached over and opened the door. “Nice to do that without assistance.” She joined him on the walkway to her house. “You’re walking a lot better, gimpy.” He rubbed a hand though his sexy, messed up hair. “Feels good.”

He barely limped and he maneuvered well with his braces, Jo observed. She unlocked her door, opened it, and stepped aside to let him go first. “Get some rest,” she said. In the family room, she stopped at the side table with the gun safe to unload and stored her gun and holster. “What’s the plan?” He plopped on the couch. As soon as she stored her guns, Jo chose the lounger across from him, a checked blanket draped over the arm. “We’re taking a trip.” He tilted his head in question. “Where?” “Idaho.” He cringed and laid his head back against the couch back, letting out a sigh of disgust. “You up to going, slick?” “Ask me after I’ve had at least four hours of sleep,” he said, propping his foot on her coffee table. She smiled and extended the footrest of the lounger. “I’ve always wanted to see what a real potato looks like.” He chucked and shifted positions. “I’ll show you a real potato.” Jo laughed. “What a very man-like thing to say.” “Yeah, I can be that way, when I want.” Jo cuddled into the chair. Lifting the blanket, she threw it at him. He opened his eyes, grabbed the blanket and flipped onto his back, setting his damaged foot under her throw pillow. “Shut up and sleep, Vinstonie. How’s that for a woman-like thing to say” He grunted. With the last word, Jo shut her eyes and let sleep claim her.

Chapter Six Quiet yet tortured moans woke Troy. He shifted his head sideways. The room was dark. Outside, crickets happily serenaded each other. But the other sound came from Jo. He remembered seeing a lamp on the table next to the couch. Sitting straight, he reached out and flipped on the light. The sudden brightness made him blink before his eyes adjusted and he sought out Jo. She lay back in the lounge chair, her eyes closed. In her sleep, she twitched, her hand jerking. She gave another moan. He leaned forward, seeing the sheen of sweat on her face. She panted. Her hand opened, then squeezed shut. Her arm turned and jerked. She cried out. Troy slid off the couch. He crossed the few feet to the lounger, then knelt and gently picked up her hand. At his touch, she growled and fisted her hand. One by one, he unfurled her fingers, caressing each digit before going to the next. She sighed and settled, her hand curled around his. Slowly, her eyes blinked open. She saw him and stretched her legs, her hand still in his. “Wow,” she said, shuddering. “Haven’t had one of those in a long time. Flashback. Happens to trauma victims.” “Flashback. Yeah, okay that explains it.” He was wondering why he couldn’t get his brain to shut off when they occurred. Made sense now. “You’re getting them too, aren’t you?” she asked. Right now, snuggled into that lounger, she looked so cute. He couldn’t resist. “Oh yeah, I’m getting them.” He was getting them all right, and he didn’t want to talk about it. He stood. Leaning over, he fitted his arms under her. “Hey.” Ignoring her protest, he lifted her into his arms. “Troy, watch your arm.” “You don’t weigh anything, woman. Relax, will ya?” It felt good to use his limbs. He did extensive physical therapy with his casts to keep his muscles from atrophying. Being a racecar driver, he had an incredible tolerance for pain and was tired of inactivity. Besides, she was small and didn’t weigh much. It was amazing, the job she was in. It must take incredible physical stamina to fight violent criminals. Settling back on the couch, he set her in his lap. She tried to struggle. He tightened his grip with his good arm. “Relax, Jo. Can’t you ever just relax?” She stopped, her arm already curved over his shoulder. Her tense muscles released and she melted into him, her head resting on his shoulder, her hair tickling his chin. It felt good, she felt good. Having her in his arms felt right. “So tell me, Agent Clarin, why did you join the FBI? It can’t be for the money or fame.” She shrugged and snuggled into him. He leaned his head against hers.

“After growing up as an abused child, I wanted to make a difference. The Violent Crimes Squad has a Crimes Against Children Unit. I wanted to be in that unit.” Shifting, she laid one hand on his chest. Her fingers played with the hair on the back of his neck. His body began to stir and heat up. Hell, heat up nothing, every waking minute he was with this woman he sported a rock hard erection. He wanted to pleasure her, to erase the ugly scars on her body with his tongue and mouth. He wanted to… He stopped himself and tried to concentrate on finding out more about her. “Soooo, how did you end up leading the fugitive squad?” He stroked her velvety soft hair, cascading it through his fingers. The straight strands had an exotic, Far-East quality to them. The color reminded him of a dark chocolate candy bar. He played with her hair, sifting it through his fingers, the strands sliding off and falling onto her shoulder with a little bounce. “I work them both. I’m really good at fugitives and we need the stats, soooo that’s where I am right now.” “Can you tell me about your life?” She hesitated. He rubbed her neck with his thumb. She sighed. “I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t abused. I thought every kid grew up the way I did.” Troy shook his head. He couldn’t imagine the life she’d had. He had a close family. Growing up Italian, his family celebrated life with food and close love. He smiled when he remembered his family. “I never knew my father,” she continued. “I think he was a John. I grew up in East LA. My mom ran away from Queens and went to Hollywood when she was a teen. Thought she was going to be a star and ended up a prostitute to earn a living.” His smile died. “She had me when she was sixteen. I definitely wasn’t wanted and she reminded me on a daily basis.” Troy hugged her tighter. “I played games with myself. When the men came over, I would reward myself for finding the best hiding place. One was always better than the next. After they left, I would wait a while, then head to the local store to steal a candy bar—my reward.” He nodded and laid his head on top of hers. It was hard for him to hear about her life, but he needed to. He wanted to know what made her tick. “Sometimes I didn’t find a good enough hiding place and I’d be punished.” She held up her arm. “She drank, a lot. Helped numb her pain, I’m sure.” “What happened to her?” he asked “She died, drug overdose. I had already been removed from the house. I never saw her again after I left, and that was fine by me.” “How did you…” He stopped. He didn’t know how to ask it. “How did I survive?” “Yeah, how did you survive, Jo?” She shrugged. “I just did. How did you survive your abuse?” He shrugged back. Her point was well taken. He never analyzed what made him fight to live. He just did. “So many years of abuse scarred me, molded me into what I am,” she said.

“And what you are is a wonderful person, full of the gift of giving and love for children that need you,” he assured her. She rubbed her cheek against his chest. He knew it to be an unconscious action on her part. Tired, her guard was down, and he hated to take advantage. But…leaning over he kissed her. The hand at the back of his neck stilled, then her fingers opened and glided into his hair. He groaned with enjoyment. Her touch, her scent, her body in his arms… He reached for his rapidly depleting restraint. He didn’t want to move too fast. She had already voiced her concern about getting involved with him; he needed to take it slow. But he was determined. Eventually he would have her. He lined her lips with his tongue, asking her to open. She did, barely. He tensed. She sighed in surrender, and he delved in. Wrapping his arms around her, he anchored her head with his hand so she wouldn’t move then he took more. She groaned. Good, she was enjoying herself. Her pleasure was his. He moaned in response. His tongue tangled with hers. Her taste was addicting. He dipped and drank from her mouth. God, he could never get enough of her. They had this connection. Even the simple act of kissing made him weak with arousal, hard and ready to take. He craved her. He needed her. Pulling back for a breath, he watched her reaction. Her wet lips glistened with that well-kissed look, her cheeks rosy, her heart pounding against his chest. His hands strayed down her back. Muscled yet soft. He slid his hands under her shirt. He needed to touch her skin. Needed to connect with her, flesh-to-flesh. “You’re incredibly beautiful,” he whispered, then leaned forward, capturing her lips, one touch after another. “I want to…” She responded to his kiss with one of her own, and he lost track of his words. Now she took, and he was stunned. She held his head and kissed, sucked and licked. She seized his lips, and sunk in. He groaned, his hands spreading on her back. She consumed him with her fire. He began to sweat, his breath panting as he tried to keep up with her. Her lips left his and strayed down his face, his jaw, stopping at his neck. She sucked hard and fast. He arched in pleasure, his hips thrust forward, his cock pleading for relief. Oh God. He lost his concentration. He heard an annoying disturbance, a ringing. Was it in his head because he had completely lost control? Ready to strip off all her clothes and take her deep, right there on the couch. Then she lifted her head from his neck, a rosy hue on her face. He wanted to see if the color spread over her entire body. She began looking around, then she spotted it. That damn cell phone. He grunted when she climbed off him. Okay, when had she straddled his body? He shook his head and ran a hand over his face. That phone was his enemy. The second time it had kept him from what was his. He wanted to throw it out the window. For the first time in his life, he had his perfect woman right where he wanted her. Hell. He fingered his neck. It throbbed, and he was sure she left a hickey. He glanced at her. She was up, pacing, re-focused from his lovemaking to her job. Damn. “What type of gun oil? Uh huh. We’ll never trace it, too common. Although an interesting fact, useless… find more, dig deeper.”

Troy reached forward and removed his leg brace. He had no intention of wearing the annoying piece of metal. He tossed it aside and lay back on the couch. Positioning the small pillow under his neck, he propped up his head, settled in and watched. “That’s not going to be helpful. Lion, get me more,” she barked, then she smiled. On the couch, he felt something he hadn’t felt since before the kidnapping. Happiness. Man, when she smiled, that dimple came out, turning a rough FBI agent into a teddy bear right in front of his eyes. “Kiss her for me. No, no. Lion—Hi, honey.” She switched voices mid sentence. From the tough agent, to the caring woman. Troy loved this part of her character. She tried to be all rough and tough on the outside, but inside he discovered a deep, caring being. Her tragic childhood had formed her into a person driven to make a difference. His heart clenched with the realization he was half in love with her already. Even, in the short time he’d known her. What an incredible and rare woman. He had no doubt she would readily sacrifice her life for the good of anyone she was protecting. That revelation made his insides quake with fear for her. “Yes, baby, Daddy is really busy. Yes. I know. I will, I’ll come and see you soon, honey. Let me talk to Daddy again.” Her voice hardened, and Troy knew she talked to Lion again. “I don’t know how such a lug like you created such a sweet, beautiful little girl like that.” She paused listening. “Yes that’s true, your wife does hold all the redeeming qualities out of the two of you.” “Right. Okay. I want you to coordinate things here. I’m taking the boys to Idaho.” She raised her hand as if he was in front of her. “I know I’m not hearing this insubordination from you. Right?” Leaning down, she grabbed a candy from the jar on the table, unwrapped it, and carelessly tossed it in her mouth. He liked the way she moved, strict and precise, always in control. She never wasted energy. When that control wavered earlier, he had loved it. Once she’d warmed up, she had attacked him with a fury. Making love with her would be an incredible ride. When she turned to pace, he reached down and adjusted himself, hard and straining against his jeans. Just listening to her talk on the phone aroused him, so pathetic. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like when they finally came together. Now he fit her male stereotype image because all he could think about was he wanted to make love to her. To be honest with himself, he admitted that’s all he had thought about from the first moment she walked into her supervisor’s office and talked to him. That sexy voice, her hard body wrapped in her bulletproof vest. In that moment, he had an image that if voiced, would have gotten his face slapped. It involved the cuffs she’d been wearing, a bed, his tongue licking her dripping heat, and testing the limits of an uptight female FBI agent. He smiled. Fantasy was the best place those thoughts needed to stay. “Okay. Bye.” She hung up, and dialed another number. “Jim, how’s it hanging?” She sucked the candy for a minute, then crunched it up, too impatient to suck it. Interesting, Troy thought. Anticipating her next move, he reached for the candy jar, slipped it next to him so she couldn’t easily reach it, and unwrapped another piece.

“Yeah, I seriously doubt that, dude.” She liked to tease her men. He realized at yesterday’s meeting, although she kept an edgy attitude, she would die for them, if need be. “We’re leaving in…” She looked at her watch. “…six hours.” Her gaze slid to the table where the candy should have been, and her brow furrowed. Then her eyes met his. Holding up an unwrapped piece, he beckoned her forward by waving it back and forth. She glared at him, then got up and stalked toward him. When she reached for the candy, he held it away. They began a game of catch-the-candy. “We’re going to Idaho. I’m leaving Lion here to mind the shop. Get the boys together. We’ll meet you in the office at four a.m. Call the newbie and have him arrange our travel.” Troy held the candy in front of his face and smiled. He slowly placed it in-between his teeth and wiggled his eyebrows. Her lips peeled back, she bared her teeth and reached for the jar. He grabbed it first, hugging it to his body. She tried to pry his fingers off the jar, but he wouldn’t budge. “What? Nothing. What?” She reached forward, found a particularly ticklish spot on his side and dug in. He jerked and tried to keep his grip on the jar. She returned the favor from his antics yesterday at the doctor’s office. Damn, she didn’t play fair. He loved this playful side of her, that’s why he had teased her yesterday. The jar started to slip, and he tightened his grasp. “He’s fine. Sleeping right now.” She almost lost the phone when he tried to grab her. She danced back, flipped the phone to the other ear, and came back in. He laughed. She stopped and placed a finger to her mouth to indicate silence. “Yeah, he’s cool. He got the casts off yesterday.” She rolled her eyes and her fingers found a vulnerable place on his other side. He captured her hand under his hip and leaned on it. Caught. “Oh please, shut up.” She tried to tug her hand out from under him. It wasn’t happening. “This conversation is over. See you at four a.m. Bye.” She tried to sound firm but Troy heard the affection in her voice. She hung up the phone and focused on him. He gave her his cat-that-ate-the-mouse grin, displaying the candy between his teeth. She launched on top of him. Turning the tables, he flipped so she lay under him. She looked shocked, as if a wolf had bitten her. He appreciated all the sweat and agony from his eight weeks of working out while waiting to get those damn casts off. He was still quick and agile—in all the ways that counted. He leaned over her, his hair falling into her face. He didn’t correct the situation, it would mean releasing her and she was a fighter. “You want this?” he tried to say the sentence like a challenge, and it came out mumbled. Her expression became serious. She reached up and caressed his jaw with the tips of her fingers. His cock hardened, his breath quickened. He gave up teasing her. Leaning down, he closed his lips over hers in an openmouthed kiss that took his breath away. Then he pushed the candy into her mouth. With his tongue, he stroked the butterscotch, lapping it and kissing her at the same time. She inhaled, her arms slipping around his back, cradling him against her body. She took the candy and returned his kiss. He groaned. Then it started again, the ringing. He raised his head, turned and stared at the annoying nuisance. He growled.

“I’m going to chuck that damn thing in the garbage,” he said when she pressed her hands against his chest. Reluctantly he pushed up and let her retrieve the phone. That thing really put a crimp in his love life. “Clarin.” She scooted out from under him and went back to the lounger. “Yeah, all of us. Have them surround Troy. Yes. Yep. Newbie, this isn’t rocket science, book the damn flight. All right. Bye.” She hung up and looked at him. She chewed the candy, crunching, her jaw clenched. “Can’t you turn that thing off?” he asked. She shook her head. “You know I can’t. This is my job.” He nodded, laying his head on the pillow. “Troy.” He raised his head. He knew what she was going to say before the words left her mouth. “This attraction we seem to hold for each other is dangerous.” He flopped back down. Yep, what he’d thought. And for once he wanted to be wrong. “My job requires me to protect you. Having a relationship like this,” she waved her hand back and forth, “is distracting and totally unprofessional. If anybody found out…” The FBI agent is back, he thought. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore her. He heard her sit down on the table in front of him. “You can’t ignore what I’m telling you.” Sliding his eyes open, he regarded her. Soooo beautiful, even with her worried brow and tough exterior. He wanted to unpeel every complicated layer she’d grown to protect and get literally, to her soft belly. “I thought I was doing a pretty good job of it.” He crossed his arms and closed his eyes. He felt a tug on his ear. “Yes?” He opened his eyes and gave her what the guys in the pit crew called his shiteating grin. She shook her head in obvious exasperation. With a snarl, she got up. “I’m going to take a shower. Catch a little more sleep. I’ll wake you when it’s time to get ready to leave.” “I can help you with that—the shower that is.” She turned and pointed to him. “You will not. You keep those sexy hands to yourself.” He held up his hands. “Sexy, huh?” “Forget it,” she said, then stomped out of the room. He smiled. He would get through her defenses, one way or another.

Chapter Seven “How’s your foot?” Troy gave one last look at the weather outside the plane window and turned to Jo. Besides Jo, Zeik and Sandy sat behind him and Jim in front of him. The plane was full, and he wondered how many people got bumped because of them. People had gawked when they rushed him through security, flanking him on both sides, as if they were transporting a prisoner. He hated the way it made him feel. Vulnerable. As if he were still in danger. As for going back to Idaho, he tried not to think about it. But the dark memories snuck up on him when he least expected them. “It’s good.” He shifted his foot from left to right. Felt sore and a little weak, but healing well. “You going to make it though this okay?” He knew she had concerns about how he would react to returning to the ‘scene of the crime’. Heck, he didn’t even know how he felt. There was no way he would admit he was scared. He didn’t want to seem like a wimp, but if he thought about it too much, he started to feel a chain wrapping around his neck and choking him. He knew how to protect himself, but he was out of his depth with vicious criminals. He was a racecar driver from North Carolina, not a Federal Agent from the most dangerous city on the West Coast. Jo seemed so relaxed, another day on the job for her. She amazed him. “It’s all good.” He managed to smile, resting his hand on hers. “Would you mind if we went over a few things?” she asked. “Nah, let’s do it.” She flipped to another page from the folder in front of her. Her hair fell into her face. He reached up and ran a finger down her cheek tangling it in her hair. He loved to touch her, to feel her softness against his fingers. She glanced at him, scowled, and continued reading. They hadn’t discussed the halt she had placed on their ‘relationship’. He realized she didn’t want her men to even smell something going on between them. But right now, her men were absorbed and out of visual range. So he worked on chinking the armor she wore, touching her every chance he got. “How did you get out of that barn?” she asked. Troy closed his eyes and thought back. It was so hard to remember the details of his escape. They had drugged him early on, shooting fluid into his arm every three to four hours. Everything was a blur, as if it all happened in slow motion. “One of them was worried I was dead. I remember hearing them screaming at each other, a man and a woman. She was saying torturing and killing me wasn’t part of the plan. I was in a bad place, had lost a lot of blood. They had me hanging by my arms. I was in some sort of loft, pretty high up. I could smell the hay. My arm”—he held up his right arm…”had been broken early on. After a while, it quit hurting. I couldn’t feel either of my arms. That worried me. I tried to slow my breathing and kept falling in and out of consciousness. I heard them yelling at each other.” He ran his hand through his hair, reflecting back to that day. “I think the man left. At one point, the girl unchained me. I remember my legs hitting the ground. At first I

collapsed. She injected me with more drugs and left me there, a heap on the ground. She said something like, ‘You’re about dead anyway, so guess it don’t matter where you die.’ She was coldhearted. Those people were killers.” Jo folded his hand into hers. He continued, “A couple hours later, I woke up and I was alone. I could hear the girl, down in the barn. There were a couple other guys, I think they were having some sort of group sex, music playing, lots of noise, groaning. Who knows, and I didn’t care. All I knew was this was my chance to get the hell out of there. I felt stronger, so I started searching for an escape. It’s all a blur, hard to remember—the drugs.” He dropped his head. Jo stroked his jaw, her touch comforting him. “It’s okay, take it slow.” Nodding, he concentrated. “I saw a light coming into the loft. I think it was an opening in the barn, maybe where they bring in the hay. I’d have to see it again to know what it was. All I know is, that light was my salvation. I just…just…jumped into the light and started falling. The minute I hit the ground, I knew I broke my foot. It didn’t matter. I couldn’t feel anything. I had to be quiet, had to get away. I started running, dragging my foot behind me. I had to be quiet. I could hear the music, it was loud, they couldn’t have heard me. I ran, kept going and going.” His voice roughened, and he held up his hand. “Shit, Jo, that’s all I can remember. I have incredible stamina, have to for my job. We sit in those cars for hours, sometimes injured. Who knows how far I made it?” He laid his head back. “I’m so fucking angry. I can’t tell you how angry I am. If I could kill someone for this, I would—without hesitation. When I got that note, you know what I thought…” He met her concerned blue gaze. He had her full attention. She was so strong, sitting next to him and absorbing every one of his words without flinching. She was his anchor. “I thought, good, bring it fucking on, you bastards, let’s go. I want them to come after me… I want to kill every one of them. I want retribution.” “Is that when you bought the gun?” She rubbed his arm, her fingers trailing up and down. Her touch made him want more. Concentrating on her question, he frowned. This was the first mention she’d made of the gun. He wore it in a holster at his ankle. She didn’t know it; no one did. They bypassed security because he was with four FBI agents. He realized they could arrest him for carrying a gun on a plane, but he didn’t care. This time he was ready to fight back. Instead of answering, he turned and looked at the wisps of clouds out the window. “Troy.” He glanced back at her. “I understand your anger. Of all people, I understand. I would by no means take away your ability to protect yourself. Just be careful with that gun, okay? You know how to use it, right?” Capturing her hand, he laid it on his stomach and settled back to take a nap. “I’m not even going to answer that.” She smiled and rubbed her thumb against his wrist. “Just be careful, okay?” “Don’t worry. You worry too much.” She raised a single brow and went back to reading. Sometimes Troy wondered if she was an android, but when he held her in his arms, the robot theory shredded. He fingered the hickey at his neck and smiled. Oh no, she wasn’t a robot.

**** They landed within the hour. Two rental cars later they were on their way. Jo split up the group. Zeik and Jim were off to keep an appointment with the Idaho State Brand inspector. The man was a database of knowledge of all the cattle brands in the state. Sandy stayed with them and Jo drove the three of them to the local FBI office. With a flip of her badge, Jo had them all waiting in a Bureau conference room. The room was very stoic. A huge gold FBI badge adorned the wall and with words Fidelity, Bravery, Integrity in big black letters over the top. Troy had never seen anything like it. A sloppy man with greasy, slicked back overlong hair, protruding belly and food stains on the front of his shirt entered the conference room. If Troy ever wanted a picture in his mind of what a gangster goon looked like, it would be this man. Jo accepted his business card. Troy recognized Agent Sy Raleigh. He had seen him in the hospital. He didn’t like him then, he liked him even less now. Raleigh shook Jo’s hand. “Agent Clarin.” “Agent Raleigh, I’ve been assigned to take over this case.” The man bristled and threw a folder on the table. He slumped into a chair, leaned back, and gave Jo an appraising glance up and down her body. He plopped his feet on the pristine polished wood conference room table. Troy felt the heat rising to his face. Hell if he was going to sit back and watch this man eye Jo like she was dinner. “It’s all yours, Jo, if I may call you that.” Troy was just about to jump up and punch the guy when Jo whipped Raleigh’s feet off the table and stood, her spine rigid. “No, you may not call me Jo. Agent Raleigh, your sloppy field investigation on this case is atrocious. You’ve got no location, no witness interviews, no on scene evidence processing. Hell, you didn’t even interview the State Brand Inspector. I don’t know whose pocket you’re in, but you better give them a call because you’re going down hard.” The man sputtered, spitting when he spoke. “Who the hell do you think you are, lady?” “I think,” Jo picked up his file and shuffled Troy and Sandy out the door, “that I’m your worst nightmare.” They slammed out of the office, Troy inwardly applauding her award winning performance. “So, did we just show our hand?” he asked as they headed for the elevator. She didn’t answer. They rode down the elevator, walked out of the building and slid into the car in silence. Then she chucked. “If my instincts are correct, what we did was stir up the hornets’ nest. Raleigh smelled guilty, was way too obvious. He’s involved in this, I’m sure of it. I’m not sure why or how. He had way too many holes in that investigation. Jack recognized it right away, that’s why he told me to work as if undercover. We might have found our Bureau leak.” She flipped out her phone and placed a call. “Z, you get that line into OPR?” She started the car and backed around the corner from the front door to the FBI office. It was a good position to observe without being obvious.

“Sandy, keep an eye on that door and see if that weasel comes out.” “Right, Boss.” “Great. Z, have them run his cell and office numbers for calls made in the next thirty minutes. Here’s his numbers.” She read the numbers off the card, then flipped it over. “Here’s his cell. Let’s locate that hive. Have them check his finances for the last three months. See if we have any unusual deposits. He’s a little too stupid to hide anything deep. I don’t think he’s our guy, but he might lead us to something bigger.” She ran her hands together, like she was greedily counting a batch of bills. “Ah, I love it when a plan comes together.” “Cool, thanks. Call me when you get the info. Let me talk to Jim.” “Anything on location from the Brand inspector?” She pulled out a paper pad and started jotting down addresses. “Which is the closest to that?” She circled a location and drew a star next to it. “How about the brand?” She began doodling on the pad, sketching the face of the devil. “Hmm, strange, good to know. How far was the Museum to where Troy was found?” She wrote down ten miles. “Any evidence at the Museum? Prints, anything?” “Hmm, okay. I want you to finish with him and come our way. We’re going to watch for Raleigh, see if he goes anywhere. Come take our place, then we’ll head to the possible barn locations.” She hung up, and slumped down. “Settle in, boys, now we wait, watch and learn. This is the best part of an FBI Agent’s life. Surveillance.”

Chapter Eight They arrived at Route Five, where Troy had been found. Jo slowed on the long country road. She steered to the shoulder. Jim and Zeik were back in Boise FBI office keeping an eye on Raleigh’s next move. Glancing at Troy, Jo saw the tension gathering in his face, the tensed jaw and shadowed eyes. Memories had a way of grabbing a hold and not letting go. She knew. She had experienced the same emotions. She hated to take him back to the scene of his torture, but it was necessary. Maybe once they found the bastards who did that to him, he’d find a sense of peace. They exited the car. “Can you show me where you were found?” she asked. He pivoted in a circle. He ran a hand through his dark hair. She recognized his action—fatigue and frustration, his two companions. He walked down the shoulder, seeking what she knew he would eventually find. Finally, he came to a deep indentation in the ground, a ditch would be a better word. “Here.” His hand ran through his hair again. She turned toward Sandy. “Canvass the surrounding area. I’m sure there’s nothing, but just in case.” With his typical nod, he was off, headed toward the woods. She loved him. So new, he followed her orders without question. He had been a good Marine, but an even better FBI agent. Troy stared at the dirt, remembering. Jo set her hand on his shoulder. He jerked at her touch. “How much do you remember?” Kneeling, he ran his hand through the dirt. “Not much. It was all a blur when I got here. I was running on instinct. I remember coming through the trees.” He pointed to the green grove next to the road. “It was cold. I couldn’t really feel it, but I knew it was cold. It seemed strange. My nose was bleeding, it irritated me.” He whipped his hand below his nose, as if it still bled. “I tried to reach the road, but I couldn’t…” He stood and shoved his hand in his pockets. “I couldn’t take another step. After that, I think I passed out.” He began looking around. “You did good.” He shrugged. “I think I came from this direction.” He began retracing his path. She followed. “I remember this tree.” He leaned a hand against it and stroked it. “I remember having to lean against it.” He stopped and leaned his head against the tree. Then his hand slammed into the bark. “God damn it, I hate the weakness these memories bring. It’s like this whole thing has stolen my identity. It fucking makes me sick. When they were torturing me, I would’ve done anything to make them stop, anything. I wasn’t strong. After a while, I begged them to stop. I thought I was stronger than that. There was a point when I had no courage left to fight. I gave in.” He pounded his hand against the bark. Jo stepped forward and drew him away from the tree. She smelled his anger. She knew exactly how he felt. She pushed her body against his, letting him lean back against the tree.

“You did what you had to do to live. You are a fighter. There’s a point where, physically, your instinct for survival kicks in. It’s the fight or flight theory. Your body knew you couldn’t win, so it told your brain what you needed to do to survive. That’s what courage is. Surviving.” He shook his head. “Troy, look at me.” His light brown eyes met hers. She saw the doubt in the depth of his expression. She slid back the sleeve of her shirt to show him her burn marks. “See these burns?” He nodded and lifted his finger to trace the scars. “I didn’t fight my mom’s boyfriend when he did this. I sat there and let him burn me again and again. I didn’t fight. He was so much bigger than me, and he kept telling me if I didn’t let him burn me, he would kill me. I sat there and let him put a half dozen permanent burn marks on my arms. I was eight years old. I let him do it because he threatened to kill me if I didn’t.” She shoved her sleeve down and laid her hands against his chest. “Courage is not fighting when you know you can’t win. It’s doing what you need to do to survive, to live. They didn’t steal any part of you, Troy. What lies in here,” she tapped his heart, “will never be theirs, it will always be within your control. You couldn’t fight physically, but you sure as hell lived. And that’s the greatest win of all.” She leaned forward and gently kissed him. His hand reached up and caressed her cheek. It was a sweet snapshot in time. She felt closer to him in that moment than with any person in her life. What they shared, the memories of their abuse, transcended the bonds formed between normal people. “Thanks.” He kissed her back gently. She smiled against his lips. “Let’s go find that barn, okay?” “Yeah, okay.” She yelled for Sandy and headed back to the car. “What did you find out about the brand?” Troy asked as they walked to the car. “That brand that now adorns your body is a one-hundred-year-old relic. Stolen from the Gem County Museum. Not far from here.” He stopped and looked at her. “No shit? What the hell?” “I don’t know, very strange. The only thing stolen was the brand, no prints found. Almost like the brand was their only target. They have a surveillance system, so the boys are grabbing the video. We’ll see what they‘ve got. The locals haven’t watched it. A petty theft doesn’t gain much attention. We’ll see what we can find.” “Do you think they stole that brand to use on me?” She nodded. “Yeah, I think maybe they did. Hard to say.” He kept walking. They both got into the car. His jaw clenched. Sandy jumped in the back. “Nothing around here, Boss.” She acknowledged him and started the car. “Bastards,” Troy said as he rubbed his hand over his chest, almost as if he were reliving the branding. Jo pulled back onto the highway. “I’ve got a couple locations to check. Ready to go?” “Yeah, let’s do it.” He had a determined expression on his face.

**** In a little over an hour, they reached the first barn. Troy recognized the area immediately so she parked out of view of the barn. Troy sat next to her, in quiet contemplation, likely reliving the events. She turned toward Sandy. Things looked calm. Still, she wasn’t taking any chances. “Let’s go clear it, kid. You ready?” He nodded, and she said, “Get our gear.” He slipped out the side and went around to the back while Jo popped the trunk. “Troy.” He shifted his gaze to her. “Stay here for a few minutes, we’re going to clear the building. Okay?” He nodded and turned forward again. She got on her phone and connected with Jim. “Jim, Sandy and I are going to clear this first barn you gave us the address for. Turn to group talk thirty.” “Roger that. Stay safe, dude.” Jo smiled and acknowledged his warning. She slid out of the driver’s seat and went around to Troy’s side of the car. Opening his door, she handed him the car keys. “If we’re not back within twenty minutes, call 911. Got it?” “Yeah, I could go with you, you know. I have protection.” He pointed to his ankle. Jo squatted down to talk to him out of the view of Sandy. “I know you could. Sandy and I are a team. Throwing you in the mix could make things dangerous. We’ve trained in the same techniques and have worked together. We’ll get the job done. Stay here and watch our backs. Should be a snap, no worries, looks quiet in there. Okay.” He nodded. She caressed his cheek. “You are the sexiest man I have ever had the pleasure of knowing,” she said, her voice husky, needing to tell him before she went about the task of clearing the barn. She didn’t tell him how extremely dangerous it could be. Anything or anyone could be inside the harmless looking building. She had been in these situations more times than she could count. The key to conquering her fear was to not think about what needed to be done and just do it. She leaned forward and laid her lips on his. His response was immediate. Tangling his hand on the back of her head, he tilted his head, opened his mouth and invaded hers. His tongue dancing, he thrust it forward then withdrew, tasting her, teasing her. Finally, he tilted his head back and ran small kisses down her bottom lip, then finished with a gentle kiss. “Be careful.” Jo just sat there, her mouth forming an O. She couldn’t move, reliving the kiss over and over again. “If you keep your mouth open like that, I’m going to take advantage.” Jo snapped her jaw shut. “Wow.” She sighed and caressed his jaw with the back of her hand. Using a southern accent, she said, “You sure know how to kiss a lady, Rhett.” He smiled. “I aim to please.” Jo rose and rolled her head from side to side to loosen the tension in her neck. She needed to be relaxed for the task ahead. “Got to go.” She stepped around the back of the car and withdrew a large canvass duffle bag holding all of her gear. Like Sandy, she began the routine of putting on her equipment. After slipping on her bulletproof vest, she overlapped it with a blue tactical

vest with bold yellow letters saying FBI. She tugged on her shoulder holster, checked to make sure her Glock 22 was secure, the extra mags in place. She already had a baby Glock on her ankle. She pulled the guns out, pointed them in a safe direction and doublechecked to ensure they were primed and ready to go, with one in the chamber. Then she plopped a blue hat with the letters FBI on her head. Reaching into her bag, she grabbed her MP-5 assault rifle and again went through the procedure of priming it with one in the chamber. Hooking up a headset to her phone, she secured it to her waist and tested the walkie-talkie function on group, connecting her to her team. “Test one, two, come back.” Jo said into the microphone. “Jim, got you, five by five.” “Zeik, five by.” “Sandy, five by five.” Jo nodded at Sandy. “Ready?” He nodded back “Okay, kid, like in training at the Academy, remember? Watch for my hand signals, keep chatter to a minimum, and call out your clears. We go in to together.” He nodded. “Okay, let’s go.” Pointing her rifle in a safe direction, she gave a hand signal to Sandy to keep behind her, and she jogged toward the barn. Everything appeared deserted. She moved closer, using the trees for cover, then signaled for Sandy. Running to the corner of the barn, she made a stop signal to Sandy. He hung back at the trees. She did a quick peek into the barn. Looked clear, nothing. She raised her gun to the ready position and gave the required warning. “This is the FBI. I am armed. If there is anyone in this barn, come out now!” All she heard was silence. She signaled to Sandy. He ran to the other side of the open door. She held up her hand, raising her fingers, indicating they would enter on three. He nodded. She raised her fingers: one, two, three. On her count, they both entered the barn, screaming, “FBI, FBI!” Jo went to the right, Sandy to the left. “Clear,” she yelled to the right flank as she moved down the barn. “Clear.” Sandy yelled to the left. They cleared the bottom of the barn. Jo made eye contact with Sandy. She motioned they would proceed up the loft with her in first position. Holding up her hand, she gave the signal. As she climbed, her gun ready, Sandy covered her from below. “FBI,” she yelled as she scrambled up the ladder. Rising to the top, she gave another quick peek, saw nothing, and proceeded to the top, her gun ready, alerted to any danger. She cleared the loft and yelled to Sandy, “We’re all clear.” Relaxing, she glanced around the loft. What she saw almost made her sick. Hanging from the gables were two chains with two more secured to the loft floor. Proof this had been Troy’s prison. She approached slowly, careful not to disturb anything, in case there was any trace evidence to be gathered. Sandy came up the ladder, climbing onto the loft floor. “Careful,” she warned him as she paced toward the chains. Slowly, she knelt down. Below the chains was blood, so much blood. She held a hand to her stomach. “Oh, my God.” Sandy squatted down next to her. His eyes met hers. “God, Jo, is that his blood?” He turned and examined the area.

“Yeah, I think it is.” Jo wiped the sweat from her brow and tried to keep from throwing up. Sitting next to the bloodied hay were several instruments, a knife, some sort of crowbar, a sword of some sort. “God.” Jo let her legs collapse and sat Indian style. Sandy joined her. “No shit.” Jo fingered her phone. “Zeik and Jim, we’re clear here. We need the Evidence Recovery Team in here ASAP. Jim, get the Agent in Charge and make the request. Zeik get the warrant going, now. I definitely found where Troy was held.” “Roger, we’re on it.” A noise from below alerted them. They were instantly up, weapons ready. “Hey, you guys okay?” Troy called. Jo signaled to Sandy. They lowered their weapons. “Troy, stay there.” Jo didn’t want him to see this. “Is it safe in here?” “Yeah, we’re clear.” Jo flipped the safety of her weapon back on. “I’m coming up.” “No!” Both her and Sandy yelled it at the same time, but she heard him climb up the ladder. Foolish, stubborn man. “Shit.” Sandy took the word right out of her mouth. She stepped forward and grabbed Troy’s outstretched hand as he stepped onto the loft. Although Sandy was there, she kept Troy’s hand in hers. She glanced over at Sandy. “Go coordinate the ERT Team.” His eyes went to their connected hands. He nodded and climbed out of the loft. “Troy…” Ignoring her, he walked toward the chains. She tugged him to a stop. “Don’t go any closer. We’re going to process the scene, see if we can pick up some trace evidence.” He kept pulling against her hand, as if her words didn’t register. His unblinking eyes scared her. “Troy!” She had to capture his attention. She hauled him back toward her, and his head swung around. “Don’t go any closer. That evidence could be critical.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah, sorry. I…” he looked toward the chains. “God, is all that blood mine?” “I think so.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I lived.” He kept staring at the area. Then his head swung toward the opening where the hay was loaded. “I think that’s where I jumped.” They walked toward the opening and looked down. It had to be a twenty-foot drop. “I can’t believe I made it through that jump with only a broken foot.” Jo shuddered and tugged him around so he was facing her. “You lived because you’re tough as hell and a survivor.” She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. “A very sexy survivor.” He chuckled and encircled her in his arms. “Only you could make a tragic moment like this memorable.”

She smiled and kissed him applying baby kisses on his cheeks and trailing down his throat. Shifting back, she fingered the mark on his neck. “Did I do that?” She smiled and teased the mark with her fingers. “Oh, yeah, and I enjoyed every minute of that hickey.” “Nah, that’s not a hickey. I don’t give hickeys.” He grinned and walked her back toward the hay until a bale stopped her. She plopped her butt down on the bale, saying, “Humph.” “That, Agent Clarin, is definitely a hickey.” “It is not. That’s a tiny little mark, not a real hickey” Jo tried to sound firm but knew the twitching of her lips didn’t fool him. Standing, he leaned forward and imprisoned her in between his arms. “Is that right?” He inched his head down until his warm breath brushed against her cheek. “I’ll show you a real hickey.” Jo squealed when he bent over and latched his mouth onto her neck. She squirmed, tried to protest and ended with a laugh. “T-r-o—.” Her voice died off when his lips began to suck, his tongue helping his mouth fasten on her tender skin. Her heart began pounding, her breath gasped, her nipples hardened into nubs. She dropped her head back to give him better access, her arms wrapping around him. To her surprise, her body bowed into his and she moaned, a long, sensual sound. Hearing it stunned her. Especially when she realized it came from her throat. Troy lifted his head and gently licked the spot he had sucked. “Yesss, you’re so beautiful. Moan for me.” He bent forward and kissed her while he clutched her to him. Her legs spread, he leaned in closer. Aligning his hips with hers, he pressed his erection into her and thrust forward, while his lips stroked her, time and time again. The sensations were incredible. Heat swept up her body, from her toes to her sex. She moved with him, unable to help herself. “ERT’s on their way.” Sandy’s yell stopped them. Troy inched back, untangling his arms, and gently set her back onto the hay bale. He glanced around, then smiled. “I’ll never see this place in the same way, thanks to you.” He winked at her. Jo sucked in an auditable breath, then slowly released it. He held his hand out to her. She reached out and grabbed it. He yanked her into his arms. She gasped. He leaned his head down and softly kissed her neck. “Now that, Agent Clarin, is a proper hickey.”

Chapter Nine It took three hours to process the barn for evidence. By the time the team was done, Jo was riding the edge of exhaustion. “Did you get anything from the barn owner?” she asked Jim. They all sat on their car hoods, waiting for ERT to finishing bagging the evidence. Jo coordinated the results of the neighborhood canvass. “Nah. The old man barely gets up off the lounger. He heard some activity in the area, motorcycles, that’s about all.” Jim flipped through the pages of the little steno pad. Obsessed, he kept notes on everything. “The barn has been abandoned for over a decade,” he said. Jo took another sip of her water, and passed it to Troy, who took a healthy swig. Jim raised a single brow. “Agent Clarin.” The ERT agent in charge, a tall, stocky woman, approached and Jo jumped off the car. “We’re about finished here,” the ERT agent said. “I think we got some good stuff. Might get a print off one of those weapons and lots of hair, some possible semen. I’ll process it and send it to the lab ASAP.” Jo shook her head. “Send the weapon with the print to the local lab, could you?” The agent hesitated. “You know that’s not procedure.” Jo didn’t say anything. “All right, will do. Let’s keep it between us.” Jo shook her hand and thanked her, then walked back to her team. Troy patted the open spot next to him. She slid back onto the car hood. “What else?” she asked as she took the water bottle he offered and looked at Sandy. “I’ve got the neighbor down the road. She said she saw some nasty looking gang members on motorcycles. The description was white male, white female. That’s about all she could see. Said they wore half helmets. The bikes were loud.” She nodded and pointed to Zeik. “I’ve got basically the same theme. Neighbor behind heard motorcycles for a couple weeks. Their properties are so spread out, no one saw anything.” “Okay.” Jo slipped a power bar from her pocket, broke off a piece and handed it to Troy. She held the bar up, offering a piece to the others. They shook their heads. “This is good,” she said. “We got a general description and a theme. Not bad, I can work with that.” She turned to Troy. “Motorcycle noise? Anything?” He nodded. “Yeah, I think so.” She grabbed her phone and dialed. “Hey, Lion, how’s it hanging?” “Bigger and longer than any of those other wimps,” he answered She paused. “Now that I believe.” Smiling, she turned the back of her head to Jim. “You know that source you have in the Red Devils Motorcycle Gang?” she asked Lion. “Yeah.” “Tap him for some info. Criminals like to brag. See if anyone’s been bragging about Troy’s abduction.”

“So that’s where this investigation is heading, huh?” “Yep.” She brushed crumbs from the power bar off her hands and stood. “Anything on the note yet?” she asked, peeling off her gear. Troy slipped off the car and started helping her unhook the Velcro tabs on her vest. “Nope not yet. Tell Zeik he needs to use a little more cream with that coffee at the lab.” Lion warned. “I’ll tell him. I’m out.” “I’ll call when I hear something,” Lion said. “Roger that. Kiss that beautiful little girl for me.” She handed Troy her tactical vest and started to peel off her undercover vest. Troy shifted around the back and helped her remove it. He was close, so close. As he undid the Velcro strap at the top of her shoulder, his breath puffed onto her back. He stepped in closer. She smelled him, salty and sweet, she wanted to lick every inch of him. The sensation made her shiver. “I will. You can’t keep me here forever, you know.” His anger transmitted through the phone. Jo grimaced. She purposely didn’t take Lion on this dangerous of an assignment because of his wife and daughter. “Yeah, I know, indulge me, okay. Your time will come. Tap the source. I need this.” She wasn’t going to make excuses. Sometimes she didn’t question her instinct, and this time it told her to leave him. “I’ll get back to you,” he promised. Jo hung up the phone and surveyed the group. They watched her with half quirky smiles on their faces, as if they held back laughter. She shrugged out of her vest and handed it to Troy. He threw it into the back of the car. “Don’t you guys have anything to do?” she said with a snarl. Jim held up his hand, tilted his head toward Troy, and waggled his eyebrows. “Hubba, hubba.” Jo whipped off her hat and threw it at him. He caught it, laughing. “Okay, enough fun. Let’s go get something to eat and settle in for the night. I want Troy to watch that surveillance video, and we all need a good night’s sleep.” **** The video ready, Jo plopped on the bed next to Troy. Done for the night and with everyone totally exhausted. They had gotten three rooms with connecting doors and unlocked every one of them. Jo rotated her head and rubbed the back of her neck. Something had her worried. She didn’t like the feeling. “I’ve cued this video to the reported robbery time. If you see something, you can slow it. It’s a special machine. The museum surveillance system has six cameras. They take a picture every six seconds, so it looks garbled now, if you need to go frame by frame, push this button.” She handed him the remote and flopped back on the bed. The room next to hers was Troy’s. But she didn’t want him out of her sight. She had a bad feeling swirling around in her consciousness. Stirring up Raleigh could easily make them a target, wouldn’t be hard for the kidnappers to find them if he was connected to them. When she felt this way, she usually listened. She lay back on the bed and closed her eyes.

“Yell if you see something,” she murmured. It seemed like thirty seconds later he was waking her up. “Jo, I got something.” She immediately sat up. He pointed to the screen, and slowed the speed, reviewing one frame at a time. A white male and female both smashed the glass of the display case with hammers. Lifting the brand from its case, the male turned toward the female and swept her into his arms, then gave her an opened-mouthed kiss. He lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his hips and kissed him back. Jo shifted on the bed, watching the two scumbags make out. She mentally slapped herself for getting aroused. The man dropped the women, stepped back and gave Jo her birthday and Christmas present rolled up in one. He turned directly toward the camera when the six-second delay hit. They had him. “Hot damn.” Jo leaned forward and adjusted the video machine to replay to frame several times. “Do you recognize him?” Troy leaned forward and stared at the frozen screen. “They wore the ski masks with holes for their eyes and mouths every time they dealt with me. I couldn’t see their faces. They had a hood over my head. I can’t tell.” He fisted his hand. “If I heard their voices, I would know.” Jo made a note of the frame number and popped the video out of the recorder. “Then let’s get him into custody, so you can hear his voice.” Grasping the video, she jumped off the bed and sailed into the connecting room. “Jim, Zeik.” Zeik was watching TV, Jim lying on the bed, fully clothed, catching a nap. “Guys, we’ve got something.” Jim’s eyes opened and he sat up. He ran a hand over his bald head. “What’s up, dude?” “I think I’ve got a picture of them. Take this video to the local PD. They’ll have a machine. Capture the picture on this frame.” She handed Zeik the note. “Then ask them to run this face, see what they come up with. Scan it and e-mail to Lion. See if his source can identify him. This guy’s got to be in the system. Maybe even a local. “Our next priority is to find this man. I’ll stay here with Troy and catch a few winks. Sandy can take next shift. Call me as soon as you get something.” Jim grabbed the video. Zeik was already hauling his duffle bag over his shoulder. “Got it, boss,” Jim said. “Catch a few. If we ID this guy, could be a long night.” Jo nodded. She waved them away and walked across her room to Sandy’s. She knocked lightly on the connection door. Sandy came to the door, bleary-eyed and sleep tousled. Seeing the raccoon-like circles under his eyes, she couldn’t bear to put him on watch. “Wanted to tell you we might have a picture of our subjects. I’ll take this watch. Go back to sleep for now. I’ll wake you in three hours.” He nodded, turned around and fell back onto the bed. Jo quietly closed the door. She rubbed her hands together and smiled. “Yeah, might have a big break here, Troy.” She looked at Troy. He was snoozing away, his big body sprawled out on the bed, his hands behind his head. He had removed

his shirt, tossing it to the foot of the bed. Jo cringed at the scarring, knowing the pain he’d endured. She snapped off most the lights, leaving only the bathroom light on. Approaching Troy, Jo grabbed a blanket off the second bed and spread it over his slumbering form. She unclasped his hands from behind his head and placed them on his stomach. He jerked and moaned. Jo sat down. She caressed his cheek, running her hand through his soft hair. “It’s okay, you’re safe.” Her words seemed to settle him. She lifted his hand and tucked it under her chin. Sexy, he had charisma most men lacked. She slid her fingers over his forehead, pushing his tousled hair out of his eyes. Jo closed her eyes. She was dead tired. They had been going non-stop for the last three days. She kicked off her shoes and socks. Tucking Troy’s hand into her side, she laid down next to him. She let her mind drift, mulling over Troy’s case. They had gotten a break today, fitting a face to the suspects. Hopefully, they would get a print off one of those knives. Thinking about the blood beneath the chains in the barn, Jo’s teeth clenched. She’d lost her objectivity. She needed to take ten. Sighing, she released her tension. **** The slide of his lips on her neck woke her. “Ahhh.” Jo moaned when his teeth grazed her jugular. Her eyes opened. She realized she should protest, but she couldn’t. She wanted him in the worst way, and was tired of fighting her need. “Troy.” She sighed when his lips traveled to hers. He took them hard, fast, his tongue invading. Jo’s arms dropped around him as she sank into his embrace. Again and again, he took, his tongue outlining her bottom lip and tugging. Her mouth opened wider for him. He tilted his head and ravished her. Then he pulled back. Panting, Jo met his hooded gaze. “Take off your shirt.” Leaning up, Jo slid her shirt off, letting it drop to the floor. Her shirt wasn’t enough for him. He lowered his head and nudged her bra with his mouth. “This too.” Jo’s gaze met his. He rolled off the bed and dropped his pants, leaving his skimpy briefs. His erection was unmistakably healthy, and ready for action. He came back to her. Leaning on the bed with one knee, he surrounded her, capturing her between his arms. Slowly Jo reached up and unclipped the front of the bra. It popped open, gaping. Her breasts spilled out. Her breasts had always been large. Usually they annoyed her, but the pleased expression on his face gave her a certain amount of satisfaction. He smiled. It was a cat-lick-the-cream grin. He inched forward. His gaze captured hers. Watching the way he moved, the play of his mouth coming toward her skin, she mewled like a cat about to lick the cream herself. He was clearly enjoying himself and, in turn, her. Then his mouth touched her breast and he sucked her nipple into his mouth. Jo arched into him.

“Ahhh.” Her mouth fell open, she felt her heat growing damp. He alternated between sucking and licking. She was on the verge of exploding simply with the tonguing of her breasts. “Take off all of it,” he commanded. She smiled. What the hell. It was time to throw caution to the wind and enjoy. She rarely took pleasure in life. Always so focused. She wanted to concentrate on Troy now, to lick every inch of his body. Sitting up, she laid a single hand on his chest and shoved. It wasn’t a hard push, but he bounced backward onto the bed. Grinning, he slipped his hands behind his head and watched. “Show me,” he said. Jo dropped her bra on the floor, letting the cloth roll off her fingers. Running her hands under her breasts, she caressed them, and ran a finger around her areolas. Troy’s eyes clouded. He looked ready to leap from the bed right onto her. He cleared his throat, as if his breath caught. She removed her hands and reached down to unzip her jeans. Slowly, she pushed them down over her hips, pooling them at her feet. She kicked them away. She touched the top of her thong. Thumbing the material, she ran her fingers along the line. Then she inched them down, rotating her hips from side to side. She could see the sweat forming on his brow. She teased him, drawing out the removal of the skimpy underwear, despite the fact she wanted to pounce. Troy looked like an animal ready to claim his mate. Obviously, he reached the end of his patience. “You’re so beautiful.” He fingered his briefs, the desire invading his body obvious. She tossed her panties. Completely naked, she sauntered forward. She grabbed his briefs. He leaned his hips up for her and she yanked his underwear from his body. His erection sprang free, hard and veined. She wanted to worship him, like in the Egyptian days where slaves revered their king. It was strange feeling, this need to have him. Like nothing she had ever experienced before. Crawling onto the bed, she straddled him. Then went to work. Starting with his nipples, she licked, and aroused. He arched and groaned, his hand falling on her head. She mapped his chest with her lips and tongue, kissing each scar she encountered. She grieved for his suffering. His pain became hers. His hand fisted in her hair. He panted, moaning. She continued, stretching the limits of her restraint, when all she really wanted to do was guide her heat down his hard shaft. When she reached his groin, he tensed, his breath hitched. She smiled against his skin, leisurely making her way to his cock. A sheen of perspiration glowed on his skin. His breath panted in and out. Finally she closed her lips over him and sucked, hard. “God,” he said. Both hands fell to her head, but he didn’t push, didn’t pressure. She took him full in to the back of her throat, riding his cock with her mouth, determined to give him pleasure. He tasted so good, all male, salty yet soft like velvet. His scent wafted over her, teasing her. He tensed, his body hardening, his erection lengthening. She loved the power she held over his body and reveled in the desire she felt radiating from him. Worship was a tame word, now she thought more in the lines of devour. She meant to have him for dinner and keep him for dessert. She remembered all the times she wanted to do this to him, all the stolen kisses, and the heated touches. Oh

yeah, she wanted him, and now she had him. She wrapped her tongue around him, enjoying the feel of his strength under her; she teased him with her mouth, tonguing the veins of his erection. “Wait, stop,” he demanded, his voice hoarse, his fists clenching, fisting and releasing in her hair. “I’ve never had unprotected sex, do I need protection?” his voice was strained. “I’m on the pill. I’ve never had unprotected sex, either. We’re good.” She said. Jo raised her head, made eye contact with him, and gave one final slow lick of his beautiful cock. It was clear to her she pushed him over the edge when he exploded into action. Flipping her body under his, he took her in one thrust, burying himself to the hilt. “Yes.” She rotated her hips into his. He leaned forward and kissed her, a passionate meeting of lips, his tongue thrusting in unison with his hips. She arched into his body. Her body exploded, the feel of him far surpassed anything she expected. So much better, the feel of his body over hers, in her. Her control shattered. She cried out, lost in him. She felt him deep inside, one with her. She had never experienced this closeness with another individual. “Sorry, go slow later.” He panted between words. His heart pounded against her chest. Jo wrapped her arms around him and hung on. “Come with me,” he whispered against her ear as he teased it with his tongue and drove in and out. She needed to fulfill his request, craved the released he asked for. “Yesssss,” she said, her body answering his call. The tingle started in her toes and traveled up her legs to the base of her spine. So amazing, she was close, so close to flying. She yearned to go over the edge with him. “Troy,” she cried out, and came with a burst of light. He panted, kissed her, and drove into her. Crying out, he joined her, spilling himself. He eased down onto her body. They stayed that way, pressed together. Jo held him, running her hand through his damp hair. He moaned and nuzzled her throat. “Thank you.” She chuckled. “No—thank you.” Laughing, he rolled to his side, taking her with him. He hugged her. Easing back, he kissed her, slow and warm. His lips traveled down her face, her cheek, and her throat. “That,” he said, kissing her throat, “is a huge hickey.” Jo tipped her head back and laughed. He slid in closer, reaching up to caress her face. “When you laugh, Jo,” he fingered the dimple on her cheek, “you’re so incredibly sexy.” She smiled when he twisted his finger in her dimple. She felt his cock harden against her stomach. Her brows rose. He wiggled his in response. “We’re not done here.” His lips traveled from her throat to her breasts. “That was quick and dirty.” He licked her nipple, and slowly sucked it into his mouth. Lifting his mouth, he said, “Now we do slow and thorough. That took the edge off, but now let’s get down to exploring.” Jo arched, her breath left her, and she bowed into his mouth. “I’m going to kiss every scar on your body,” he whispered as he leaned down and started with her collarbone. His hair fell onto her breasts and tickled her nipples. Jo

hissed her pleasure. She had never been adored as he was doing, never been loved in that way. Inch by inch, he began to slide down her body. “Ahhh, Troy.” He was clearly enjoying himself. It was an erotic experience, watching his tongue and mouth claim her skin. Teasing her now, as she had played with him earlier. “Enjoy, Jo. Let go and feel me.” He rubbed his cheek against the skin beneath her ribs, so sensitive. His fingers wandered, flicking her nipples, his tongue laving her navel, and his erection sliding against her leg. His jaw was rough with five-o-clock shadow. The contrast of his rough cheek, smooth fingers, and wet tongue were amazing. Jo’s hands fell to his head as she surrendered to her passion. She could smell him, his scent calling to her. She would never in a million years match the longing he brought forth in her with any feeling she had ever experienced. With him, she wanted to surrender. She needed to give him everything she had and more. She loved it. He kissed every scar within his reach, his tongue rimming each one as if he could wash them off her skin. Tears formed in her eyes. His hands were never idle, stroking and petting they traveled the length of her body. He spread his fingers and massaged her flesh, a handful at a time. He took his time, as if he had tons to spare. Then he started all over again, mouth, tongue, fingers everywhere. Jo was on fire, the heat centered where he touched. He didn’t leave one blemish untouched. “Jo, God, what’s this?” He’d found the knife wound, a long scar on her hip. “My mom was living with a John. Before school, he would sit at the kitchen table during my breakfast and toss his boot knife back and forth between his hands. He watched me the whole time, a mad twinkle in his expression. Once, not fast enough, I caught it in the hip. He touched the scar. Ragged, never healed well. Her mom wouldn’t take her to the doctor, too many questions. Her mom hated it when the hospital staff asked too many questions, so she had to tolerate butterfly bandages and poor first aid. “How old?” he asked as he touched the scar, running his fingertips over it as if it was still fresh. “Nine.” He moaned, and she sucked in her breath and flinched when he kissed it. It was sensitive, that area of her skin, she could feel everything three times over. Strange, usually that type of scar was numb, but this was the opposite. “It doesn’t hurt, does it?” he asked and pulled back slightly. “God, noooo, the opposite.” He chuckled. “Ahh I see.” He moved back in and laved it, tracing it with his tongue. Then he traveled up her body and leisurely entered her as if he had all the time in the world. Jo’s gut clenched in arousal. “Ahhh,” she groaned. She knew the instant his body’s instinct won over his patience. The slow, measured strokes became sure and fast. Jo wrapped her legs around him and did what he asked. Letting go, she simply felt. “Troy, Troy, so good,” she chanted. Her body tightened and she moaned. Her hips pumped with his.

“Yes. God, yesss. Good.” His words strained, she got the point. He kissed her then, long and hard. His tongue claiming hers, he rode her body with his cock, taking her higher and higher. Jo could barely catch her breath, surrounded by their mingled desire. His breath replaced hers, and she sucked it in. “Jo.” He was close, and she could tell he wanted her with him. “Yesss,” she answered, arched and went over with his final thrust. She screamed out, her body convulsing, the walls of her vagina clutching and letting go as she orgasmed. Nothing had ever felt this wonderful. He fell with her. He groaned, his body stiffening and shuddering. Jo smiled, her legs still locked around him as he came. Then he collapsed on top of her. They stayed like that for moments. She smelled the semen, the scent of his body, and her lips curved into a smile. “Wow.” He laughed at her, rotating his hips against hers. She felt her eyes widen as he grew inside her. “Don’t think this night is over,” he promised as he rolled them both while kissing her. Jo held on until they came to rest in the middle of the bed, her on top. He ran his hand down her back and rested it on her ass. “What, again?” she asked, lifting her head to see his answer. He wiggled his eyebrows at her. She recognized his expression. She smiled at him. “Oh yeah, and again, and again…” Jim was right, she thought when she sprawled her body over Troy’s. It was going to be a long night.

Chapter Ten “Troy, s-t-o-p.” Troy pinned Jo against the wall, caging her between his arms. He would never get enough of her. She had been his for three undisturbed hours and he wanted more. Dressed, Jo was ready to go. He bent his elbows and pressed his body against hers. He breathed in her aroma. She gave off a sweet fragrance he couldn’t quite identify, maybe a shampoo with lilac. Her scent drove him wild. “Um, I love the way you smell.” He heard her suck in a breath as he pressed against her. He knew the moment she gave up her protests, her hands coming up to rest on his chest over his pounding heart. He hadn’t been able to get his shirt all the way on. It hung open, a blatant invitation. Troy sucked in a breath when she ran her hands over his bare chest. His body tightened. He couldn’t believe he was ready for her again. He had loved her three times and still wasn’t satisfied. “We have to…” she began, and he silenced her with his lips. Tilting his head, he sunk into her. God, she’s extraordinary, he thought, like sipping the finest red wine, tart yet sweet, with a subtle punch that sent his heart hammering. “—get that shirt on…” she managed before her voice trailed off and her hands journeyed up his chest to settle around his shoulders. He smiled and nuzzled her cheek. “You were saying?” He planted a few strategic kisses on her neck, following up with a lick. He loved her taste as much as her scent. He remembered feasting on her sex last night, and inhaled sharply. Lifting his lips from her neck, he tried to gain control. The ringing of her phone stopped him from further exploration. He leaned back, letting her pull the cell phone to her ear. “Go.” She was brisk and efficient in her conversations, never wasting words. But she certainly didn’t love that way. Last night, she had been thorough and detailed, covering every inch of his body with her lips and hands. The thought of it shot a wave of desire shooting up his spine to the tips of his fingers. He stepped back. If he remained close to her, he couldn’t be responsible for his actions. His body had taken over his brain. “Great.” She jotted some notes on a small notebook next to the bed. Troy buttoned his shirt. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to put some order to it. They had showered together, Jo shampooing his hair, massaging his scalp. When she was rinsing the soap off her body, he had taken her right there in the shower, slipping into her from behind. His hand trembled when he tried to fasten his last button. Man, I’ve got it bad. With Jo in the room, he couldn’t think straight. Her wet hair cascaded to her shoulders. The contrast between her dark hair and light blue eyes stunned him. She had attracted him from the first moment he had seen her. And her voice, sexy and soothing at the same time. Incredible. Unable to fasten the last button, Troy dropped his hands. The hell with it. “Um huh. Good. Yep. Okay, we’re on our way.”

She grabbed the paper from the pad, folded it, and shoved it into her back pocket. He watched her. Even the curve of her back excited him. He had explored every inch of that back, kissed every scar, loosened every sore muscle. By the time he had finished with her, she had been boneless. She reached over and pulled on her gun, then slid the smaller gun into a holster at her ankle. “What ya got?” Troy came up from behind and folded her into his arms. He hugged her, resting his chin on top of her head. She leaned back against him. “We’ve got a match on the male suspect, Chad Riser. A local motorcycle gang member. Already wanted for murder. He’s been a fugitive for over a year. Detective Blackhawk, the local gang squad’s leader, has some good intel. They’ve been trying to locate him with no luck. We’re circulating the photo out now. See if we can get any hits from the locals. “Lion got a match on the girl from his source. Lydia Garcia, she’s a Red Devil’s prostitute. A coldhearted bitch is a better way to describe her. Known to hang with rough members and right now that’s Riser. And she’s been bragging to the locals. The print on the knife belongs to her. Riser is a killer for hire, so someone else must be behind this. “Zeik’s been analyzing Raleigh’s calls. Nothing out of the ordinary. We can review them, see if there’s any numbers you recognize.” She turned in his arms. Stepping back, she reached forward and finished the buttoning job he had abandoned. In turn, Troy adjusted her shoulder harness to rest properly on her small frame. Then he couldn’t help himself, he leaned forward and kissed her. It was supposed to be a thank you kiss for dressing him, but it turned into much more. As soon as their lips touched, he craved her. He wrapped her into his arms and tugged her into his body. She stumbled against him. His hand slid into her hair, his fingers weaving through the dark, silky mass. He loved to do this, control the angle of their kiss. He tilted her head to the desired position and opened her mouth with his. Their tongues tangled. “Can’t…” he came up for air, delved back down, then up again. “Can’t get enough of you, Jo.” He went in for more. “Me either,” she murmured when he let her breathe. Releasing her, Troy stepped back and held up his hands. “Okay, I’m… Okay what you were saying?” She ran a hand through her hair, disheveling it, resulting in a sexy, tumbled look. His aroused cock kicked against his zipper, ready to continue what they started. He wanted her again. “We need to get to the station,” she said, her voice husky with passion. She cleared her throat. Forcing himself to turn away, he plucked his own weapon out of the drawer and slid it into the holster on his ankle. Besides grabbing the keys and patiently waiting for him, she didn’t say anything. He opened his hands. “Let me drive.” She shook her head. “What about your hand?” He rotated his hand back and forth. “It’s good. Come on, I’m going crazy, not driving.” She tossed him the keys. He caught them.

“Fine, don’t get us a ticket.” “Yeah, right.” Jo walked over and knocked on Sandy’s door. He opened it, fully dressed. “Let’s go, Newbie. Got work to do.” He joined them. Outside, Jo glanced around, eyeing an older Pontiac on the street. Troy realized she was always alert. The only time she let her guard down was when they were in bed. A place he prayed they would return to soon. Troy hopped into the car and caressed the steering wheel. It felt good to be in the driver’s seat. He’d missed it. He’d dreamed of being a NASCAR racer since he was ten years old, going to the races with his dad. He couldn’t believe it when he achieved his dream—only to have it come crashing down. They had teased him, his torturers, about being rich and famous. They were angry about life, jealous of someone like him who had worked damn hard to reach the top of a very competitive sport. “We gonna go today, slick?” she asked. He turned the key in the ignition. “Hold on, darlin’. You’re in for the ride of your life.” He gave her his killer smile. He could see the red flush traveling up her neck to her cheeks. She shook her head. He loved to tease her. Nothing better than seeing a FBI agent blush. Except seeing her blush when she was butt naked. Troy settled in. He steered out of the hotel and floored it. Jo and Sandy grabbed a handhold. Jo sputtered, “Take it easy there.” Ignoring her protests, Troy enjoyed the feel of the car under him. It felt good. He took pleasure being behind the wheel again. He depressed the accelerator further, feeling comfortable speeding on the long country highway. Then he noticed the car in his rear view mirror. It came fast, swerving behind him. The Pontiac Jo had eyed. He had a bad feeling in his gut. “Uh, guys, take a look behind.” They both swiveled. The car was rushing up. Jo drew her gun from her shoulder holster. Despite the danger of their situation, he couldn’t help but be aroused. She was like G.I. Jane and Alias rolled into one sexy package. Behind her, Sandy pulled his weapon. Troy increased the speed, attempting to outrun the car. The car shadowed him and came up fast. “Hold on, guys.” Troy’s hands tightened on the wheel and braced for impact. He was in his element. If the bastards thought they could beat him on the road, they were sadly mistaken. He felt the impact of the car hitting his bumper. He kept it steady. “Aroooo,” he howled. “Come on, you bastards. I’m ready.” He swerved right to shake them. Glancing in the rear view mirror, he saw Jo staring at him. “You enjoying this, Vinstonie?” He jerked to the left when the car followed him, concentrating on keeping the car steady. At the speed he was reaching for, near one hundred miles per hour, mistakes were not advisable. “Oh, yeah, come and get me you bastards.” Then the unexpected happened, the back window blew out. They ducked down, Troy the best he could, yet still drive.

“Shit,” Jo yelled as she jacked back her gun. “This is war. Stay down, Sandy. Troy, get me in a position so I can fire back.” The pop, pop, pop of an automatic weapon quickened him into action. “Hold on.” He swerved back and forth to try and shake their pursuer. More shots hit the back of the car. Sandy yelped. Jo screamed, “Sandy, you okay?” “Yeah, grazed me. I’m okay.” “Shit, shit, shit.” Jo rolled down the window. “What the hell are you doing?” Troy looked back and forth between the road and Jo. “Buying us some time.” She leaned out the window and emptied a clip. The car behind them screeched to the side of the road, spun around, then continued forward as if nothing had happened. It caught up to them quickly. Jo dropped back down into the seat and plucked a clip from her holster like one might an apple from a tree. “Well, that was really effective.” Sandy aligned his gun on the back window and shot. At the same time more return shots pounded into the back of the car. He scrunched further down to the seat. Two bullets logged themselves in the front window. “Troy, let’s see that skill. Turn us around!” “All right, kids, let’s rock and roll. Anchor yourself,” he yelled. Troy checked his mirror, mapped the position of the car, then he hit the brakes, wrenched the wheel and purposely spun the car. The noise was deafening, he smelled the burn of tires on the asphalt. They spun in a 180-degree turn. He heard Sandy screaming in the back. As soon as they reached the position he wanted, he jammed his foot on the accelerator and brought them alongside the Pontiac, facing the opposite direction. “Do your thing,” he said, Jo was already shooting out her window, followed by Sandy. Her shots flattened the tires and hit anything else luck presented to them. The car screeched down the road, tripped from the flat tires, flipped to its side, then jerked and tumbled back to its four wheels. It came to rest, smoke billowing from the engine. Troy slowed and curved around. He rolled up on the damaged car. There was no movement from inside. A female hung out the passenger side window. It didn’t look good. Jo threw her phone at him. “Call an ambulance,” she said, and leapt out of the car. “Sandy, follow.” At her command, Sandy flew out and covered her as she ran toward the car. She yelled, “FBI! FBI—don’t move.” Sandy yelled commands behind her. They were a force to be reckoned with. Troy made the call for an ambulance. Flexing his hand, he exited the vehicle. Sandy and Jo had already cleared the vehicle. Jo was checking the pulse of the driver, a man, when Troy came up. She dropped her hand. “Shit.” She glanced at him. “Cancel that ambulance.” Troy knelt down. “I have a feeling these were your kidnappers, God Damn Raleigh,” she said as she stole the phone out of his hands.

What he saw sickened him. They were both clearly dead. He shook his head. This wasn’t how he wanted the story to end. Or was it? He had wished for their death, cursed them every way he could, yet he didn’t feel avenged. The sight of their lifeless bodies didn’t erase the memories he carried. Jo was giving orders in her efficient, controlled manner. Sandy came around and knelt down next to him. “Sorry, man. Sorry it had to end this way.” He patted Troy on the shoulder. It didn’t help. Sirens wailed in the distance. Troy stood and walked away from the car. Jo strode to his side. “You okay?” she asked while juggling two phones. “Yep.” “Troy.” “Yeah?” “You’re one hell of a driver.” He slid his hands in his pockets. “I know.” He jerked his head toward the smoldering car and the approaching vehicles, “You better take care of this.” “Yeah.” She walked toward the mess.

Chapter Eleven “Want a break?” Jo buried her hands into Troy’s neck and massaged the tense muscles. He moaned and leaned into her touch. They had been scouring Raleigh’s phone records. She’d sent everyone to the hotel for some rest before they flew back tomorrow. The two dead suspects were identified as Garcia and Riser. They were back to step one. Nothing. Jo was beyond frustrated. The forensics pointed to Garcia and Riser, but that did them little good. She knew there was more to this kidnapping than two wackos getting off on torturing a famous NASCAR driver. Although the immediate threat had ended, Jo wasn’t satisfied. “Jo.” She leaned her head on top of his. “Yes.” “Let’s stop. I don’t understand why we’re doing this. I’m not in danger any more, you’ve done your job. We’re tired, and frankly I’d be much happier back in bed with you.” He ran his finger down another column of numbers as he spoke. “We’re doing this because something is missing.” She slid her fingers through his hair. After lifting it off his neck, she let it fall through her fingers. She would rather be in bed as well, and with him under her. He made a groaning noise that almost drove her over the edge. His head fell back. His finger drifted off the paper. Then he froze and straightened. He tapped his finger on the phone list. “Jo.” He grabbed a pen and starred a phone entry. “Shit, I know this number.” Jo dropped her hands and squinted at the number. “MJ Meyers,” he said. “These guys sponsor a team on the circuit. They’re strong. I think they were fifth in the standing when I left. Still in contention for the cup.” Jo sat down next to him. “Well, mystery solved.” She picked up her phone. “Damn, you think…” She sat back in the chair. Steepling her hands under her chin, she stared at him. “Right.” He shoved back and rubbed his tired eyes with the back of his hand. “Racing’s a cut throat business, but I never imagined someone would go to these lengths to win.” He held up his scarred wrist, his expression grim. Jo rubbed her thumb over the mark. “Welcome to my warped criminal world.” He swallowed. She could see he had a hard time containing his reaction to their discovery. She saw the wetness in his eyes. She never in a million years thought she would see this strong man cry. Reaching up, she caressed his cheek. “That which does not kill us, makes us stronger,” she whispered, her own tears glazing over her eyes. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers. “How the hell do we get the bastards?” he asked, his sorrow growing into anger. “We squeeze the little guy.” She pointed at the phone records. “We squeeze him till he pops.” “Let’s do it.” She grabbed her phone and dialed. Jim answered.

“Jim, get the team together, we’ve got a rat to catch. Meet us here at the police station.” “Okay, boss.” Then she made one more call. “Detective Blackhawk, it’s Agent Clarin.” “Hey, girl what’s happening?” Gabe had been her lifeline since they arrived in Boise. He was a Boise PD Detective, one of the best. He had arranged for them to take the video and the machine to view it. Allowed them use his space to review. He had given them the intel on Riser and Garcia. And currently he was running the crime scene. She had bypassed the local FBI office because of Raleigh. “Have you made a press release of Garcia and Riser’s deaths yet?” “Nah, been a little busy mopping up the mess out here. I’m still on site having the car towed and processing the bodies.” “Can you broadcast something for me?” she asked. “For you, Jo, anything.” Jo smiled. She thought he had a crush on her. Gabe Blackhawk was an attractive man, all hard bodied, six foot two inches of him. He was Native American and sexy as hell, with long black hair and exotic green eyes. He was easy on the eyes too. But she wasn’t interested. Her eyes shifted to Troy. He was starring all the calls on the list. He was incredible. When he was driving earlier, she saw a different side of him. He sat in the driver seat with confidence, comfortable in his skin. He had been in his element, executing a perfect turn that allowed them to take out the suspects. Without his driving skills, they might be dead now. No, she wasn’t interested in any other man except him. “Can you do a press release stating you have Troy’s kidnappers in custody?” she asked. There was a pause on the other end of the line. Finally, Gabe said, “Whatcha got planned, girl?” She heard the activity in the background, the noise of a truck beeping. Must be hauling the car onto the tow truck. “I’m going to catch a rat.” He chuckled. “Sure, Jo. On one condition.” “What?” She twirled her pen in her hand. “I’m in.” “You’re definitely in, Gabe.” She smiled. **** It was nine p.m. As they all did location checks, making sure whoever picked Raleigh up communicated to the team, the hours began to tick away in fifteen minute increments. They had an active tag going on Raleigh’s cellular phone and could track where he was going and whom he was calling instantly. He had already called the main number at MJ Meyers. Making contact with the man who gave the orders, Jo thought. Something was going to happen. “He’s panicked, Gabe, since you made that press release,” she said into the radio. “Yep,” he answered, satisfaction humming in his voice.

“As soon as he’s clear from the office, I want him picked up. We’ll take him to Gabe’s office and throw him in the interview room.” She downed another gulp of her coffee. “Roger that,” Jim answered for him and Zeik “We’re on board,” Gabe said. He was with Sandy, Troy was with her, and Jim paired with Zeik. They covered all three exits of the FBI Office. She didn’t want to take Raleigh anywhere near the office, in case he had another Agent involved. The less people alerted to what she did the better. There would be issues to deal with if she opened an investigation on another agent; OPR regulations, office politics, the Agent’s Association rep, way more paperwork than she ever wanted to do. Forget it. Jack had said go quiet and that’s what she was doing. She wanted Raleigh all to herself. Right now, the Boise PD were in charge of this investigation. She had passed everything to Gabe the minute she suspected a Federal Officer was involved. In return, he agreed to let her take command. The perfect solution to her problems. “Look alive, kids, we’ve got him.” Gabe’s voice floated over the radio. Troy started the car and dropped it into gear. He was in command, sure and confident. Watching him behind the wheel turned her on. She wasn’t even supposed to have a civilian on an operation like this. Another rule she was breaking. Luckily, with the investigation now under state jurisdiction, she had a lot more leeway than if it was a Bureau operation. They whipped around to Gabe’s location. “Stay back a bit,” she told him as she popped her seat belt. She didn’t need it on when they did the car stop. “Okay, boys, call out the ‘point’ when you have it. I’ll call the stop when I’m ready.” “Roger.” “Sounds good.” They all drove in Gabe’s unmarked vehicles, equipped with undercover lights, sirens and car-to-car radios. Troy had already familiarized himself with all the gadgets. “Remember what taking the point means,” she said. “The point is the person tracking the suspect. Also, think about the positioning instructions when we do the car stop.” “Got it.” They all wore the Boise PD jackets Gabe had given them. Troy’s strained against his broad shoulders. “I’ve got the point.” Jim picked Raleigh as soon as he slid into his car. “Right, we’re three back. Gabe stay behind us. When we take the point, you move forward.” “Okay.” He fell in two cars behind them. “Traffic is light. We need to be subtle. If Raleigh realizes he’s being tailed, he might make a run for it.” “Okay,” Troy said Jo was counting on Raleigh being already nervous. Nervous people felt compelled to talk. They switched off taking the point for thirty minutes before Jo was comfortable. Traveling through a small town with one traffic light, she made the call. “Let’s move in.”

Jim had already driven ahead and he was prepared to make the stop from the front. Gabe and Troy would come in from behind. Jim came tearing around the corner from the front, his lights and siren blaring. He headed straight toward Raleigh and jerked, blocking Raleigh’s vehicle from the front. Gabe and Troy came up from behind. Troy hit their lights and sirens, and Jo glimpsed Gabe’s car from the corner of eye. After that, everything moved at lighting speed. They bailed out of their cars. “Boise police!” they screamed. “Come out of the car, drop your weapons.” Raleigh was too shocked to even pull his gun. Jim yanked him out of the car and pressed his face in the asphalt. Raleigh grunted with pain. Pulling his hands back, Jim cuffed him as easily as a seasoned cowboy tied up a steer. Silently, Gabe reached down and hauled Raleigh to his feet. Sandy brushed off Raleigh’s pants as if the entire thing was a small mishap. Raleigh’s face was scuffed from meeting the payment. “Are you in need of medical attention?” Gabe asked. “Uh, no.” “Good. Agent Raleigh, you are being detained by the Boise Police department for questioning in the kidnapping and assault of Troy Vinstonie.” He whipped a laminated card from the pocket of his cargo pants. “You have the right to remain silent, you have the right to an attorney, anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law. Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?” “Ummm, yeah.” Jo stepped forward. Raleigh spotted her, broke Jim’s hold and lunged. “You fucking bitch, I’ll kill you.” Before he could take another step, Troy was on him. He back fisted him, and took him down with an elbow to the gut. As soon as Raleigh dropped, Troy straddled him, laid his hands on his neck and squeezed. The more Raleigh bucked, the more pressure Troy placed on his hands. Raleigh began gurgling. “Give me a reason, asshole,” Troy yelled. “Shit.” Jo jumped into action. The guys were about to haul Troy off of Raleigh but she waved them back, kneeling down. Troy had murder in his eyes. He was panting, his arms shaking in his rage. She recognized the signs. “Troy, Troy, look at me.” He didn’t acknowledge her. Raleigh began to turn blue. She knew he didn’t hear her. “Troy!” she screamed in his ear. He seemed to break out of his trance. His head shook, he loosened his hands, his eyes raised to hers. “He’s not worth it. Let him go. We’ve got some questions for him.” As if realizing what he was doing, his hands fell off Raleigh’s neck. Raleigh took a heaving breath, coughing, his color returning. She turned toward Gabe. “Take him. We’ll meet you at the station.” Gabe scooped Raleigh off the ground. He made a hand motion to the guys. They followed him. Troy, rotating his hand, walked back to the car. Jo fell into step next to him. “All right?”

“God, I would have killed him if you hadn’t stopped me.” “I know.” She picked up his hand, halting him while she felt around his wrist and ran her fingers up his forearm. Luckily he hadn’t hit Raleigh with the arm he had broken. Everything appeared okay besides the bruise forming on his forearm. Other than that, no damage. “You’ll live.” “Jo, I would have killed him.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Good thing you didn’t. I still have some questions for him.” Troy gazed around the small country town and shook his head. He began to laugh. “That’s it? I just told you I was about to kill a man and all you can say is you still need to question him.” He stepped in closer. Pinning her to the car, his arms fell to each side of her head. “Well, I might have let you kill him…if I didn’t need something from him.” Troy smiled and dipped his head. “You’re a piece of work, Agent Clarin.” He gently placed a kiss at the corner of her mouth. Having him this close was wreaking havoc on her senses, intensifying the emotions already running high from taking Raleigh down. “So are you, Vinstonie.” He ran small kisses along with her jaw. “When this is over,” he murmured, “can we go on a normal date, like normal people?” She laughed. “You are by no means a normal person. You’re a super star.” His lips trailed back to her mouth. “Okay, can we simply go on a date? Maybe you come home with me, meet my mom?” She followed his wandering lips until she caught them. He kissed her hard and fast, then slow and lingering. Her heart tried to catch up with her breath, but wasn’t successful. “Troy Vinstonie,” she said, pushing away an inch, “I would be happy to go on a date with you. As far as meeting your mother, I’ll have to think about that.” “Think about this.” He took her mouth, his tongue invading, mating with hers. He kissed her as if he never wanted to release her lips, then suddenly he pulled back. Jo heard her pulse pounding in her head—boom, boom, boom. She was ready to explode. If she had been a slave, this want for him would be her master, and she would do anything for him. “Okay, I’ll think about it.” He smiled and stepped back. “Let’s go squeeze that bastard.” She linked her arm through his. “Yes, let’s.”

Chapter Twelve Troy watched Jo and Gabe from the other side of the two-way glass. They made a great team, the dark handsome American Indian Police Detective and the beautiful blueeyed Federal Agent. They hammered Raleigh for an hour, playing with him like a mouse in a maze. They both looked calm and collected. Raleigh, on the other hand, was definitely worse for wear. His hair mussed because he kept running his hands through it, his tie askew. He was sweating profusely, and his underarms ringed with perspiration. Even through the glass, Troy felt the captured agent’s tension. Raleigh appeared ready to crack. Gabe held up a pack of cigarettes to Raleigh. “Another? Glass of water, anything?” He was playing the good cop, Troy thought. So far Jo hadn’t taken the role of bad cop. Raleigh shook his head, his eyes darting between the two as if they would jump him at any moment. “So,” Jo lay the marked phone records on the table, “despite the fact you don’t have any case relating to MJ Meyers, you called them. Hmmm, let’s see.” She drew an arrow on the paper. “Twelve times in the last nine weeks.” She shoved the pencil behind her ear. “You know, Agent Raleigh, we really appreciate your cooperation in this investigation. How helpful you’ve been. Sorry about that.” She brushed her hand over her own cheek to point out the bruise on his. His head made an up and down motion, as if he was agreeing with her. “I’m trying to help. I’m completely innocent.” “There’s one thing I don’t understand.” She played with the pencil at her ear. “If you’re innocent, why would both Riser and Garcia say you hired them?” Troy straightened. The bomb had dropped. Up to this point in the interview, they had only toyed with Raleigh. Making him feel a sense of security, Troy realized, that he never had. They were gaining Raleigh’s trust through their omissions. Troy saw how skilled Jo was, the warmth of pride puffing up his chest. He understood why her boss called her the best of the best. Raleigh stuttered, again spitting out his innocence. “Sy, tell me what they have on you.” Jo’s voice was gentle, as if she talked to a child. “Tell me what made you call this hit. I know you did it. I’ve got two people in the other room who tell me you did. Is it money? I could understand that, you know they don’t pay us very well. That’s perfectly understandable. It’s the money, isn’t it? It’s the money that made you call in this hit.” Raleigh slumped back in his chair and wiped the sweat dripping down the side of his face. He had given up. Troy recognized it from his body language. “No, it wasn’t the money.” “What was it, Sy? Who ordered you to do this?” Jo leaned forward. “The CEO of MJ Meyers, Lester Harms.” Jo plucked a notebook from her pocket as if to say, finally. Troy had heard about Lester Harms’ reputation. He was one of the most cutthroat CEOs in the business world. It was well known that he had many interests outside of his

tobacco company, all legal as far as Troy knew, and nothing criminal had ever been pinned to him. “He owns most of the bars downtown,” Raleigh said. “Went in one night, got set-up with a couple of hookers. How was I supposed to know they worked for him, recording everything for future blackmail schemes? They even took pictures.” He held up his hands. “I had connections to the Red Devil’s. I’d investigated them for years. I couldn’t help but make friends with a few of them. Sometimes,” he dropped his head, “sometimes I partied with them, a few joints here and there, no big deal. But Lester knew about those indiscretions, as well. He threatened to release the pictures to my wife. Shit. My family is all I’ve got. I’ve worked for him for three years now, ever since then.” Tears started rolling down his cheeks. Troy grimaced. The guy was pitiful. Jo had told him from the beginning that something wasn’t right with Raleigh. Now they all knew. “Those idiots weren’t supposed to torture him, for God’s sake. Their orders were to take him out for a few races so the other driver could move up in points. How the hell was I supposed to know they were so damn crazy? “I was supposed to meet Lester tonight. He doesn’t like to talk on the phone. If I don’t meet him I’m afraid what he’ll do.” “Oh you’ll meet him, all right,” Jo said, her voice a satisfied purr. “Don’t worry about that. But this time, with your permission, of course, you’ll be wired. We can help you, Raleigh. I promise you, we’ll protect you.” He brushed the tears from his eyes and swiped his shaking fingers under his nose. “God, I hope so.” She turned to Gabe. “Let’s wire him up.” **** Raleigh paced back and forth. He was nervous, too nervous. “Settle down.” Jo keyed into the receiver buried in his ear and hidden beneath his shaggy, unkempt hair. He sopped his brow with his shirtsleeve. “Yeah, got ya,” he whispered into his hidden mike. Jo motioned to Gabe. He rolled his eyes. They were sitting in a van marked as a power truck outside the park where Raleigh was supposed to meet Harms, monitoring everything. The remainder of the team was on standby in various hidden positions in the park. They were the arrest team. SWAT, in a van around the corner and Troy was with her. She’d given him strict instructions to stay put when she called for the team to move in. She had everything covered, she hoped. Raleigh had very simple instructions. Get Harms to admit his part in Troy’s kidnapping. A black sedan pulled up to the front of the park. Three men got out of the back. One was Harms and the other two burly men must be his bodyguards, she guessed. “Standby, team. Suspect just arrived and looks like he has guards. Assume they are all armed and dangerous. We’ve got the eye from here.” The van was equipped with a small surveillance hole that held a tiny camera. She and Troy could see everything from a monitor inside the van.

Harms was a gray-haired man in his mid fifties. He was handsome, wearing what appeared to be a designer suit, and he seemed unruffled. He and the two men approached Raleigh. “Mr. Harms, it wasn’t my fault those idiots were captured. I tried to control them, but they were crazy.” “Yes.” Lester Harms brushed something nonexistent off his jacket. “Seems I hired the wrong man to do the job of kidnapping Vinstonie.” He flicked his hand to the man next to him. Before Jo could even make the call, the bodyguard next to Harms drew a gun from under his jacket. All hell broke loose. “Shit. All agents, guns out. Move in, go, go, go. SWAT, move in.” Jo grabbed her MP-5 assault rifle as she ran out the back of the van. Geared up, she was ready to go. She yelled at Troy, “Don’t move.” She hoped to God he listened. She heard the crack of a gun and saw Raleigh go down as she sprinted from the van, Gabe behind her. Agents poured in from all around. “FBI, drop your weapons,” she screamed, running toward the men. She didn’t want to lose Raleigh. Even though he was an idiot, she had promised him she would help him. Hopefully, she could get off a couple shots before she hit cover. The men turned in surprise, the second man pulled a small assault rifle from under his jacket. They didn’t hesitate. They started shooting. Jo shot back, watching one of the men recoil to his left. She must have hit him. She saw Harms take off running. Before she was able to dive to the ground behind a children’s merry-go-round, she felt the burning sensation of a bullet hitting her thigh. She could hear the ping, ping, ping of bullets on the metal merry go round. Jo fingered the police radio attached to her shoulder. “Attention, all agents, Harms is running. Someone get him. Take cover, people, we still got one shooting.” She panted and talked at the same time, a difficult task for even the most experienced street cop. Her leg burned like hell, but she didn’t have time to think about that now. “We recovered him, Jo.” She positioned her weapon on the top of the metal of the merry-go-round and sighted the shooter. He was firing at everything, not concentrating on her. Hit twice by agents in the trees, he didn’t go down. Must be wearing a vest, she thought. She lined up a vulnerable spot. Sucking in a breath, ignoring the pain burning through her leg, she slowly released the air and very gently pulled the trigger. She made two successive shots to his head. He went down, falling to the ground. He didn’t move. “Clear it.” She watched as a half dozen SWAT agents converged on the scene. One kicked the gun away from the man doubled over in pain on the ground. The others leaned down, checking pulses on the other two injured men. “Raleigh is still alive,” one of the team reported. Relief was her first reaction. Her adrenaline rush waned and she felt lightheaded. Glancing at her thigh, she realized it was soaked with blood. She tried to rise, but didn’t make it. She slid down the merry-go-round and flopped to the sand. She looked up and thought she saw an angel, only to focus again on Troy’s face. “Stay with me, Jo.” He pressed something on her leg. She growled in pain. In the distance, she heard the wail of sirens. “They get Harms?”

“Oh, yeah, I even got a punch in before they hauled him away.” Jo frowned. His face wavered before her eyes. He pressed harder on her leg. She arched in pain, her heart pounding, the rhythm seemed unnatural. A swat paramedic appeared and dropped down next to Troy. He took control. He talked into his radio as he ripped on her jeans, and yelled something about an artery. “Hey.” She moaned. “Those are my best jeans.” She winced, and cried out when he stuck a needle in her arm. “Fuck,” she yelled. Troy leaned down. “Jo.” She caught his brown gaze, trying to concentrate on what he was saying. Her world grew dimmer by the moment. “I love you.” She smiled as she began to float, her vision narrowing in on him. “Love you.” That was all she got out before the world slipped away.

Chapter Thirteen “Agent Clarin, great to see you.” Jo crutched into the Children’s Abuse Center in downtown Oakland and greeted the counselor on site. She had been out on sick leave for over a week, and the inactivity made her crazy. Her boss had ordered her not to come back until cleared by the doctor. After getting shot, they told her it had been touch and go. The bullet had hit a major artery, and she was damn lucky she hadn’t bled out in the middle of the park sand box. Troy’s quick action to stop her bleeding had saved her life. If he hadn’t reached her sixty seconds before the paramedic arrived, she might have died from the blood loss. Then he’d stayed with her at the hospital until she was out of danger. She didn’t remember. By the time she woke, he was gone. She hadn’t seen Troy since the day they arrested Harms. She suspected that might be what was making her more insane. He was driving again. Although she didn’t believe he was ready, he’d gone back. His doctor must have cleared him. He couldn’t drive without clearance. The NASCAR teams were at Infineon Raceway in Sonoma, California today. Troy had invited Steve and several of the other older kids to the race, sending a limo to pick them up. Still he hadn’t contacted her. Hurt, she had thought she meant more to him than a quick lay. She distinctly remembered, before she passed out, Troy telling her he loved her. Maybe it had been a dream. One of the kids ran in to the main room. “Agent Jo, come see, Steve’s on TV.” She crutched into to TV room where kids surrounded her. She handed her crutches to the counselor and sat on the couch were she proceeded to hug and kiss every child in the room. Smiling, she blew a raspberry on little Joe’s belly. He was seven, forced into the shelter because of his jailed mother for drugs and child abandonment. They had found Joe eating out of a trash bin in the local grocery store. He giggled and gave a child’s high-pitched squeal. Jo laughed with him. “Look, look, turn it up, turn it up.” Sam, a five-year-old doll, jumped up and down and pointed to the TV. Troy was on TV with Steve by his side, an arm draped over the boy’s shoulder. Steve beamed in pride. “Folks,” the sports announcer said, his hearty face showing on the screen in front of Troy and Steve’s, “this is the scene from the Infineon Raceway earlier today. Taking the race today, Troy Vinstonie roars back into NASCAR with a bang.” The interviewer shoved the microphone into Troy’s face. “Congratulations on your win today, Troy. How does it feel to be back?” “It feels good.” All his team was behind him, yelling and screaming. “Who do we have here?” Troy patted Steve on the shoulder. “All the proceeds from today’s race will be going to the Children’s Abuse Center in Oakland, California. Steve is here, representing the Center.”

“Hi, everyone, yeeeeah!” Steve screamed into the microphone, and punched his hand into the air. All the kids went crazy, screaming and waving. Jo hugged Joe to her and smiled. “What now, Troy?” Troy looked directly into the camera. “Today was for the kids but now I’m going to take a little time off for my honeymoon.” The reporter looked shocked. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware you were getting married. Who’s the lucky girl?” Troy pointed into the camera. “Jo Clarin, watch out. I’m coming to get you.” Jo’s mouth dropped open. Had he just announced on national television they were getting married. It couldn’t be. She shifted Joe off her lap. The kids jumped up and down, pointing at her, mimicking Troy’s words. “He’s coming to get you, Agent Jo.” At that moment, the door burst open and Steve ran in. “Guys, did you see me on TV? It was soooo cool. Come on, we got cake.” He led the group to the kitchen, describing his day. His hands flew and he couldn’t stop smiling. “You got room on that couch for me?” The door closed behind the pack of children. Jo’s hand flew to her heart. Leaning against the doorjamb was Troy. His hair was loose around his shoulders, he wore a leather bomber jacket, a tight white T-shirt, and khaki cargo pants. He looked calm and composed—and as usual, sexy as hell. Jo pointed toward the TV. “Yeah, pre-recorded five hours ago. You didn’t watch the race?” She shook her head. “Well, Special Agent Clarin, I think I finally stunned you speechless.” He walked over and knelt in front of her. “Will you? Marry me?” “But we’ve only known each other…” He cut her off. “Doesn’t matter.” He picked up her hand. Reaching into his pocket, he produced the most beautiful ring she had every seen. Diamonds surrounded blue sapphires in the shape of a heart. He slid it on her finger. “Reminded me of your eyes.” “But you haven’t even called…” He stopped her again. “Had to finish a few things. Had a race to win, and a career to end.” “Troy.” Her heart broke. He couldn’t give up his career for her. “Jo, I’m quitting to work here at the center. I want to help these kids. After what happened to me, I realize my life needs to take a different path. I can still drive exhibits and charity events. I can really make a difference in these kids’ lives. This is what I was meant to do.” He engulfed her hands in his. “When you were shot, I realized the fame, the fortune, all the stuff that went with my career, didn’t mean anything to me. You, Jo, you and these kids, you give my life purpose beyond any materials things.” “But…” “I’m not giving up driving. I’m setting my career on the back burner. I have other priorities. Now, will you or will you not marry me?” “Well, if you would shut up and quit cutting me off, maybe I could answer you.”

He stood and leaned over her. Slowly he kissed her. Jo’s head dropped back as he ran baby kisses down her neck. “Ahhh.” He tasted her with his tongue, drawing a line around her healing hickey. “I can’t think straight when you do that.” “Good.” He positioned his lips above her mouth. “Don’t think, feel,” he commanded as he pressed his lips to hers. He tipped her back onto the couch and proceeded to kiss her speechless. Coming up for air, he pulled back. “Yes?” he asked. She relented, smiling at his little boy look. “Yes.” Suddenly Steven opened the kitchen door and a dozen little bodies tumbled to the floor. He peeked around the corner. “You get her, Troy?” Troy grinned and gave Steve a thumbs up. ‘Yeah, got her.” The kids ran screaming in, surrounding her. She laughed and tried to juggle two at once. She made eye contact with Troy. “Welcome to the family.” He was managing a couple kids of his own. “My pleasure.” “This job takes courage, Vinstonie. You got it in you?” she asked as he dangled a screaming Joe by his heels. He made eye contact with her. “You bet. I’ve got it to spare.” She lifted her arms and he hauled her from the couch onto his lap. She hugged him. “I’m so in love with you,” she told him. He squeezed her, his arms wrapping tighter. “I know. What’s not to love?” He gave her that smile, then a huge Cheshire-cat grin. She laughed. She knew he was going to be all right. His ordeal had helped bring him to her and for that she was grateful. “Yes, what’s not to love?”

Chapter Fourteen “You are supposed to be ready in two and a half hours.” Jo glanced up from the file and frowned at Olivia, Troy’s sister. Gorgeous, like all of his family, with miles of dark hair, with olive skin and regal features, she looked like a striking, foreign Queen. His older brothers were carbon copies of Troy, all handsome and muscle. Her family, that’s what Troy’s mother said, and all of them so nice. We are your family now. Thinking about it almost brought tears to her eyes. She had a feeling tears would be plentiful today. She was delaying dressing. She couldn’t believe she was marrying her dream man today. Worried it would all disappear, she procrastinated. They had decided to marry at the house, so all the kids could attend with minimum disruption. She’d been barred from downstairs for most the day as the family readied her wedding. She was curious to see how they dressed up the house. They were living there now, Troy and her. So much more convenient than commuting from the Hills and she had made a tidy profit from her house, enabling them to improve the center. Took their already busy life and simplified it. “I just have one more file to review. There’s this fugitive…” Olivia wouldn’t let her continue, she grabbed the file from her hand set it on the table. Jo was in trouble. When a Vinstonie had their minds set, they didn’t budge. “But…” She might as well been talking to herself. “Jo, you are coming with me.” She tugged Jo from her desk chair and led her to the next room, the wedding ready room, as Olivia had termed it. Her dress was hanging, front and center. Jo fingered the silk. It was a beautiful dress, Troy’s sister helped her pick it out and had it tailored for her. The session with the fitter was excruciatingly difficult. Jo couldn’t stand still for five seconds, let alone an hour. At Olivia’s urgings, she had prevailed, and the dress was stunning. The result was a simple straight-line design which flared out at the bottom with a scooped neck front and back, dipping down to show a good amount of her skin. All smiles and laughter, Troy’s other sister, Andria and his mother, flounced in. “Oh Olivia, you got her. Nice work. What a good little soldier you are,” Donata declared. Jo gritted her teeth, her loyal army was conspiring against her. For the next two hours Jo simply endured, hair, nails, and makeup. The results were unbelievable. Standing in front of the mirror she tried valiantly not to cry. Donata drew a necklace from a small velvet purse. “Something borrowed.” She clasped the necklace around Jo’s neck. She fingered the delicate charm. “This is the Italian charm for love.” Jo smiled at her. “Thank you, Donata.” She said tears formed in her eyes. “Mother.” Donata corrected her. Donata lightly dabbed a tissue at her eyes. She was tearing up as well. “Mother,” Jo answered. “Don’t cry, then we will all cry and ruin thirty minutes of makeup.” Jo warned as she tried to suck in her emotions.

“You are all so…” Engulfed in a group hug, she didn’t finish her sentence. They all laughed and cried at the same time. It was so strange for her, to feel welcomed by a family. She was never very close to her foster family, grateful but not close. Coming to them at such a late age, she never really felt a part of the family as she did this one. She felt accepted. It was humbling. “Wonderful,” she concluded as they each tried to repair her makeup. They went through the remaining gifts from Olivia and Andria, something old, new, and blue. A knock at the door stopped them. Troy’s father, Antonio entered. Look up tall, handsome, Italian racecar driver, in the dictionary and you would see a picture of Troy’s father, striking. His bearing was regal, obviously the King to her attendants. He approached Jo. “You look beautiful,” he said in accented Italian. He was the gentlest man. She couldn’t believe he used to make a living driving the fastest car the Indy circuit had to offer. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. If Jo weren’t in love with his son, she would have fallen for his father. “I’m so glad you are marrying my son, Bella.” Waving her hands in front of her eyes Jo tried to dry more tears. “Stop you guys, I’m going to die if I mess up the package you’ve tried so hard to dress up.” They laughed. Antonio weaved his arm through hers and patted her hand. “Shall we go? I have a very anxious son pacing downstairs at the altar. He looks ready to pass out.” She heaved in a breath, then sighed it out slowly. “Yes, let’s go.” As they descended the stairs, Troy’s sisters fell into place behind them, one by one. As soon as they cleared the stairs the bridal music began, flowers everywhere, surrounding her, make her feel warm and happy. Jo’s heart began beating a mile a minute. This was really happening, she was going to marry Troy. As she came to the end of the stairs, one of the children stepped forward and handed her an armful of white lily’s. She kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you, Bridget.” As Antonio led her around the corner she saw him through the doorway to the front room. He wore a black tux, with a white silk shirt accented by a subtle, gray, white and black tie. A white lily, her favorite flower, was pinned to his lapel. He was so handsome, her future husband, pacing back and forth, his head down in concentration. She had never seen him so stressed. * Troy’s heart was pounding. She wasn’t going to marry him. He paced back and forth in front of the Minister, who frowned at him. She changed her mind, he knew it. He sent his father up twenty minutes ago and he still hadn’t come down. Oh God, what if she really did change her mind? “Son you need to relax.” Troy’s head snapped toward the man.

“Right, right.” He wrung his hands together, so nervous, he was sweating through the armpits of his tux. He didn’t know it was possible to stress any further. He was beginning to get light headed with worry. What if, at the last minute, she chickened out? He could see it happening to Jo. Maybe his family had come on too strong. She wasn’t used to families like his. They were all over her. He told his mom to give her some breathing space, but his family was so full of love—they couldn’t do it. Maybe, that was it, maybe she couldn’t handle his family. Maybe it was him, maybe he did something wrong. Maybe— “Son?” Troy stopped. “Yeah.” The minister inclined his head toward the door. Troy eyes followed his signal and he almost passed out in relief. Standing in the doorway attached to his father’s arm, was his bride, in all her beauty. She was a vision, her dark hair piled on top of her heard surrounded by a little lacy crown. Her gown was incredible, mounds of dripping silk clung to her body in all the right places. Despite the fact the room overflowed with his closest friends and family, he became aroused. He sucked in a breath as she approached. All he could see was her. He couldn’t hear the music, didn’t hear the Minister ask everyone to stand, he only saw his future wife. Walking forward he took the hand his father offered. Raising her palm, he placed it to his pounding heart and stared into her eyes. A single tear fell down her cheek. He gently wiped it away. Then he did the unthinkable, he folded her into his arms and kissed her. She responded, her lips melting into his, her hand clenching on his chest. He tightened his fingers on hers, over his heart. Slowly he pulled back. He loved this woman, her smell, her feel, and every little thing about her. His emotions reared up as he fought to keep the tears from his eyes. The crowd around them grew silent, the music stopped. “Ready to get married?” He whispered as he wiped more tears from her eyes. “You had to make me mess up this makeup job, didn’t you?” He laughed and met her watery gaze with one of his own. He would never let her go. She was his now. Raising his eyebrows in question, he tilted his head toward the minister. She gave him a teary smile. “Yes, Troy, I’m ready to marry you.” At her quiet statement, the room broke out in applause. They both laughed and turned toward the Minister. “Let’s do this thing,” she said and hooked her arm through his. **** Hours, the party had taken hours. Jo sighed and slipped off her shoes, dropping them on the hotel room floor as she massaged her aching foot. Troy’s father had generously gifted them the honeymoon suite at a grand hotel in San Francisco. The view was fantastic, city lights winking at them from below their thirtieth floor room. Jo sighed in pleasure. As a little girl she dreamed of a wedding like she had today. She tried not to cry, not to let her emotions get the best of her. It hadn’t worked. She cried the entire wedding. Troy gave her that gentle smile, held her hand in his, and vowed to love her for the rest of her life. And she vowed to love him back. Although she did stumble on the ‘obey’ word.

Troy had given her a single raised eyebrow; she spit out the word, reluctantly. He smiled, nodded and moved on through the ceremony. She chuckled when she thought about it. Troy was tipping the concierge. Padding her way to the bathroom, Jo used the mirror to remove the lace ring around her head, carefully plucking the crown off. She removed the bobby pins stabbing her head, one pin at a time. She sighed in relief as they came out. Troy appeared in the mirror. He helped her take out the remaining pins, running his hands through her hair and moving down to knead her neck. She dropped her head back against him. “Ahh, God that feels good.” He leaned forward and kissed the curve of her neck. “Oh, it’s going to get better,” he nipped at her ear, “Much, much better.” He slowly unzipped her dress and let it pool at her feet. With her toe, she slid it away. “Oh man.” He said. His sister made her wear the lingerie, it was lacy and delicate, leaving little to the imagination. It contained small scraps of lace tied with little pieces of string and balanced by thigh high fishnet stockings. Lots of skin complemented the outfit. Jo didn’t consider herself a sexy woman, but when Troy got that expression in his eyes, she didn’t doubt her power. He looked ready to devour her. “Your sisters made me wear them,” she confessed. His hands made short work of the ties holding the tiny scraps of lace together, gently unraveling them. The anticipation was killing her. She wanted to rip off the lace and jump on top of him. She was still shocked at how incredibly lucky she was to have him. “Thanks to my sisters.” He breathed against her neck, as he ran kisses down her shoulder, then let his tongue trail down her skin. She shivered in arousal. He reached forward and cupped her breasts, lightly pinching and squeezing. Jo’s heart began to trip a beat at a time, boom, boom, boom. He always stirred her this way, one touch, a kiss, or a look and she was his. Didn’t take much. “Troy.” She moaned. God, it felt good, he felt good. She gave herself to his hands. “Mrs. Vinstonie, do you need something?” he growled while he massaged her breasts. She smiled and basked in her new name. Mrs. Troy Vinstonie. It didn’t get any better than that. Did she need anything? What a joke. She needed him, anyway she could get him. “Has a ring to it doesn’t it—Mrs. Jo Vinstonie.” His hands traveled down, his fingers splayed out on her ribs. He pressed his hardened body against her. Felt so strange to be fully clothed, while he was dressed. The rub of his clothes against her skin heightened her arousal. His hands inched down, finally his fingers buried and rubbed against her vagina. She arched against him. She couldn’t have an orgasm with him fully dressed, didn’t seem right. “Take off your clothes.” She moaned as his fingers worked their magic, she could see them both in the mirror, so incredibly erotic to watch. Her light skin was flushed a rosy red. He was dark against her light, his enjoyment evident with the expression on his face. Pleasing her pleased him. “Oh I will, don’t worry, I’m only beginning.” He ignored her request and brought her tumbling into a sharp release, watching herself fall stimulated her further. “Ahhh.” Jo went boneless, anchoring herself against him. But he wasn’t done. He shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it. Jo met his gaze in the mirror as he began to undo

his shirt, button by button, his intent clear. No, he wasn’t done with her, not by any means. She turned and began to help him, suddenly eager to get him out of his clothes. She wanted to touch him, needed him naked. In a matter of seconds, he was undressed and she was on him in a flash, feasting on his chest, licking his nipples, then traveled down his body, until she reached his veined erection. She tested his patience with her mouth and tongue, nipping, licking she worshipped him, wetting him. He didn’t last long. “Christ.” He grabbed her and hauled her on top of the vanity. She clutched at him, holding herself to him. Stepping in he pulled her forward to the edge of the vanity and entered her in one fell swoop. He froze. “Ahhh, Troy,” she moaned. He felt so good, incredible, and so right. “I wanted to draw this out, but you made it impossible.” The strain in his voice evident. Jo met his stare. She reached up and caressed his face. “I love you,” she whispered. “Oh God, Jo, I love you too.” He began to move, driving her up again. She closed her eyes in ecstasy. “Jo, look at me.” He commanded. Surprised, she opened her eyes and met his gaze. “You’re mine now, my wife,” he stated as he drove in and out. She didn’t say anything. He seemed distressed by her silence. “Jo, say it. Say you’re mine,” he said, then stopped. Jo moaned in protest and met his possessive stare. What was it with men? Why did they always need a declaration? Saying nothing, she squeaked in protest when he shifted to slide out. “No.” She wrapped her legs around him. “Don’t you dare,” she warned, driving him back into her. “Say it,” he said, he leaned forward and claimed her mouth in a forceful kiss. Jo softened her lips and nibbled back, trying to calm him, appease him. It worked. “Say it… please.” He lost his stubborn possessiveness. Jo smiled and kissed him back. “I’m yours, Troy. One hundred and fifty percent yours. Lock stock and barrel. Now.” She anchored her foot on his ass and shoved. “Can we get this honeymoon moving?” she asked, her reward his continued thrusting. “Oh yeah.” He said as he sucked her neck, the combination of his movements driving her back up to the peak. “This honeymoon is going to move, babe, all night it’s going to move.” He promised.

Epilogue Four months later… “What does this color mean—purple? Was that on the instruction sheet?” she asked Olivia, who leaned over and studied the pregnancy test. Olivia stayed on after the wedding to help with the children, and never left. Okay by Jo, she loved her. “Oh… well… let me see,” Olivia grabbed the long instruction sheet. Unfolding, she laid the three-foot by three-foot square paper on the sink. Swatting the paper, Jo tried to keep it out of her face. Good god, was detailing everything necessary? It was a pregnancy test? The way the instructions read you would think she was trying to assemble a nuclear weapon. “You don’t know do you?” Jo pushed Olivia aside, who was absolutely no help at all, and ran her finger down the instruction sheet. “Well I thought I did, Jo, but there are so many instructions here,” she whined. “Christ,” Jo said as she read on and on… wait there it was. “Okay here’s a graph of some sort.” Olivia leaned down with her as they studied the chart. “Let’s see… blue… green… plus… minus… here it is.” She punched her finger on purple. “Purple with a plus.” She held up the stick. They both squinted. “Is that a plus?” she asked, Olivia leaned closer. “Um yeah, that’s a plus.” “Okay, okay, now we’re getting somewhere. I don’t know why the hell you had me do this anyway?” “Because you’ve been throwing up every morning for a week.” Olivia stated the obvious. Jo glared at her and went back to the instructions. She stopped. “Don’t you say a word of this to Troy,” she whispered, glancing around the bathroom. Heaving a loaded sigh, Olivia pointed to the instructions. “Get on with it, little sister.” Jo smiled and hugged her, kissing her on the cheek. “I love you, you know, despite the fact your constant bitching prompted me to do this,” Jo said. Olivia hugged her back and laughed. “I know,” she said. “Okay, back to the chart.” Jo turned the sheet. Of course it couldn’t be simple, she thought as she ran her finger down the columns of the graph. It had all these colors, and possible options with check marks and circles colored in back. She groaned. “Did you buy this test?” she asked Olivia, “Thought these things were supposed to be simple, fuck.” She cried out in frustration. Olivia grabbed the test and looked at it. “Well, it was on sale,” she exclaimed. Jo growled. “Of all the things to save money on Olivia, a pregnancy test is not it,” she yelled. Jo swiveled her head from side to side to make sure no one heard her outburst.

Olivia cringed and pushed her out of the way. “Well, it was two for one.” That was her excuse? “Olivia you’re going to kill me with your frugalness. Why the hell would I need two pregnancy tests?” If it wasn’t on sale, Olivia didn’t buy it. She leaned over Olivia’s shoulder. Olivia ran her right finger down the right side of the column and left down the left. “Got it.” She tapped her index finger. “What?” Jo held her breath and watched Olivia bring her hand her mouth to hide her expression. “What?” She forcefully turned her and peeled her hand from her mouth like a banana. “What?” she demanded, stomping her foot to emphasize her point. Breaking out in a huge grin Olivia screamed and threw herself into Jo’s arms. “You’re pregnant!” she yelled. Jo grunted and took her weight. She shook her head in wonder. Pregnant…pregnant. “Oh my god,” she said. She was sure she had just lost every bit of color in her face. Olivia leaned back. Besides the shock of finding out she was pregnant, Troy’s reaction scared her more. “What’s wrong?” Olivia asked. “Troy’s going to kill me. I have a fugitive raid downtown Oakland tomorrow.” “Yeah, I am going to kill you.” Olivia screamed and turned toward Troy who was casually leaning against the doorjamb of the bathroom. She didn’t let his posture fool her. He was pissed. Uh-O. “Guess you won’t be going on the raid tomorrow.” He stated the obvious. She didn’t know what he was thinking but his expression left no room for argument. “But…” He gave a pointed look to Olivia who scrambled from the bathroom, quicker than she could voice her name. Standing there, Troy crossed his arms. She waved the pregnancy test at him. “Guess what honey?” She tried to sound chipper. “Is that all you have to say? Did you even consider not going on that raid tomorrow?” She cringed and tried to save herself. “Umm… well… of course I did, sort of.” She lied and ran her hand over her neck while she stared at the floor. She didn’t lie very well to him. “You better re-evaluate you’re priorities, Mrs. Vinstonie,” he demanded. Jo bristled and prepared to battle with him, but she stopped… and really looked at him. He was so beautiful and protective. It was cute. After the news she had just received, she had no intention on going on the raid tomorrow. “Yes sir, re-prioritizing.” She saluted him and smiled. She could see him soften immediately, like a warmed marshmallow. They had discussed children, but she never thought it would be this soon. Surprise was her first reaction—she was on the pill—but some things were meant to be. She hoped he was happy, because she was. “Soooo,” she approached him and slid her body up to his, pressing against him. His hands fell around her waist, “You ready for one of your own, Dad?” He laid his cheek against hers. “Oh yeah, I’m ready…” he pressed his lips against hers and took. “I’m ready,” he whispered, tears glassing over his eyes. “I’m ready for anything you want to give me Jo, especially my child,” he said, his voice shaky.

“Good thing.” She laughed. “Damn good thing.” He chuckled and nuzzled her neck. “Soooo, can pregnant women have sex?” he asked as his hands slid her shirt up her ribs. “I don’t know about pregnant women but I sure as hell can,” she said, tugging her shirt off. She sighed when he stilled, his expression serious. “I love you, Jo. You are my courage, my world. Thank you.” His statement shocked her, intimate and heartfelt. She didn’t know what to say. She hugged him. “I love you, too.” “Let’s take that new baby for a ride.” She laughed and whooped when he swung her into his arms. “Yes, let’s,” she said. And they did. The End About the Author: I write sensual historical paranormal romance novels and some contemporary for Liquid Silver Books. If you love strong female characters, lots of action, sensual romance, then visit my site at www.RaeMonet.com.

Meet LSB Authors At Http://Lsbooks.Net We invite you to visit Liquid Silver Books http://lsbooks.com for other exciting literary erotica romances. Weekend Games—Chris Tanglen Destiny's Magick—Rae Morgan Love Lessons—Vanessa Hart Portal—Sydney Morgann Bittersweet—Louisa Trent Business or Pleasure…or Both?—Rae Morgan and Jasmine Haynes And many, many more!!