Accessory To Marriage

“It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

Trent’s arms slipped around her and he pulled her against the hard plane of his body. Against muscle and strength. She leaned back against the length of his body, trying to get as close to his warmth as she could.

She closed her eyes and soaked in the sensation. She remembered this. The moments in Trent’s arms. The lingering shadows of sweet memory. But her memories paled in comparison to having him here now. Surrounding her. The scent of him. The feel of him. The solid reality of him.

She could fight memories. She couldn’t fight this. She didn’t even want to. She needed him too much. Needed his warmth. Needed his strength. Needed him to make her safe. Make her whole.

Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,

Welcome to a brand-new year of exciting romance and edge-of-your-seat suspense. We at Harlequin Intrigue are thrilled to renew our commitment to you, our loyal readers, to provide variety and outstanding romantic suspense—each and every month.

To get things started right, veteran Harlequin Intrigue author Cassie Miles kicks off a two-book miniseries with State of Emergency. The COLORADO SEARCH AND RESCUE group features tough emergency personnel reared in the shadows of the rugged Rocky Mountains. Who wouldn’t want to be stranded with a western-born hunk trained to protect and serve?

Speaking of hunks, Debra Webb serves up a giant of a man in Solitary Soldier, the next installment in her COLBY AGENCY series. And you know what they say about the bigger they come the harder they fall…. Well, it goes double for this wounded hero.

Ann Voss Peterson takes us to the darkest part of a serial killer’s world in Accessory to Marriage. The second time around could prove to be the last—permanently—for both the hero and heroine in this gripping thriller.

Finally, please welcome Delores Fossen to the line. She joins us with a moving story of forced artificial insemination, which unites two strangers who unwittingly become parents…and eventually a family. Do not miss His Child for an emotional read.

Be sure to let us know how we’re doing; we love to hear from our readers! And Happy New Year from all of us at Harlequin Intrigue.

Sincerely,

Denise O’Sullivan

Associate Senior Editor

Harlequin Intrigue

Accessory to Marriage

Ann Voss Peterson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Ever since she was a little girl making her own books out of construction paper, Ann Voss Peterson wanted to write. So when it came time to choose a major at the University of Wisconsin, creative writing was her only choice. Of course, writing wasn’t a practical choice—one needs to earn a living. So Ann found jobs ranging from proofreading legal transcripts, to working with quarter horses, to washing windows. But no matter how she earned her paycheck, she continued to write the type of stories that captured her heart and imagination—romantic suspense. Ann lives near Madison, Wisconsin, with her husband, her toddler son, her border collie and her quarter horse mare.

Books by Ann Voss Peterson

HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE

579—INADMISSIBLE PASSION

618—HIS WITNESS, HER CHILD

647—ACCESSORY TO MARRIAGE

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Risa Madsen—When her sister falls into the hands of a serial killer, Risa must do everything in her power to save her—even rely on the man who broke her heart.

Trent Burnell—An FBI profiler, Trent left Risa to protect her from the evil of his world. But when that evil resurfaces in the form of Dryden Kane, Trent has no choice but to stay and fight. For himself. And for Risa.

Dryden Kane—A brutal serial killer bent on destroying those who have tried to destroy him.

Dixie Madsen Kane—A troubled young woman looking for love, Dixie believes she’s found her soul mate in Dryden Kane.

Pete Wiley—The bitter sergeant has it in for Risa and the FBI. How far will he go to prove his point?

Duane Levens—The bulky prison guard was on duty the night Dryden Kane escaped. Does he have something to hide?

John Rook—Is the police chief trying to be helpful, or does his interest have a more sinister purpose?

Farrentina Hamilton—The wealthy socialite loves the titillating danger of corresponding with a killer in prison. Would the thrill be even greater if she helped him get out?

Paul Hanson—The pompous prison warden wants his share of the Department of Corrections’ funding pie and prestige. Would he sabotage his own prison to get it?

To the accessories in my marriage: Carl and Gil Voss, always my biggest fans. And Ellie and Pete Peterson, thanks for raising my romantic hero.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Prologue

Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife…

Slamming on the brakes, Risa Madsen threw open her car door. She clambered out and raced through the parking lot toward the looming perimeter fence of the Grant Correctional Institution. Her heels pounded on the pavement in sync with the drumming of her pulse.

She had to stop this marriage from taking place. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—let Dixie throw her life away. She had to save her little sister.

And she was running out of time.

…to have and to hold…

The early afternoon sun glinted off strands of razor wire lining the top of the perimeter fence. Risa shivered as she ran. If it wasn’t for her, Dixie never would have sought out Dryden Kane. She never would have transferred her exhausting need for male approval from her father to Kane. She never would have become Kane’s willing victim.

…from this day forward…

Two guards stood at the gate. Stopping, Risa gulped air and struggled to subdue her panic. She focused on the bulky guard whose eyes held the look of a soul weary with confronting the evil of life. “Duane. Am I too late?”

“They already started, Professor.” He opened the gate and pulled her inside. “What took you so long?”

“Traffic. I got here as soon as I could.” If it hadn’t been for Duane’s call, she wouldn’t have made it at all. She wouldn’t have even known about the wedding.

He motioned for her to follow. “Hurry.”

Risa ran up the steps behind him. He threw open the door and led her through a metal detector and into the wide entrance hall of the prison’s main building.

…for richer or for poorer…

While a female guard patted her down and checked the inside of her shoes and the bottoms of her feet, Risa inhaled breath after breath of stale air into her hungry lungs. There never seemed to be enough air inside these walls. Nor enough light.

The perfect place for a man like Kane to live out the rest of his days.

Of course that was a thought she could never voice. In light of her profession, she was supposed to be supportive of Kane’s efforts toward rehabilitation. She was supposed to believe that through psychoanalysis he could overcome his horrible childhood and turn his life around. A part of her even wanted to believe it. But she couldn’t shake the cold feeling slithering over her skin every time she thought of his ice-blue eyes, his artful smirk.

The feeling of impending doom.

She knew where the feeling was coming from. Trent had planted this bias in her mind when he’d profiled Kane for the FBI. When he’d testified at Kane’s trial. When he’d helped put Kane in prison.

Everything always went back to Trent.

…for better or for worse…

She shook her head, trying to dislodge the litany of vows scrolling through her mind. She had to make it to the chapel in time. She had to prevent this travesty from taking place.

Security checks complete, she hurried after Duane. Barred doors slid open in front of them and clanged shut behind. Risa’s heart slammed against her ribs. She wanted to push past Duane and race for the chapel as fast as her feet would carry her. She wanted to grab Dixie and drag her out of this godforsaken place, kicking and screaming if need be.

She wished she could change the past. She wished Dixie wasn’t the needy, vulnerable girl she was. She wished she had never added Kane to her list of case studies. But wishing wouldn’t help Dixie. Only getting her out of this place, away from Kane would do that.

…in sickness and in health…

Finally Duane stopped in front of a plain steel door marked Chapel. “I hope to God you aren’t too late. For your sister’s sake.” He pushed the door open.

Risa squeezed past him and lunged inside.

Her sister stood in the corner of the chapel. Her bleached hair fell to her shoulders in platinum ringlets. At least fifty yards of lace and satin and frothy tulle flourished around her like French creme frosting. Her lipsticked mouth rounded. Her penciled brows arched in surprise. “Risa.”

Risa looked past Dixie and focused on the groom. The man was charming, almost boyish, with an endearing shyness and a down-home smile. Looking at him, one would imagine him to be a kind and gentle man, the perfect husband for a troubled girl like Dixie. But Risa knew differently.

Dryden Kane was a brutal serial killer.

She strode up the aisle toward her sister, toward Kane. Her hands hardened into fists by her sides.

Kane’s ice-blue eyes met hers. A smirk slithered over his thin lips. “Hey, sis. You here to welcome me into the family?”

A cold finger traveled up her spine.

“No?” His smirk grew wider. “Why not? Don’t tell me you’re jealous of your little sister. Do you hear that, Dix? She’s jealous of you.”

Dixie gazed up at him, beaming as if he’d just given her the prize of a lifetime.

Nausea swirled in Risa’s stomach. She wanted to think all men were redeemable. Curable. But looking into Kane’s emotionless blue eyes, she just couldn’t buy it. No, Trent was right. A man like Kane never changed. He manipulated. He terrorized. He killed. But he never changed.

And he’d found just the right ploy to manipulate her sister.

Kane leered down at Dixie as if she were a roasted leg of lamb seasoned just the way he liked. “Face it, sis. Dixie has triumphed where years of psychotherapy failed. Her love has made me a better person. A good person. She’s my soul mate. And you’re too late to change it now. We already said ‘I do.’”

The breath left Risa’s lungs in a whoosh.

Kane raised his eyes to meet hers and lowered one eyelid in a profane wink. “Dixie is my wife—until death do us part.”

Chapter One

Risa stared at the images flashing on the ten-o’clock news. Razor wire glinting in the sun. A fenced compound. An empty cell. The newscaster’s voice thundered in her ears like a death sentence. Her worst fear had become reality. Dryden Kane had escaped from prison.

Dixie.

Her throat constricted. The way Kane had leered at Dixie on their wedding day a month ago pounded at the back of her eyes. His taunting voice echoed through her mind. Until death do us part.

Kane would go straight to Dixie. And once he had his hands on her, he would kill her. Of this Risa had no doubt.

She scrambled to her feet and raced for the kitchen, her robe billowing out behind her. She’d been ready for bed when the terrifying story had come on the news. Now sleep was out of the question. Not until Kane was behind bars. Not until Dixie was safe. She grabbed the phone from the kitchen counter. Fingers shaking, she punched in Dixie’s number.

One ring…two rings…

She clenched the phone so tightly the plastic creaked. “Please, Dixie. Please be there.”

Three rings…four…

She threw down the phone and ran for the foyer, for the staircase leading to her bedroom. She had to get dressed. She had to find her purse, her car keys. She had to reach her sister before Kane did.

Her bare feet slapped the wood floor. She took the narrow steps two at a time, knocking the teddy bears decorating the stairs out of her way as she ran.

The doorbell’s chime echoed through her little bungalow.

She stopped dead at the sound. Her breath caught in her throat. Was it Dixie? The police?

She raced back down the stairs to the front door. She peered through the peephole. Her heart stuttered then seized. Clutching her robe closed with one hand, she unlocked the dead bolt and yanked the door open.

Trent scrutinized her from the darkness, his face all sharp angles and hard planes in the yellow glare of the porch light.

Risa’s heart started again, pumping hard enough to break a rib. She hadn’t seen him in two years, two long years, and she’d never dreamed she would be glad to see him again.

But she was.

His steel-gray gaze skimmed her face. His glower deepened. “You know, don’t you?”

A fresh surge of panic swelled up inside her. There was no time to lose. “I heard it on the news. We have to reach Dixie.”

“Damn. I didn’t want you to find out that way.”

She shook her head with frustration. The way she’d found out wasn’t important. “We have to reach Dixie before Kane does. He’ll kill her. I know he will. We have to hurry. She didn’t answer her phone.”

Trent paused. His gaze drilled into her.

Cold dread penetrated her bones. He knew something. Something she hadn’t seen on the news. Something horrible. She opened her mouth, but her voice wouldn’t work.

Trent reached out and grasped her arm as if preparing her for the blow. “Dixie’s with him,” he said. “We think she helped him escape.”

Risa’s head whirled. Oh God, Kane already had Dixie. He’d duped her into helping him escape, and now he had her. Until death do us part. Risa’s knees wobbled and she felt herself sinking.

Trent pushed his way into her house. Leading her to the antique bench in the foyer, he shoved teddy bears aside and deposited her on it.

Her mind stuttered. She shook her head and struggled against the pressure of his hand, the certainty of his pronouncement. No. It couldn’t be true. If Kane had Dixie, she was as good as dead. “Dixie can’t be dead. She can’t be. She just—”

“Rees.” His sharp baritone cut through her denials. He leaned over her, his face close to hers. “We don’t know that she’s dead. I don’t think she is.”

Her heart leaped at the hope in his words. Trent knew Kane better than anyone. That was why the FBI had sent him here. To find Kane. To save Dixie. “Then we have to find her. Now.” She struggled to stand.

Trent’s grip tightened, keeping her planted on the bench. “We will find her. But first I need you to get dressed. A police officer from Grantsville is on his way to pick you up. You need to go with him to the police station and answer some questions.”

“Grantsville?” Risa recognized the name of the small town a stone’s throw from the prison, but for the life of her, she didn’t see how going to the tiny Grantsville police station was going to do any good. “I don’t have time. We have to find Dixie. We’re running out of—”

“Rees. Look at me.”

She forced her eyes to focus on his face. A face full of strength and confidence and purpose. A face that, until a few minutes ago, she had never wanted to set eyes on again.

His gaze pierced her confusion like a well-honed blade. “I will find Kane, Rees. I did it before, and I’ll do it now. I’ll do everything in my power to bring Dixie out of this alive. I promise you that.”

Trent’s promises. She closed her eyes, blocking the sight of him. His riveting eyes. His hard, determined chin. God knows, he had broken promises to her in the past. But those were personal promises. Promises of marriage. Promises of a family. This one had to do with his work. This one was life and death. He would keep this one. He always kept his professional promises.

She opened her eyes and drew in a deep breath. “What will you do?”

“After the officer gets here, I’ll head to the prison. I want to go through Kane’s personal things, anything he left behind. Anything that will give me an idea of where he’s going and what he’s planning. Afterward I’ll meet you at the police station. The task force will be assembling there.”

“I’m going with you to the prison.”

Familiar shadows crept into the gray of his eyes. He straightened and turned away, as if to prevent her from seeing too much.

“I can help, Trent. I have insights into Kane that might be useful.”

He shook his head. The prismatic light from the fixture overhead played on silver threads sprinkled through his hair, making them sparkle like stars in a black night. “Go with the officer. Answer his questions. That’s how you can help. There’s no reason for you to go to the prison.”

She tightened her mouth into a determined line. “The police will be at the prison too, right? I can answer questions there. I need to go.”

He paced the length of the tiny foyer before he spun back to face her. His expression was guarded, his jaw clamped shut like an oyster with an entire pearl necklace to protect.

Old anger kindled inside her. She’d seen this look countless times before. Back when they were engaged to be married. Back when he’d withdrawn. Back when he’d shut her out of his life.

She shoved her resentment aside and concentrated on keeping her voice calm, her argument reasonable. “I’ve been heading up a study on criminal psychology. I’ve been to the prison dozens of times in the last year interviewing Kane and others. I have insights into—”

“I can’t invite you into the middle of a manhunt for a serial killer. Even if your sister is with him. It’s out of the question.”

Frustration pulsed at the back of her eyes, rapidly turning into a throbbing headache. They didn’t have time to argue about this. Dixie’s time was running out. Risa lurched to her feet. Her robe flared open, revealing her boxy flannel nightshirt, but she didn’t care. “Damn it, Trent. You’ve used victims’ family members to help in other cases. I know you have.”

“Not this time. Let the authorities take care of it. Let us do our jobs.” His voice was hard, final. But something soft hovered in his eyes. Something familiar. Protectiveness.

She balled her hands into fists. She wanted to pound them against his chest. She wanted to grab the lapels of his suit and shake him. She wanted to scream until she had no breath left in her body. Instead, she gritted her teeth, remembering his words the night he’d broken their engagement. The night he’d shredded her dreams.

Insight stabbed into her, sharp as a well-honed blade. She shook her head. “Unbelievable. You still think you’re protecting me from the ugliness of the world, don’t you?”

His back stiffened. Regret flickered in his eyes, but he didn’t argue with her. He never had. From the night he’d told her he couldn’t go ahead with their vows, he’d taken all the anger she’d thrown at him as if it were his penance for the pain he’d caused her. A punishment he knew he deserved.

But accepting punishment was beside the point. She didn’t want to punish him. She wanted him to understand. “I don’t need your protection. I’ve already met Kane. I’ve talked to him, interviewed him. And Dixie found my work so fascinating, she married the man, for crying out loud. I’m neck deep in the ugliness. I’m probably as tainted as you believe you are.”

A muscle worked along his jaw. “You might think you are, but you’re not. Not yet. And I won’t be responsible for your getting in any deeper. I’m not taking you with me.”

She bit back the caustic reply she wanted to hurl at him. Obviously words wouldn’t do any good. She would have to take matters into her own hands. Dixie needed her. And she wasn’t going to let anyone—especially not Trent Burnell—stand in her way. “Fine. I’ll drive myself to the prison. If the officer wants to ask me questions, he can meet me there. Or he can arrest me.” Clutching her robe closed, she ran up the stairs.

DAMN.

Listening to the soft thump of Rees’s footsteps climbing the stairs, Trent ran his gaze over the warm wood and creamy white walls of her foyer. Her collection of teddy bears scattered the staircase and bench and stared down at him from an ornate shelf. Their glossy black eyes twinkled knowingly in the overhead lights. He pulled his gaze from the bears, his skin prickling as if dozens of real eyes watched him, studied him, judged him.

Double damn.

He didn’t know how he’d hoped the meeting would go, but this wasn’t even close. That Rees wanted to help save Dixie from Kane—that she needed to help—didn’t surprise him in the least. But he’d hoped she would be satisfied with going to the police station and answering questions. He should have known better.

Simply answering questions wouldn’t be enough for her. Not Rees. Of course she would try to talk him into including her, and when he refused, she’d go barreling in on her own. He should have seen it coming. He should have done something, anything to head her off before she’d latched on to the idea of going to the prison. Before she’d dug in her heels.

He opened the door and stepped out onto the stoop. The gentle glow of the moon caressed an oak tree’s emerging leaves and sparkled off drops of dew in the well-tended lawn. Sweet scents of lilac and honeysuckle mixed with the tang of nearby spruce. Familiar smells of Wisconsin spring that would be embedded in his memory forever.

But in his memory, those sweet scents were impossible to separate from the hot odor of blood, the stench of decay and the evil of Dryden Kane.

That was the reality of his life. Death and decay and a killer on the loose. Not manicured lawns. Not teddy bears.

And certainly not someone as wholesome as Rees.

He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the soft, lavender scent of her, the rich, husky quality in her voice, the petite curves even that flour sack of a nightshirt couldn’t hide.

Damn. He had brought Dryden Kane into her life. He had infected her wholesome existence with evil. If it wasn’t for him, she wouldn’t have pursued the job at the University of Wisconsin, she wouldn’t have gone out of her way to include Kane in her study, and her sister wouldn’t have married the monster and helped him escape.

He had contaminated her life. And now her sister would probably die at Kane’s hands. And Rees’s world would crumble.

Guilt wrenched his shoulders and pounded at his skull. If only he had never taken the job in the FBI’s criminal profiling unit. If only he had never made that first trip to Wisconsin to search for the unknown subject who was kidnapping and killing coeds. If only he had never crawled into Kane’s twisted mind, become obsessed with the labyrinth he’d found and become as tainted as Kane himself. He and Risa would be married now. And her sister would be safe.

But “if only” didn’t do him a damn bit of good. He couldn’t change the past. And even if it were possible to travel back in time and relive those early days, he couldn’t change the decisions he’d made. To change the path his career had taken would mean killers he had helped put in prison or on death row would be free. Free to take more innocent lives. And he couldn’t live with that. Not for the sake of his own personal happiness. Not even for Rees.