“Who are you, really?”

“Bank robbers aren’t edgy and taciturn. They don’t make jokes. They don’t take hostages on the spur of the moment unless they’re trapped. And they’re certainly not considerate of their captives. You’re having way too much fun.” Her remarkable eyes narrowed. “I suspect you’ve got an agenda.”

“Relax. You’re safe with me. But the less you know, the better.”

“Let me guess. You could tell me, but then you’d have to kill me.” She glanced out the window, her conflicted body language telling him she wanted to believe him but didn’t quite dare.

Dear Reader,

As always, Silhouette Intimate Moments is coming your way with six fabulously exciting romances this month, starting with bestselling Merline Lovelace, who always has The Right Stuff. This month she concludes her latest miniseries, TO PROTECT AND DEFEND, and you’ll definitely want to be there for what promises to be a slam-bang finale.

Next, pay another visit to HEARTBREAK CANYON, where award winner Marilyn Pappano knows One True Thing: that the love between Cassidy McRae and Jace Barnett is meant to be, despite the lies she’s forced to tell. Lyn Stone begins a wonderful new miniseries with Down to the Wire. Follow DEA agent Joe Corda to South America, where he falls in love—and so will you, with all the SPECIAL OPS. Brenda Harlen proves that sometimes Extreme Measures are the only way to convince your once-and-only love—and the child you never knew!—that this time you’re home to stay. When Darkness Calls, Caridad Piñeiro’s hero comes out to…slay? Not exactly, but he is a vampire, and just the kind of bad boy to win the heart of an FBI agent with a taste for danger. Finally, let new author Diana Duncan introduce you to a Bulletproof Bride, who quickly comes to realize that her kidnapper is not what he seems—and is a far better match than the fiancé she was just about to marry.

Enjoy them all—and come back next month for more of the best and most exciting romance reading around, right here in Silhouette Intimate Moments.

Yours,

Leslie J. Wainger

Executive Editor

Bulletproof Bride
Diana Duncan

www.millsandboon.co.uk

DIANA DUNCAN

Diana Duncan’s fascination with books started before she could walk, when her librarian grandmother toted her to work. Diana crafted her first tale at age four, a riveting account of Perky the Kitten, printed in orange crayon. The discovery of her mom’s Harlequin Romance novels at age fourteen sparked a lifelong affection for plucky heroines and dashing heroes. She loves writing about complex, conflicted men and strong, intelligent women with the courage to dive into the biggest adventure of all—falling in love.

When not writing stories brimming with heart, humor and sizzling passion, Diana spends her time with her husband, two daughters and two cats in their Portland, Oregon, home. Diana loves to hear from her readers. She can be reached via e-mail at writedianaduncan@msn.com or snail mail at P.O. Box 33193, Portland, OR 97292-3193.

For Berny. Who shanghaied me on a wild and crazy adventure—the best time of my life. Thanks, kiddo. Your unshakable faith dared me to dream.

For Darol, Danielle and Natalie. Who ate canned, frozen and takeout until it came out their ears, and went without clean socks and sometimes my time and attention—with nary a complaint. Thanks, gang.

Your love and support enabled me to pursue the dream.

For Cindy and Deb. Who dried my tears, cheered every small step—and, when necessary, kicked my fanny.

Thanks, sistas. Without your encouragement, there would be no books. You made the dream a reality.

I love you all.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 1

“You have stolen my heart with just one glance of your eyes.”

—The Song of Songs

“Another bad omen. You have to call off the wedding!”

Tessa Beaumont glanced up from her desk in alarm as her best friend and maid of honor, Melody Parrish, stormed into Tessa’s office at Oregon Pacific Bank, a large garment bag flung over one shoulder. Tessa’s stomach pitched. What now? “Mel? What’s wrong?”

Her sapphire eyes snapping, Melody shoved the door closed with her foot. “Every time you progress with your wedding plans, something terrible happens. A freak fungus down south wiped out the orchid farm. Your photographer slipped on a stray gefilte fish at a bar mitzvah and broke his arm. The caterer went belly-up after food poisoning flattened three hundred gastroenterologists at a hospital benefit.”

“Coincidences,” Tessa soothed, setting her paperwork aside in a neat pile. “Stuff happens. And we found replacements.”

Melody thrust the garment bag under Tessa’s nose. “You think so? Well, maybe this will convince you.”

Tessa glanced at the clock. It was after 1:00 p.m. They’d been two tellers short all week, and she hadn’t taken a break or even lunch in days. She rose and circled the desk. “Ten minutes, then I have to get back to work.”

Mel unzipped the bag. With a flourish, she whipped out two dresses and hung them on the brass coat rack beside the door. “I hope you haven’t eaten.”

Tessa’s jaw dropped. Speechless, she stared at the ugliest ruffled white monstrosity she’d ever seen, accompanied by a hideous bluish-purple bridesmaid’s dress. “Wha—what’s that?”

“Lucille changed your order. Imagine my surprise when I picked up our dresses today.”

“Oh, no!” Tessa hurried over to finger one of the hundreds of flounced organza ruffles on the horrible bridal gown. “I’ll look like a refugee from Gone With The Wind. A hoop skirt, for Pete’s sake. One misstep, and I’d give a whole new meaning to the term flash photography.”

“Not if you were Little Bo Peep.” Mel snickered. “At least your fashion holocaust is white. My ‘elegant eggplant’ number looks like a black eye. What was Lady Stalin thinking?”

“I don’t know, but she went too far this time.” With quick, efficient movements, Tessa zipped the awful dresses back into the bag. “These are going right back. I jumped at Lucille’s offer to help with the wedding because my mother couldn’t care less. But I refuse to let her bulldoze me.”

“Yeah. Your future mother-in-law has the personality of a Zamboni.”

“Well that’s no reason to meekly lie down and let her shave my…ah…ice.” Tessa tucked a wayward auburn curl into the gold clip at the nape of her neck. “I hope the bridal shop can deliver our original choices in less than two weeks.”

Her friend grew somber. “That’s the least of your worries. You know, you still have plenty of time to change your mind.”

Tessa winced. “You think I should? I chose the candlelight empire satin gown because of the high waist, but I was afraid my big caboose sticks out way too far anyway.”

“You’ve been comparing yourself with the models in those bride’s magazines again, haven’t you? There is nothing wrong with your butt.” Mel sighed. “Not the gown. The wedding. Please don’t marry Dale just because you think he’ll give you the security you crave. Do you really want to spend the next twenty years trying not to rock the boat with Lucille?”

For a moment, the only sound was the muted hum of voices from the outer lobby. Then Tessa shuddered and forced a strained laugh. “You know better than to mention boats to me.”

“Don’t change the subject. You don’t really love him. Admit it.”

“I do love him. For two years, Dale has been my closest friend, besides you. The wild, passionate version of ‘love’ is just an attack of raging hormones. Ten minutes of pleasure—a lifetime of consequences. My mother for instance—”

“Yeah, you had a new ‘uncle’ every time you phoned home, but Vivienne is a bad example. Lots of actresses have revolving doors on their bedrooms.”

But Vivienne’s unfaithfulness had caused the death of the only person who had ever loved Tessa. Her dad. Her mother’s flighty lifestyle was the reason Tessa had chosen a financial career. Numbers never lied, never changed and never let you down. “Dale and I are perfect together. He’s an accountant and I’m a banker. We both enjoy books, music and playing in Lucille’s charity concerts.”

Mel snorted, making her short blond locks bounce. “I admit, I’ve never had a relationship longer than two dates, so I’m the last person to give advice. But don’t settle for blue-eyed bland. You deserve the best.”

“Maybe Dale isn’t as exciting as 007, but he’s loyal, responsible and sweet, and he loves kids. I’m getting my heart’s desire.” She frowned. “In two weeks, I’m going to marry Dale and have a family of my own. Children to cuddle. A dog shedding hair on the carpet. Noisy, bustling holidays. And nothing on this earth will stop me.”

“Okay, have it your way. I just don’t want you to wake up in thirty years and realize you’ve wasted your whole life with a man who doesn’t trip your trigger.”

Tessa chuckled. “Gee, don’t hold back. What do you really think?”

“After twenty years, you’re more than my best friend—you’re like my sister. We’ve been soul mates since our teary eyes met that first awful day of boarding school and I want you to be happy.”

“No tears, see? I am happy. Very happy. Everything is on track and according to plan.” She glanced at the clock again and a groan slipped out. “Except I’m out of time. Trask has been on my case all week because we’re so far behind. And he’ll relish throwing it in my face at the promotion interview.”

“He’s lucky to have you. Any woman who alphabetizes her spices and arranges her canned goods by expiration date is a pillar of organization.” Mel grabbed both Tessa’s hands in hers. “I’m telling you, this dress fiasco is another sign. Mark my words, Tessie, Dale is not your destiny. If you don’t wise up, The Man Upstairs will resort to something drastic.”

Her friend’s pronouncement resonated in the throbbing pulse at Tessa’s temples. Dale is not your destiny.

A shiver crawled up her spine. She shoved the eerie feeling aside. Practical and steady, she didn’t believe in destiny. A person made her own fate, and her course was perfectly charted and firmly set. She wouldn’t let anything thwart her lifelong dream for a family and security. Not now, not when it was finally within her reach. Tessa gave her friend a reassuring smile. “It’ll be fine. Everything will run smooth and well-oiled from now on, you’ll see.”

The door flew open and her vault teller, Carla, burst inside. “Sorry to interrupt, but everything just went to hell. We’ve got customers lined up to the door. The cash shipment arrived, and needs to be verified. The kiosk ATM isn’t working again, the newbie on window three is having a panic attack, and Darcy went home with that flu that’s going around.” She groaned. “Oh, and Mr. Trask pitched a fit because he didn’t get your weekly report yet. He wants it ASAP.”

Tessa sighed. As operations supervisor, her job was to ensure the branch ran efficiently, especially during Mr. Trask’s frequent absences. With customers up the wazoo and another teller gone, she’d have to keep Carla at a window and manage the vault herself. That meant spending an hour after work trapped in the vault counting stacks of bills. And she had a dinner date with Dale and Lucille to discuss wedding plans. At the thought of confronting Lucille, her heart sank. According to Modern Day Bride, newlyweds fought about three major topics: money, sex and in-laws. She grimaced. Her hopes to be the exception didn’t look promising.

“Give the newbie a pat on the back, tell her to take a deep breath and focus on one thing at a time. Then go back to your window. I’ll count the cash.”

Carla shook her head. “That’s my job. You’ve already got your hands full.”

“Maybe so, but I need you out front.”

“Don’t you think you should go out front? That newbie looks pretty shaky, and with Darcy sick, we’re now three tellers short. And don’t forget, today is payday for the biggest companies in town. I’d better do the count.”

Tessa frowned. Carla usually obeyed without question. “Exactly why you belong at a station. I’ll get it done as fast as possible, and I can pop out if needed in the meantime.”

“But—wait—” Carla’s brown eyes widened in near panic.

“I know how much you despise manning a window, but it can’t be helped. Buzz if you need me.”

Her face clouded with reluctance, Carla departed, and Tessa turned to Mel. “I’ve gotta run.”

“Yeah, I know. Trask is such a bozo!” Mel huffed. “He’s always gone, and he works you like a six-handed cherry picker while stalling your promotion for months.” The tiny blonde planted her hands on her hips. “For five bucks, I’ll take him out for you. Lucille, too. I learned two killer moves in kickboxing class last week. I’d do it for free, but I’m dead broke.”

In spite of her exasperation, Tessa chuckled. “You might have defended me all through boarding school, but I’m a big girl now. I’ll work things out with Trask and Lucille. Negotiation and logic.”

“Negotiation and logic. Right. And sometimes, a good swift kick in the chops.” Mel picked up the garment bag. “I’ll return these and demand the originals back. I wouldn’t have accepted them in the first place, but I knew you’d have to see ’em to believe ’em.” With a wave, she headed out the door. “Bye. And think about what I said, okay?”

“I doubt I’ll have time to breathe, much less think.” Her friend left, and Tessa’s stomach grumbled, reminding her she’d gone without lunch. Again. Since she had to stay late, she needed something to keep her on her feet. She rushed to the break room and gobbled two stale chocolate doughnuts before hustling into the vault.

Inside the locked room, she cut the first bag’s seal to remove a bound package of twenties and then placed it in the money counter. The machine whirred as the crisp bills spilled into a neat rectangle. Humming “Jailhouse Rock,” she picked up the next package.

The process went smoothly until the very last package, when she found a number of client payroll checks mixed in with the cash. How odd. Frowning, she flipped through the pile. The checks amounted to fifty thousand dollars and belonged in the main vault downstairs.

She had to report this serious security breach immediately.

After replacing the checks in the bag, she stepped out of the vault. An eerie silence shrouded the room, everyone frozen in place. “What’s going—”

The sight of a tall man in black, his face concealed behind a black quilted nylon ski mask choked off her words. With a sick, breathless lurch, her stomach bottomed out. She had just stepped into the middle of a robbery.

Gabriel Colton watched the vault gate swing closed. The faint click echoed like a gunshot through the hushed lobby. He sized up the woman frozen in the doorway. The baggy cut of her plain brown suit nearly disguised her curvy figure, and her long chestnut curls were clasped at the nape of her neck in a conservative ponytail. This little kitten wouldn’t give him any trouble.

Then his eyes locked with her sharply intelligent gaze, her golden-brown eyes wide with horror. A jolt of recognition slammed into him. For a split second, his concentration splintered. Impossible. He’d never even seen her before. He shook his head to clear it. “You the vault teller?” he snarled in his best bad-guy voice.

Her face blanched fish-belly white and she nodded.

Man, he hoped she wasn’t about to pass out on him. “Get the cash delivery.” His jaw clenched at the fear shimmering in her big amber eyes, but he didn’t have time to reassure her. He needed to grab the goods and get out.

She stood rooted to the spot, stunned and staring.

Feeling as low-down as the guy who shot Bambi’s mother, he dropped his voice to a menacing rumble. “Now! Move it, sister!”

Kitten squared her shoulders. Color flooded her cheeks. She raised her chin and shot him such a blazing glare he needed asbestos boxer shorts. He got the message loud and clear.

Uh-oh. His kitten had morphed into a lioness. No heroics, sweetheart. Please. He glared at her. “Do it!”

She hurried inside, quickly returning with six canvas bags. She stalked toward him and tossed the bags at his feet.

Gabe reached for the money, but the sight of the cut seals brought him up short. Damn! This operation was going to hell on a torpedo. “Did you look through these?”

After a heartbeat’s hesitation, she nodded. Then understanding flashed across her face.

He was too late. She must have seen the checks! Gabe assessed the situation with the speed of experience and reacted on instinct. His gloved hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, hauling her up against him. She stiffened. “Pick them up,” he growled into her ear. As she complied, her softly rounded bottom brushed intimately against his groin and her warm vanilla fragrance teased his senses. He shook his head. Get a grip, Colton, before all your brains rush south and get you killed.

What the hell was wrong with him? He never lost his focus. Ever. Especially not over a woman. Consciously tempering his strength, he yanked her out the entrance, hustled her to his black Corvette, and flung open the driver’s side door.

His captive tried to wrench free. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry, sweetheart. You’re now my hostage.”

“No!” Her elbow stabbed his solar plexus.

The breath slammed out of his lungs. Gabe lost his grip and she slipped under his arm. She sprinted toward the bank and he lunged, grabbing her jacket to yank her back. “Nice try.” He shoved her into the car, tossing the money behind the seat.

She tried to climb out. “I can’t be your hostage. I have an important appointment this evening.”

He frowned. Poor Kitten probably didn’t even realize what she was saying. Damn, he hated scaring her, but if she knew anything and he left her behind, she was dead. He pushed her back inside and threw himself into the seat. As he twisted the key, she scrambled away from him, over the console.

“I won’t hurt you,” he attempted to reassure her. Sirens screamed, and the sweet, heady rush of adrenaline glittered through his veins. He grinned. A conscientious employee had tripped the alarm. Now life was getting interesting. Exactly the way he liked it. He turned to his wide-eyed passenger. “Fasten your seat belt.” The engine roared, and he tore out of the parking lot.

The ski mask interfered with his vision, and he ripped the mask and gloves off. He’d deal with the repercussions of letting her see his face later. Right now, he had to get them out of here in one piece. He wasn’t about to add either of their names to the long list of casualties on this one. His foot slammed down on the gas pedal.

“Hey!” his captive squeaked. “You’re running the red lights!”

“No kidding.” Chuckles burst out of him. “A traffic citation is the least of my worries, honey.”

“You’ve committed robbery, don’t add kidnapping,” she said in a reasonable tone, though her shaky voice gave away her panic. “You’re lengthening your sentence by at least five years. Let me go. Please.”

“No time to explain. I’m taking you for your protection.” He ignored the screaming sirens behind them. The ’Vette responded to his touch like a familiar lover as he wove from side to side. Revved up to sixty, the car screeched around a corner. He skidded and spun into another sharp turn and they nearly rocked up on two wheels.

A moan leaked out of his passenger and Gabe glanced over at her. Stiff and unmoving, she clutched the armrest like a life preserver, her face a bilious pea-green. Unless he missed his guess, she was about to yodel in living Technicolor. “You okay?”

“Motion sick,” she murmured through white lips.

Wonderful. Just what he needed. “Take deep breaths.” He stabbed the window button. Fresh air. Get the lady some fresh air.

The window slid down and Tessa leaned out like a wind-drunk poodle, gulping in cool autumn air. She clung to the armrest, fighting her terror and the nausea pitching in her stomach. This was all a crazy nightmare. Any minute, she’d wake up, call Mel and have a good laugh. Right after she threw up. Distraction—she needed a distraction.

The police would want a description. She forced together her scattered concentration and studied her captor. Six foot one, around a hundred and ninety pounds. All hard, male muscle in a black jacket, T-shirt and snug jeans. His thick black hair was cut military-short at the sides and back and left just long enough in front to stand straight up. Long, sooty lashes fringed light-colored eyes. She couldn’t see the shade in profile and the slits in the ski mask had concealed them in deep shadow before.

The shifting light played over a tanned classical face with strong cheekbones and a Roman nose. His sculpted lips were quirked in a smile over even white teeth and his square chin cradled a dimpled cleft in the center. Her gaze followed his wide shoulders downward. His lean, tanned hands—musician’s hands—controlled the wheel with grace and power.

She knew firsthand how much strength those hands possessed.

Suddenly his eyes narrowed and he sucked in a sharp breath.

She jerked her gaze to the front. A thousand yards ahead, two police cars charged toward them, blocking both lanes and thwarting their escape. She was saved! But instead of slowing down, the bank robber shifted gears, his muscled thigh tensing beneath the tight denim as he stomped on the gas. The car leapt forward at a blood-curdling speed. “What are you doing?” she yelled.

An unholy grin of pure joy split his face. He looked like he was having the time of his life! “Playing chicken.”

Was he insane? Dumb question. He’d robbed a bank and was attempting to outrun the cops in a high-speed pursuit. Of course he was insane. Fear clutched at her chest as they closed the distance with incredible speed. Stay calm. Humor him. Wrestling down her dread, she tried negotiation. “Do you know how unlikely that is to work?”

He chuckled. “Never tell me the odds.”

“Han Solo.”

“Huh?” He flicked a quick, puzzled glance at her.

Common sense told her to shut up. Screaming nerves made her babble on. “You’re quoting Han Solo.”

“You are one nutty broad.” The handsome felon shook his head. “Don’t worry, I know exactly what I’m doing. They’ll blink.”

Obviously he was delusional, too. So much for negotiation. She gripped the dash with fingers gone numb. Her entire body felt numb. Her mind struggled in slow motion, her thought processes clogged by fear. For heaven’s sake, talk your way out of this. Logic. Logic never failed her. “Have you tried this demented maneuver before?”

“Yep, twice.”

“And it worked?”

He urged the car even faster. “Not the first time.”

Tessa took a fortifying breath. “And the second?”

He chuckled. “I’ll let you know in about five seconds.”

The car rocketed forward, the tires skimming over the highway. The force pushed her back against the seat. Tessa stared at the police cars hurtling toward them and her stomach rolled, bitter bile rising up in her throat.

Her life flashed before her eyes in a horrifying squeal of tires and blaring horns.

The thief’s deep laugh rang out. “See? No problem.”

“Who are you, the Angel of Death?” she croaked. Her stomach lurched in warning. “Oh, no.” Frantic, her gaze spun wildly around the car.

The robber glanced at her and groaned. “Here we go.”

The car was swept clean, nothing to get sick in. Her desperate gaze locked on the money bags behind his seat. If she could get one open in time…

“Oh, no you don’t. I need that. Uncontaminated.” He thrust the ski mask at her.

She snatched the quilted cap and turned away from him, mightily regretting those chocolate doughnuts. After several horrible minutes, she felt much better. Holding the ruined mask between two fingers, she looked at the door handle, then at the scenery flashing by. “Um…”

“No evidence.” His right hand reached past her to open the glove compartment.

She deposited her burden and slammed the door. Out of sight, but definitely not out of mind. She heaved a short-lived sigh of relief. One problem solved. Kind of. She glared warily at her captor. Served him right for driving like the lunatic he was.

She glanced into the side mirror at the empty street behind them. Her kidnapper had evaded the police. Her heart stumbled into an uneven gait.

She was on her own.

Chapter 2

The thief pulled over in front of a warehouse in a run-down neighborhood. A fresh rush of adrenaline surged through Tessa. Now that they’d stopped rocketing through space at warp speed, maybe she could escape. Negotiation and logic were out. Time to try Mel’s swift kick in the chops, or anywhere else she could manage. As her captor exited the car, she tensed, waiting for an opportunity.

He sauntered around to open her door, offering his hand.

Now or never. Make your move. Heart pounding, she leapt out, rammed the door into him and tore down the sidewalk.

She made it five yards before his arm snaked around her waist and yanked her against his hard body. Even as her mad dash for freedom crashed and burned, his clean male scent invaded her senses, and she blinked away dizziness. Who knew a wild-and-crazy bank robber would smell so good?

“That door hit a little too close to my favorite part of my anatomy, honey. Unless you want to find yourself bound and gagged, chill out.” But his silky threat sounded more amused than angry. For a bank robber, he seemed amazingly easygoing.

He marched her into the building. Every nerve ending she possessed jittered in alarm, making her breathing much too rapid. Hold it together. Stay alert, you’ll get another chance to escape. They climbed three flights of broken stairs and then her captor followed her down a gloomy corridor. He lifted the bar on a steel door and the screech of rusted metal echoed in the hallway.

The fine hairs on the back of her neck prickled, then stood on end as she reluctantly preceded him into a large, dim room. A storage facility from the looks of it.

The robber grasped the back of a dusty wooden chair. “Sit,” his deep voice ordered.

Annoyance burned away some of her trepidation. Who did this cretin think he was, anyway? “I am not a dog,” she huffed.

His chuckle rumbled out again. “Plant yourself in the chair. Pretty please,” he added in a sugary tone.

Seeing no other choice, she obeyed. Behind her, his jacket rustled. Aware of her vulnerable position, she stiffened, her short choppy breaths not conveying nearly enough oxygen to her lungs. So far, her captor had been good-natured and surprisingly gentle. Even when he’d used his superior strength to control her, she’d sensed him holding back. But what would he do now that he had her alone, and at his mercy?

Without warning, his hands gripped her shoulders. In spite of herself, she flinched.

“Easy.” His voice moved closer to her ear. “I’m not going to hurt you.” His low reassurance slid out, rich and mellow.

His deep baritone wrapped around her like the hot darkness of a sultry summer night, blanketing her uneasiness in warmth. A tingling ripple spiraled up her spine, sparking a shiver.

“Are you cold?”

Her muddled thoughts focused on his question and she shook her head. Tense, jumpy and anxious, you bet. But whatever unfamiliar mixed cocktail of emotions had made her shiver, she wasn’t cold.

“Listen up. I’ve got some loose ends to deal with. I should tie and gag you….”

Her every muscle clenched. Over my dead body!

He gently squeezed her shoulders. “But I won’t. There’s no way out, and if you’ve got any brainy ideas about screaming for help, eighty-six them. Any ‘help’ you attract in this neighborhood won’t be the kind you want. I’ll be back soon. You’ll be safe if you stay put and don’t do anything stupid. Got it?”

She nodded. As he walked away, she heard the whisper of clothing. The door creaked open and then slammed shut. The bar clanked into place, leaving her alone in the gloomy silence.

Relief swirled through her. Like a dream, a sense of unreality clouded her mind. Crazy surprises didn’t happen to Tessa Beaumont. She kept her life ordered, predictable and controlled. Being kidnapped was not scheduled in her planner in neat script—blue for daily schedule, green for appointments and red for urgent matters.

What would happen when the thief returned? He’d said he wasn’t going to hurt her, and so far, he’d kept his word. But rule number one in the Deranged Kidnappers’ Handbook was probably, “Keep the victim calm and obedient.” Unfortunately, she’d been too busy with wedding plans to take that kickboxing course with Mel last month.

Though the roguish robber seemed more than capable of handling a whole class of self-defense graduates. With his looks, one of his sunny smiles was enough to disarm any female between nine and ninety. Glowing with a combination of sensuality and mischief, his infectious grin had incited a flood of response deep inside.

Tessa straightened. What was wrong with her? The shock must have unhinged her mind. No way would she meekly wait for him in this dump like an expired certificate of deposit.

As if to drive home the thought, rustling and sharp squeaks erupted from the corner. She gulped. Rats? Yelping, she scrambled onto the chair, her gaze skittering around the room.

Bundled newspapers littered the floor and three cardboard boxes leaned drunkenly in a corner. Not much to aid a jailbreak, but a small window high on the opposite wall offered some hope.

In one of Tessa’s favorite movies, Goldie Hawn thwarted kidnappers by climbing out a window to the fire escape. But even if Tessa could reach the narrow window, it promised a tight fit. She mentally compared the window to her hips, glad she’d skipped lunch.

After a hesitant glance at the now-quiet corner, she stepped down, and dragged the chair over. Even with the added height, the sill was out of reach.

As her gaze lingered on the cardboard boxes, an idea formed. Tessa grabbed newspapers and dumped them inside a box. She lifted the filled box onto the chair before fetching another carton and more papers. Papers with raggedly chewed edges. A shudder rippled through her. She lifted another stack and uncovered a pile of droppings. Ugh! Inspired to work even faster, she finished the last box and stacked it on top of the others, then stood back to assess her makeshift ladder. Not bad.

Sucking in a breath, she hiked up her long skirt to climb onto the wobbly pile. Her head now reached the bottom of the sill. A grin creased her face. She could do this! Her jacket hampered her movements, and she had to unbutton it in order to pull herself up and peer out the grimy panes.

Her fingers tightened on the sill as her hopes unraveled. No fire escape. “What now, Goldie?” she muttered.

Refusing to knuckle under to despair, her gaze swept the outside of the building. A drainpipe bolted to the bricks with metal brackets ran clear to the ground like a miniature ladder. Her palms grew slick with perspiration. The rusty pipe looked much too fragile for her peace of mind.

More squeaks and shuffles burst from the corner and a rat the size of a house cat skittered across the floor. She shrieked and tried to scrabble onto the windowsill, but her calf-length skirt and flapping jacket made gymnastics impossible.

She had no choice. Teetering on the swaying boxes, she stripped off her suit. Nothing would stop her from going out that window now. Not with a pack of giant rodents eager to tear her to shreds. She’d never be able to climb wearing her slippery half slip, thigh-high stockings and pumps, so they came off, too. She tied her clothing and shoes into a bundle.

Dressed in a purple satin bra and matching panties, she clamped the bundle between her teeth, levered her knees up onto the sill, and shoved open the filthy, peeling window frame. The alley below was empty, so she dropped her clothes to the ground before shimmying out the opening headfirst.

Her stomach jittering, she stretched out her arms, grabbed the pipe and swung over. With sweaty hands and shaking limbs, she clung to the slender pole, the only thing between her and a three-story fall. If this were a movie, she’d be at the police station drinking a cup of coffee with Chevy Chase by now. “Don’t look down,” she muttered, and began to hum to boost her courage. She arched her foot and felt for the first bracket, gingerly testing her weight. It held! Inch by terrifying inch, she climbed down.

She stepped onto the asphalt and pumped her arms in a victory salute. “Yes!” she crowed. Now, to get her clothes, find a phone, and call the police.

“Going somewhere?” a silky male voice asked.

Tessa’s heart bucked and then lurched into an unsteady gait. She whirled, her arms shielding her half-naked torso.

Her handsome captor leaned against the wall with her bundle of clothes dangling from one finger. A wide, wicked grin lit up his face. “A tad informally dressed for an escape, aren’t we?”

Clear, cool, rain-forest-green eyes sparkling with amusement studied her intently. Her breath hitched in her throat. The world stopped, frozen, as she fell into those jade depths. Realization hit. Caught. Again. Half naked. Her body went ice cold. Then heat whipped into her face.

“You could have died during that gutsy stunt,” he drawled.

“Rats.” She wrapped her arms around herself and scowled at him to disguise her apprehension. He’d told her to stay put. Would he punish her for trying to flee? “You locked me in there with giant killer rats.”

His lips twitched. “I didn’t know about the mutant rats. Sorry.” He thrust her clothes at her. “Get dressed.”

She snatched the bundle from him, and Gabe turned to give her some privacy, chuckling to himself. He wouldn’t have missed that for a million bucks. Dressed in purple skivvies, with a halo of chestnut curls rioting over her shoulders, clutching the drainpipe for dear life and humming “Be My Teddy Bear” at the top of her lungs, Kitten should have looked ridiculous.

But she hadn’t. She’d looked sexy as hell. Desire snaked through him, heating his blood. He wanted to run his fingers through her thick, shiny curls. Kiss those luscious pink lips. Cup her generous breasts in his palms—

Whoa! Where did that come from? She’s your prisoner, Colton, and under your protection. You might have taken her hostage, but that’s all you’re taking.

“I’m dressed.” Her indignant voice broke into his thoughts, again only a slight tremor revealing her distress. In spite of the fact that she had to be terrified, she was a pretty cool customer. Not to mention her ingenious jail break. If he’d arrived two minutes later, she’d be nothing but a memory. His admiration grew, encompassing not only her physical attributes, but her mental ones as well. He must be losing his mind.

With confusion throbbing in his temples, he gripped her arm. “Come on, Houdini.” He hustled her down the alley to a gray Jag and helped her inside before climbing in himself.

“You changed vehicles.”

The engine roared to life and Gabe maneuvered out of the alley. “Very observant. Yes, this is a Jaguar XK8, and you’ll never find a sweeter ride. Except…” He grinned at her. “One other.” She scowled at him again and Gabe chuckled. Damn, she was cute when she scrunched up her nose like that. He fished a bottle of motion sickness pills out of his pocket and tossed the vial to her. “Take a couple of these. I don’t have any more ski masks, and we’re in for a long drive. There’s soda in the cooler behind your seat and some sandwiches if you’re hungry.”

“Look, you seem reasonably intelligent.” She’d regained control over her voice, but a lingering edge of apprehension clouded her lovely eyes. “Be sensible and let me go. You can move faster, and the police won’t hunt you as intensely without a hostage.”

“What’s your name?”

She eyed him warily. “Tessa.”

Gabe shifted gears and the car roared past an oil truck. “For your own protection, I can’t turn you loose. Unfortunately, you’ve stumbled into a bad situation, which I can’t explain.” He wished he could. But if he could find out how much she knew and still keep her in the dark, he might be able to safely release her. For her sake, he hoped so. The scum he’d just thwarted with his rip-off played for keeps, and they’d already left too many bodies in their wake. Whether either of them liked it or not, Gabe had been thrust into the role of guardian angel. He covered her hand with his. “I’m Gabriel. Call me Gabe.”

She slapped his hand away. “Keep your hands to yourself. So, who are you, really? Bank robbers are edgy and taciturn, they don’t make jokes. They don’t take hostages on the spur of the moment unless they’re trapped. And they’re certainly not considerate of their captives. You’re having way too much fun.” Her remarkable eyes narrowed. “I suspect you’ve got an agenda. The misplaced payroll checks in the bags you asked about, maybe?”

He bit back a grin. The lady was way too smart for her own good. His impulsive decision to grab her had netted him a lot more than he’d bargained for. “Relax. You’re safe with me. But the less you know, the better.”

“Let me guess. You could tell me, but then you’d have to kill me.” She glanced out the window, her conflicted body language telling him she wanted to believe him, but didn’t quite dare. “Where are we going?”

“A place where I can protect you until I sort this mess out.”

“And how long will that be?”

“Ah, yes. You mentioned an important appointment?”

“I’m getting married in two weeks and I have a million details and an overbearing future mother-in-law to deal with.”

“Why do you want to do an idiotic thing like get married?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“A rolling stone gathers no chains.” Gabe shuddered. “I can’t imagine anything worse. Except being locked in prison.”

“Try being kidnapped, taken on a roller-coaster car ride by a lunatic and jailed with giant rats. Not to mention having your promotion blown to kingdom come.” She frowned. “You are disturbed. But I suppose your attitude shouldn’t be surprising for someone who robs banks for enjoyment.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “You’ve got a point. Now swallow a couple of those pills. I don’t want to have to run the inside of the Jag through a car wash, it’s a loaner.”

“Or stolen. A thrill a minute.”

“Why, Tessa, I’m hurt.” Gabe fluttered one hand over his heart. “You have such a low opinion of me.”

“If the ski mask fits…”

He grinned. “Hand me a couple sandwiches, would you? I’m starving.”

Tessa woke disoriented on a double bed in a paneled room. She remembered trees streaming past the car window and then fading to a blur. The pills must have knocked her out, a normal side effect. But everything was swaying, not a normal side effect. She blinked, but the room continued to roll. High-pitched squawking scraped across her eardrums. The rhythmic slap of water caught her attention, and terror clawed up her spine.

She tore open the door and raced upstairs, then skidded to a horrified stop. Endless blue-green waves crashed across the horizon of the Pacific Ocean. A scream ripped out of her and she collapsed, shaking. Her chest heaved in labored breaths.

Pounding footsteps vibrated the boards, and then Gabe’s strong hands gripped her shoulders. “Tessa, what’s the matter?”

She tried to speak, but couldn’t. Head spinning, her vision darkened. Her lungs convulsed and her heart galloped.

“Listen to me,” Gabe’s deep voice commanded. “You’re hyperventilating. Take slow breaths, in through your nose and out your mouth.” He pulled her into his embrace and his warm hand rubbed her back. “Easy does it. Slow your breaths down, honey.”

She obeyed, and as her breathing slowed, her vision cleared.

“That’s it.” His arms tightened. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

Trembling violently, she clung to him. “Off the ocean,” she gasped. “Get me away from the ocean—off this boat.”

“What the—? This is my yacht, Serendipity, and she’s entirely seaworthy. Nothing’s going to happen to you here.”

Tessa burst into tears, involuntarily digging her nails through the nubby white cotton of his sweater, into his arms. “I want off,” she begged. “Now!”

“All right.” He stroked her hair. “Let go of me so I can get the launch.”

She managed to unclamp her fingers, and he rose. Arms wrapped around herself, she huddled on the deck, trapped in the nightmare that had haunted her since age six. She squeezed her eyes shut, struggling to breathe.

“Hang tight, sweetheart.” His footsteps faded. Thumps, a metallic clang and a dull bang sounded. Minutes later, he returned. “I take it you don’t swim.”

She shuddered.

“Yeah, big surprise. Put this on.” He helped her into a neon orange lifejacket. “All set, let’s go.”

“Aren’t you going to wear one?” she gasped.

“I’m more at home in the water than in my own bedroom.” He chuckled. “And I’ve got the big ol’ frog’s feet to prove it.”

With his hands supporting her, she pushed upright on wobbly legs. He urged her toward the rail. She caught sight of the dark, churning water and jerked to a stop, digging in her heels.

“Tessa,” Gabe spoke with quiet patience. “The only way to get to dry land is to climb into the launch.”

“I can’t.” Caught between two agonizing, impossible choices and crazed with terror, she whimpered. “Hit me.”

“What?”

“Hit me; knock me out. I’ll never make it to shore.”

He sighed. “Close your eyes.”

Desperate, she obeyed. But instead of the blow she expected, he swept her up into his arms.

“I’ve never hit a woman in my life, and I’m not about to start with you,” his satin voice murmured into her ear. “Even we bank robbers have our principles. Hang on.”

Eyelids squeezed tight, she clung to him. His rock-hard biceps bunched, a door creaked, and then holding her with one arm, he stepped downward. The splashing grew louder. He lowered her to a cold metal bench that rocked wildly. She gripped the edge so hard her fingers ached.

“Keep those eyes shut,” he commanded before moving away.

Ragged breaths raced in and out of her dry throat, but she obeyed, even as a new round of sobs shook her.

The motor chugged on. Gabe’s warm, solid body pressed against her side. She eased her eyes open and he slid one arm around her. As the boat leapt forward, the sharp sea breeze slapped her face. Shaking, she flung her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder, clinging to him.

“It’s all right,” he murmured. He stroked her back in a soothing caress. “When I was a little boy and I would wake up scared in the night, you know what my foster mom did?”

She gulped down her sobs and pulled away to gaze up at him.

“She used to give me kisses to hold in my hand. That way, I always had her love with me.” He touched his soft lips to her forehead in a sweet, comforting kiss.

Her fear receded, replaced by a shocking awareness of the man holding her so protectively.

The boat leapt upward, then plunged sickeningly down. The bow crashed through a huge swell and icy spray stung her skin. She lurched sideways, an involuntary scream bursting out.

Gabe’s arm tightened around her. “Whoa, it’s okay.”

She huddled in his encircling arms as he whispered words of comfort, until the boat finally slowed and he moored alongside a weathered wooden dock. He jumped to the pier and lifted her out beside him, but her trembling legs collapsed. Holding her, he sank to the dock and pulled her into his lap. “You’re safe, sweetheart,” he murmured, tugging the lifejacket off.

She let him hold her until the tight bands around her chest eased and the sick, shaky feeling faded. “Now, what was that all about?”

“I’m afraid of the water.”

“No kidding.” He brushed her damp hair away from her face, the clasp that had held her curls in order long gone. “Why?”

“Wh-when I was six, my brother pulled me into the ocean and I went under. I almost drowned. The lifeguard rescued me. Sh-she had to perform AR and I spent the night in the hospital.”

He cupped her face in his hands. “Your fear is a normal response to trauma. But,” he hesitated, “I’m trying to help, not put you down, okay? You shouldn’t have to feel that the fear overpowers and controls you. Being terrified is no way to live.”

“I’ve tried to conquer it. Intellectually, I understand. But forcing my emotions to obey is another story.”

“This sounds simplistic, but concentrate on something else. Stay focused, so you don’t have time to panic.”

Maybe he was onto something. For a few minutes in the launch, she had forgotten her terror. That had never happened before. But she’d been focused on him. Bewildered, she shook her head. “Is that what you do?”

He was silent for almost a full minute. “Yeah.”

“You don’t seem like you’re afraid of anything. What scares you, Gabe?”

A dark shadow clouded his eyes for a second. Then the mischievous sparkle returned and he gave her a dazzling smile, deepening the cleft in his chin. “Martha Stewart’s ‘to do’ list—now that’s scary.” He stood and helped her to her feet. “Nightfall will hit soon. C’mon.”

She recognized a distraction when she saw one. “Where?”

“I always have a Plan B.”

He supported her while they navigated the dock and toiled up a rocky path bordered by pines. But instead of his touch making her his captive, she felt protected. Her bewildered gaze scanned the thick Oregon forest. A scarlet maple leaf drifted down to land on her shoulder. Inhaling a breath of crisp fall air sharpened with tangy wood smoke, she brushed it off. From the shadows, crickets chirped a singsong chorus.

The setting sun stretched long gold fingers of warm light across the path by the time they finally reached a log cabin at the top of the bluff. Below, hungry white-capped waves hammered the shore. With a shudder, she jerked her gaze away. “Where are we?”

He unlocked the door. Instead of answering, he waved at a green-and-navy plaid sofa. “Have a seat. I’ll start a fire.”

Perfect. While he was busy, she’d summon help. She didn’t give a rip who he was, or what he was mixed up in, she wanted out. “I’ll make a pot of coffee.”

“Sure. But don’t go climbing out the window. The kitchen overlooks the bluff.” He grinned. “There’s canned soup in the cupboard and bread in the freezer. You didn’t eat in the car. You should get some chow in your stomach.”

Tessa strode into the cozy, spotless kitchen. Red-checked curtains framed the window, accenting the wooden walls and navy-tiled countertops. Her gaze darted around the room, looking for the phone. Oh, no. No phone. Her hopes flatlined. She squared her shoulders. Fine, she’d devise another plan.

She made the coffee and then opened a cupboard. The sight of Road Runner mugs inspired a reluctant smile. The cartoon cups fit Gabe’s mischievous, faster-than-a-speeding-bullet personality to a T.

As she filled his mug, a daring idea hit. Her hand slid inside her pocket and gripped the bottle of anti-nausea pills. Two had knocked her out for several hours. If he ingested enough…

She stood there, the plastic lid cutting an imprint into her clenched palm. What if she accidentally killed him? Drugging him felt like a sneaky, dirty trick. He’d treated her very decently. Get real, woman, the guy kidnapped you. She quickly smashed six tablets and stirred them into his coffee.

In the living room, a cozy fire crackled in the hearth. She couldn’t meet Gabe’s eyes as she handed him the mug. Perching stiffly on a navy chair near the fire, she cradled her own warm drink.

With a contented sigh, he propped his stocking feet on the coffee table. Dressed in a fisherman’s sweater and snug, faded jeans, he looked relaxed and comfortable. And not at all like a bank robber. As he took a sip, guilt pierced her heart and she steeled herself not to flinch. She felt like she’d given him a cup of hemlock. He grimaced. “I wonder how old this coffee is?”

Her gaze jerked sideways to the flickering flames. Would he realize what she’d done?

“You’re still jumpy. You’re not afraid I’ll hurt you?”

“The ocean scares me. You don’t.” In spite of a lingering edge of doubt, some primal instinct deep inside insisted he wouldn’t harm her. After his gallant response to her irrational terror on his boat, she was almost sure of it. Wanted to believe it. However, she had a life to get back to.

Gabe shook his head. “You did go pretty ballistic on me there for a while.” He took several more swigs. “I’m sorry about having to detain you.”

“You don’t have to detain me. I don’t have any interest in whatever skullduggery you’re involved in.”

“Skullduggery? Now there’s a word.” He chuckled before drinking again, then rested his head against the back of the sofa. “Unfortunately, you’re already involved.” He yawned. “I’m starting to fade. I’d better make us some sandwiches.”

No! She had to keep him quiet in order for the medication to kick in. She jumped up. “I’ll do it.”

His dark brows lowered and he flashed her a puzzled look.

“I was going to fix myself something to eat anyway.”

“Go ahead then. And thanks for being such a good sport.” He flashed her one of his heart-stopping smiles. “You’ve held up damn well considering what I’ve put you through.”

Feeling unaccountably like Benedict Arnold, she stalked to the kitchen.

The snap and crackle of the fire was the only sound in the cabin as she made a tuna sandwich and carried it to the small table near the window. Chewing slowly, she managed to draw out her meager meal. Twenty minutes later, she poked a cautious head through the doorway.

Gabe lay stretched out on the couch, the mug still clutched in one hand. His sooty lashes rested against his cheeks and his full lips were parted. He was motionless, not even appearing to breathe.

Had she given him too many pills? Her stomach flip-flopped. Pulse racing, she stared at his broad chest until she saw the rise and fall of his deep, rhythmic breaths. “Gabe?” she whispered.

He didn’t move.

“Gabe?”

Still no response.

She tiptoed across the room, and then carefully turned the doorknob. The door swung open with a slight creak. She stepped across the threshold.

“Don’t leave me!” Gabe begged, his voice husky with anguish.

Her heart rocketed into her throat. She whirled.

Still asleep, but restless, he flung out his arm and the empty mug fell to the rug. Heart pounding, she stood frozen until her muscles cramped, waiting for him to resettle into deep slumber. Finally, she crept outside.

“No!” he cried. “Please don’t go!”

A choking lump lodged in her throat. Who was he pleading with in his dream world?

Her chest tight, she eased the door closed and crept out into the darkness—feeling oddly as if she had left something precious behind.

Chapter 3

Enveloped in blackness, Tessa paused. The ocean roared on her left, loud in the quiet night. She turned in the opposite direction and broke into a run. Blindly, she stumbled through the woods, clawing aside rough branches and wet leaves. Finally her burning lungs grew unbearable and a stitch caught in her side. Gasping in the damp air, she clutched her aching ribs and slowed to a walk.

The night closed around her like a predator cornering his prey. An eerie screech rang out, echoed through the fog-shrouded forest. The hairs on her arms prickled. The bushes beside her rustled, and she swallowed a scream. Gabe’s advice to focus on something else popped into her mind.

She hummed “Don’t Be Cruel” as her thoughts spun. Gabe—what a puzzle. Even when she’d tossed her cookies in his car and whacked him with the door during her escape attempt, he’d kept his good humor. And when she’d been terrified in the boat, he’d comforted her with a story about his foster mom. And a tender, calming kiss.

Obviously, he’d been in the juvenile care system, not always the best environment. His foster mom sounded loving, though. What had caused the flash of anguish in his eyes? And to whom was he crying out in his sleep? Her heart contracted at the memory of his desperate plea.

The irony of the situation struck her and a grim smile tightened her mouth. Not only had she taken the advice of a man she was running away from, thoughts of him provided the distraction that kept her panic at bay.

Suddenly, pain exploded in her forehead. Reeling backward, she plopped down in the damp grass. Brilliant stars crackled in front of her dazed eyes. She blinked, peering upward into the darkness. The twisted shape of a low-hanging branch loomed above her. She must have smacked into a tree limb.

Tessa gingerly explored the swelling knot on her forehead. It wasn’t bleeding, but the throbbing sting made tears stream from her eyes. She clenched her teeth against a whimper. Throwing a pity party wouldn’t accomplish a thing. The only way out was to keep going. She blinked again and then clambered to her feet. Shivers crawled up her spine, and she wrapped her arms around her middle. Warily peering into the gloom for any more of Mother Nature’s ambushes, she doggedly put one foot in front of the other.

Hours of cold, lonely progress later, she stumbled out of the smothering thicket of trees and onto a highway. The long ribbon of asphalt loomed black and empty. On a guess, she turned right and kept trudging, praying she was headed toward a town.

Her plodding steps in tandem with her pounding head, she trudged along the gravel shoulder. She’d quit humming hours before. Her pinched, empty stomach grumbled in the silence. The pale morning sun peeked over the horizon, weaving golden strands through pink-and-lavender clouds. Another round of shivers rattled through her and she hunched over, too forlorn to appreciate the beauty. The unexpected rumble of an engine behind her sent her spirits soaring. She whirled and waved, but the car sped past. Sharp disappointment speared through her. Her despair deepened when she saw the taillights of a green sedan. Why had she expected a gray Jag?

The miles dragged by in an icy-cold blur before she finally spotted a weigh station with an Oregon State Patrol car parked in the turnaround. Her knees weak with relief, she staggered toward the welcome sight.

A tall, square-jawed trooper jumped out and helped her to the car. “Sit down, ma’am.” He opened the back door. Shaking, she sank onto the seat. He squatted down. “What happened?”

“I’m Tessa Beaumont. I was…kidnapped yesterday during a bank robbery in Riverside.”

The officer studied her forehead. “Did the perpetrator assault you?”

Tessa drew a ragged breath. “No. Please take me home.”

“You were in the woods all night?”

At her nod, he rose and walked away. The car bounced as the trunk popped open. In seconds, he returned with a foil blanket. “There’s a small hospital in Forreston, ten minutes away.”

“No hospital. If you can’t take me home, please call a cab.”

The cop patted her hand. “After the doctor checks you out.” He climbed into the front seat. The engine rumbled and flashing blue lights reflected off the car’s hood. She huddled into the blanket, her teeth chattering.

Before long, he hustled her into the hospital. Ignoring her objections, a burly nurse stripped off Tessa’s damp suit and underwear and strong-armed her into a hospital gown. Draped in a white blanket, she perched on the exam table, her uncontrollable trembling making the paper covering crackle.

The door swung open, giving her a whiff of the sharp, medicinal smell from the hall. A tall doctor with salt-and-pepper hair strode into the room. He wheeled a stool to the exam table and sat down. “I’m Dr. Maxwell.” His kind hazel gaze studied her. “I understand you’ve been through quite an ordeal. Would you like to tell me about it?”

“I’m cold, that’s all. I’m going home.” She tried to climb off the table, but her wobbly limbs refused to obey.

“Not the best idea, Miss Beaumont. You’ve sustained a head injury. You’re weak and shaky because you’re suffering from hypothermia.” The doctor probed at the knot on her head, flashed a bright light in her eyes and asked questions about double vision and nausea. “The laceration on your forehead isn’t serious, but you do have a concussion. We’ll take a CAT scan and keep you overnight for observation.” He glanced at his clipboard. “The nurse said your clothes were disheveled and torn. Did your abductor sexually assault you?”

Tessa jerked upright, a gasp bursting out of her. “No!”

Doctor Maxwell’s bushy brows pinched in a concerned frown. “Don’t be afraid to tell me the truth, Miss Beaumont. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, and your life could be at stake. There are diseases—”

Dizziness washed over her and the room whirled. “He didn’t even hint at anything like that! My suit got ruined when I ran through the woods.”

“You’re in shock.” He patted her hand. “Completely understandable considering the circumstances. Will you consent to a thorough exam and lab tests?”

“You’re not hearing what I’m saying. There’s no need.” She ordered her weak, trembling body to climb down, but couldn’t summon the strength. “He listened to me better than this.”

“You’ve suffered a blow to the head combined with a traumatic event. But don’t you worry about a thing; we’ll take good care of you. I’ll send the nurse in with an IV.” The doctor again patted her hand. “After the scan, we’ll settle you into a room. You’ll feel much better after you’ve had a chance to rest. Would you like me to notify your family?”

Tessa gave him Mel’s number. The nurse returned with an IV bag and a needle so huge she could have knitted an afghan. Tessa gritted her teeth and focused on the only thing that helped. The image sustained her through the endless, claustrophobic CAT scan and was the last thing she saw before she fell asleep.

Gabe’s rain-forest green eyes.

Tessa woke to Mel’s angry hiss. “What do you mean you can’t find her clothes? What is she supposed to wear home, one of those idiotic gowns? She’ll get arrested for indecent exposure!”

“Mel?” she mumbled.

Mel’s worried blue gaze met her own. “Are you okay?”

Dazed, Tessa struggled to sit up, blinking at the painful stab of sunlight. “Nothing eight or nine aspirin won’t cure.” She pressed her palm to her forehead, where the Philadelphia Philharmonic Orchestra was conducting cymbal practice. “What time is it?”

“Barely past dawn. You’ve been out for almost twenty-four hours.” Mel grabbed her hand and squeezed Tessa’s fingers. “I’ve been so worried.”

“I feel like I’m trapped in Oz. I keep demanding to go home, but can’t get there. Did you say they lost my clothes?”

“Yep, I was just butting heads with Nurse Ratched. Apparently, they were ruined, and someone threw them away by mistake.”

Tessa huffed out an exasperated sigh. “Another violation on top of everything else.”

“Oh, Tess!” Tears brimmed in Mel’s eyes. “He didn’t—”

“No! He was actually kind of…sweet.”

Mel shook her head, making her short blond curls bounce. “A sweet bank-robbing kidnapper? Obviously, you’re still under the influence of your lovely purple and green lump there. Did they take X rays?”

In spite of her pain, Tessa couldn’t stop a chuckle. “A CAT scan. Other than a headache, I’m fine. And I want out of here.”

“Okay. I’ll rustle up some clothes and be right back.”

“How? Nothing will be open at this hour.”

“I’ll find something. Oh, Dale and the Dragon Lady are outside. Nurse Ratched wouldn’t let them in your room. Apparently, a fiancé doesn’t count as family.”

“How did you get in?”

Melody grinned and buffed her nails on her red turtleneck. “I told her I was your sister.”

“You’re impossible!” Tessa smiled. “But I’m glad you were here when I woke up.”

“A tiny white lie for the benefit of everyone isn’t that terrible. What Nurse Ratched doesn’t know won’t hurt her. I’m outta here. Do you want me to send in the clowns?”

Tessa groaned. “Melody Parrish!”

“Mea culpa. Do you want your blue-eyed bland and his fire-breathing mamma invited in?”

“Yes, send in my fiancé and future mother-in-law, please.”

Mel hurried out. Seconds later, Lucille glided in, followed by Dale. Immaculate in a beige Chanel suit, the petite woman shook her head. “Tessa! We’ve been worried sick, and the nurse wouldn’t let us in!” Lucille peered at Tessa’s forehead. “Oh, dear! I hope that fades before the wedding, or the photographs will need to be retouched.”

Concern darkening his sky-blue eyes, her tall, broad-shouldered fiancé stepped forward, dwarfing his tiny mother. “Are you all right?”

“Only a bump, nothing major.”

“Dale, darling, wait outside for a moment.” Though phrased as a request, Lucille’s steely tone brooked no argument.

“Why?” Dale cocked his head. “I just got here, and I want to make sure Tessa is okay.”

“I’d like a word alone with her. You know, woman to woman.”

“Ah.” Dale nodded. “Tessa, you’re probably thirsty. Would you like some water, or a soda? Do you feel up to eating anything?”

She ran a dry tongue across her teeth. Her mouth was as nasty tasting as if the French Foreign Legion had marched through and left their boots behind. “Nothing to eat, but a Sprite sounds great, thanks.”

“Okay, let me know when you’re done with your girl talk.” Dale departed.

While Tessa appreciated her fiancé’s considerate offer, her skin prickled with annoyance at his easy capitulation. She’d always thought a man who treated his mother with such respect was charming. Girl talk or no, Gabe wouldn’t stand for being ordered out. She frowned. Now why had she thought of him at a time like this?

Lucille’s ice-blue eyes narrowed to slits and she dropped her voice to a murmur. “Did that criminal attack you?”

“Why does everybody ask me that? He behaved like a perfect gentleman.” Tessa’s frown deepened. “And frankly, I don’t appreciate your intrusion into my privacy.”

“Tessa! You’ve never spoken to me with disrespect.” Lucille patted her hand. “It must be the head injury.”

Tessa snatched her hand away. First the cop, then the doctor and now Lucille. If one more person patted her, she’d scream.

Lucille sighed. “I was so excited about having grandchildren immediately, but now I suppose a baby will have to wait until there’s no doubt about diseases.”

Though she’d never hit anyone in her life, the desire to slap Lucille’s elegant face burned through Tessa and she clenched her fists. She’d always thought of marrying Dale as gaining both a husband and a mother. Her own mother had been obsessed by her lovers, the New York soap opera scene and Tessa’s brother Jules’s tennis career. Vivienne had hidden her awkward, over-weight daughter at a boarding school on the opposite coast and never discussed her. Tessa had believed Lucille’s involvement in Dale’s life was motherly love, but now it seemed motherly love had become blatant interference. No way would she let Lucille control her marriage, including when to have children.

She forced herself to take slow, deep breaths and relax her hands. Now was a fine time to have second thoughts—the wedding was less than two weeks away.

I can’t imagine anything worse. Except prison. Gabe’s heart-felt anti-marriage sentiment echoed through her throbbing temples. Did a green-eyed bandit have anything to do with her sudden enlightenment?

The door opened, and Mel strode in carrying a paper bag. “I’m back, with a change of clothes. Hey, Lucille. How come you’re in here and Dale is out in the hall?”

“Hello, Miss Parrish.” Lucille’s voice dripped icicles. “That’s really none of your business.” She inclined her head at Tessa. “I’ll give you privacy to dress.”

Mel giggled as Lucille swept out. “What did the queen vulture want?”

Her daughter-in-law dancing on a string? Tessa struggled to corral her anger and confusion long enough to spout a coherent answer.

Mel’s gaze locked on hers. “Hoo boy, what did she say that upset you so much?” Her blue eyes shot sparks. “Should I punch her in the snooty nose?”

Tessa straightened. “We’re not six, and you don’t have to fight my battles anymore. I’ll set Lucille straight. And if any punching goes on, I’ll wear the boxing gloves.”

Mel’s brows shot into her hairline. “Wow, I’ve never seen you talk back to the Dragon Lady. I’ve never seen you threaten to get physical, either. It’s about time. I don’t know what the ‘sweet’ bank robber did that pumped up your attitude, but I like it.” Giggling, she fished a bright orange garment out of the bag. “Better get dressed first, though. Courtesy of Al’s Truck Stop, the only place open. I caught a waitress going off duty and she happily sold me this.”

Tessa stared at the stained dress with Al’s stamped in neon green on the pocket. “I can see why.” She chuckled. The sound gonged through her skull and she winced. “However, it’s better than baring my assets to the world. Thank goodness the nurse at least found my shoes.”

Balanced on wobbly legs, Tessa put on the ugly uniform, wrinkling her nose at the lingering odors of cigarette smoke and stale French fries.

The instant they stepped into the hall, Lucille swooped down on them. “The BMW is out front. During the drive home, we can plan the postponement.” Her meticulously groomed brows rose a fraction. “What are you wearing?”

Dale offered a sweet, encouraging smile. “She looks good. I’m glad to see her on her feet.” He glanced at his mother and his smile slipped. “What postponement?”

Tessa squared her shoulders. “I’m riding home with Mel.” She kissed Dale on the cheek. “Don’t worry, the wedding’s on schedule. No delay.”

“I think it would be better for everyone if—” Lucille huffed.

Tessa cut her off. “I’ll get in touch tomorrow.”

Dale enfolded her in a gentle bear hug. “I’m glad to hear that. But we’ll do whatever is best for you. Call me later if you need anything, Tessa.”

Tessa and Melody ambled to Mel’s ancient red Volkswagen bug, leaving Lucille in the lobby sputtering like a defective tea-kettle. Mel jiggled the key into the rusty lock. “About this ‘sweet’ bank robber.” She shot Tessa a sparkling glance. “What’s his name?”

Tessa wrenched open the squeaky door and swept a crumpled Taco Man bag off the duct-taped seat before she settled in. “I have no idea, and could care less.”

After all, sometimes a little white lie for the benefit of everyone wasn’t that terrible. Was it?

The next morning, Tessa sat in a bleak room at the Riverside police station scrutinizing mug shots. She closed the third book and pushed the heavy volume across the table to the redheaded police officer who had popped in to check on her progress. “Still no luck.”

“Okay. I’ll get more books and bring you some coffee.”

As the officer left, she rested her tender head in her hand. She doubted Gabe’s picture would show up in any mug books. In spite of the robbery and kidnapping, his protective, considerate behavior wasn’t consistent with a criminal’s. Who knew? In any case, she wasn’t about to let him hold her against her will, especially without an explanation.

The door opened and a huge, dark-suited man the size of a soda machine slipped inside. He flashed a gold badge. “Gregson, FBI.” He slid his hulking form into the seat across from her and bobbed his head in a curt nod. “We’re taking over this case.”

The man’s flat, hooded gaze locked on hers. A chill crawled over her and instant dislike prickled across her scalp.

Gregson pulled a pen and small black notebook from inside his jacket pocket. “Have you given your statement?”

She shook her head. “They’re short handed. The flu epidemic that’s going around. They asked me to look at mug shots first.”

His nearly black eyes narrowed into slits, the reptilian gaze of a snake hypnotizing its prey. “So, you can identify him?”

Her instincts screamed mistrust. An intense desire to protect Gabe from this predator rose within her and she straightened in her chair. “No. He had on a ski mask.”

His bushy black brows furrowed. “The entire six hours?”

She stared into those malignant eyes and lied. “Yes.”

“Then why are you looking at mug shots?”

“I tried to tell them.” She shrugged. “They’re keeping me busy until they can get to me, I guess.”

“What about his voice? Can you describe it?”

Every nuance of Gabe’s warm, silky drawl burned in her memory. “Just a man’s voice, nothing special.”

“Do you know where he held you? Could you find it again?”

“It was dark. I stumbled onto the highway by sheer luck.”

“Did he have the bags with him?” Though Gregson’s tone remained level, he leaned forward, betraying his interest.

Goose bumps crawled over her skin. Something was very wrong. “I have no idea.”

He steepled his thick fingers and stared at her over them. “You’re not being very cooperative.”

She managed another casual shrug. “I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”

“A teller went home sick that day and you took over the vault.” His eyes glittered as coldly as black ice. “Did you open the shipment before the perpetrator arrived on the scene?”

How did he know that? This had to be about the misplaced payroll checks. But why? And in order to know about the checks, he had to be involved. Her nerves thrummed on a surge of adrenaline. The bags had been sealed before she got them, and afterward, no one had seen the contents except Gabe. But this man was no friend of Gabe’s; she knew that as well as her own name. “I didn’t have a chance.”

His fleshy lips compressed into a cruel line. “Stop the games. Your vault teller confirmed you counted the shipment. What was in the bags?”

He’d obviously done his homework. She swallowed down her rising unease and managed a dry chuckle. “Money, of course.”

With surprising speed for a man his size, Gregson surged to his feet. He stalked over and stood behind her chair, silent and unmoving. She could feel his cold-blooded gaze drilling into the back of her head, and she clutched the edge of the table.

“Time for a private discussion.” He gripped her arm and jerked her up. A gun barrel stabbed into her ribs. “We’re leaving, without a fuss. There’s a silencer on this piece, I’ll drop you and disappear before anybody knows what happened. One squeak and you’re dead, understand?”

Numb with disbelief and fear, she nodded.

The giant yanked her to the doorway, and peered out. She fought to control her breathing. Surely he wouldn’t be able to abduct her from the police station! Someone would notice. Especially if she made a help-me face.

“Don’t even think about trying to attract attention,” he said as if he’d read her mind. “I have a buddy who works here. He tipped me off to your presence, and he’ll make sure nobody sees us.”

So much for someone noticing and coming to her rescue. Time to switch to Plan B. Problem was, what was Plan B? Her palms grew damp and her heart raced as Gregson hustled her down the deserted corridor and out the back. She needed a plan!

Outside, a motorcycle cop lounged on his bike with a paper cup of coffee, his white helmet and sunglasses reflecting the bright sun. Gregson muttered an obscenity. “The coast was supposed to be clear.” He rammed the gun tighter into her ribs, and a sharp ache pierced her side. “Smile and walk,” he growled into her ear. “If you involve the cop, I’ll kill him.”

With a frozen grimace pasted on her face, she managed to stay upright and totter what felt like miles to a black van. Gregson opened the passenger door, and the dark interior loomed in front of her. Think! Maybe she could convince him to let her drive. A low-speed crash might allow her to escape.

“Sir,” the cop called. “Your taillight is broken.”

Tessa’s heart gave a wild leap. She’d know that silky voice anywhere! Then her throat constricted. Gregson had said he wouldn’t hesitate to kill, and she believed him.

Gregson jerked to a stop. “Not a word,” he threatened. He slid the gun into his jacket pocket, keeping his hand on it as they turned around.

Gabe sauntered toward them. Dressed in the tight navy uniform, tall black boots, helmet and sunglasses, his lean, muscular body emanated a barely leashed power. Danger hummed under his graceful movements and careless smile. She slanted a glance at Gregson, but he didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. Then again, the behemoth holding her captive had a loaded gun in his hand and Gabe’s pistol was securely strapped to his side.

“Probably vandals.” Gabe gestured. “Better take a look.”

She had to tell him about the gun!

“Yeah.” Gregson reluctantly lumbered toward the rear of the van.

Tessa opened her mouth to speak.

Gabe lowered his sunglasses a fraction and his eyes flashed a warning before he pushed the glasses back.

She snapped her mouth shut.

As Gregson rounded the back bumper, Gabe’s arm shot out. With a bone-crunching thud, his fist smashed into the hulk’s nose. Before the other man could react, Gabe grabbed him by the shoulder, spun him around and slammed his head into the van. Gregson crumpled to the asphalt like a deflated beach ball.

Her rescuer flashed a sardonic grin before he grabbed her arm and hustled her toward the motorcycle. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this, Houdini.” They reached the bike and he swung a long, muscled leg over the seat. “Hike up that skirt and hop aboard.”

As she bunched the winter-white skirt of her suit up her thighs, Gabe slid the sunglasses down his nose and his verdant gaze grew warm and smoky. “I ought to arrest you.” He shook his head. “It’s definitely a crime to hide those legs under a granny skirt, sweetheart.”

Her stomach flip-flopped at the expression in his eyes. Hunger? No, impossible. He must be joking again. She climbed on behind him and flung her arms around his waist. The machine roared to life between her legs. The roar grew deafening and the bike sped out of the parking lot. “Are you a cop or a criminal?” she shouted over the throaty growl of the engine.

His broad back shook with laughter. “Well, honey,” he tossed over his shoulder. “I guess that depends on who you ask.”

Chapter 4

Tessa clung to Gabe as the scenery flew by in a blur. For the second time in three days, she’d been stolen away by this green-eyed pirate.

She hugged his waist, her face pressed against him. Heat from his broad back radiated through the dark blue uniform and warmed her breasts, making them tingle. The bike tipped to the left and her locked hands convulsed.

He shifted. “Leave me a little breathing room, would you?”

“Sorry,” she mumbled, loosening her stranglehold a fraction. His hips were wedged closely between her spread legs, his hard thighs pressed against hers. Belated awareness of their intimate position dawned and embarrassment washed over her.

He squeezed her clenched fists reassuringly. “Trust me, honey. I’m not going to let you fall.”

Twenty wild, hair-raising minutes later, Gabe leaned to the right, and the bike shot down the airport exit. He pulled up to a helipad and killed the engine. The motor spat out a metallic ping. He jumped off, offering his hand. “Watch the hot muffler.”

“What are you up to now?” she accused.

He grinned, deepening the cleft in his chin. “We’re going for a helicopter ride.”

She gripped the motorcycle seat. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Gabe crossed his arms over his chest. His tanned biceps bunched under the short sleeves of the navy-blue uniform. “You are boarding this chopper. Either on your own, or with help.”

“Try it.” Her gaze swept over his square, set jaw and glittering eyes. “I’m not getting aboard without a darned good reason. I’m through being grabbed by strange men and ordered around—you included.”

His grin disappeared. “I tried to warn you.”

She flipped her tangled curls over her shoulder. “You robbed my bank and kidnapped me, and I’m supposed to take your word for it? How did you know where I was and that I was in trouble, by the way?”

“Mr. No-Neck will wake up and come looking for us soon. You want to hang around and wait?” She regarded him silently, and he sighed. “Your life is in danger. You’ll get an explanation after you plant your cute little six in the chopper. No time to waste.”

She studied the self-assured man in front of her. Strangely, her instincts assured her she could trust him. Hopefully, they were right. He hadn’t hurt her before, and had just rescued her from what promised to be an ugly fate. She sure as certain didn’t want another encounter with the Incredible Hulk. Especially since he’d be waking up with the mother of all headaches. “I’m warning you, you better have an airtight story, or I’ll shove you out in midair.”

Gabe’s grin bounced back. “In that case, I hope you have a pilot’s license.” He opened the door with a sweeping gesture and a bow. “All aboard.”

She settled into the padded ivory seat. He leaned across to fasten her seat belt, and his fresh, outdoorsy scent teased her senses. His face a mere breath away, he placed a pair of miked headphones over her ears. He gently touched her forehead, and his eyes narrowed with concern. “What happened?”

She gazed into the lush, rain-forest depths of his eyes, inches from hers. Her heart stuttered, and her palms grew damp. Probably a delayed reaction to the close call with Gregson. She gulped. “I bumped my head on a tree.”

He frowned. “It looks serious.”

“It’s not. Mild concussion.”

Gabe climbed in and fastened his seat belt and headphones. He flipped several overhead switches. The rotors whirled, vibrating the cockpit.

As the ground fell away beneath her, Tessa braced herself. But instead of a stomach-lurching ascent, the machine gently floated upward. Was there anything this man couldn’t do? “I expected this to be scary, but it’s fun.”

His white, wicked grin flashed. “Flying is the second-best out-of-control feeling there is.”

Her toes curled in her shoes. She looked away from those knowing eyes, focusing on the endless expanse of blue sky.

“Trust your pilot, honey, his knowledge and experience.” His husky, mellow voice floated into her ears. “Trust him to send you soaring as high as you can go and then float you safely back down. Relax and let yourself enjoy the ride.”

Her insides melted at the intimate promise in his tone. Flying had never sounded so tempting. Warm, quivery sensations she’d never felt before shimmered through her. She shifted uneasily. “About that explanation?”

Gabe glanced over at Tessa’s flushed face, and his groin tightened. What the hell was he doing? He’d better keep his mind on the job and his hands off the woman. Life on the edge was one thing, but playing with the safety off got a guy shot in the heart. He’d already had his heart blown to pieces. He wasn’t about to trust another female with it. “I’m a federal agent.”

“Oh, please. That’s the oldest line in the book. Next you’ll spout a British accent and claim your name is Bond, Gabe Bond.”

He threw back his head, roaring with laughter. Still laughing, he handed her a leather wallet from his shirt pocket. “License to kill, sweetheart.”

She traced her graceful fingertips across the smooth surface. He pictured those fingertips trailing over his skin, and a rush of desire scorched his blood. He jerked in a breath.

“The Incredible Hulk had ID, too, FBI, in fact.”

Jaw tight, he shifted his gaze out the windshield. “Did he hurt you?”

“I thought I was going to die.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her touch her ribs in a subconscious gesture.

Gabe’s knuckles whitened on the stick. If the big lug had put his hands on her, he would pay. “You saw a badge and documentation?”

“He flashed his shield so fast, I couldn’t see much. He said his name was Agent Gregson.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Nothing.”

Not for the first time since he’d met her, admiration surged through him. The goon had had her inside for thirty minutes. Though Tessa was as soft and sweet as a woman could be on the outside, she had inner fortitude of tungsten steel. “Nothing?”

“I didn’t trust him, he had rattlesnake eyes. Reptilian.” She shivered. “He didn’t care about the money. He knew about the checks and wanted to find out if I did. The only way he could have that information is if he was involved, because the bags were sealed. I doubt he was really FBI.”

His kitten was one smart cookie. But then he had already glimpsed the sharp intellect behind those big golden eyes. “You’ve got good instincts, Houdini. Check out my ID.”

Tessa opened the wallet. “Well, this is interesting. No wonder you use your middle name. I’m sorry, I know it’s not polite, but you, of all people, to be named—” she broke off in a gale of husky giggles.

“Valentine,” he finished, enjoying her laughter. “Valentine Gabriel Colton, FBI Special Agent, at your service.”

“Okay, you have ID. Like I said before, so did Gregson. How do I know it’s the genuine article?”

“Hey, if I made something up, I sure wouldn’t conjure up that name.”

“Maybe so, but when we get where we’re going, I want to call the local FBI office for confirmation.”

“I’m not affiliated with the locals, I’m working out of D.C. on a special interagency assignment. At the moment, I answer to one guy, work alone and go where I’m needed, doing what’s necessary. Even if that means coloring outside the lines.”

“The hired gun, cleaning up Dodge City all by himself?”

“And when the job is over, I ride off into the sunset. Alone.” He was warning her, but also reminding himself. Keep everything on the surface, keep it superficial. Keep it safe.

“How does one get a job like that? Did you go to super-secret spy college?”

“I was a frogman for ten years.”

“A what?”

“Sorry, Navy SEAL.”

“That explains the affinity for water.”

“My love affair with the ocean began long before that. I grew up in San Diego, started surfing when I was only seven.”

“Seven?” A shudder wracked her. “Then why did you leave the SEALs? You’re landlocked now, I take it.”

He considered her question. “It stopped being fun.” Blurting out the honest reply startled him. He was always careful not to reveal his true feelings.

“So you quit.” Her brows arched. “What happened?”

Guilt wrenched inside him. You don’t want to know. That’s what he got for following his crazy impulse to open up to her.

Thrown off balance by his out-of-the-blue lapse of control, which seemed to happen too often around her, he focused on the business at hand. “As you’ve realized, this…situation concerns the checks. But it’s complicated. Gregson may or may not be genuine FBI. Too much information has leaked out. Cops are involved and we’re not sure how high the betrayal goes. That’s why I had to pull the bank job. I couldn’t just waltz in and ask to see the checks. I’d have blown my cover. The robbery got me the checks without arousing suspicions. From the local cops on up, nobody can know I’m working for the good guys. Two of our agents are already dead. We can’t trust anybody. Including our own.”

“But you trust me?”

Gabe had discovered the hard way he couldn’t trust anyone. He’d learned the lesson early, and learned it well. He survived by holding people at arm’s length, substituting adventure and excitement for relationships. A clever quip and a ready smile kept deeper emotions where they belonged. Buried.

Every day was a party. But it was a party for one.

He’d run a thorough background check on Tessa and discovered nothing incriminating. Defying logic, his gun-shy instincts urged him to trust her all the way. If he couldn’t get her out of this mess, he might have to. A suffocating fist gripped his lungs. He might be forced to include her—to a minimum—on a professional level, but he’d make damn sure it didn’t get personal.

“Obviously if they’re after you, you’re not in on it. And you saw the checks, which puts you in jeopardy.” Quashing his inner turmoil, he grinned at her. “I need your cooperation, and I can’t be afraid to eat or drink when you’re around. Very clever, by the way. I couldn’t see straight for twelve hours. Which made surveilling you since you left the hospital a little difficult. Luckily, I managed, or Gregson’s abduction attempt would have succeeded.”

Her cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry. I felt badly about drugging you, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. I wanted to go home. But even after I escaped, nobody would let me.”

He frowned. “Why not?”

“The doctor made me stay in the hospital overnight and then I had to wait for Mel to get me some new clothes.”

“What happened to your clothes?”

“They were ruined and someone threw them away.” Her voice dropped to a murmur. “Then the doctor wanted to do an exam and lab tests. He wouldn’t believe you didn’t rape me.”

Nausea slammed into him at the thought of anyone violating her that way. His jaw felt too tight to get the words out. “I would never force myself on a woman.”

“I know,” she replied softly. “I know you wouldn’t.”

He squeezed the stick to keep from ramming his fist into the door. She’d been hurt and humiliated because of his actions. Her head injury was also on his account. In spite of his devil-may-care attitude, he went out of his way to make sure no innocent bystanders took any flak. This time he’d failed. And Tessa had suffered the consequences. It ate at him like acid. “I’m sorry you had to go through that because of me.”

“Everybody kept patting me until I wanted to scream. I told them you were nice, and they stuck an IV in my arm,” she huffed. “Mel was the only one who believed me.”

His stomach rolled again, for an entirely different reason. He didn’t want to analyze why he suddenly felt proprietary and protective toward this woman, when he’d never before felt that way about anyone. Step back, Colton. “Is Mel your boyfriend?”

“My best friend since first grade, we’re like sisters.”

“Funny name for a girl.”

“Her name is Melody. Mel’s a nickname. You should talk…Valentine.” A grin sneaked out before remorse erased it. “I’m sorry, teasing you is mean.”

An answering smile curled Gabe’s mouth. “You’re not the first. How do you think I learned to fight? I was battle-hardened long before Navy martial arts training, believe me. Anybody who called me Valentine got clobbered.”

“Why did your parents choose something so unusual? Is Valentine a family name?”

Gabe’s face shut down, his eyes darkening, his expression shifting into neutral. “I have no idea.”

Tessa frowned. Obviously, she’d hit a nerve. Too late, she remembered he’d mentioned a foster mom. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Look, there’s our destination ahead.”

Her gaze followed his pointing finger out the windshield. She gulped. “That microscopic patch of grass between the trees?”

His grin reappeared, banishing his wariness. She studied his deliberately casual profile. This complex man wasn’t what he appeared, in more ways than one. The grin that sprang so easily to his lips covered a shadow inside. Compassion flooded her. No stranger to pain herself, she recognized the deep hurt he so determinedly held at bay. In spite of herself, she was drawn to him, to the impudent courage that shielded his heart.

“No problem. Your pilot knows how to hit the sweet spot every time.”

True to his word, the helicopter floated gracefully between the colorful oaks and maples, and then kissed the ground with a slight bump. “Cape Hope. I believe you’ll recognize the cabin.”

He placed his hand on the small of her back as they walked through the forest. Heat radiated from his hand, through her. Though the path wasn’t steep, her breathing accelerated. Baffled, she gulped in the cool, autumn air.

Gabe unlocked the door, and they entered the familiar log cabin. He grasped her upper arms and pulled her toward him. “I want your word you won’t run off. These scum are dead serious, and Gregson got too damn close.”

“I realize that now. I won’t, I promise.”

“If I hadn’t made it there in time—” He shuddered, swallowed hard. His darkened emerald gaze ensnared hers. As if he couldn’t help himself, he fingered a curl that had fallen over her shoulder. “You have hair like a Caribbean sunset. Copper and red and gold. Bewitching. Beautiful.”

Nobody had ever called her beautiful. Warmth curled through her, settling around her heart. “I, um, thank you,” she whispered.

His callused fingertips traced the shell of her ear, and delicious sensations rained down her spine. His gaze caressed her face, lingered on her mouth, then slipped upward to hold her captive again. “So tempting.” He lowered his head, moving closer. “You smell so sweet, Tessie. Makes a man want to eat you up,” he murmured, his breath feathering across her temple.

Her heart shimmered. The wonderful things he was saying, the enraptured expression on his face filled her with wonder, held her spellbound.

His fingers slid into her hair, urging her nearer. Resisting didn’t occur to her. His warm lips touched hers, and the bright, sizzling jolt of pleasure made her gasp, startled her pulse into a gallop. Shocked by her intense response, she shoved at his chest.

He instantly released her.

She jumped away, pressed quivering fingers to her lips. “Wh-what do you think you’re doing?”

A “hell-if-I-know” stunned expression glazed his eyes for several long, trembling heartbeats. Then he shook his head, and the familiar naughty twinkle appeared. “If you don’t know, I must not have been doing it right.” His shaky chuckle vibrated through her. “That was a kiss.”

It certainly was. A startling, amazing, set-me-on-fire kiss. She’d enjoyed the brief pressure of his mouth on hers far too much. “I am not that kind of a woman.”

He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Maybe you are and just don’t know it.”

Fury burned away the sweet ache inside her. Because maybe, just maybe, he was right. And that would make her the kind of woman she’d vowed not to become. “You…oh! You’re a…a…an oversexed gorilla!”

His grin flashed. “I thought you said I was nice.”

“I’ve changed my opinion.” She stormed into the kitchen. Trembling, she stood in front of the sink, her hands gripping the cold edge of the tile counter. What was the matter with her? She’d basked in his kiss with the greedy thirst of a desert wanderer at an oasis.

Gabe poked his head in the doorway. “Is it safe to come in?”

She whirled. “What do you want?”

He held up both hands. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I happen to be engaged.”

“Yes, you are.” His impudent grin flashed. “Engaging.”

“Get serious. If you can. We’ve got to plan what to do.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. Truce?”

“Well…I suppose. But keep your distance.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m going to grab a shower and change out of this monkey suit. You will be here when I get back…” His eyes danced with mischief. “And not traipsing around in the woods in purple skivvies singing ‘You Ain’t Nothin’ But a Hound Dog’?”

She shot him a glare. “I never break a promise. I want to talk to your superior. Then I need to call Mel, or she’ll have every cop in the state searching for me. You wouldn’t happen to have a phone in your shoe?”

“You watch too many movies, Houdini.” He unsnapped his pocket and produced a cell phone. “It’s a secure unit, can’t be traced.” He gave her his boss’s name and phone number, and the code name Falcon Three so his boss would release the information to her. “When you talk to your friend Mel, make something up. Don’t tell her anything about me.”

“Of course not. I’m not an imbecile.”

“No you’re not. You’re a very sharp lady, and I’m glad you’re on my side.” He saluted, turned and sauntered out.

Tessa didn’t trust the information he’d provided, after all he could have paid someone to lie for him. She called directory assistance in Washington, D.C. They recited the same number Gabe had given her. Hurdle one conquered. Excitement jittered through her. Feeling disconcertingly like a Bond babe, she dialed, waited through three transfers, and then gave the code name to the gravelly voiced baritone who identified himself as Gabe’s superior. At her request, the man supplied a dead-on description of Valentine Gabriel Colton down to the cleft in his chin, and verified that he was indeed a federal agent. Hurdle two. Relief, mixed with an emotion that felt oddly like happiness careened through her. Gabe was who he said he was. Not a criminal. FBI.

After a second call to inform Mel that she’d been delayed at the police station, Tessa hung up and set the phone on the counter. Leaning on her elbows, she stared out the window at the forest, blazing with resplendent fall foliage. What was the strange reaction that overpowered her whenever Gabe was near? Her stomach jittered in horror. Maybe her mother’s genes would triumph after all. Tessa wanted stability and a family, but perhaps she was fated to follow her hormones through man after man, just like Vivienne.

She slammed her palms on the counter. No way! Her mother’s life was a nightmare example of that tortured path. Tessa refused to follow in Vivienne’s destructive footsteps. Her shoulders stiff with resolve, she focused on making coffee and sandwiches. When they were ready, she carried a tray to the small table in the living room. Goose bumps prickled up her arms and she rubbed her hands together. The cabin hadn’t been in use, and the room was cold. Kneeling in front of the fireplace, she started a fire.

A pair of long, tanned bare feet appeared in her line of vision. “I was gonna do that.”

She swallowed hard. Good heavens, even the sight of the man’s feet tweaked her libido. She said the first thing that popped into her mind. “You don’t have frog’s feet.”

His husky laugh bubbled through her veins like expensive champagne, filling her with a warm, sparkling glow. “I didn’t mean literally.”

“Of course not.” She leapt up, backing toward the chair. “I made sandwiches and coffee.”

Gabe’s brows tilted. “Should I have you taste-test them?”

“I said I was sorry about that.”

“So you did.” One corner of his mouth quirked up. “But remember, honey, payback is hell.” He grabbed a sandwich and a mug of coffee and collapsed on the plaid sofa.

She dropped into a chair beside the fire. The damp sheen of Gabe’s hair reflected the dancing flames. He’d changed into snug, faded jeans and a black cotton sweater. Trying to ignore the disturbing zings ricocheting along her nerve endings, she doggedly chewed her sandwich. It tasted like sawdust.

“So—”

She jerked, nearly spilling her coffee.

He shook his head. “You’ve gotta get a handle on that hair-trigger reflex. Do I still make you nervous?”

Not in the way he meant. “I was thinking, and you startled me, that’s all. How long will we be here?”

“I don’t know. Did you leave the phone in the kitchen?” She nodded, and he rose. “Be right back.”

His low voice murmured from the kitchen. In minutes he returned. For once, his face wore a somber expression, without a hint of levity. Dread hung heavily between them.

Sighing, he jammed his fingers through his hair. “There’s no sugar-coated way to say this. Gregson may be dead.”

Bile swelled in her throat. “Y-you killed him?”

“No.” He dropped onto the sofa and stared down at the green braided rug. “Whoever he works for doesn’t have a real subtle job performance evaluation. You escaped, and I saw his face, but he didn’t see mine because of the helmet and sunglasses. With his cover blown, he was useless. The local cops found a John Doe in the river, a bullet in the back of his skull. My boss is running his prints. We’ll know soon if his real name was Gregson, and if he was genuine FBI.” Gabe’s intent gaze fastened on her.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled.

“You should know what we’re dealing with.” He left, quickly returned and handed her two checks. “You saw these before. What did you think?”

Puzzled, she turned them over. “Sav-Mart payroll checks.”

“But one’s real and one’s counterfeit. Problem is, we can’t tell them apart because stolen checks were used as templates to make perfect phonies. Counterfeit checks from big companies are showing up all over the Northwest. The Treasury Department has been tracking them for nearly two years, but every time they think they’re making progress, they run into a dead end. The bad guys are always somehow one step ahead.”

Tessa frowned. “That’s why you suspect someone in law enforcement might be involved?”

“Yeah, plus the fact that our previous agents on the inside were murdered. So I came in deep undercover. Only my boss knows I’m working this, and he’s top-level security. A few days ago, we arrested a check passer who gave us some information, but wanted immunity before he’d tell all. While we were working out the details, the suspect ‘hung himself’ in his cell. We knew the checks were in the cash delivery to your branch. The robbery got them into my hands without tipping off the crooks or burning my cover. The checks confirmed the one common thread we’ve found.”

Every trace of the carefree rogue had disappeared. All business, his cool, serious gaze bored into hers. Tessa stared at a very different Gabe—the dangerous man his enemies faced. Icy fingers crawled up her spine.

“The real checks are being stolen from Oregon Pacific Bank. So far, the crooks have cleared over eight million dollars.”

“Eight million?”

“A hell of a motive for murder.” He grimaced. “And one of your co-workers is up to their neck in blood.”

Chapter 5

“What?” Tessa gasped.

“The mole has to have high security clearance. The setup is sophisticated, ingenious, and impossible to trace. That is, until you stumbled across the evidence. If you’d called security—” Gabe’s dark brows slammed together, and he clenched his jaw. “You’d be bunking beside Gregson in the morgue.”

Her stomach churned. “That’s why you kidnapped me.”

“When I realized you’d seen the checks, I couldn’t risk leaving you behind. I’d hoped to let you go none the wiser. No chance of that anymore.”

“So now what?”

“I have to find out who’s running the operation, and protect you.” He tapped his pursed lips with a long finger.

Tessa stared at his sculpted mouth, the memory of his recent kiss burning through her brain. She gulped a swig of hot coffee.

“I can’t make you disappear without tipping off the bad guys. I can’t trust anyone else with your safety. And your inside connections at Oregon Pacific Bank will come in very handy.” He flashed a wickedly sexy smile. “Yeah. Looks like we’re gonna be roomies.”

The room tilted as every molecule in her body hummed in response to his gorgeous smile. She straightened. She would not let out-of-control hormones jeopardize her future. “Absolutely not.”

He sobered. “These guys will kill you with less thought than taking out the garbage. Gregson’s isn’t the first suspicious body to be found downriver with a new view out the back of his head. I doubt they’ll risk attracting attention with a public hit, but if they catch you alone, all bets are off.”

She scowled. “But my wedding arrangements.”

“If they succeed, you won’t have to worry about that.” He scowled. “Or anything else.”

“I refuse to let those criminals ruin my wedding.” She crossed her arms over her chest. She was so close to achieving her dream. Nothing short of a nuclear war would stop her now. “You’ll have to compromise.”

“I could tie you up and lock you in a safe house, you know.” His sober gaze didn’t look like he was joking.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Would he?

“Don’t kid yourself. If I could guarantee your safety, you’d already be there. Okay, I’ll figure out the wedding stuff.” He shuddered. “But stick close and do what I say, when I say.”

She squared her shoulders. “To a point,” she warned darkly. “How am I supposed to explain you to my friends and my fiancé?” How would Dale react to the news that she was living with another man? During their two-year relationship, she’d never seen him ruffled. A purely female part of her hoped he’d respond with at least a small show of jealousy. Men in love were supposed to feel proprietary, weren’t they?

“Later.” He glanced at the complicated gauges on his watch. “First we take the chopper back to the city.”

During the trip, he grilled her about the checks and the incident with Gregson. But she thoroughly enjoyed the ride, and his company.

When they landed at the Riverside airport, he turned to her with a knowing smile. “Nice, huh? The first time, fear of the unknown takes away from some of the fun. The second ride is usually much better.” He arched a dark brow. “It doesn’t take long to get addicted to flying.”

She willed away the annoyingly delicious shimmer caused by his double entendre. “Are we taking the bike?”

“No. I’ve got a Viper here at the airport.”

“What happened to the Jaguar?”

“Using different vehicles keeps them guessing. I’ve also changed plates on the ’Vette, so the car can’t be traced to the robbery. Here’s the plan. Your place, fifteen minutes to pack, then we’re bugging out to my house.”

“I can’t pack in fifteen minutes!” And she needed a lot more time to get used to the idea of living with Gabe.

“You’d better, because ready or not, I’m hauling your cute little six out of there.”

“You said that before. What’s a six, or do I want to know?”

He chuckled. “Military slang. Tail, rear end—”

She held up a hand. “I get the point.”

They climbed into a white Viper with tinted windows and Gabe whisked them to her apartment with his usual Mach speed.

She reached for the handle, but he stopped her. “I check it out first.” He thrust out his hand. “Keys?”

She pulled them from her purse and slapped them into his palm. She might owe him her life, but his macho routine set her teeth on edge.

Gabe opened his door. “If anything happens, hit the horn.” He sauntered around the front bumper with confident grace. In the blink of an eye, he disappeared into the bushes.

Minutes passed. Tessa fidgeted. Should he be taking so long? Had something happened? Maybe she should go find him. She gripped the door handle.

Before she could open the door, Gabe reappeared and swung it wide. “Are you the only tenant in this building?”

“Yes. There’s a small music store on the ground floor but it closes at four. I live in the loft above.”

He shifted into “doing business mode.” Body taut, his alert gaze scanned the area. With his right hand tucked under his black leather jacket, he escorted her into the elevator. There was no amusement in him now, only deadly purpose. She shivered. Under his carefree exterior lurked a competent, dangerous cop.

The elevator doors slid open. A massive gun appeared in his hand. He preceded her into the one-room loft. “Uh, Tessa? I hate to tell you this, but unless you’re a really messy housekeeper, somebody tossed your place.”

Her possessions lay strewn about the apartment, everything viciously rifled, and then discarded like worthless trash. Tessa’s knees wobbled and she clutched the kitchen counter for support.

“Easy, sweetheart.” Gabe grasped her arm to steady her, his eyes dark with concern. “It’s okay.”

“Those criminals were in my home. They pawed through my things—”

“They’re long gone.” He squeezed her arm reassuringly. “I’ll make a call and have this cleaned up in two hours.”

“But—”

Something thudded against the window.

Before she could turn, his foot swept Tessa’s legs out from under her. His arms wrapped around her waist and took her down. Holding her on top of him, he hit the floor. In a split second, he rolled her beneath him, the back of her head cradled in his palm. “Don’t move,” he whispered.

Heart hammering, she lay under his taut body. His clean, male scent assailed her senses. She fought to gasp in air, but her breathlessness had nothing to do with his weight on top of her and everything to do with his nearness.

His gun edged past her cheek. He pressed her face into his shoulder. “Shh. Don’t move.”

A chorus of plaintive meows shattered the tense silence.

Relieved laughter burst out of her. “Andrew, Lloyd and Webber.”

He glanced at her, disbelief etched on his features. “Andrew, Lloyd and Webber?”

“The music store owner’s cats.” She grinned. “When she leaves, they climb the fire escape and beg for snacks.”

“Cats.” Gabe breathed out a sigh. His body relaxed.

Intimately joined from shoulder to hip, Tessa stared up at him. The golden afternoon light gilded the planes of his face, emphasizing the cleft in his chin. Her gaze roamed over his sculpted mouth. Remembering his brief, exciting kiss, she licked her suddenly dry lips.

He groaned. She jerked her gaze up and saw his smoky green stare fastened on her mouth.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he urged, his voice a hot, husky whisper as he touched his lips to hers. His fingers lightly traced her cheekbones, caressed the curves of her ears. No one had ever touched her with such gentleness, such aching tenderness. Her body melted like warm honey.

His moist breath feathered over her temples, and her lashes floated down in languid surrender. She was rewarded by a soft kiss on each eyelid. His lips journeyed along her jawline, nibbled behind her ears and down her neck, heating her body, heating her blood. She basked in the delicious sensation. Her mouth parted in a sigh.

Gabe teased her lower lip with his velvet tongue. He bit gently, then suckled the sensitized flesh, wringing a moan from her. His mouth tempted, enticed, seduced—and she wanted more. She opened to him and his tongue glided inside, stroking slow and gentle against hers, inviting her response. Her stomach fluttered at the minty taste of him, cool, and yet at the same time, unbearably hot. Fire scorched her nerve endings, every inch of her alive and quivering. More alive than she’d ever been.

Tentatively, she returned his kiss, her tongue meeting his in a seductive duet. His breathing quickened, and he explored her mouth with a sensual, thorough expertise that shattered her control.

She wanted, needed, like she’d never needed before. She couldn’t get enough. Her arms slid around his neck, urging him closer. She moaned into his mouth, and his low answering murmur vibrated through her.

Reality slammed into her with a jarring crash. Her heart stopped, then kicked into painful, irregular thrusts. She was kissing a man she barely knew—while engaged to another! She tore her mouth from his and shoved at his chest. “Get off me!”

He frowned in confusion. “Tessie? What’s wrong?”

Dazed, and livid with herself, she lashed out with the only weapon she had. “Maybe everyone was right to question me about you after all.”

He froze, his eyes darkening. “I didn’t force you. You wanted that as much as I did.”

“I most certainly did not,” she lied. If she admitted it, that would make her like Vivienne, and she would not go there.

He was trembling. Had she done that to him? “Baby, your brain might be clinging to denial, but your body sure as hell knows what it wants.” He jumped up and stalked to the other side of the room. “Get packed.”

She clambered to her feet. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

He prowled toward her, all lean muscles and dangerous grace. “This is not an optional exercise. Pack, or I’m hauling you out right now without whatever you need.”

“I won’t—” she started, then thought better of pushing him. He looked furious enough to follow through, and she had no doubt who would win. Provoking a confrontation was foolish. Pivoting, she marched to the closet and grabbed a new suitcase, purchased for her honeymoon. She threw it on the bed, and began flinging in clothing at random.

An echoing note from her baby grand piano made her jerk her head up. He was seated at the oak bench. “What do you play?”

“Music,” she snapped.

“Don’t be mad.” Looking as lost and bewildered as she felt, he gave her a shaky smile. “I couldn’t have stopped myself from kissing you right then if my life had depended on it.” He cleared his throat and his gaze slid away. “I was out of line. I apologize.”

Confusion swirled through her, her muddled feelings tangled in a knot. She shoved a taupe sweater on top of the growing pile. “I’m promised to another man. A good man. You can’t just kiss me whenever you get the urge. I need to be able to trust you.”

“You can trust me, Tessa.” He returned her gaze, his jade eyes dark with suppressed emotion. He held up a two-fingered salute. “I won’t kiss you again. Scout’s honor.”

“You were a Boy Scout?”

His gaze sidled away again. “Not exactly.”

He looked so much like a little boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar, she couldn’t help herself. She chuckled. “You are something else, Bond, Gabe Bond.”

“I believe you used the word nice?” He wiggled his brows at her.

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