THE DANFORTHS: MARC, TANYA & ABE

The Laws of Passion

LINDA CONRAD

Terms of Surrender

SHIRLEY ROGERS

Shocking the Senator

LEANNE BANKS

www.millsandboon.co.uk

The Laws of Passion

LINDA CONRAD

LINDA CONRAD

was inspired by her mother, who first gave her a deep love of stories. “Mum told me I was the best liar she ever knew. And that’s saying something for a woman with an Irish storyteller’s background,” she says. Linda was a stockbroker and certified financial planner but has been writing contemporary romances for six years now. Linda’s passions are her husband, her cat, Sam, and finding time to read cosy mysteries and emotional love stories.

Visit Linda’s website at www.LindaConrad.com or write to her at PO Box 9269, Tavernier, FL 33070, USA.

This book is dedicated to romance lovers

everywhere! But especially to my supporters in

the Rio Grande Valley of Texas: Bill and Clare

Braden along with so many others.

Thank you for everything!

Prologue

She’d be damned if some kid was going to tell her how to do her job.

No way was Dana Aldrich going to stand still for having this assistant’s assistant insist she change into something more ‘suitable’. As far as she was concerned, jeans were exactly right for this assignment. The newbie could just go do something useful…like… like… soak his head.

“Look, Special Agent Aldrich,” the assistant continued unwarily. “Your suspect is accustomed to dating fashion models. To get him to talk you’d better look like one.”

Before she could open her mouth to tell him what she really thought of his suggestions, the office door swung wide and in strode the man whose opinion she valued above all others. Special Agent-In-Charge, Steve Simon, who was currently acting as the SAC for the Atlanta field office.

“SAC Simon, good to see you.” She kept the excitement over seeing her old friend out of the tone in her voice.

“Are you having a problem, Special Agent Aldrich?”

“Not a bit, sir,” she replied as she straightened up. “I’m just preparing for a new assignment and this yahoo wants to tell me how…”

“Excuse us a minute, Mr. Renuart.” Steve shot Dana a quick look meant to keep her quiet while the administrative assistant took his leave.

“It’s not like you to balk at instructions, Dana,” Steve said, once the door was closed. “This new assignment you’ve drawn is politically sensitive. Marcus Danforth’s father is an important businessman in this state. And he’s also the front-running candidate for the U.S. Senate seat.”

“I understand that,” she told him. “But daddy Abraham Danforth’s youngest son is not above the law. And Marcus Danforth should be the first to know it, too— considering that he’s the corporate attorney for his family’s company.”

“Being accused of racketeering and being guilty are two different things, Dana. You know that.”

She did know that very well. But she was also well aware that children of the extremely rich very often grew up spoiled. Maybe this one wanted to compete with his older brothers in the moneymaking department. And maybe he wanted it badly enough not to care how he went about it.

“What I know is that we’ve been trying to make a case against this cartel. We’ve had informants tell us that they’re using the coffee suppliers as a front for money laundering…and are probably using their shipping company to bring drugs into the country. But we can’t prove it.”

Steve nodded. “Every time we get close, an informant dies. That doesn’t exactly make it easy to get others to tell us what they know.”

“Well, if Marcus Danforth knows anything, I’ll get to the truth.” It was her job to find informants and offer them deals. “Is my cover all set?”

“Your credentials and backstory are on Renuart’s desk. I’ve obtained the intro you’ll need to stay close to Marcus.” Steve stopped and put a hand on her shoulder. “Be vigilant, Dana. I’m not concerned about Marcus Danforth being violent. If anything, I truly believe his life might be in danger. But politics and drugs can be a deadly mixture.”

He smiled at her. “And I don’t want to lose my best undercover special agent.”

“Don’t worry,” she said as she picked up her denim jacket. “As long as I don’t have to wear spike heels, nothing is going to keep me from getting Danforth to roll over. That’s my job and I’m the best at it.”

Yep. Rich kid and Harvard grad, Marcus Danforth, had just better watch out. She was ready to go to work.

One

“God, Adam, do I ever need a shower,” Marc Danforth said, as he and his brother stepped out of the Chat-ham County Jail and strode toward the parking lot.

“We’ll have you home in a jiffy.” Adam handed him his coat jacket. “There seems to be a nip in the air all of a sudden. Sorry I had to park so far away.”

Marc thought the early October air felt wonderful. Better than any air he’d ever breathed. He reveled in the ability to fill his lungs with the free oxygen.

“No sweat. I needed the walk anyway.” Marc shrugged into his jacket. “I never figured a few hours in a jail cell could be so bad. I appreciate you coming to get me.”

Marc felt a slight chill and stuffed both hands into his pockets. In one, he found the silk tie he’d been wearing yesterday—just where he’d left it. Well, at least the cops had an honest property system.

“No problem,” Adam said. “Dad was here, too, most of the time. But when the reporters started showing up, I convinced him to slide out the backdoor. He said he’d talk to you later.”

“I’ll bet he’s not real thrilled with me.” Marc figured his father would probably be incensed that this arrest would cast his Senate campaign in a bad light.

“Ian is with him right now.” Adam pulled his keys from his pocket and showed Marcus which way to walk toward the car. “It’s clear to all of the family that this is a frame-up by the drug cartel. Ian’s been fighting them off for nearly a year. First the threats, then that explosion and now this. Dad knows our battles have nothing to do with his campaign.”

Marc nodded and breathed a sigh. Nothing much had mattered in his life for a long time. But family still mattered.

Family. He thought of the beautiful woman he’d met in his brother’s office just a day earlier. He’d never seen Adam serious about a woman before, but he was willing to bet this relationship was going to last a while. “Does Selene know about my arrest?”

Adam smiled wryly. “I was with her when Dad called.”

“Oh, hell.” Marc blew out a weary breath, realizing what that meant. “A thousand apologies aren’t going to be enough, are they?”

“Not nearly.”

The tone almost made Marc laugh. Almost. A new thought struck, sobering him instantly. “It’s…it’s not possible that Selene’s father is involved in this, is it?”

Adam shook his head. “Van Gelder certainly has his sleazy moments and dirty politics seems to be his way of life. But even he wouldn’t stoop this low to win a Senate seat.”

After a little thought, Marc was sure Adam was right. But his brain wasn’t thinking too clearly right now. He was trying to stay confident that he would be found innocent of these made-up charges. But his career…hell…his whole life was on the line.

“Have you thought about hiring a high-profile lawyer?” Adam asked. “I mean, having your friend from the state Bar Association at your bond hearing was fine, but you’re going to need a powerful criminal attorney to win this case.”

Marc drove his hand through his greasy hair and winced. “The only thing I know for sure is that I won’t be my own lawyer. I’m a damned good corporate counsel. But that doesn’t mean I know anything about criminal law. Even if I did, the old saying that ‘a man who hires himself as an advocate gets a fool for an attorney’is true.”

“Well, Dad can suggest some good firms. And you have a few days to get yourself together before you worry about getting a lawyer.”

“Like hell.” Marc stopped in the middle of the parking lot and turned to his brother. “I intend to find the evidence that proves me innocent. I have to clear my name. And I have to do it before the drug cartel buries the information so deep I can never dig it out.”

Suddenly he felt a determination that startled him. He’d been sleepwalking through his life for the last year, dedicating himself to his work and nothing else. But he didn’t have that luxury anymore. No more feeling sorry for himself. His freedom depended on it.

Both brothers looked up as a car squealed around the corner and headed down the parking lot lane toward where they were standing. Each of them absently backed up a step to let it pass.

The car slowed and stopped right in front of them. It was a late model four-door sedan. In Marc’s opinion, the nondescript white, American-made vehicle looked just like an unmarked cop car should look. He groaned quietly and prepared himself for another hassle with the police.

The driver’s door was on the far side away from them, so they couldn’t see who was driving. While the car continued to idle, the door opened and out stepped a long, lanky female. Dressed in jeans, boots and a denim jacket, she looked serious and tough—except for the riot of curly black hair that hung halfway down her back.

If this was a cop, she might as well take him in right now. His thoughts could get him arrested—again.

All he could think of was being able to touch those soft, wild curls. Running his hands through that silk and burying his face in it as if it were an ebony pillow. He didn’t suppose that was exactly what had brought her here, though.

“Marcus Danforth?” she asked in a whiskey-soft voice.

He closed his mouth and nodded. “That’s me. And this is my brother, Adam. He doesn’t have anything to do with these racketeering charges, however.”

The woman walked around the front of the car and held out her hand. “Glad to meet you. The name’s Dana Aldrich.”

She shook his hand and then turned to Adam. While she was shaking his brother’s hand, Marc’s fingers could still feel the strong, cool grasp of hers. And he wondered why anything so firm and businesslike should seem so erotic.

“Are you with the police?” Adam asked.

“No.” She smiled at Adam but the cheer didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m a private investigator. I work with your father’s bodyguard, Michael Whittaker, on special cases. He’s hired me to watch over your brother until the trial.”

“What did you say?” Marc choked. This woman was definitely not what he thought of when someone said the word bodyguard. “I don’t need a bodyguard. And no offense, Miss, but you don’t look like the bodyguard type.”

Adam ignored his remarks and asked a question of his own. “Can we see your ID, please?”

“Sure thing.” She dug into her back pocket and came up with a leather case. “And I’m a damn good bodyguard, if I do say so myself.”

Marc watched over his brother’s shoulder while he studied the photos on both her state private investigator’s license and driver’s license. Adam handed them back.

“Give us a second, will you, Ms. Aldrich?” Adam took his elbow and escorted him down past three or four parked cars. “You buying this story of hers?” he inquired of Marc once they were out of earshot.

“Yeah, I guess so. Why would she lie?”

“Any number of reasons. In fact, she could be a tabloid reporter just looking for a good story.”

Marc considered that possibility. “That’s not what my gut tells me. But if you’re concerned, call Michael and ask him if he sent her. I’d be interested to know why he thinks I need a bodyguard. And why he would send me one that was such a knockout.”

Adam grinned. “I’ll do just that.” He took his cell phone from its place on his belt clip. “You go back and keep her talking.”

“No problem there. Take your time.” As Marc walked toward her, he thought about what exactly having a female bodyguard might entail. And he wondered just how much of his body she might want to guard.

Dana glanced over her shoulder through the rear window and cut the wheel to the left. It was late for rush-hour traffic, but some of the roads were still clogged with cars.

“Are you hungry?” she asked Marcus, who sat quietly in the passenger seat beside her. “I thought we could stop somewhere and maybe miss some of this traffic.”

As she drove onto the interstate, Dana relaxed her shoulders. It had been ridiculously easy to talk Marcus into letting her be his bodyguard. His brother, Adam, had been a little more leery, but he’d given in after he called Michael Whittaker and verified her story.

Adam wasn’t the brother that interested her, however. She’d done a lot of research on Marcus Danforth for this assignment. But nowhere in the reams of paperwork about him did it say that he had fascinating chestnut eyes.

Or that his voice would be a dreamy baritone that brought out captivatingly sensual sensations in her. She shook her head a couple of times, trying to dislodge the strange impressions.

Her thoughts simply never turned to lustful cravings—never. She was too tough to allow such things. Clearly, she shouldn’t think about that stuff when it came to a suspect. Marcus was a job, and she was a professional.

“I’m starved,” he replied with a smile. “Fortunately, I didn’t get a chance to eat jailhouse food. But, right now, all I want to do is go home. I think there might be some things in the refrigerator that’ll be fresh enough to eat. I could fix us some eggs…after I take a shower, of course.”

“Okay. That’ll be fine. But you’ll have to give me directions to your place.”

“Just keep heading south for about twenty miles. I’ll tell you when to get off the interstate.”

Despite her momentary lapse into a ridiculously lust-filled haze over the man, her cover had held. Apparently, Steve had convinced his old army buddy, Michael, that the FBI wasn’t simply out to prove Marcus guilty. An investigation might prove him innocent, as well.

And, moreover, it might be prudent to have a bodyguard around to help keep Marcus alive while he awaited his trial.

So she was in. But she intended to do everything in her power to find the evidence that would make the case hold. She felt sure this rich playboy lawyer was somehow involved in money laundering for the drug cartel.

She knew Marcus came from a very wealthy family with all the money in the world to hire legions of lawyers and private investigators. And Dana was determined to get to the evidence first so she would have a bargaining chip to help convince him to turn on his racketeering buddies and become an informer.

That is…if she could keep herself focused on the assignment and off Marcus’s intense brown eyes.

Glancing into the rearview mirror, Dana caught sight of the same black SUV that she’d noticed earlier. “Hope you don’t mind if we take a detour. Hang on.” She whipped the wheel hard to the left and stepped down on the gas.

“What the hell?” Marcus jerked his head around to stare at her as she ripped in and out of traffic.

He cursed under his breath when she two-wheeled it past a car going seventy, hit the next exit ramp and locked the brakes. He struggled to balance himself on the seat while Dana maneuvered the boxy sedan down the ramp and blasted past the stop sign at the bottom.

She finally slowed down to the speed limit and looked around. “You have any idea of where we are?” she asked.

“That was some driving exhibition,” he muttered. “What do you think you were doing?”

“Saving your butt. The driver of the car that was following us didn’t look like any Sunday driver.”

“A car was following us?”

Dana nodded, pulled into a convenience store’s lot out by the air pumps and shut off the engine. “I understand you have some involvement with a drug cartel. I’m no expert, but I’ve seen the kind of cars those guys drive around town. A car like that had been following us since we pulled away from the jail. I figured it was time to shake them loose.”

Was she kidding? “The drug cartel…why on earth would they be following me?”

“Maybe they’re afraid you’ll turn state’s evidence against your friends. Have the feds offered you a deal for information yet?”

He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and tried to think. “I spent all morning in interrogation. But no one mentioned any deals. I got the distinct impression they already had plenty of evidence against me. At my arraignment, it sounded like the federal prosecutor’s office wasn’t interested in any more information…or any deals.”

She’d turned in her seat to face him, and he noticed that her body seemed poised for action. Ready to fight or flee at any wrong move. Tense and in perfect control of herself and the situation. This was some bodyguard that Michael had hired.

Now that Marc’s breathing was steadier, he decided to covertly study her, trying to remember everything she’d said. “Did you just say something about the cartel thinking I would turn on my friends? I don’t have any connection to the cartel. I don’t even know anyone that’s in a cartel. Why would you think I did?”

“You were arrested for racketeering, weren’t you?”

“Yes, but I’m innocent. I’ve been framed.” Damn. The woman had the most gorgeous dark brown eyes he’d ever seen, but if she didn’t believe in him… “Look, Dana. If you believe I’m guilty of what they say, maybe we’d better rethink this bodyguard deal.”

She twisted in her seat and checked out the back window then turned the key in the ignition before she answered him. “I’m not paid to believe anything, pal. I’m a professional. It’s my job to keep you alive.”

Backing out of the space, she never looked at him, but her voice was strong. “You need a bodyguard and I’m the best. It doesn’t matter what I think.”

He laid a hand on her forearm. “It matters to me. Will you at least give me a chance to prove it to you?”

She stopped the car and stared down to where his hand touched her arm. “I’m just your bodyguard. I’ll be right beside you until the trial. If you find any new information, I’ll be there to see it.” She glanced up and for a split second there was an odd expression on her face, then she tugged her arm out from under his hand.

In that instant he’d seen a different kind of emotion in her eyes. He’d begun to think of her as simply tough and beautiful. But buried deep in that gaze was something more.

Her expression reminded him of buried yearnings and crazy childish desires. It was totally out of context with the controlled and strong person he was beginning to know.

He’d seen a scared little girl buried deep in those eyes. A girl looking for someone who would love and care about her. It made him want to protect her. Made him want to insist she stop the car so he could change places and drive her around. Made him have a crazy vision of moving in front of her while bad guys pointed guns in her direction.

“So…” she began. “Let’s get on with it.”

The sexy, “tough guy” was back. And just that fast, Marc’s protective impulses turned to something more primitive. Visions of her in bed, tangled up in his arms, appeared in his head.

“Yeah, okay. We’ll talk about it.” If he could manage to get past the pictures in his head—and also past some strong impulses a lot lower on his body, too.

“If I head south on this surface street, can we get to your place by the back roads?” she asked.

He nodded, but couldn’t find his voice. Whoo boy. It had been a long time since he’d felt anything at all. Now suddenly he had tender images and sexual fantasies about a woman he’d just met?

These emotions must be originating from the events surrounding his arrest. Adrenaline, from fighting for his freedom, must be their root cause. He was just over stimulated, that’s all.

Well, he had to put a lid on all of these powerful sensations. His life depended on being clear and focused.

And now that he thought about it a little more, Dana might be erotic as hell and have a body built for making love, but what did he really know about her? Something just didn’t sit right. And he decided to find out what it was.

“This is your place?” Dana was thoroughly amazed.

She couldn’t remember the last time anything had been a real surprise—well, if she didn’t count her strange thoughts about kissing Marcus earlier.

Kissing? Was that what she’d wanted to do with him? In reality, she’d had no idea of where her lusting might lead. Having only just read and heard about most of that sexual stuff, she’d never experienced very much of it first hand. So the image of kissing a man she’d just met was odd.

“Yes. This is home. I can’t tell you how grateful I am to see it again,” he told her, while trying to conceal a sigh.

She shook off the images of putting her lips to his and looked through the windshield at the one-story ranch house, surrounded by grass and sitting in the middle of several acres of fenced land. It was much smaller than the house she’d imagined he would live in. And it was certainly smaller than the Danforth family’s mansion, Crofthaven.

As she drove down the paved driveway, past fences and a few grazing animals, she tried to judge the house’s size. With clean lines and stucco exterior, it seemed very suburban for a rich-man’s son. It was probably a three or four bedroom home and it looked fairly new.

Really, she had no business thinking of a three-bedroom house as small. Although not a mansion; compared to the rat-infested twelve-by-twelve room in Atlanta where she’d grown up, this place would qualify as a castle.

“What do you do with all this space?” She’d checked out the sea of grass that was the front yard, enclosed by both chain-link fence and pretty white-wood fence posts, and now saw a building in the distance that might be a garage or a barn in back of the main house.

He chuckled at her question. “It’s not much, I know. But it’s a farm. My farm.”

“You mean you grow stuff here? Like fruit and vegetables that come out of the ground? Really?”

She pulled up in front of the house and stopped. Turning to see why he hadn’t answered her yet, Dana was shocked by the wide grin on his face. It made him look so appealing that she nearly threw herself into his arms.

He chuckled, and she straightened her spine.

“I’ve got a couple of peach trees,” he said cheerfully. “So I guess that qualifies as fruit. Last summer I grew tomatoes and zucchini and tried growing one stalk of corn. Maybe you could count those as vegetables.”

Again he chuckled, but this time it seemed more like he was laughing at himself. “Mostly I raise a few sheep and some chickens. It’s not a very big operation but I’m happy here.” He opened his door and, unfolding his tall frame from the front seat, he stepped out and stretched.

“Oh. Farm animals,” she said, with what she figured was a truly stupid look on her face.

Everything she knew about farming you could put in a teacup. A small one. She never figured that a rich guy like this would like living the country life. All of a sudden her investigator’s instincts kicked in.

In the long haul, she never trusted what she saw at first glance. And over her lifetime, she’d come to realize that rich people couldn’t be trusted if it was a question of making money. So this whole domestic scene made her wary and nervous. What was he really doing way out here in the boondocks?

Dana slipped the key from the ignition and carefully got out of the car. The sunset was casting shadows against the house and shrubbery. Nervous and wondering who else might be around, she turned to lock the car and immediately heard a crazy commotion behind her.

Before she could turn back to see what was going on, Marcus yelled, “Dana! Watch out!”

She swiveled, pulled her revolver out of its holster and grasped it firmly in her hand before she made the full turn.

“No! For God’s sake, Dana. Don’t shoot him.”

The next thing she knew, she was flat on the ground, staring up at a ferocious set of snarling teeth.

Two

“Laddie, heel!” Marcus shouted. “Get off of her, you big lummox.”

Dana rolled out from under the collie and got to her feet. She checked her weapon and reholstered it while the oversize dog sat on his haunches, wagging his tail and breathing hard.

“I’m sorry about that,” Marcus quickly told her. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. What made him jump me that way? Is he a guard dog? I’ve never heard of anyone using a collie for that kind of thing.”

“Laddie? No. He’s a big wimp. But he’s good with the sheep.” Marcus bent low to rub the dog’s head and gave him a quick hug. “Did you miss me, boy?”

Marcus stood and turned back to Dana. “He’s really just a big puppy. I’ve tried to train him not to jump up on visitors, but obviously we have some more work to do.”

She lowered her chin and nodded once. “Right. Well, no harm done.”

He took a second to study her again. Dana was much more than just a bodyguard. Marc was sure of it.

“That was some quick action with the gun, slick,” he chided her. “Where’d you learn to draw like that?”

Dana adjusted her jacket down over the holster again before she answered. “Would you believe anyone can do that with a lot of practice?”

He narrowed his eyes at her.

“No? I guess you wouldn’t,” she sighed. “Let’s just say that handling weapons is one of my many talents.”

“Uh-huh. And driving is another one of your many talents?” The minute he said it, his mind wandered off to what other kind of talents she might possess. Or which ones he could bring out in her…if he had a chance to do all the things with her that he’d been imagining.

“I learned to drive that way in bodyguard training. It’s a good thing to know if you anticipate a potential kidnapping.”

That stopped the images. “Do you anticipate a kidnapping?”

She shook her head. “It’s not something a bodyguard can ever ignore. But in this case, I think that an execution-style killing might be more likely. Either way, we’ll be prepared.” She headed toward the front door.

Man. Talk about throwing a wet blanket on his ardor. “I’ll open up the house for you and give you a quick tour, but then I have to see to the animals,” he finally managed after swallowing hard a couple of times.

Her eyes widened and her brows shot up. “You take care of them yourself?”

“Sure I do. Who else?” He suddenly thought back on the last couple of days. “Well, there is my neighbor who looks after them if I’m gone. He’s a full-time farmer, not a hobby farmer like most of the rest of us around here.”

“I need to stay with you while you tend your animals,” she told him. “If you want to do that before you clean up, then I’ll go with you. What exactly do you have to do?”

She was too much, this tough cookie with curly soft hair and a spine made of steel. Intelligent and athletic to be sure. But she also had a tiny hint of softness behind those big brown eyes.

“You’ll see.” Marc unbuttoned the top button on his shirt and threw his jacket over the little bench beside the front door.

Then he turned to Laddie. “Come on boy. Time to work for your supper.”

As they walked toward the sheep pasture, he began to wonder about Dana and her background. “Have you ever had a pet to take care of?”

“Never. I don’t have time for such things.”

“Not even when you were a kid?”

She looked away and hesitated, apparently trying to decide how much of herself she was willing to reveal.

At last she gave in and shrugged her shoulders. “Where I was raised, animals were too much of a luxury. I knew a couple of kids from the block who had dogs.” Her eyes were dark and stormy. “But my father always used to say pets were a waste of money and that their families would be better off eating them rather than feeding them.”

Marc winced at the thought. “Where were you raised?”

“Somewhere far removed from where you were brought up,” she replied with sarcastic fervor. “Not all of us are lucky enough to have mansions and luxuries while we’re growing up. The place where we lived was smaller than one of your guest bathrooms, I’m sure.”

“Hey. Take it easy. I didn’t mean to insult you. It’s just that the thought of eating a pet is a little hard for me. I have enough trouble thinking that someday I’ll have to sell off some of my sheep. So far, all I’ve managed to do is have a man come in to shear them in the spring.”

“My father…thought about things a lot differently than your average man.” A couple of beats went by in silence. “So, you think of your sheep as pets?” she asked with an abrupt change of topic.

“I try not to, but sometimes it isn’t easy to treat them like a business proposition, either.”

They’d arrived at the gate between pasture and pen. Marc swung open the gate and whistled for Laddie to get around behind the small herd and begin moving them toward the pen.

“Come on,” he urged her. “I’ll show you how to set out their feed. And then you can learn how to clean out a chicken coop. Won’t that be fun?”

She threw him such an incredulous look that he had to laugh. Wherever she’d grown up, she certainly hadn’t been raised on a farm.

But the surprise was that she was willing to get her hands dirty. She dug right into the chores. He’d never met a woman quite like her.

Dana was so far removed from the last woman in his life that it was almost a joke. Nothing, however, about that miserable affair had been a bit funny.

Dana took the last dish from Marcus, dried it and put it in the cabinet. She turned and watched him clean the counters. He was such an intense kind of guy that this domestic scene seemed slightly off.

While he’d been in the shower, she’d done a cursory search of the house. No one else was here at the moment and, judging by the absence of anyone else’s personal effects, he lived alone. She hadn’t had the time to go through his papers or files, but she’d noted that his answering machine had an even dozen messages blinking.

She wanted to find out more about him, before she did anymore digging. “Whatever made you decide to live on a hobby farm?”

When he turned to her with a slightly embarrassed smile, she felt a lump forming in her throat. She couldn’t figure out why the handsome and outgoing man’s sudden red flush should bother her so much. But she felt her own pink-tinged blush rushing up from her chest and spreading over her neck and face.

He looked good enough to eat for dessert. His hair was still wet from the shower and had darkened to a deep coffee color. He’d changed into a pair of jeans. No shirt. No shoes. Just a worn pair of work jeans.

His well-earned muscles rippled with the slight sheen of sweat, making her want to touch him—to learn the ins and outs of every crevice on his body. He was the first man that had ever made her tremble at the sight of a bare chest.

But she couldn’t allow herself to dwell on his formidable body, she chided herself. He was her suspect and a potential informer. She had to play this smart.

“I don’t quite know how to answer you,” he replied. “I work hard at my job and don’t have many hobbies…anymore. I bought this place a couple of years ago because I thought it would make a good place to raise a family.”

He hung up his dish towel and sat on a stool at the kitchen counter. “About a year ago I…uh…changed my mind about the family. But then I thought the place seemed lonely without youngsters around, so I bought a few lambs. And here we are—a real working farm.”

“You don’t mind the work?”

“Not at all. It relaxes me. I’ve found I love to work the ground and care for the animals. It’s so basic. So elemental and idyllic. And a small place like this doesn’t take much time.”

She hung up her own towel. “I like working my body hard too. When I’m concentrating on the work, the rest of the world disappears. It’s quite powerful.”

“Exactly.” Marc tried not to react to her words, but the image of her working her powerful body while on top of his body just wouldn’t go away.

The silence between them was tense for a minute.

Finally, Dana broke the ice. “I checked your security system while you were in the shower. It’s a fairly good system. It should keep you safe.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “I had it installed when I moved in, but I keep forgetting to set the darn thing.”

“Not while I’m on the case, you won’t.”

“Will you be staying here with me?” It hadn’t occurred to him that this was a twenty-four hour a day job.

“Of course. Kidnappers and assassins don’t exactly operate in broad daylight or when it’s convenient for you.”

“But I’m going to be…uh…searching for evidence to prove my innocence.” He didn’t want anyone around if he had to break into someone’s office looking for evidence.

“Not a problem. I’ll be right there with you.”

“But…”

She didn’t let him finish his sentence, but waved him off instead. “That’s my job. I intend to keep you alive until the trial. And I don’t care what it takes.”

He thought she was the most adorable “tough guy” he’d ever laid eyes on. If he was really in more danger than merely being framed, he couldn’t have picked a better person to watch over him.

“Do you receive mail out here?” she asked.

“No. I have everything sent to my office.”

“That’s good. It might take them a little while to figure out where you live. We have some time.”

“Time? Time for what?” Now if that wasn’t a leading question, he didn’t know what was. But he knew exactly where he wanted it to lead.

“To prepare ourselves for an attack…more than just the alarm system. Do you own any weapons?”

“Guns? No way. I’ve always figured that in case of a break in, I’d probably get shot with my own gun.”

“How about Laddie? Will he bark if someone comes around to let us know there’s danger?”

“Hmm.” He thought of the overgrown, fluffy puppy and grinned. “Maybe. If we can keep him out of the house. He likes to sleep on the suede sofa. And he’s a pretty heavy sleeper, too.”

Dana threw her hands on her hips and grimaced. “For crying out loud. Haven’t you ever considered the possibility of a kidnapping before? You’re a wealthy and intelligent man, Marcus. That sort of thing can easily happen if you don’t pay attention.”

An unwelcome memory snuck up and jabbed him. “Yeah, I know that. One of my cousins disappeared a few years back. Victoria was a pain in the neck when we were kids, but she had turned into quite a beautiful teenager. The family figured when she was missing for a while that it was a kidnapping, but no ransom demand was ever made.”

“Disappeared? Was she ever found?”

He slowly shook his head. “Maybe she just ran away from home. But I doubt it. She didn’t seem unhappy.” Marc stood and stretched. “I guess I have been a little careless. But somehow you just don’t think things like that can ever happen to you.”

“Well then, I’d like to suggest that we spend no more time here at your farm than we have to. I’ll go out in a while and move my car out of sight. I’ll put it into the barn next to your SUV for the night. And we’ll keep the drapes drawn and lights dim. Tomorrow we can make other arrangements. All right?”

“Yes, I guess so. I do have the animals to worry about, however. But maybe I can ask my neighbor to keep an eye on them again.”

“Good idea. And I think you should let your answering machine pick up all your calls from now on.” Dana stood and shook the kinks out of her arms and legs.

She looked like a raw bundle of energy packaged into a long and beautiful body. The very air around her shivered with the powerful and electric vibes she threw off. Man, would he like to capture a little of that energy. She seemed so vital and sensual.

Marc couldn’t remember lusting after a woman the way he’d been lusting after Dana…not since…way back as a horny teenager. He’d been aroused since the first moment he’d seen her standing in the parking lot.

“By the way,” she interrupted his thoughts. “When I was checking your security, I noticed that you had a few phone messages on your answering machine. Maybe you should listen to them so you can clear the machine for more.”

“I imagine that’s my family wondering how I’m holding up after my unfortunate incarceration.”

“You have a big family, don’t you?”

“Enormous. There were five kids in my immediate family. And my aunt and uncle have four kids…plus a great guy they took in, who seems like just another brother now.”

He headed toward the den, but kept talking over his shoulder. “A couple of months ago we found out about an adult sister that none of us had known anything about. And just lately we’ve had a rash of weddings and engagements, adding spouses and potential spouses, with kids and babies coming along faster than you can think.”

“Whew! How do keep them all straight?” She tagged behind him down the hall.

“It’s easy when you’re born into it. I’m not sure how all the newcomers are going to get along with everyone else, though.” Marc flipped on the light in the den and went to his desk. “Do you have any siblings? Or were you lucky enough to be an only child?”

Dana wasn’t sure how to answer that. Just how much of herself did she dare lay open to him? Strangely enough, she really wanted to tell him the truth about herself.

This wasn’t a deep undercover operation. She’d been on several of those in the past. But her boss was convinced that Marcus was truly just a pawn of the drug cartel’s and not a major player in their operation.

Her job here was to find a way into Marcus’s confidence so that he would turn over any evidence he might have and then testify against the cartel in court. The more she was around him and the better she began to know him, though, the less she wanted to be undercover at all.

There were some things about the man that intrigued her. Things like a deeply injured look in his eyes that appeared whenever he thought no one was watching.

So…was he on the take from the mob? After all, the state’s attorney thought there was enough evidence against him to charge him with racketeering. But something about him—maybe it was the gentle way he had with his animals, or the rough and hungry looks he’d been throwing in her direction—just didn’t seem like most of the criminals she’d known in the past.

She’d been so sure at first that he was a spoiled rich man’s son who’d signed on with the bad guys to get what he wanted. Her training led her to make quick judgments about people and get to their real motives later.

Sometimes a special agent had to make life and death decisions based only on a cursory observation. And she had been observing Marcus—a lot. Now she just didn’t know what to think.

As the silence began to grow awkward, she opted to tell him the truth. “I was an only child. My parents are both dead now. I’m all the family I’ve got.” She took a moment and made a snap decision to trust him with another small piece of herself. “I like the solitary life. I’ve never been impressed with the way most families interact.”

Marcus scowled at her. “Not even your own?”

“Especially my own.”

He stepped closer, lifted a hand and grazed the line of her jaw with a knuckle. “That’s a sad commentary, Dana. It can be a wonderful thing to know there are people who care about you no matter what.”

A soft and concerned look moved into his eyes. Up this close, she could smell his tangy, fresh-sage scent and feel the heat emanating from his bare chest.

He kept on gently stroking her face and gazing into her eyes. Soothing and stirring. She felt her pulse begin to jackhammer and her senses went on hyperalert.

When he leaned closer and his eyes zeroed in on her mouth, the heat between them exploded. With a shake of her head, she caught herself before she fell into his arms. She had to remember that he was just part of the job.

Dana took a step back and averted her eyes toward his desk. She’d never before given herself over to a man. And she would definitely not be starting with someone who was a suspect in a case she was working.

“You’d better check your messages,” she said in a raspy voice. “Is it too warm in here for you?”

The dreamy look disappeared from his eyes, but he smiled and cocked his head toward her. “You’re hot? Why don’t you take off some of those clothes.”

Okay. She might be a virgin, but she wasn’t totally naive. That was a come-on she’d heard often enough before.

She rolled her shoulders and narrowed her eyes at him. “Just check your messages. I’ll be fine.”

He shrugged a shoulder, but the smile stayed put as he turned to punch the Play button on the machine.

The first couple of messages were from various family members asking him if he needed anything and to please call if he wanted company or a place to stay. The distress and genuine concern in their voices was quite evident.

Dana wasn’t sure how such obvious love amongst family members made her feel. It was an interesting side note to Marcus’s character profile. But deeper than that, and on a personal level, it almost made her feel…lonely.

“Marc? We need to talk.” A deep voice boomed out of the machine. “I just got a call from…well, it was about you. And it’s important that we discuss this as soon as possible. I’ll be at the office until ten or eleven o’clock tonight. I’d rather not talk about it over the phone, so why don’t you come over? Give me a call.”

The message clicked off and Marcus touched the button on his machine that erased the previous messages.

“Who was that?” she asked. If it was one of the cartel members, this might be the break she’d been waiting for.

“That was my brother, Ian.”

“It was? He sounded worried.”

“Yeah, he did, didn’t he?”

“Is he the one that heads up the family company?”

Marcus nodded. “I think I’d better go to the office and talk to him. Do you mind?”

Suddenly, it struck Dana that maybe their entire company was a front for the cartel. Were they all involved in money laundering? Perhaps the family was using Marcus as a scapegoat.

“I don’t mind at all,” she said. “In fact, I insist.”

“Great. I’ll go throw on a shirt and see you later.” He picked up his keys off the desk and started for the door.

“Hold on.” She grabbed his arm and swung him around. “You don’t go anywhere without me, remember? Like it or not, from now until your trial we’re stuck with each other as if we’d been put together with Crazy Glue. Get used to it.”

Three

Was he glad that Dana had insisted on coming along to the office? He couldn’t quite settle his thoughts when it came to her. But they were both about to leave for his meeting with Ian, just the same.

He wanted her to trust him and believe in him, though he had no idea why. But would she inhibit his efforts to prove himself innocent? He sighed, resigned to having her company whether he wanted it or not.

“How about if we take my SUV and I’ll drive?” he asked, as they locked the front door and set the alarm system.

She shook her head and headed for the driver’s side of her small, bland sedan. “No thanks. You don’t have the training, and the whole world already knows what kind of car you normally drive. In the protection business, the idea is to vary your routine…change cars, times and the routes to your regular haunts.”

Well, Marc had certainly found one thing he was not happy about. He didn’t like riding in her car. He wanted to drive himself around like usual, and he liked his normal routine. This whole business was really starting to suck.

He directed her to the Danforth corporate office building via the back roads and downtown side streets. The parking lot was all but empty at this time of night. A security van patrolled the exterior grounds and Ian’s car was parked in his normal spot.

“Nice office,” Dana said as she parked the car where he’d directed. “These brick buildings that are so common in old Savannah are very efficient. And I imagine all the trees and flowers make a nice impression on clients. Do you have many muggings or break ins in this part of town?”

He opened his car door and “tsked” at her. “You look at a beautiful historic building and fantastically lush landscaping and think of muggings? You’ve been in the bodyguard business too long, Ms. Aldrich.” He breathed deep and took in the sweet smell of honeysuckle that he’d loved since he was a kid.

She shrugged her shoulders, climbed out and locked her car. “To be the best at my job, you have to work at it twenty-four hours a day. Everything I see has some significance to the…uh…protection business. I don’t pay attention to the superficial things in this world.”

“You never take any time off to just enjoy yourself—to smell the flowers?” He slid his key into the door lock at the employee entrance and opened it. “What’s that old saying about all work and no play…?”

She grimaced and stepped ahead of him into the darkened downstairs hallway. “I don’t mind being dull. The job has all the excitement I need.”

While he led her down the hall toward the elevator behind reception, his heels clicked loudly against the polished-pecan floors. Again, Marc began to wonder about the intelligent and strong woman who’d become his bodyguard. Just what kind of person was she?

There seemed to be so much hidden about her. Did she have any kind social of life? Like, for instance, a husband or a boyfriend somewhere? When she’d talked about not caring much for family, he’d thought she had only meant her parents. Now he was becoming convinced that she was a real loner. With no one in her life who mattered.

And it was becoming very important to him to figure her out. If she’d let him, he wanted to be the one to show her how to relax and enjoy herself. To appreciate history and learn to see the beauty of the world around her. She was beginning to matter. But for the life of him, he couldn’t pin down the reason he cared so much.

That kind of reflection would have to come after he’d cleared his name. And kept himself out of jail. First things first.

The elevator reached the fifth floor and they stepped out onto the Persian carpet runner and headed in the direction of the CEO’s office. Marcus pointed out his own office down the hall the other way.

Ian was waiting for them at his desk. He stood when they came in and shot Marcus a wary glance.

“Ian, this is my new bodyguard, Dana Aldrich.”

“Yes, I heard all about her from Adam.” Ian turned to her. “How do you do, Ms. Aldrich. Michael Whittaker tells me he doesn’t know you personally, but he speaks quite highly of your reputation. Thank you for taking this job on such short notice.”

She shook his hand. “I’m glad to help.”

“Good.” Ian turned back to his desk. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a few things to say to my brother in private. You may wait in my reception area. I don’t think there’ll be any attempts on Marc’s life while he’s in my office.”

Dana straightened her spine and stood her ground. She turned to Marcus for his word on the matter. Marcus looked hesitant but didn’t jump in to ask her to stay.

“I won’t be in your way, Mr. Danforth,” she insisted to Ian. “But I believe a good bodyguard should know where all the threats are coming from. If what you have to say to Marcus pertains to his arrest or the charges against him, I’d like to be made aware of it at the same time.”

“Yes, Ian. I want her to stay,” Marcus finally urged. “She’s going to be with me as I find the evidence to prove my innocence. She might as well know what we’re up against.”

Ian laid a hand on his arm. “All right, baby brother. I guess you need as many people on your side as you can get right now. If that’s what you want, she can stay. Both of you have a seat.”

Ian eased into his huge leather chair and drove his fingers through his hair. “You’re not going to like what I have to say.”

Marcus leaned his big six-two frame toward the front of the high-backed visitor’s chair. “What’s wrong? Is it the family? Are they all okay?”

“Yes,” Ian told him. “Everyone is fine at the moment. Everyone but you.”

“It’s not Dad then? He can’t be happy about my arrest when he’s just about to swing this election. He’s still running ahead, isn’t he?”

“Dad’s not concerned about how your arrest will or will not affect his election chances. He’s concerned about you. We all are.” Ian hesitated a moment, then bit his lip.

Dana was astounded. Everything she’d ever read or heard about Ian Danforth said he was the self-assured and competent president of a national firm. But at the moment, he looked stung and unsure of himself. She sat back and waited to hear his story.

“I had a phone call a little while ago, Marc. From…”

“Don’t tell me. I’ll bet it was from our nemesis, Sonny Hernandez. I don’t have any doubts that he’s in on this frame-up. What did he want?”

“Excuse me,” Dana interrupted. “I know I said I’d just be quiet, but who’s this Sonny Hernandez?”

Marcus turned to her. “He a scum gopher for a drug cartel and a local coffee bean importer. Nasty piece of work he is, too. He’s been pressuring us to do business with the importer exclusively.”

“What kind of business?”

“He doesn’t just want to do business with our shipping company,” Ian told her. “He wants our help with laundering their dirty drug money.”

“Ah. Drug dealing is nasty stuff. What kind of pressure?” she asked, in as innocent tone of voice as she could manage.

“The threats started back in February,” Marcus replied. “Then in April they got a lot more personal when they blew up one of our warehouse offices.”

“Blew it up? An explosion? Was anyone hurt?” Dana had read about it in the files, but she wanted their take on who had done it.

Ian shook his head. “No. And so far the police haven’t found any clues as to who set it off. But we know who’s behind it.”

“You mean you think the importers blew up your building to coerce you into doing what they want?”

Ian scowled. “Yes and no. Yes, the explosion was meant to scare me into doing what they want. But no, it’s not coming from the local coffee bean people. Like Marc was saying, they’re just a front for a Colombian drug cartel. The cartel has threatened my life several times, and went so far as kidnapping an innocent woman who they mistook for my mistress. And when those tactics didn’t work, they framed my brother.”

Marcus stirred in his chair then addressed Ian. “So what did good old charming Sonny have to say tonight?”

“It wasn’t Sonny this time,” Ian told him. “The call was from the kingpin himself. Ernesto Estoban Escalante.”

Dana’s jaw dropped opened, but she covertly closed it and swallowed hard. Escalante? The most notorious drug lord in the world? The FBI had been hunting the man for nearly a decade. Every time they thought they had him, he’d drop back into the oblivion of the Colombian rain forests where his cartel ruled supreme.

And he had personally called Ian Danforth tonight? Suddenly everything changed for Dana. If what Ian and Marcus had told her was true, the Danforths were in big trouble. And she had stepped into something much larger than Marcus and his racketeering charge.

But she still wasn’t positive that the Danforths were innocents. What if Marcus had given in to the cartel to protect his brother? He could still make a good informant.

Dana kept her mouth shut and listened.

Ian was speaking to Marcus and shaking his head sadly. “I don’t know how to fix this for you, Marc. Escalante plainly told me that if I would help them launder their money through the coffee supplies that he’d get you off the hook. But…”

“The bastard as much as admitted to you that he framed me?” Marcus snapped.

“Yeah. I thought I’d lived through the worst they could throw at me. But…I can’t sit back and let you go to jail for something you didn’t do.” Ian grimaced and took a breath. “Besides, they won’t stop at that. Next they’ll probably start murdering all of us…one at a time.”

“You can’t be thinking of giving in to them now?” Marcus sounded stunned. “You can’t do that. I’m not going to jail for something I didn’t do. Don’t worry. I’ll find the evidence to prove my innocence. Just give me a little time.”

Dana just had to interrupt again to make a comment. “By any chance did you happen to get tonight’s phone call on tape?”

Ian narrowed his eyes at her. “I don’t normally tape my phone conversations, no.”

“Are you going to try getting the police involved with this again?” Marcus asked his brother. “They have to believe you by now.”

“They do believe us. But there’s nothing they can do without proof. All the leads we’ve given them have turned cold. The cartel is too powerful.” Ian took a deep breath and ran the back of his hand across his mouth. “And too dangerous. I’m not going to let any more of my family suffer out of some misguided sense of righteousness. I can’t. It’s not worth it.”

“Ian, please,” Marcus begged. “Give me at least a few days to find the proof. I promise you, I’m not going to jail…and we’ll find the evidence to stop this once and for all.”

Ian clenched his fists on his desk. Then he turned to Dana. “Can you guarantee me that you’ll keep him alive while he investigates this damned murdering drug lord?”

Dana hesitated for one second then answered him sharply. “I can guarantee you that as long as I am alive, Marcus will be fine. Nothing will happen to him.”

“Yeah? Well, I’d just as soon you didn’t die over my stupid pride, either.” Ian stood and started to pace. “All right, Marc,” he finally agreed. “I can put them off for a couple more weeks. But after that I give up. You are not going to do time for a crime you didn’t commit. Not as long as I can stop it.”

Marcus stood and went to put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Ian. We’ll beat them.” He turned and smiled at Dana. “And I’ll be all right. I have a guardian angel at my side.”

Dana stood, too. “I’ve never been called an angel before.” She set her jaw and turned to Ian. “But don’t worry, Mr. Danforth. I intend to see that all of you come out of this in one piece. You have my word.”

As both men stood speechless after that strange remark, Dana’s mind was already leaping into a plan. “Okay. Now. What can you tell me about your phone system? And after we check on that, I want you to tell me everything you remember about that phone call with Escalante.”

Marc checked to see that the employee door was locked as they left the office building. Then he followed a very antsy Dana while she cautiously climbed into her car and pressed the door-lock button as soon as he’d closed the door behind him.

She put her key in the ignition, but didn’t turn it. “There’s something I have to tell you,” she said softly.

“I had a feeling there might be.”

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and shifted slightly in her seat. “Yeah, you’re too smart not to have been guessing about me. And I’d also be willing to bet that Ian is on the phone to Michael Whittaker right this minute, demanding some answers.”

“You’re not a bodyguard, are you?”

She shook her head.

“Then who…?”

“I’m an FBI special agent, Marcus. I’ve been assigned to offer you a deal to turn over any information that could help the federal attorney convict the cartel.”

“FBI agent?” After his initial shock, he knew in his gut that what she’d said was true. “I suppose you can prove that?” he asked anyway.

“Not at the moment. I’ve been undercover…you understand. But I want to take you to someone who can prove it for me. He’s someone I think you should talk to.”

“Just a minute.” Marc’s mind was swimming with all the things she’d said. “Why are you telling me this now? What’s changed?”

“I’ve changed. I don’t think you’re guilty of racketeering anymore.”

“Gee, thanks.” He reached over and took her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. “You mean when I first told you I wasn’t guilty you thought I was lying?”

She pulled her chin from his grip, but turned in her seat to face him. “That’s how I was trained. Suspect everyone and trust no one. It isn’t personal. It’s just my job.”

Not personal? And here he’d been dreaming of making things between them as personal as you can get. He still wanted that. In fact, his fingers ached right now with wanting to touch her again.

“Okay, Dana. Let’s go see the man who can prove who you are.” This revelation of hers was going to take a bit of getting used to.

She bent to crank the ignition, but he suddenly thought of something and stopped her. “Hey. Dana Aldrich is your real name, isn’t it?”

“It’s the name I’ve always used,” she told him flatly. “That’s all I can tell you.”

Marc sat in stony silence while Dana drove them all over town, ending up only a few blocks from where they’d started. She’d made two mobile-phone calls, but he didn’t catch much from her side of the conversation.

A war was going on inside him. He was mad. Confused. Slightly frightened and…still desperate to find a way into Dana’s bed. She was totally different than any woman he’d ever known. And he’d never figured that he would be so attracted to a tough, professional law-woman.

In fact, he never figured he would be attracted to any woman ever again after that monumentally embarrassing fiasco of last year. Yet, here he was, lusting after a woman with long, soft curls and the biggest brown eyes he’d ever seen.

They finally pulled into a darkened garage behind a nondescript building on East Bryan Street and parked the car. “Where are we?” he asked.

“The FBI Resident Agency office. Luckily, my boss is here in Savannah from the Atlanta field office. I want him to meet you.”

They climbed the back stairs to the fourth floor. “The office is open at this hour?” he asked.

She shook her head and led him into a shadowed hallway. “The public reception area closes at five. We’re headed to a small conference suite in back.”

Dana opened a door for him to walk through. As he stepped inside, he saw a medium sized room, absolutely crammed with high-tech equipment. When his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he recognized state-of-the-art computers and a screen that seemed to be some kind of radar scanner. A young man was sitting in front of communications-style machines that blinked with lights and buzzed with noises.

But Dana didn’t acknowledge the man who was operating the computers. She walked right past the guy.

“This way.” Dana motioned Marc to follow her into a side room. “Good evening, SAC Simon,” she said as she closed the door.

“Dana.” A middle-aged man with steel blue eyes and a little gray at his temples stood and walked toward them. “And this must be Marcus Danforth. I’m Special Agent-In-Charge Steve Simon. Please just call me Steve.” He shook hands. “How’re you doing?”

“I’m not so hot, at the moment,” Marc grumbled. “This morning I was in jail, and tonight I seem to have been dropped into some kind of weird espionage movie. I’m not thrilled about either one.”

“Have a seat, son. I think we’d better talk.” Steve moved to the polished wood conference table and took a chair.

When the three of them were seated, Marc couldn’t wait to start asking questions. “Why am I here? What do you want from me?”

“You’re here in our covert operations office because Dana has disobeyed standard procedures and told you who she really is,” Steve replied. “You are also here because you may be able to help both your family and your country. Are you willing to listen to and then consider a proposition to do both of those things?”

Marc nodded his head but kept his mouth shut. He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten himself into this mess, but now he knew he needed advice on how to get out of it.

“Good. But first, I want to assure you that the woman you’ve known as your bodyguard is indeed Special Agent Dana Aldrich. I’ve already received a call from my old friend, Michael Whittaker, saying your brother Ian is determined to find out the truth about her. I’ll call Ian later and explain. We’ll probably be needing his assistance on this investigation anyway.”

Steve sat back in his chair and studied both Marc and Dana. “I understand your brother received a phone call tonight from Ernesto Escalante. If he is determined to get your family’s assistance in his schemes, there is no way you can escape his wrath. He’s one of the most dangerous men on earth. So far you have all been very lucky.”

“Lucky? I wouldn’t say that what we’ve been through qualifies as anything but bad luck.” Marc gritted his teeth in frustration. “Don’t tell me there’s no hope of besting the cartel. I refuse to believe it. I intend to get the proof I need to beat my frame-up.”

Steve smiled at him. “I believe you would try it. But you might die trying. And then what? Escalante would just keep the pressure on Ian to do what he wants. Killing off your family members one by one would be his next move.”

“That’s what Ian said.” Marcus was annoyed as hell now. There had to be a way out of this.

“Your brother is a smart man who’s been in a terrible bind. But I have an idea for something that might end your family’s terror right here. Will you listen?”

Marc sat up in his chair and looked from Dana to Steve and back again. “I’ll listen.”

Steve spent the next hour outlining a plan for him and Dana to investigate the whereabouts of Escalante and then for them to participate in a sting designed to capture the man and put an end to the blackmail once and for all. Marc wasn’t positive the plan would work. But he figured it was worth a shot. After all, he was the one family member that now had nothing to lose.

It was two a.m. when he and Dana left the FBI office and climbed back into her car. “Does this car really belong to you?” he inquired as he stifled a yawn.

“It’s a Bureau vehicle,” she told him. “It has a few modifications over the standard issue. It’ll do sixty in eight seconds flat. There are airbags across the front and on all doors.”

She smiled as they buckled up. “And it’s also equipped with a transmitter and GPS positioner that will work in a radius of up to three hundred miles.”

“Terrific.” Marc was becoming more irritable by the second. Regardless of being warned by her boss to obey Dana’s instructions at the risk of his life, he was tired and still furious that Dana had lied to him. Oh, he knew it was her job, but still…

“Where are we headed?” he scowled.

“To your farm. Now that I know for sure you’re not involved with the cartel, I’m convinced they have no reason to take you out…yet. They need you alive, temporarily, to use as a hold over Ian. So we should be fairly safe at your home for a while.”

Dana backed out of the garage and headed down the river road in the general direction of the farm. “Besides, you look like you’re about to drop. We’ll be able to form a clearer strategy after you get a good night’s sleep.”

Marc stewed in silence for the entire forty-five minutes it took them to travel what should’ve been a twenty-minute trip. Evidently, she was never going to drive in a straight line to any destination.

When they arrived, she pulled in behind the barn and they got out as she locked the doors. “I’ll check your SUV for bugs and tracking devices in the morning. We may need to use it as part of the sting.”

“Swell.” He grabbed her arm and swung her around to face him. “You owe me something. You’ve admitted you lied, and I want to know how many of the things you told me were true and what was just part of the game.”

In the clear light of a full moon, he saw her face flush with anger and her hands ball into fists. “I told you…it was all part of the job.”

She tried to jerk herself free from his grasp, but he tightened his grip. “No dice, sister. That’s not going to cut it anymore. I want to know who you are—underneath the tough special agent.”

“Don’t make a huge mistake before we even get started, Danforth. You’re asleep on you feet. It’ll all look better in the morning.”

“Maybe so, sugar. But I’m still going to want answers.”

She was right. It was a mistake to take out all his frustrations on her. But what the hell? He’d been dying to get his hands on her since the first instant she’d spoken his name in that spun-sugar voice of hers. And now he could feel her muscled upper arm flexing under his hand.

He wanted to touch her skin without the clothes. He wanted to see what she looked like standing naked before him. He wanted…

“Take your hand off me.” She slipped her keys into her pocket with her free hand. “And don’t call me sugar.” She turned her body away from him and jerked on her arm again.

“Oh. Excuse me. I meant Special Agent Sugar.” The wave of tenderness he felt was a complete surprise. But the wave of passion that pushed it aside with an erotic shove was nothing new. He’d been plagued by those sexy urges for most of this very long evening.

In one fell swoop, Marc swung her off her feet and into his arms. “Aw, the hell with it.” He forgot his irritation and forgot the rules of decency along with it. “Let’s just find out what’s real and what’s not—right now.”

Four

“Marcus?” The look on Dana’s face had to be pure amazement. Not so much because he’d physically assaulted her—they both knew she could’ve defended herself against him with little trouble.

No, she looked—self conscious. A bit frightened by her own lack of resistance, perhaps. Or maybe she was simply amazed because she’d let things get out of control. He wondered if she was feeling concerned by his actions…or if she felt as stunned by her own reactions as he did.

Lost in the sensual moment, Marc forgot everything as his blood heated and pulsed. He forgot about being arrested. He forgot she was an FBI agent. He surprisingly managed to even forget that he’d sworn off women forever.

“Dana.” Desire roughened his voice as they stared into each other’s eyes. He tried again. “Please….”

Never before had she heard anyone say her name in quite that same raspy, pleading kind of voice. The sound sent licks of fire spiraling down her spine. She shivered in the flames, without really understanding why.

She would give anything to hear him say her name that way once more. But instinct made her afraid to ask for what she wanted. Afraid to break the spell. She wasn’t frightened of him—only of herself.

A soft uncertain noise sounded in her ears, and she realized it came from her own throat. It surprised her, the same way she’d been amazed when she placed a hand against his chest to balance herself and found his heart beating as rapidly as her own.

Finding her throat suddenly dry, she swallowed hard. His eyes dropped to her mouth, and she knew in an instant what would come next. He lowered his head the few inches separating their mouths and grazed his lips against hers.

Soft. The thought registered with surprise. The texture of his mouth felt like velvet—so soft, so exotic.

Dana couldn’t exactly remember when she’d last kissed a man—if she ever really had. But she did know for sure that it could not have been like this.

For all its gentleness, there was a deep demand in Marcus’s kiss. Hunger and passion were buried under the guise of a tender touch. She was certain about his desires because the drugging insistence of them was pulling the same responses from her own body.

A breathless whimper rumbled deep and escaped her lips, amazing her yet again with such wanton responses to him. As if with a life of their own, her fingers began to knead the cotton of his shirt. The navy-blue pullover bunched as she flexed her hand.

She wished she had the nerve and the time to rip his shirt all the way off so she could run her fingers through the hair on his chest. The vision of him shirtless was as clear to her now as it had been a few hours ago when he’d first stepped from his shower. And she felt every bit as desperate to touch that hair-covered flesh—to slide her palms over his work-hardened muscles…as she had then.

Marcus eased one of his hands away, slowly letting her slide down the full length of him, without ever breaking the kiss. She felt his stiffened flesh pressing against her belly, right through both their slacks.

When he tenderly placed his hands on her face and kneaded her jaw, she opened for him. His tongue caressed her lips, seducing its way past them to find her teeth. She opened wider yet and gingerly touched his tongue with hers.

Intoxicating and sweet. Like nothing she’d ever experienced before.

Marcus anchored a fist in her hair and slid the other hand down her back. Endlessly, his palm inched a heated path down her spine, finally coming to rest on her hip.

Deepening the kiss, he coaxed her tongue to wind around his. Then he drove deeper still, blasting her with a wicked heat. He dragged her hips tighter against his groin.

She melted against him. There was no resistance anywhere in her body. In her whole life she’d never felt so limp and needy. Wanting this, wanting him, she moaned into his mouth.

Marc heard the sound like a roar of white water across slickened rocks. She tasted sizzling hot, icy sweet. When he felt her hands tentatively touch his shoulders, it was as if the rest of the world simply ceased to exist.

Passion and power. He’d found all of that and more in her kiss. Feasting on her softness, he filled his hands with her rounded jeans-covered bottom.

He broke the kiss, needing to taste the rest of her. Licking his way up her jawline, he found her sensitive earlobe and suckled. What fascinating sensations she had stirred in him. He kissed his way down her neck, restlessly moving his hands up and down her sides, eager to fill his palms with her breasts.

Finally covering one breast with his hand, he lasered his mouth back across hers, letting the beast inside the man go free. He wanted to taste every inch. He wanted to go on, licking and lathing, until he could bury himself deep inside her welcoming body.

Somewhere, back in a still-rational part of his brain, he knew this was not how a man kissed a woman for the first time. But this was the kind of kiss—the kind of woman—that he’d dreamed about for all of his life.

Dana was so much more than anyone before. So strong, yet so tender. Passionate, vibrant and real. She was everything that Alicia had never been.

That shocking thought brought him up abruptly. The pain of remembering Alicia’s betrayal threw ice water against his heated skin and numbed his desire. What in God’s name was he doing?

Clutching lamely at Dana’s shoulders, he levered himself away from her and tried to catch his breath. She reached out to him and opened her drugged eyes, silently pleading with him to come back.

Heaven knew that’s what he wanted, too. He wanted to go on kissing her…and much more.

He shut his eyes and cursed through gritted teeth.

Dana found herself blinking furiously, but at last she cleared the confusion from her brain. “Where the hell did that come from, Danforth?” she demanded with a shaky voice. “What were you thinking?”

Marc opened his eyes wide, but took a step back. “I’m not sure. But whatever it was, you were thinking it too.” The look in his eyes held the same accusations and disorientation that she was feeling.

Many inadequate images ripped through her, but she wasn’t positive she could articulate any of them. She’d definitely wanted him to keep on kissing her. But the rational side of her knew it had been right for them to stop.

From deep in her gut, she tried putting up an invisible shield around her emotions. But her fingers wouldn’t obey her brain and automatically went to her swollen lips, tentatively touching the still-pulsing flesh there.

It had never occurred to her that she might ever kiss a man like that. And for it to be this man—the man she was supposed to be using to get to the head of a dangerous cartel….

Well, she supposed there was just no explaining it. Not to him and certainly not to herself.

Clearing her throat, she pressed her lips together and tried to think. “Let’s get inside the house before we’re spotted,” she finally managed. “Do the gates on your fence actually close and lock?”

Marc had been standing there, studying her in the glare of the automatic yard lights. “Yeah,” he answered with a drawl. “At least they did a year ago when I first moved in. The chain-link is mostly just for Laddie, not for protection. But the dog has never needed fencing. Outside the house, he knows where he belongs.”

“Go lock the gates then,” she ordered. “I’ll get a couple of things out of my trunk and meet you inside after I disarm the security system.”

Her words seemed to shake him from his sensual stupor. “Make sure Laddie is inside the fence before I lock the gates,” he told her before spinning around and heading off into the crisp autumn night.

After he’d gone, Dana finally took a huge deep, cleansing breath. She stood five foot eight and sometimes towered over men, but Marc’s six-two had made him seem like a giant standing next to her.

Shaking the cobwebs from her head, she dug the duffel out of the trunk. Ridiculous. Men simply did not make her nervous. Never had. And she was determined that Marc Danforth would not be the first.

In all of her life…first in high school while walking the dangerous streets of her neighborhood, then in college taking law enforcement courses with tough ex-marines, and finally at Quantico during FBI training…she’d turned men into friends or enemies. But every single one of them had kept a respectful distance.

She’d never allowed any of them to push her, and she’d worked hard at being one of the guys. It had been important to her to maintain that professional distance.

Always managing to keep her sexual naiveté quite well-hidden, in high school and college it had been a matter of self-preservation. No dates meant no sex. No sex meant no chance of ending up with a scoundrel like her father.

Eventually, though, she’d stopped thinking about men as anything but friends, co-workers or suspects. And at this point in her life, it would be just too embarrassing to admit that she was inexperienced at something so basic as relations between men and women.

Dana threw the duffel over her shoulder and went to the back porch, calling Laddie as she went. Finding him standing on the step, eagerly awaiting her arrival, he made her smile.

“Good boy.” Dana reached down and roughed-up the fur around his neck.

While disarming the alarm on the back of the house, she couldn’t help wondering why she’d let Marc kiss her. Not only let him, but encouraged him.

When she opened the door, Laddie bolted around her and headed through the lighted kitchen into the darkness beyond. Nothing in the house seemed to be out of place. But because she trusted the dog to know when something was amiss, she instinctively touched the weapon holstered under her jacket.

Crossing through the kitchen and into the foyer, she flipped on the overhead lights. When she heard Marc unlocking and opening the front door, she headed toward the sound and motioned for him to come in quietly.

When he stepped into the glow of the house lights, the sight of him took the breath right out of her lungs. The man was one gorgeous hunk.

He was also extremely rich and quite the ladies’man, if grocery-store tabloids could be believed. The two of them were definitely not from the same universe, let alone in the same league.

Their kiss had been an aberration. A one-shot miscalculation. Nothing more. She vowed to keep her mind on business, and her eye on the goal of taking down Escalante.

“Stay where you are a minute,” she whispered in her most professional tone of voice. “I want to check out the rest of the house.”

He stopped, but his eyes sparkled with amusement. “Yes, ma’am. There’s nothing wrong, is there?”

“Just checking. When I opened the door, the dog took off like he was chasing something.” She flattened herself against the wall, drew her weapon and stealthily headed toward the bedrooms.

“Oh, no.” Marc suddenly brushed past her down the hall and dashed through the first doorway on the right.

So much for him doing whatever she told him to do.

From her cursory inspection of this afternoon, she knew he’d turned into the guest room. “Marc, wait. Let me check…”

“No!” At his loud exclamation, Dana tensed.

Just as she reached the doorway, she heard him issuing commands. “Down, Laddie! Bad dog!”

“Do you need assistance?” It was pretty clear that Marc was okay. She couldn’t vouch for the dog.

“We’re fine,” he called out.

Relaxing her shoulders, she moved further down the hallway, checking the other rooms. Everything was in place.

By the time she’d reholstered her Glock and returned to the guest bedroom, the dog was sitting on the floor at his master’s feet with a terribly guilty expression in his sad eyes. “Did Laddie do something wrong?”

Marc shook his head. “He has a thing for this bed. No matter what I do to discipline him, he thinks the bed belongs to him. That’s one of the reasons I try to keep him outside in his doghouse at night.”

“Well, at least he doesn’t sleep in your bed,” she teased. “Wouldn’t that be worse?”

Marc raised his chin and shot her a smoldering look. “If you don’t keep the door to this room closed tonight, you’ll find out. In fact, you may decide you’d rather bunk with me.”

God, what had possessed her to talk about his bed? Judging from their one mind-blowing kiss, plenty of women had shared his bed. He was too good a kisser not to practice—a lot. She decided belatedly that she had to be the professional here and watch what she said.

But this whole relationship thing was beyond her experience. As an undercover agent, she had always carefully phrased every word—every gesture. She simply never sent unintended signals to the men she dealt with. Right from the beginning with Marc, however, she’d let too much of her true self out for him to see.

Well, no more.

So what if her heart pounded in her throat every time he looked at her? She was good at undercover work, wasn’t she? From now on, she would just play the part of someone who didn’t care that he had the power to tear her heart out with one touch of his lips.

“Let the dog stay inside,” she told him. “We can use all the extra protection we can get.

“And you go on to bed now,” she added casually. “I’ll set the alarms. I’m a light sleeper, so you don’t have to worry about anything. I’ll handle it. Get a good night’s sleep. You’re going to need it.”

He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “Right, sugar. I’m all for getting a good night’s sleep.”

Marc slowly walked toward her as she stood frozen in the doorway. The closer he came, the more she felt like running. But she stood her ground. In the next instant, however, he destroyed all her good intentions about remaining noncommittal.

Reaching over, he ran a finger lightly down the side of her cheek and then rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. “But if you find Laddie too much of a handful…I’ll keep a warm place for you in my bed.” He winked and grinned with a sexy twist of his lips. “Just in case.”

Dropping his hand, he sauntered toward the master bedroom. But before rounding the corner, he turned his head to see if she was still glued in place watching his cute backside. Which she was.

He grinned one last time and disappeared into his room.

She was in big trouble.

Marc spent a couple of hours tossing and turning in his bed. He’d lost his edge with Dana. And after promising himself he wouldn’t let another woman get under his skin.

But there was something about the woman that stirred his soul. Sighing, he tried pounding the pillow into submission for the eighteenth time and finally gave up.

After spending a sleepless night in jail, he’d been sure he would sleep like a rock in his own bed. But that was before a gorgeous woman with big, brown doe eyes moved in down the hall.

His traitorous body was not going to let him get any rest tonight. He rose and tugged on his robe, deciding to go to the kitchen. Maybe something warm in his stomach would help him relax.

When he opened the bedroom door, he noticed that it felt rather chilly in the rest of the house. Perhaps he should turn on the electric heat—or maybe build a fire in the fireplace.

October in Georgia could be deceiving. Days were usually hot and sticky. Leftover summer rains splashed down in puddles one minute that were sun-dried the next. But the nights could turn quite chilly. Last year they’d had frost on Halloween.

Creeping down the darkened hall, he passed by the partially opened door to the guest room. He guessed Dana had left the door open so she could hear what happened in the house during the night. A smirk lifted the corners of his mouth as he thought about her spending the night with Laddie sprawled out over that barely-room-for-one bed. She should’ve taken him up on the offer of spending the night in his bed. There would’ve been a lot more room.

It didn’t take more than a moment for that image to register on his body. With her luscious body in the same bed, he was positive neither one of them would’ve gotten any sleep. Shoving those images into the recesses of his mind, he swallowed hard and tried not to think at all.

Marc went straight to the living room fireplace without turning on any lights. He opened the glass doors to the hearth and picked up an armload of precut pine logs from the wood box. After placing the logs on the grate, he set fire to the twigs he’d put under them.

He sat back on his heels in front of the hearth and used a poker to stir the kindling to flames. Concentrating on bringing the fire to life, he began to think about how he wanted to bring Dana’s body to life. He would use just the right kindling touches and just the right firestormed kisses. With only one kiss, she’d proven that she was capable of becoming everyman’s sexual fantasy. She’d been vibrant and erotic under his touch.

Lost in the memory of their sensual haze, Marc was jolted when the table lamp behind him switched on with a blinding glare. He nearly fell on his butt with surprise.

Instead, he caught himself and swiveled around to see what was going on. “What the hell…?”

Dana stood there, holding her gun loosely at her side. With the other hand, she kept a tight grip on Laddie’s collar. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Marc’s heart was racing as the adrenaline of surprise churned through his veins. “No.” He coughed and found his voice. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I was cold and wanted to light the fire.”

Laddie lowered his head and made a distinctly unfriendly sound deep in his throat.

Dana let go of Laddie’s collar and whispered something in his ear. The dog sat back on his haunches and his tongue lolled out of the corner of his mouth. He’d obviously found a new friend in the beautiful FBI agent. The big traitor.

“You didn’t frighten me,” Dana said quietly. “But Laddie insisted that we make sure you were all right.”

She briefly checked the gun and placed it on the table beside her. “Is there anything I can do to help you sleep?”

Oh man. Was that a leading question.

He turned back to the fire before he slipped and told her exactly what he had in mind. “No, thanks. I was planning on making myself some hot coffee just as soon as I got the fire going.” But at the moment, a good stiff shot of bourbon sounded like a better deal.

“Do you have any chocolate mix? I always think hot milk is better than coffee in the middle of the night.”

“There’s probably some in the pantry.”

“Good. I’ll go find it.” She left the room and that bewitched devil dog, Laddie, trotted along at her heel.

A couple of lousy hours with Dana and man’s best friend had turned on the hand that fed him. It wasn’t the first time Marc had lost a best friend to a woman. But it still hurt. You’d think he would’ve learned a lesson the first time.

The fire snapped as the heat blazed against his hands and face. He replaced the poker and closed the glass doors, all the while thinking of how Dana had looked, standing there with his former best friend beside her.

She’d had on a gray sweatshirt that was a couple of sizes too big. The V-neck had slipped down one shoulder, revealing the curve of one of her creamy golden breasts. She obviously wore no bra underneath.

His hand flexed with the memory of how her breast had yielded to him earlier. A man could hardly forget so soon how sweet that felt. Or how he wished he’d had the opportunity to place his mouth around the jutting nipple. Or how…

When he looked down, he realized that the thin fabric of his pajamas and robe were revealing with crystal clarity every erotic thought he’d had. Damned biology.

Pulling the robe tighter, he straightened his shoulders and went off to find that bottle of bourbon.

As the first rays of sun changed the farmyard from pitch-dark of night into gray cast of dawn, Dana ran a comb through her shower-wet hair and slipped on her running shoes. At this hour, every muscle in her body yearned for a real run. But there would be no opportunity for that today. She couldn’t leave Marc alone.

For a couple of hours last night, she’d sat at the kitchen table while he’d drunk himself into a sleepy fog. It was a good thing that over the years of being a covert agent she’d learned the art of listening. She’d let him tell her—for the third time—the history of what the cartel had done to his family. Then he told her every detail of how his time in jail had gone. Twice.

He’d been so miserable, feeling sorry for himself and trying not to recognize the sexual tension that they both knew flared between them. She’d been miserable too—not sure of what she wanted. One thing she was sure of; he was the cutest thing she’d ever seen.

She would be willing to bet the farm, though, that he’d be wishing for a total head transplant when he finally woke up this morning. Chuckling to herself, she finished dressing and slipped out of her room to go make the coffee. He was going to need it.

When she entered the kitchen, the smell of coffee brewing made her nerve endings itch. Nothing seemed out of place and she hadn’t heard any kind of disturbance, so she quickly figured out it must’ve been Marc who had made the coffee. But where was he now?

Dana went to the outside door and found the alarm still set. But it could’ve easily been disarmed and reset, and there would be no clues. Checking the fine thread she’d placed across the threshold in case someone did get past the alarm system, she wasn’t surprised to find it broken. Marc had gone outside. And after all her warnings about not going anywhere without her.

It finally hit her that Laddie was missing, as well. She’d ordered the dog to sit in the hall watching the master bedroom door while she’d been taking her shower.

She stepped onto the back porch and scanned the dreary horizon. After spotting Laddie moving noisily amongst the sheep, she relaxed her shoulders. But then she noticed Marc talking to an older man out near the barn, and the tension raced back through her hands and down her spine.

Dana watched as Marc shook the other man’s hand, then turned and came toward her alone. The stranger walked away, heading in the direction of the far pasture out past the barn.

Dressed in jeans and a pecan-colored sweater that matched his eyes, Marc looked relaxed and devastatingly handsome for this hour of the morning. But he scowled at her when he came near. “You shouldn’t be out here, Dana. Let’s go back into the house.”

She grimaced at his words. “You’re a fine one to talk. Aren’t you the one that shouldn’t be outside, contacting strangers without me? I’m trained in defense, not you.”

He grabbed her elbow and swung her around, still moving toward the kitchen door. “The man was my neighbor, William Stevens. I was arranging for him to take care of the animals for a few weeks. But now that he’s seen you, he’ll be wondering what’s really going on. And I’d rather not be the subject of any more speculation if I can help it.”

The stab of irritation hit her right between the tingling waves of pleasure at his touch. “Won’t he simply believe I’m just another one of the many glamour girls you bring home? He wasn’t close enough to get a good look.”

Marc stopped at the bottom of the steps, released her and stood back to study her face. “Are you joking?” He answered his own question without waiting for her reply. “No, I can see you’re not. What would make you say such a thing?”

“I’ve studied the background files on you, Danforth. There’s a stack of newspaper clippings an inch thick, all with you cuddling, kissing or holding hands with various debutantes and models. Why wouldn’t everyone just assume you bring them home?”

Marc checked the alarm system and found that she’d left it disarmed. “Inside.” He spent a moment at the door waiting for her, then he must’ve realized he’d better try again. “We can talk about it if you’ll come into the kitchen now. Please, Dana.”

She swung around and scanned the horizon. “What about the dog?”

“Stevens said he’d take him to his farm for the time being. Laddie likes it over there with other dogs.”

After they’d reentered the house, Marc poured coffee into two mugs and then sat at the table. Dana rearmed the alarm and joined him.

“Look,” he began. “My family is well connected here in Savannah. For them, and because of my position at the firm, I have to attend an occasional charitable or political function. Sometimes I must escort a woman. But believe me, none of it is particularly fun…or personal.”

Sipping her coffee slowly, she waited.

He looked thoughtful for a second then continued. “Except for one of my brothers and a cousin or two, I haven’t brought anyone out here since I moved in.”

Dana raised her eyebrows and pushed out her bottom lip. It wasn’t that she doubted him—exactly. But it seemed hard to imagine.

“You don’t believe me?” He stood and paced to the sink and back. “The truth is, I haven’t had a real date in over a year. Ask anyone in my family. They’ll tell you.”

“I don’t believe you’d lie, Marc.” She finished her coffee and set the mug down on the table. “But it seems odd for a rich, good-looking man who is one of the town’s most eligible bachelors to be celibate. What’s the problem?”

Dana couldn’t quite believe she’d made such a rude and nosy remark. On the other hand, she’d learned on the job that asking a surprise personal question could occasionally elicit a surprise honest answer.

Marc took both mugs to the sink and moved behind her chair. He leaned over to whisper, “Maybe I just need someone like you to inspire me. I’m sure you figured out last night that it’s not a physical problem. There’s no way you didn’t feel the truth of that.”

He came closer and nibbled on her earlobe. “Want to volunteer to be the first to break my abstinence?”

His voice gave her the shivers and his kiss sent heated bolts of sensual wanting through her body. She remembered quite well how hard his body had become when she’d plastered herself against it. The memory was burning gaps in her mind and causing other searing physical needs she hardly recognized. How could he turn a simple interrogation into something so sexy?

She stood and backed away, determined to wrest the upper hand back from him. “We’re going to be working closely together for the next few weeks. I think we’d better not mention last night again. It was a mistake. It won’t happen again.”

He smiled at her, but didn’t say a word. The silence sparked the air around them.

Dana cleared her throat and found her voice again. “You’re just trying to make me forget the question.” She took another step back. “So let me repeat, why haven’t you been with a woman in over a year?”

Marc pressed his lips together. “I’m going to take a shower. We have a lot of plans to make today.”

“Are you too chicken to answer me?”

“It’s nothing, Dana. No big deal. I’ll tell you all about it sometime when things get dull.” He tugged his sweater over his head and headed for the master bedroom.

Left in the silence, she wondered if this assignment would end up being her worst nightmare. Not due to the cartel. Or because of the cocky, rich man’s son she was forced to work with. But because of the way her body was bound and determined to betray her whenever Marc came near.

Five

He’d had just about all he could take. Marc spent a long grueling day, first watching Dana inspect the SUV, and then watching an FBI technician install bugging devices on his phones. It was so boring that he’d been nearly ecstatic when Uncle Harry called to invite them to Crofthaven for a family dinner meeting.

Normally, a summons to his father’s home would’ve been depressing. But today he was grateful for the diversion.

If he hadn’t had so many truly god-awful days in his lifetime, he would’ve been tempted to call this one the worst day of his life. As it was, the most he could say about today was that it was frustrating.

He wanted to do something to prove his innocence. And he needed to get moving—so he wouldn’t be tempted to obsess over wanting Dana in his arms.

Her FBI boss had asked him to go about his business as usual until a plan to draw out Escalante could be developed. Marc’s style would’ve been more along the lines of breaking into the cartel’s den and beating the truth out of them. But he held back for Dana’s sake, and managed to sit on his hands while she went about her job.

She was so competent and so obviously physically fit that the energy fairly rolled off her well-toned body in waves. He appreciated her intensity about the job and her professionalism—almost as much as he appreciated her lean physique. The more he drooled over her exquisite body while he watched her work, the more determined to keep his hands off of her he became.

Finally, Dana relented and agreed he could drive them over to Crofthaven in his SUV. Behind the wheel, he felt useful and a lot less ineffectual than he had all day.

“Do you go home often?” she asked as he drove them down the narrow highway. Her words were plain enough, but her smoky tones sent electric impulses through his veins and destroyed his resolve.

“Home? You mean Crofthaven?” He felt like a horny teenager whose hormones had turned him into an idiot.

He thought she must be nodding in the affirmative, but he’d decided against trying to catch a glimpse of her while he was driving. Keeping his mind off her body and his eyes on the road seemed like the best bet at the moment.

There were plenty of things for him to regret in his life. Causing an accident because he was ogling an FBI agent wouldn’t be the best thing to add to the list.

“Uh…I don’t exactly consider Crofthaven home,” he said with a croak in his voice. “Actually, I doubt that any of my siblings do, either.”

“But weren’t you raised there? I thought I read that in your file?”

“We had rooms in the house. There’s a world of difference between that and thinking of someplace as home.”

He turned off the highway and headed down the country road that meandered along the Atlantic coast. “I suppose when I was very small and my mother and grandparents were still alive, I thought of Crofthaven as a wonderful home. The grounds are extensive, there’s a private beach and lots of places for a kid to play. But all that changed after Dad came back from Vietnam and then Mother died in a car crash.”

“How old were you when your mother died?”

“Almost five.”

“That must’ve been hard on all of you.”

Marc heard the sympathy in her voice. “It was a long time ago, Dana. Dad hired nannies and then packed us all up and sent us to boarding schools. On holidays and vacations we spent most of our time at Uncle Harry and Aunt Miranda’s house, downtown in Savannah’s historic district. If I thought of anywhere except the farm as home now, it would have to be their house.”

As he drove the SUV closer to the Crofthaven gates, Marc began to notice cars parked along the sides of the roadway. Odd. It looked almost as if someone was holding a big party and more cars had shown up than the parking lot would hold. But that could never happen on a place as vast as Crofthaven.

When he finally realized what was going on, it was nearly too late to do anything about it. “Oh, hell! The local tabloids have arrived. Scrunch down in your seat, Dana.” He stepped on the gas pedal. “I know a secret entrance that the gardeners use. I’ll blow past the reporters and double back. But in case they recognize my SUV, you probably don’t want to be seen with me.”

Her quick shift in position was nearly automatic. “This wouldn’t be a problem if you’d let me drive,” she ground out through gritted teeth from her spot under the dash. Less than thirty seconds later, the SUV slowed. “Are we past them?”

“Yeah. I don’t think they noticed us at all.” Marc took a left and she sat back up in the seat. “The gardener’s gate is on a combination lock. I’ll have to get out to open it.” He pulled in between two rows of dense shrubs and stopped.

“Leave the car running and the door open,” she ordered before he jumped out.

While he was gone, she dug around in her backpack for the FBI-issued SAT phone. Connecting immediately to the special task force that her boss had set up to assist in the investigation and apprehension of Escalante, Dana barked out a few questions. The special agent who answered said he would get back to her.

Marc slid back behind the wheel and drove through the gate. “I don’t think any of the reporters noticed us.” Once through, he slowed the SUV. “I have to relock the gate.”

“I’ll do it.” Dana was out of the SUV in an instant. Undercover operatives usually didn’t have to fight off the glare of the tabloids to do their jobs. How in the world was she going to get through this mission?

“What do you suppose those reporters wanted?” she asked when she returned to the car.

Marc shrugged as he wound the car down a tiny tree-covered lane. “They’re probably waiting for Dad. He’s running for the Senate seat, you know.”

“Those guys looked like they were hot on the trail of a scandal. I have my doubts that they’re the standard political-beat reporters.”

After they’d driven a quarter of a mile up the private lane, she glanced around at the lush landscaping. The green lawn was manicured and trimmed. In the distance, the paved drive that led from the wrought-iron front gates to the main house could be seen, outlined by magnificent oak trees that were covered over by low-hanging mosses. The place looked like a picture postcard of the old South.

Only bigger and richer.

They topped a little crest and were surrounded by an orchard and the flower gardens beyond. The main house stretched out as far as she could see, and seemed to consist of three floors with at least two wings. To Dana’s mind, this place could only be called a mansion. Or maybe she would call it a fairy-tale castle.

Marc drove past gardening sheds and ended up in front of a ten-car garage located behind the mansion. “Hope you don’t mind if we go through the kitchen,” he said. “I don’t want to take a chance on running into any of Dad’s political buddies. They usually meet in one of the front rooms this late in the afternoon.”

“Kitchen’s fine with me.”

By the time they walked through an enclosed porch and then a series of mudrooms, Dana was nearly lost. The place was enormous, and the kitchen was big enough to feed a hundred people. With its professional-looking equipment, she was positive it was set up better than most restaurants.

Marc introduced her to the family’s cook, Florence, as they made their way to a swinging door on the other side of the big kitchen. “Where is everyone, Flo?” he asked.

Before the cook could answer, a paunchy man in his early fifties came through the door. “There you are.” He shook Marc’s hand and beamed at him from under his stock of thick dark hair and bushy eyebrows. “How are you holding up, son? You look tired.”

“I’m all right, Uncle Harry. But I’ll be a lot better when I find the proof to clear my name.” Marc turned to her. “Dana, I’d like for you to meet my uncle, Harold Danforth.”

The older man turned his kind blue eyes in her direction. “Ah yes. The FBI agent who’s going to help clear Marc’s name.” He took her hand. “I’ve heard you are quite capable. Thank you for taking an interest in my nephew. We’ve all been very worried about him.”

“Where’s Dad?” Marc asked his uncle.

“He and Nicola and Jake are in a last minute campaign strategy meeting in the library.”

Marc lowered his voice to a whisper. “What’s with all the reporters outside?”

“Nicola’s best guess is that John Van Gelder’s campaign forces have been spreading rumors that Abraham will be calling a press conference to announce he’s bowing out of the race.”

“What?” Marc asked with force. “But why? There’s hardly a month left until the election.”

Harold looked thoughtful. “I believe its supposed to be due to your arrest. The rumor mill apparently has it that Abraham is so embarrassed by your arrest that he doesn’t want the taint of your crimes to rub off on his good name.” He screwed up his mouth in a scowl. “Humph. As if there’d never been a Senator tainted by family scandals…or by their own personal crimes…for that matter.”

“Well, it’s just…ridiculous,” Marc sputtered.

He was about to say more, but his uncle laid a firm hand on his shoulder. “Don’t give it another thought, Marc. Of course it’s ridiculous. Your father has no intention of quitting. Abraham never quit anything intentionally in his whole life.”

Harold smiled up at his nephew, who stood a good four inches taller. “Your father knows you’re innocent of the charges, and it’s only a matter of time until that’s proven. We all know you’re innocent, Marc. And we want to help.”

Dana was stunned by the tender look she saw in Harold Danforth’s eyes when he spoke to Marc. She’d seen it twice before coming from the Danforths. Those times it had been coming from his brothers, Adam and Ian. And now that same loving look came from his uncle.

The obvious affection gave her a knot in the center of her stomach. Family. Oh, what she would’ve given when she was a child to feel anything resembling that tenderness from her own family.

Not only was Marc a world away from her by reason of his wealth and privilege. But he was also in a different universe when it came to knowing about family trust and honor. She stifled a sigh, quickly deciding that the two of them had nothing on which to build a relationship.

All those little tingles of connection to him she’d been feeling must’ve been coming from her imagination. Or perhaps…it had just been the lust talking. She’d never wanted a man so badly. Her body apparently was confusing desire with caring.

Well, it was time to go back to her job. No more daydreaming about someone who was on the other side of such a great divide.

“I’m on my way to find your aunt Miranda. We’ll be going out to the terrace in a minute to visit with our new daughter-in-law and grandson,” Harold told Dana with a smile. “Jake will be joining us shortly for dinner. He’s very anxious to put his two cents’ worth into any plan that will come to Marc’s defense.” Harold headed back inside the house.

Marc touched her elbow and led her out the way they’d come.

“Who’s Jake?” she whispered.

“Harry and Miranda’s son, Jacob Danforth,” he said under his breath. “He and Adam are the founders of the D & D Coffeehouse chain. Jake and his new wife have been helping with Dad’s campaign during the last couple of months, while most of the rest of us have been tied up with other things. Jake’s an absolute genius when it comes to PR and raising money.”

Dana followed Marc out into shadowy sunshine that was flooding the parklike grounds with golden stripes from a beautiful fall sunset. It was a good thing she had instant memory recall. Just keeping track of all the family members was a chore not many could handle.

* * *

“Marc!” Jake’s son, Peter, spotted them the minute they stepped onto the terrace.

The little boy threw down his toys and raced across the lawn toward them. Marc knelt on one knee and braced himself, spreading his arms out wide. Peter’s chubby little legs churned furiously as the boy shrieked and giggled, running full out. It was a game the two of them had played for several months now, ever since Jake had discovered that he had a son and married Larissa, Peter’s mom.

Peter reached the terrace and flung himself into Marc’s open embrace, knocking both of them over. Marc laughed so hard he barely had the breath left to capture the squirming child against his chest, protecting him from the hard surface as they rolled over.

“Peter, stop that. You’re ruining Marc’s clothes.” Larissa came running toward the terrace, trying to keep a straight face. But it was a losing battle.

Finally, Marc wrestled Peter around and managed to balance them both as he got to his feet. “Okay, partner,” he said to the giggling little boy. “That’s enough now. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Dana eyes were wide and glittering with fun as she watched Peter squirm. Marc dusted the boy off, straightened his T-shirt and hiked up his pants. With every touch, Peter giggled and stomped his feet with laughter.

Marc’s heart skipped wildly with affection for the sweet child. For the first time since he’d lost himself in Dana’s kiss last night, Marc completely forgot about being arrested and framed by the cartel. Nothing could be very wrong in this world as long as children could laugh so freely.

He threw his arm around Peter to keep him still and introduced the boy to Dana. She bent over and extended her hand. “How do you do, Peter?”

“I’m four,” he told her.

Out of breath, Larissa came up on the terrace and swung Peter into her arms. “When someone says ‘how do you do,’ you’re supposed to answer ‘fine thank you’.” She looked as if she was still trying to keep the smile off her face, but her eyes were giggling like a schoolgirl’s.

Marc introduced Dana to Larissa and they made their way over to the huge glass-top table that had been set for dinner. He went past the table and checked the bar for ice, offering both women a drink.

“You two fix yourselves something,” Larissa told them. “I’m going to take Peter inside and clean him up for dinner.” She carried her son off through the French doors. But long after Marc lost sight of the boy, he could still hear Peter chatting on about the meaning of fine.

“Cute kid,” Dana chuckled.

“Yeah, he’s the best. He’s the kind that makes me wish I had a few dozen of my own.”

Dana looked startled for a minute, then she laughed. “Good luck finding a woman that’ll agree to be the mother to such a brood.”

Chuckling along with her, he offered her a drink, but she shook her head. “I’d better keep my mind clear so I can tell one of you family members from the next.”

Just then Jake appeared at the kitchen door. But before Marc could introduce his cousin to Dana, she had to excuse herself to take a cell phone call.

Jake looked after her as she strolled down the garden path talking into the phone. “Didn’t hear the phone buzz, did you? She must’ve had it on silent ring.” He turned back to Marc. “She’s the FBI agent Ian’s been telling us about, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. And she’s really something, Jake. Wait until you talk to her.” Marc couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of Dana’s retreating backside. The way her jeans cupped that rounded bottom and the way she swung her hips when she walked were driving crazy images through his mind.

Jake slapped him on the back and brought his attention back to the moment. “It’s easy to see what you think of her. But you need to keep your mind on getting out of this mess with the cartel.”

Marc turned around to his cousin and narrowed his eyes. “What’s happening with the campaign?”

Jake shook his head. “We’re trying to keep it on track. Nicola has planned a final statewide campaign swing. We leave tomorrow for a couple of weeks’worth of whistle-stops throughout the state.”

“Dad’s still running ahead in the polls, isn’t he?”

“By a wide margin. We’ve been trying to convince him to use your arrest to make a statement about family and privacy. But he’s reluctant to bring it up with the press.”

Marc wasn’t entirely positive the word “reluctant” could ever be applied to his father. He’d always imagined that Abraham Danforth made use of every opportunity to discuss his viewpoints with the public. But before he could ask anything else, the terrace was suddenly bustling with activity.

Larissa came back outside with Peter. Uncle Harry and Aunt Miranda, followed by his father and Nicola, made their entrances through the patio doors. And Dana walked back up the path, stuffing the phone into her backpack. At the same moment, Florence stepped out of the kitchen door and told him that dinner was ready and they would be serving it outside shortly, if everyone could take their seats.

Marc introduced Dana to his assembled family members and to Nicola Granville, his father’s campaign aide. After a rather boisterous dinner, Aunt Miranda took Peter inside for his bath. Miranda was absolutely wild about her newly discovered grandson, and Marc had to agree that the kid was really something.

The rest of the adults stayed seated around the cleared dinner table, drinking coffee and talking about Marc’s predicament with the cartel.

His father had been rather silent throughout the dinner. But Marc was never entirely sure what his dad was thinking about things. The two of them hadn’t been exactly close over the years. Their relationship was more like a superior officer to a raw recruit. Marc supposed it was do to his father’s many years as a Navy SEAL.

“Marc,” his father began from the other end of the table. “Tell me what the FBI plans for you.”

“I think it would be better if Dana told us, Dad.”

Dana was sitting next to him and had been particularly quiet throughout the meal. Now she looked up at the assembled group and smiled.

“My superior, Special Agent in Charge Steve Simon, is completing plans for us. His goal, of course, is ultimately to capture Ernesto Escalante. While he formulates his overall plan, Marc and I are to try to find a way into the cartel to discover a direct link to Escalante. That means—”

“Excuse me, young lady.” Abraham Danforth interrupted Dana with his firm voice and commanding presence. “I’m glad the FBI wants to remove Escalante from the U.S. drug scene. And I know his capture would not only take the strain off my family but would be a great bonus for the FBI. What I want to know is what assistance my son, Marc, can expect from the FBI in return for his help.”

Dana looked only slightly taken aback by such a direct assault from a man who, in a few short months, would likely be sitting on the Senate committee that oversees the Treasury Department and the FBI.

“We will agree to turn over all of our unclassified findings to his attorney to help with his defense,” she replied.

Abraham slowly shook his head, frowning deeply at her. “Not good enough. I want total immunity for Marc. I want all the charges dropped…or none of the family will share any information with the FBI.”

“Dad…” Marc was stunned. What his father was asking was only fair, he supposed. But it might be much more than the FBI was willing to give. All Marc wanted was a chance to prove he was innocent.

Abraham ignored Marc’s interruption and continued to stare at Dana. “And…I want an absolute guarantee of his safety. Are you willing to personally make that guarantee?”

Dana surreptitiously straightened her spine and raised her chin to face Abraham Danforth square on. Marc thought she was the most spectacular woman he’d ever met.

“I can promise Marc…and his family…that I’ll protect his life with my own. However, his complete safety will be partially his own responsibility. He must do exactly as he is told, or the FBI cannot promise anything.” She stopped and took a breath. “As for total immunity…I will put your request through the proper channels.”

Abraham steepled his fingers in front of his face. “I expect that you will.” He turned to face Marc. “Are you willing to temporarily go along with the FBI’s plans without having their assurances on your ultimate deal?”

“Yes. I’m more than willing,” he truthfully told his father. “I have to do something, Dad. I can’t just sit around and let other people decide my fate.”

His father smiled at him—one of Abraham’s very rare smiles. It was so unusual to see the man with anything but a fierce expression on his face, that the whole table was speechless.

Everyone but Nicola. “Please tell us your immediate plans, Dana. We’ve been arranging a statewide campaign swing but perhaps we should stay in town to help Marc.”

Dana relaxed her shoulders. “I talked to my boss right before dinner, and he is still convinced that for the time being Marc and his family should go about their business as if nothing unusual has happened. SAC Simon thinks the cartel will be more likely to contact either Marc or Ian if they think things appear normal.

“Apparently Marc’s brother, Ian, is willing to have him pretend to come into work everyday,” she continued. “As long as I’m there to give him protection.”

Dana hesitated for a second in order to give everyone time to absorb that information. “We’ll be using some of the Danforth office space to set up our investigation. But…” She hesitated yet again. “The biggest problem with the scheme will be the tabloid reporters. I haven’t had a chance to speak to Marc about this, but he’s going to have to find a good excuse for why I’ll be with him at all times and…make it seem normal.”

“You could be his new administrative assistant,” Jake offered.

“No,” Larissa contradicted her husband. “That’s no good. They could be seen together anytime, twenty-four hours a day. The gossip would begin immediately.”

“Well, speaking from an image standpoint, your best defense is a good offense,” Nicola said softly. “Marc and Dana will have to appear to be lovers, about to be engaged, and so much in love they can’t leave each other’s side…even for the work day.

“I’ll schedule a press briefing for first thing in the morning,” Nicola offered. “The tabloids have been trying to find out what Abraham thinks of Marc’s arrest. A good way to deflect it will be if he begins by declaring his son’s innocence and then goes on to announce Marc’s engagement. That’ll change the focus for a while.”

Dana had been afraid someone was going to come up with that solution. There was no way she could ever pass as someone Marc would marry. She didn’t belong to the same social circle. Not even close.

“But…I’m…not prepared to do that kind of undercover operation. I don’t have the right clothes or…the right training. How in the world are we going to convince the paparazzi?”

Everyone at the table smiled at her, but it was Larissa who made the most sense. “I can tell you from personal experience that the tabloids aren’t strictly interested in the truth—as long as it makes a good story.”

Larissa swiveled around to take her new husband’s hand in her own. “But we just happen to have someone in our extended family who’s an expert in ‘scandal’ journalism …not that she’s personally into that kind of thing.”

Jake smiled at his new bride. “Of course.” He turned to Marc. “I’ll bet Jasmine will be willing to help you with the tabloids. You might want to check with her on the information she’s accumulated about the cartel, too. Wes tells me her files on them are quite extensive.”

Marc stuck his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Jasmine,” he began. “I should’ve already thought to ask her about the cartel. I’ll give her a call tonight.”

“Who’s Jasmine?” Dana asked.

“Jasmine Carmody Brooks,” Jake told her. “She recently married Wesley Brooks, my old roommate and my partner in the D & D Coffeehouse chain. It’s a long story. Get Marc to fill you in.”

“And about getting you prepared for this operation,” Nicola said, with a smile in her eyes. “Image consulting is my job. I’ll give you a short lesson this evening.”

She tilted her head and studied Dana, then turned to question Jake. “Do you know if your sister, Imogene, could break away from that gorgeous new husband of her’s tonight? She’s forgotten more about clothes and makeup than most women will ever know.”

Dana’s head was spinning. The names of family members were running around in her brain. And the idea of being anyone’s fiancée, even just for pretend, was making her sweat.

Then Marc reached under the table and squeezed her hand, and everything changed.

Six

On the way back to his farm, Marc wasn’t sure of what to say to her. He’d wanted to apologize for subjecting her to his family, particularly his father. But on the other hand, this kind of thing was probably in Dana’s job description.

Anyway, not knowing what to say kept him quiet on the long drive home. Dana seemed to be off in her own world, and the silence between them apparently didn’t bother her at all.

Tomorrow morning, during Abraham’s press conference, the papers would be notified of their upcoming marriage. The idea was to make the cartel believe he was so unconcerned about his arrest that he’d chosen this time to become engaged.

One possible outcome would be for Escalante to believe the ruse and start pushing Marc and Ian all the harder. Another possibility was Escalante would not believe it, and instead would believe that Marc was running scared—hopefully leading the cartel into thinking that they had the upper hand and should relax their guard.

Either way, the cartel might make a mistake. That looked like his best shot at the moment. But a pretend engagement, especially to someone as spectacular as Dana, left Marc depressed and shaken. His last engagement turned out to be such a monumental disaster that the very mention of it embarrassed him no end.

When he drove up to the chain-link fence surrounding his farm and stopped, Marc glanced quickly over to the sexy FBI agent who was about to become his pretend fiancée. “I’ll get the gate.”

“No,” Dana snapped back. “Don’t exit the vehicle until I can cover you. I’ll take care of the gate. Drive on through when it’s open and I’ll lock up.”

A few minutes later they were dragging the mountain of clothes and boxes of makeup that Imogene had lent to Dana out of the back of the SUV. “Jeez,” he said as he hefted one of the boxes into the house. You’re too beautiful to need makeup at all. What’s all this junk for, anyway?”

She didn’t answer him until they were safely inside. “I need it for…” she stuttered, then stopped and stared at him. “Do you really think I’m beautiful?”

“Sure.” It took a minute for her question to register as he helped her hang the clothes in the guest closet. Didn’t she realize how truly gorgeous she was?

“Dana, hold on a minute.” Taking her hand, he made her stop unpacking clothes and focus on his face. “You’re a very unique woman, Special Agent Aldrich. There aren’t many as strong, competent and intelligent at their jobs as you are. But…you’re so much more. You can also be soft and gentle when needed. You light up any room just by your presence. And…you are one of the sexiest women I’ve ever met.”

As he ran a finger across her cheek, her eyes opened to the size of two full moons. Marc tried to find the words to make her see herself as he saw her. “Your big brown eyes hold every mystery ever kept by womankind. Your skin is pure pleasure to touch. And your hair…”

He grabbed a handful of her deep ebony ringlets and totally lost his train of thought. Leaning toward her, he hovered between agony and ecstasy. All he could see was her pale soft lips, just inches from his own. But he wasn’t sure she wanted the same thing.

Close enough to smell a slight scent of musk, he bent forward and pressed his lips to hers. She whimpered with an erotic sound that fired his blood. She was all woman now.

Marc deepened the kiss, needing to consume her before the ground gave way under his feet. “I want you,” he whispered into her mouth.

Suddenly, he felt an angry shove against his mid-section. Slightly dazed, he lifted his head and gazed down into her face.

“Nice try, counselor.” She grinned as she stepped away from him. “That’s quite a line you’ve got going there. But I told you last night that sharing kisses is a mistake. I’m here to protect you and find evidence against the cartel. If we can locate Escalante, all the better. I’m not here to jump into your bed.”

She walked over to the bedroom door and held it open, indicating she was ready for him to leave. “It’s late. We’ll be going to your office in the morning, just as you usually would. You’d better get some rest.”

Reluctantly, he shuffled out the door. But before she could close it against him, he turned back.

“The heat is there between us, sugar,” he told her. “You can’t make it go away just because you don’t want it. Sooner or later that heat will bubble over. Neither of us can stop it.”

She laughed and raised her eyebrows. “I have a lot more control than that…sugar. Now go to bed. I’ll keep an eye on things tonight. You get a good night’s sleep.”

He pressed his lips together and stepped back enough so that she could close the door in his face. Lord, this was going to be a tough night.

Muttering under his breath, Marc went down the hall and prepared himself for bed—alone. But he was absolutely positive he wasn’t going to get a wink of sleep.

He was a brilliant corporate attorney. That’s what everyone told Dana the next morning at the Danforth offices. Everyone said so, including Marc’s secretary and all three of his junior assistants, two of whom were women.

But none of the women in the place had so much as hinted that Marc ever made a move on them. And Dana definitely tried to leave the way open for them to share the gossip. She wasn’t sure how knowing about his private life would help her with the job, but she still wanted to know.

At the office she felt totally out of her comfort zone, dressed in the black Donna Karan suit and designer high heels that Imogene had made her promise to wear. However, she didn’t seem to be out of place there. A few of the women complimented her on the suit, but they were all dressed very much the same way.

By mid-afternoon, her feet were killing her and she was beginning to believe that Marc Danforth was a saint. She sat down in the conference room he’d taken over for their use. Kicking off her shoes under the table and rubbing her nylon-clad feet together, Dana figured the man had better be everything he’d claimed to be. Otherwise, she would be forced to kill him when this was all over—if for no other reason than she’d actually had to put on these crazy high heels for him.

She couldn’t wait for the work day to be done so she could get back into her jeans and running shoes. But in the meantime, she worked on setting up the computer Marc’s secretary had provided. Dana entered her password into the Bureau’s covert Web site and was immediately allowed into the FBI files they’d begun compiling on the cartel.

“Hi. How’s it going?” Marc sauntered in a little while later, followed by a very sophisticated dark-skinned woman dressed in a soft aqua pants suit. “Dana, I want you to meet Jasmine Carmody Brooks. She’s brought us her files on the cartel.”

Dana took Jasmine’s outstretched hand and the two of them immediately understood each other. By her firm no-nonsense handshake and the clearly determined look in her big brown eyes, Dana knew Jasmine was just as much of a competitive go-getter as she was.

Jasmine seemed to be sizing her up, as well. “There’ll be a small article in tomorrow’s paper, announcing Marc’s engagement to the daughter of one of Abraham’s old navy buddies from Louisiana—a Miss Dana Dele-croix. I spoke to your superior, Steve Simon, and he said he’d fix it so that you had a background there in case anyone checked.

“Abraham mentioned the happy news this morning at his press conference when someone questioned him on Marc’s arrest,” Jasmine continued with a smile. “It proved to be quite a diversion.”

Marc pulled out a chair at the conference table for her. They all sat down while Jasmine unearthed a stack of files from a leather briefcase and placed them on the table.

“Dana, Jasmine tells me that a couple of tabloid reporters are sneaking around downstairs, trying to get a line on where we are and when they can try for a picture,” Marc said with a grin. “Are you going to be ready for your first run-in with the paparazzi when we leave here later?”

Dana felt herself grimace and tried to change it into a casual smile. “You sure we can’t just give them the slip? I guarantee you I’m better at hiding than they are at finding people.”

Marc chuckled, but shook his head. “Sorry. But they’ll be bored soon enough, once we let them have what they want. Tomorrow someone else will be their target.”

“Okay, fine,” she muttered. Turning to Jasmine, she watched her place the manila folders on the table.

“I started collecting information on the coffee suppliers and the cartel back in April, right after the Danforth warehouse office explosion,” Jasmine said as she flipped through the files. “Ian has seen all this information. But I told him I wouldn’t break the story while Marc was still involved.”

“Good thing,” Dana told her. “I suspect that Marc is only alive now because he’s the pawn the cartel is using to get to Ian. You break the story on the cartel and Marc’s usefulness is over.”

Once the words were out of her mouth, Dana had a queasy feeling deep in the pit of her stomach. She snuck a peek at Marc’s guarded expression.

Marc. Bright, energetic and a spectacular kisser, Marc Danforth. She couldn’t imagine him being killed, or that anyone could take his fantastic life away from him.

Dana swallowed hard and narrowed her eyes on the folder in Jasmine’s hand.

“These are pictures that I’ve been taking of people coming and going from the coffee suppliers’ offices over on Montgomery Street,” Jasmine told them. “I can identify some of the men, but there are a few that I can’t place.”

Dana looked over her shoulder as Jasmine spread the photos out before her. “There must be hundreds of pictures here.” She looked at each one as Jasmine handed them over. “And the quality is terrific.”

Dana studied each shot carefully. “Wow. Great telephoto lens work here, Jasmine. And just look at the infrared quality of these.” She passed each picture to Marc, after checking the backs for dating references.

“At the beginning I thought I’d get a few candid shots that would be useful for an article,” Jasmine said. “But the longer I sat there, the more I realized that nothing much happened at that office during the daylight hours. No one important went in or out. So I started watching the building late at night. That’s when I got the best shots.”

“What did Wes have to say about all this late night work?” Marc asked.

“You know Wes. He’s a computer fanatic,” Jasmine told Dana with a chuckle. “After-midnight work might as well be broad daylight to him.”

Jasmine hesitated a moment before continuing. “Well that is, until he suddenly figured out which part of town I’d been going to all those late nights. He has asked me not to go back alone.”

Dana shot a concerned glance toward the self-assured woman. “He’s absolutely right. Don’t go there alone…in fact…don’t go back there at all. Let the FBI take over the surveillance now.”

Jasmine raised her chin. “It’s my story.”

“Naturally. I’ll ask my boss to make sure you’re the one to break any news.” Dana spotted a blurry face in one of the night shots. “Is that Escalante?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve only seen his photo on the Internet.” Jasmine handed her a magnifying glass. “Whoever that man is, he arrived in the company of several goons and a chauffeur. It could be Escalante.”

Marc remained quiet as they rifled through the photos. The idea that he was looking at drug lords—at men who held his fate in the palm of their hands—had taken the spark right out of him.

He glanced down at the picture in his hand and almost passed it by. Then the reality of what he was seeing hit him. “I can’t believe this. Jasmine, have you ever seen this man before?” Waving the picture at her, he forced himself to calm down and try to hold the photo steady.

Both women looked at it. “Actually, that man did look familiar to me,” Jasmine replied after she’d checked the photo in his hand. “But I haven’t been able to place him. I do remember that he showed up at the coffee suppliers office just before dawn twice in the last month.”

The anger swiftly blasted past his normal reserve. “Son of a bitch.” Marc handed the picture to Dana. “This is David Chastain. He’s an assistant federal prosecutor for our district. And he’s in charge of prosecuting my case.”

“Well, that makes him a very interesting man in my book,” Dana said calmly.

“Interesting?” He tried to keep his voice steady but tiny cracks of tension burst through. “Don’t you see what this means? Chastain must be working for the cartel. He’s the one that helped them frame me.”

“Again,” Dana began. “Interesting premise. But you don’t have any proof.”

“Proof? Why else would a federal prosecutor be sneaking into a known cartel front? And before dawn at that?”

Dana laid her hand on his forearm. “Calm down, Danforth. We’ll run a background check on him. That’ll give us a start. Then we’ll check his bank records and credit lines.”

He knew she was just trying to placate him. “All of that is circumstantial,” he ground out. “And besides, it’ll take too long. You heard Ian. We’ve only got a couple more weeks to get my name cleared or Ian gives in to the cartel.”

“We can’t panic here and ruin the investigation,” she said softly. “Let’s just take each step as it comes. We’ll find the proof we need to clear your name.”

Marc muttered to himself, knowing it was useless to argue with her. But he would be damned if any fresh-faced prosecutor was going to get away with bringing down the Danforth family. He would just have to think of something.

Dana made arrangements with Jasmine to copy all of her notes to turn over to the FBI. Then she wrote her a receipt for the photos. Meanwhile, Marc stood up and paced the room, trying to come up with a plan.

“Jasmine,” Dana said at last. “Something just occurred to me. Where were you when you took these pictures? In a vehicle on the street?”

Jasmine shook her head. “No. I considered that. But I came to the conclusion that I’d be too exposed.”

“Good thinking. So where were you?”

“The newspaper just happens to own one of the warehouses across the street from the cartel’s office,” Jasmine told her through a grin. “They store newsprint and extra equipment there. It was actually quite comfortable too…except for an occasional rat.”

“Hmm. Do you think you could get me a key to the place? Without giving away who wants it, that is?”

Jasmine shrugged a shoulder. “Probably. I can try.”

The afternoon was nearly gone, and Marc didn’t want to hang around the office any longer. So he thanked Jasmine for all her help and told Dana to get ready to face the reporters downstairs.

On their way down in the elevator, he could feel her trembling beside him. “Just don’t say anything to any of them, slick,” he murmured. “You’ll be a big hit if you simply stand there and smile. The cameras will love that face of yours.” He took her hand and squeezed it to give her a little bit of his own strength.

“Smiling will be the hardest part,” she told him. But he also noticed that she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin with a determined grimace.

As it turned out, there were only a handful of reporters hanging around by the employee entrance. Most of them seemed to be photographers and not terribly interested in getting long quotes.

“When are you two planning on tying the knot?” one of them yelled out, amid the click of shutter lenses.

“As soon as we can,” Marc replied with a casual air.

“Aren’t you afraid the nuptials might have to be held in the slammer?” someone else asked.

Before he could answer that one, Dana turned to the man with a wide smile. “Not at all. In this country, innocent people don’t go to jail for crimes they didn’t commit.”

That got a huge laugh from the crowd, and the flashbulbs popped around them frantically. He bent over to whisper in her ear. “Nice save, sugar. Thanks.”

After twenty more minutes of nonstop smiling, Marc thanked everyone and helped Dana into the passenger side of the SUV. He drove away slowly, watching the reporters disperse in his rearview mirror.

“I imagine that ought to hold them,” he told her.

“I hope so. I think my face is permanently stuck in this position.” She rubbed her cheeks with her palms.

“How about if we go home and I fix us a little something to eat? I’ll give you a back rub after dinner—as a reward for a great save with the paparazzi.”

She shot him a sideways scowl, but then reached down and slipped off her shoes. “Make it a foot rub and you’re on. But first, drive around town a little. We need to deliver these files to the FBI office and make sure no one is following us.”

The normal twenty-minute drive home took over an hour. And Marc spent most of it racking his brain for a plan to link David Chastain to the cartel and save his skin.

Finally, he decided that he wanted to break into Chastain’s office and rummage through his files. Maybe with a little luck he’d find incriminating evidence. Looking over to Dana, Marc came to the conclusion that she would never agree to such a thing. It was totally illegal—and possibly dangerous.

So now he had to dream up a way to get out of the house without her.

Treating her like a queen, with a steak dinner, a bottle of his best merlot and a long soaking bath, was more his pleasure than hers. By midnight, sitting in front of the fireplace, she was groggy and pliable. Just the way he’d hoped she would be by now.

Stretching his arms, he gave a good imitation of a yawn. “Guess it’s time to hit the sack.” He stood and turned to her.

“Mmm, hmm,” she groaned. “It’s been a nice evening, Marc. Thank you.”

He pulled her to her feet. But she came up like a rag doll and ended pressed into his chest. Having her there, cuddled against him all soft and warm, made the whole scene much too intimate and cozy. He considered dragging her off to his bed instead of putting her into hers and then sneaking off for his breaking-and-entering caper.

She was nearly asleep standing up, and Marc shook his head at his own foolishness. Naw. Dana had made it clear enough that her first allegiance was to the law and the FBI. He wouldn’t take advantage of her in a moment of weakness. Hers or his.

“Let’s get you to bed, sugar,” he mumbled. What he’d decided to take advantage of was the opportunity to prove his innocence.

Marc lifted her off her feet and swung her into the guest bed. “Night, Dana. Sleep tight.” He paused only long enough to pull the blankets around her and to smooth away a soft curl that covered her cheek.

Creeping down the hall to his bedroom, he figured he would give her a half hour to fall sound asleep. His plan was going to be tricky. She’d already proven she was a light sleeper. But without Laddie around, Marc knew he could get out of the house without waking her.

He turned on the TV in his bedroom. Though he never watched the thing, the noise would make a great cover. Then he turned off all the lights and waited.

When he was nearly sleepy enough to decide to give up the whole idea, Marc knew it was now or never. He slipped down the hall past her closed bedroom door and snuck into the darkened kitchen. He planned to go out the back door and then idle the car out of the yard.

With his shoes in hand, Marc made it to the door. But right before he put his hand on the alarm to disable it, the image entered his mind of doing this exact same thing as a teenager at boarding school. What was the matter with him? A grown man, sneaking out of his own house.

Dana. She’d be so upset when she discovered he’d gone off without her. He couldn’t stand imagining her disappointment.

Setting his shoes on the floor, he turned back and flipped on the overhead light. No. If he was going to find the proof of his innocence, she would just have to agree to come with him.

He marched through the house, flipping on lights as he went. Marc hoped she wasn’t sleeping too soundly, but he couldn’t let that stop him. She had to hear him out. He had to make her listen.

When he pushed open her door, he was surprised to find Dana fully dressed and on her feet.

“Changed your mind?” She was checking her gun and didn’t look up at him.

“You knew?”

She chuckled deep in her throat. “It’s what I would’ve done if I were you.” Stashing the gun in a holster at her shoulder, she shrugged on a jacket. “Mind you, I never would’ve let you get out of the yard without me…but I’m very glad you decided to come back on your own.”

Marc cleared his throat. “Are we going to Chastain’s office together?”

“No. That would be illegal—and probably useless. If there’s anything incriminating of Chastain’s that we can use, it’ll be encrypted on his computer and not laying around his office for anyone to find. I think in Chastain’s case, we’ll be better off letting the Bureau tail his movements and get a warrant to tap his phone and computer.”

“Then, where are we going?”

Dana finally looked over at Marc and felt the jolt clear down to her toes. When dressed in a suit and tie like he’d been earlier today, the man was devastatingly handsome. But put him in jeans and a black pullover and the sight did wild and wicked things to her libido.

Damn, but she was sure glad he hadn’t tried to leave her behind. It looked like Marc Danforth was turning out to be just as honest and trustworthy as everyone said he was. So how come he kept trying to hit on her in her most vulnerable moments? It couldn’t be because he really thought she was beautiful, could it?

Exasperated with the direction of her thoughts, Dana pulled car keys out of her backpack and sidled past him into the hall. “We’re going to check out that newspaper warehouse on Montgomery Street. I’m sure Steve’s gotten permission for us to enter it by now. I called him about it after dinner.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Marc narrow his eyes. He was beginning to figure out that she’d been planning this all along.

“Well?” she urged as she started down the hall. “Come on, Danforth. You’re about to get your first lesson in surveillance. You’ll love it. It’s a barrel of laughs.”

Three hours and four huge mugs of D & D Coffeehouse’s extrastrong coffee later, the silence of the dingy warehouse was beginning to weigh on her nerves. Marc had been sitting still, with a pair of binoculars trained on the coffee suppliers’ alleyway entrance for the last hour.

Dana did a couple of isometric exercises with her calves and forearms and then decided to break the silence. “This has to be that boring time you were mentioning the other night. As long as we keep a careful watch, there’s no reason we can’t talk. How about telling me what happened a year ago that made you swear off dating?”

Even in the dark, she could see him grimace. “It’s not a big deal, Dana. I didn’t find out I had an incurable disease or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

When she didn’t counter his snide remark, he seemed to finally give up his reluctance to talk. “All right. You might as well hear about my most embarrassing moment. If I don’t tell you, you’ll hear it from one of my brothers or cousins anyway.”

He didn’t take the glasses away from his eyes, but he relaxed back onto the stack of newsprint behind him. “A little over a year ago I thought I was the Danforth that had everything going. I was engaged to marry my college sweetheart. We were redecorating the farm so the two of us could start our lives there. I had recently been named Chief Counsel for my family’s business. And my best friend from boarding school had just moved to the area to help me put together the family’s new charitable foundation.”

He took a breath. “Everything was right with the world.”

“A charitable foundation?”

Marc nodded in the dark, but she could see his features by the faint light streaking through the dirty windows. “The Danforth Foundation. I wanted our family to stand for something important. Dad was willing. He thought it would be good for his political career.”

“So what happened? Did you set up the foundation?”

“No.” He took a deep breath and she knew he was steeling himself to say something that might hurt. “I…I was pretty full of myself at the time. Thought I was on the brink of a great life with the perfect woman. Thought I was better than my brothers and cousins who wouldn’t or couldn’t settle down and find someone who loved them.”

“Pride has been the downfall of many men and women over the centuries,” she whispered.

Shaking his head sadly, he grimaced. “Yes, well. I had it—in spades. Then last fall, I got lucky and managed to come home a day earlier than I’d planned from a fund-raising trip I’d taken with Dad. The condo was dark. I figured Alicia was already asleep so I took off my shoes and tiptoed to the bedroom.”

Marc sighed, and hesitated to continue for long enough to make her afraid of what was to follow.

“I heard a noise coming from our bed that no man in love should ever hear,” he finally said with a shudder. “When I turned on the light, there was my fiancée…in the throes of naked passion and…straddling my best friend.”

Seven

Dana pressed her lips tightly together, trying to silence the cry that was forming in her throat. She knew Marc wouldn’t want her to be shocked, or disgusted, or sorry for him. But she was—damn it. She was all those things and more.

How could anyone treat a nice guy like him that way? With all the bad guys she’d met in life, why was it that the one good guy ended up being the one that got shafted?

“So did you kill them?” she muttered. “No jury on earth would’ve convicted you if you had.”

She heard him chuckle and was relieved to know she’d taken the right tack.

“No. But I have to confess that I considered it.” He put the glasses down and took a slug of old coffee. “What I did was slink away to lick my wounds. I moved out to the farm, changing scenery to get away from the memories. And I dove into my work. I kept mostly to myself, except for a few charitable fundraisers and a couple of mandatory family functions.”

He laughed out loud at his own misery. “So of course, I had to be the Danforth that Escalante chose for his frame-up. Nothing like a grand jury indictment to get a person back in the limelight…whether they want to be there or not.”

Dana figured Escalante had picked on Marc because he was squeaky clean and made a good martyr. The papers ate up that kind of thing.

But Escalante hadn’t counted on the FBI…and her.

Marc fell silent again, and she was content to quietly sit and think as the night wore on toward dawn. Dana made two definitive decisions. First, she was going to take down Escalante—personally. If she had to hound him for the rest of her life, the drug lord would never forget that he’d picked the wrong man to persecute.

And secondly, Dana vowed to be the one to bring Marc back into the world of caring relationships between a man and a woman. She had absolutely no experience with such things, of course. But she sure as hell could give it her best shot. For a man who simply oozed sexual energy, he’d been celibate long enough.

She refused to consider that maybe she wanted to explore their relationship for purely selfish reasons. No. It was much easier to tell herself she was doing this to save a good and kindhearted soul from his lonely and isolated life.

If Marc wanted her the way he said he did, then she would be the first woman to let him know he was still a desirable man. A desirable man who didn’t need a woman that came with an ugly background and no class. A woman like her.

Anyway, she knew the two of them would never be able to forge a lasting relationship. She was sure that Marc saw that as well as she did.

So she just must be the right one to bring him back his sexuality. Because of their wide differences, he wouldn’t feel like he was obligated to her in any way. That should make things easier on him. He’d be free to make love to her and then go back to his life when she moved on with hers.

Yes. That was a sensible solution. It was a nice thing to do for a decent but terribly injured man.

Dana wasn’t entirely positive she could become enough of a vamp to make him forget his past. But at the very least she had to try to help him heal. Knowing next to nothing about sexual things didn’t matter when it came to Marc.

If she had anything to say about it, their pretend love affair was about to become very real.

“It’s almost dawn,” she told him softly. “We’d better get out of here before the neighborhood begins to wake up and we’re spotted.” She gathered the coffee mugs and folded the blanket that she’d spread out for them to sit upon.

“No one showed up last night,” he grumbled.

“No. I’m afraid most surveillance is like that. Hours and days of boredom punctuated by a few minutes of sheer terror.”

“Can we try again tonight?”

She cocked her head to study him in the gray light. “It might be better if we got another team from the FBI’s new task force to take over the watch every other night.”

He closed his eyes and made an effort to keep his voice low. “I have to do something, Dana. I can’t…I can’t just sit around waiting for someone else to save me.”

“We’ll keep you involved. I promise.” She led the way to the back of the building. “Are you hungry? Sleepy? Need a shower?”

Marc stepped through the alley entrance and secured the door behind him. What was he besides being frustrated, he wondered?

Dana moved to the driver’s side of her FBI-issued car and unlocked the doors.

“I’m just great thanks, Miss Mother Hen,” he lied.

How had his life gotten so messed up? Feeling as helpless as he had when his mother died, he tried to think of what had worked back then that helped make him feel stronger? He’d only been a baby really, but he remembered that something had calmed him. What had it been?

He thought about his older brothers, misbehaving to act out their grief and frustration at not understanding their mother’s death. But how had he managed?

It suddenly hit him. “Dana, have you ever seen the sun come up over the Atlantic?”

“What?”

Smiling, he buckled himself into the passenger seat beside her. “I suppose you have. But you’ve never seen it the way it is from Crofthaven. That’s what I want to do. Do you mind?”

“What?”

“I want to go watch the sun come up from the private cove at Crofthaven. Okay?”

“Well, I guess so. We won’t wake up or disturb anyone, will we?”

“There isn’t anyone staying at the house now except the servants. Dad’s on his campaign trip. In fact, it’s the best place I know of to hide out. To think.”

“Okay then,” she grinned. “But I’d rather that you try to relax enough to get some sleep. You haven’t had a lot of rest lately.”

Sleep was the last thing on his mind by the time they passed through the gardener’s gate and turned away from the main house toward the ocean. He was thrilled and excited to be going back to his childhood hidey-hole.

The midnight blue skies were just beginning to give way to streaks of rose and gold. A few storm clouds were out on the horizon. But that usually made for a great sunrise.

He directed Dana to park under a stand of salt pines, and led her down the rocky path between rows of sea grape and sand dunes. Marc hadn’t been down to the beach in years. Hadn’t managed to think of it much lately at all.

The smell of bracing salt air brought back pleasant memories of laying in the hot sand and playing in the light surf with his brothers and cousins. There weren’t any bad ghosts here. No bad vibes to be heard over the screams of the gulls. Nothing here but the echoes of good times, roaring in his mind like the phantom sounds of waves when you put a conch shell to your ear.

“Oh it’s lovely,” Dana said when she stood at the water’s edge. “Is it low tide?”

He shrugged. “Don’t know. But we’ll sit back a little ways, just in case.”

Dana snapped her fingers. “The blanket. We need the blanket to sit in the sand. I’ll go get it from the trunk.” She turned and scurried back up the dunes toward the pines and her car.

Marc stood there watching her go, enthralled with the carefree way she moved. Her long hair swung wildly down her back, drawing attention to the curve of her hips.

He didn’t feel much like himself all of a sudden. Maybe it was because he’d finally gotten that nasty story of last year’s betrayal off his chest. He hadn’t told the whole story to anyone before Dana, and saying it out loud made it seem more silly than despicable.

What he hadn’t told Dana was that the more he thought about Alicia making it with Ben, the more he’d come to the conclusion that he hadn’t really loved her in the first place. And wasn’t it true that no relationship problem was all one-sided? He’d been so wrapped up in his new projects that he’d probably been ignoring Alicia’s needs.

By now, he’d come around to deciding that he was grateful to Alicia for giving him a good excuse to end the engagement. But he wasn’t exactly ready to forgive and forget where his old buddy was concerned. Ben’s betrayal was the one spot that would remain sore for a long while.

Dana waved to him from the top of a dune and started down the path, bringing him back to the present. The sun was just beginning to climb over the bank of clouds on the eastern horizon, and the peachy-colored rays lit up the beach with a rosy glow. As he watched, the light shone on her face and turned her skin to amber.

God, she was beautiful. As she bounced down the path, she looked like a Gypsy with those big brown eyes, amber skin and those ebony curls making a halo around her head. She’d been so easy to talk to. He wasn’t sorry that he’d told her the whole story.

As he helped her spread the blanket over the sand, Marc had a great sense of well-being. He remembered his grandmother saying that everything happened for a reason. Maybe he was the Danforth who was meant to be involved with the cartel so that the fates could bring him Dana. And maybe she was meant to be the FBI agent assigned to him so that she could bring him peace of mind.

It all sounded quite rational in his hypersensitive and exhausted brain.

Dana settled on the blanket, sitting cross-legged and focusing her gaze to the east and the rising sun. He kicked off his shoes and socks and sat on the blanket too. For fifteen minutes they sat quietly watching the sun cast a pinkish hue across the waves.

“Why don’t you take off your shoes and get comfortable?” he asked her. The sun was warming the sand and he dug his toes in it like he had as a kid.

“Are you relaxing?” Dana took off her shoes and socks and laughed as she wiggled her toes.

“I’m getting there.”

“Good.” She shrugged out of her jacket and removed her gun from its holster. “I think it would be great if you could manage a short nap. You need rest in order to concentrate. I had a boss once that insisted all agents in his section stop work and get at least seven hours of sleep a day. He said the worst thing you could do for your health was to not get enough sleep.”

“But you don’t sleep that long.”

“No,” she agreed. “I’ve never needed that much sleep all at one time…high metabolism…I guess. But I do try to catch a couple of naps during the day. It clears my head. Why don’t you try it?”

She checked the safety on her gun and placed it and the holster under the far corner of the blanket. “We won’t be disturbed here, will we?” she asked, rolling up her jeans.

“No. This place is a private cove and totally out of the way. No one ever comes down here.”

Marc was fascinated by her. Every action was liquid and smooth. He took off his jacket and decided it had grown warm enough to take off his pullover shirt, as well. Rolling them up, he bunched and stuffed the roll under his head as he lay on his back on the blanket.

He looked up at the puffy white-and-gray clouds in the sky and heard Dana sigh. He was afraid to glance over at her. Afraid that his desire would show too clearly if he looked at her now. And he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t rush her. After all, she’d said she was here to work and not for play.

Resolutely, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath of salty air. It would probably rain later, he thought. This time of year the clouds came up off the ocean and soft fall showers cooled off the warm, sticky days.

For a few minutes he tried to clear his mind and rest. But knowing Dana sat that close to him was a fact impossible to ignore—and it was beginning to make him sweat.

Finally, he turned on his side and propped himself up on one arm so he could look at her. She lay on her side facing him, eyes closed and her head resting on one arm. What a gorgeous picture she made.

Her coloring was the thing that riveted him. The golden skin and black hair. It was so unlike Alicia’s blond blue-eyed elegance that he felt as though he was facing a children’s action figure.

Dana was strong and focused, just like one of those children’s heroines. The power of her personality drew him, even while she napped.

Silky black curls drooped over her cheek and curled seductively around her slender neck. The V neck of her T-shirt revealed the curve of one silky breast. He had to take a deep, big breath to continue lying still beside her.

Though it had been over a year since he’d felt the weight of a woman’s breast in his hand, a man just couldn’t forget such a thing. His body responded to the sight of hers with predictable results. He had to grit his teeth against the growing hardness of his muscles.

He forced his eyes to move on with their perusal, glancing down to the dip of her waist, the round hips that led to the impossibly long legs. A vision of those legs wrapped tightly around him brought his attention sharply back to her upper body. Lord, but he was longing to find satisfaction in that sweet body.

When his gaze ricocheted back to her nubby-tipped breasts, he noticed that he could see the hardened peaks distinctly through the material of her shirt. He shot a glance to her face, chagrined to discover she was staring at him with heavy-lidded awareness. She never moved, but held him with her steady gaze nonetheless.

An intense wave of yearning flooded his senses, shooting heated blood to his thighs, hands and chest. “I…I’m…I was just…”

She pressed her fingers to his lips. “Don’t explain. I like it when you look at me.”

He could feel his heart hammering to a thick and aroused beat. “I thought you said you didn’t want…” He cleared his throat and tried again. “But…”

“I know what I said.” Her dark, sultry eyes held his, while she tentatively lowered her hand to touch his chest. “But you’ve changed my mind for me. I’ve been wanting to touch you since the first moment I laid eyes on you.” She drew circles in his chest hair with her fingers, lingering over his nipples and then trailing down to his waist.

Every nerve in his body was alive with feeling. He moved his hand to her cheek, drew aside a soft curl and tucked it behind her ear. But then that wayward hand refused to turn away from the softness of her skin, the line of her jaw.

He didn’t know what had prompted her sudden change of heart about them, but he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.

He let his fingers linger on the velvet of her skin for a moment more, then let them skip lightly down her neck and farther, to the pulse beat at the base. She closed her eyes, afraid to let her vulnerability shine through.

Her full, rosy lips were parted ever so slightly. The restless way she arched her back made him positive that she was feeling the same things he was. She couldn’t hide from him. Not her vulnerability—nor her sensuality.

Swaying toward her, he felt dizzy and lost. He leaned over and gently brushed his mouth across hers. Just the lightest touch of lips was all he’d meant to do. But the velvety smooth pleasure of her mouth and the small, soft noise she made left his brain stuttering and stunned.

He took her chin with one hand and let himself sink deeply into the seduction of her mouth. She tasted of the ocean and the sky, of all the earthy and sensual things he’d ever loved.

He kissed her…and kissed her. The moist heat bubbled up between them just as the sweat beaded across the small of his back. Pulling them both to sitting positions, she threw her arms around his neck and pressed herself tightly against his chest.

“Let me touch you,” he said against her lips. Rubbing his hands up and down her spine, he felt her shirt sliding over her skin.

She pushed back slightly and settled herself on her bottom. “You’re sure this place is private?” she asked with a groggy and heavily impassioned rasp in her voice.

“Positive.” He didn’t waste a split second with dragging her shirt over her head. Taking in the full view of her, he groaned. “You are so beautiful.”

A sheer white bra covered her full breasts. But not so much that it hid the darkened nipples, puckered and hard beneath his hungry gaze. Paralyzed with need, he sat frozen and stared at the tantalizing sight.

“Marc, please,” she moaned. But before he could move to please himself, Dana took his hands and drew them to her breasts. “Touch me,” she begged.

He traced the dusky outline of her nipples with his thumbs, but kept his eyes trained on hers. Using the pads of his fingers, he traced around the edges of the bra and watched her pupils dilate. He wanted to go slow. Wanted to savor the flush of desire he saw on her face.

Honestly he did. But she was affecting him on a level no woman had ever reached before, and he wanted to know why. Why was this so different? Why couldn’t he think past the erotic longings?

“You want more?” he gasped.

She nodded, but kept her gaze steady.

He reached around her back and unsnapped the bra. Then edged his fingers beneath the straps and tormented them both by gliding those straps down her shoulders in a slow, playful slide. She jerked her arms free and he let the bra float away.

Once again he had to take a breath at the sheer beauty of her body. He kept his arms at his side and looked his fill. She eventually moved to cover herself, but he grabbed her wrists and held her arms at her side.

“Part of the fun is looking, Dana. Don’t hide from me. I love your body.” He cupped her breasts with his palms and bent his head to pull one nipple between his lips, lapping her sensitive skin with his tongue. “Looking. Touching. Tasting. It’s all naturally designed to make you feel good,” he whispered against her skin.

He blew a hot breath across the tip of her breast, then nipped it with his teeth. She arched her back again and writhed as he tugged at her breast more insistently.

Looking up into her face, he saw her nostrils flare, her lips part and her eyes flame with desire. She gripped his shoulders and dug her nails into his skin. The sensation threw him into an excruciatingly sexual arousal and blinded him with a blue haze of need.

Gasping for air, he pushed her backward, shifted his hands to her wrists and pulled them over her head. A kind of madness filled him. A madness born from her strong nature and from his year of celibacy.

He shoved a thigh between her legs and opened his mouth on her throat. Sucking her tender skin, he licked his way down the curve of her breast and flicked his tongue lightly over the sensitive skin.

She arched against him, bucking her hips and straining against his hold on her wrists. Oh, but the taste of her was more than he bargained for. He feasted on the sweet, salty and decadent pleasures.

Running the flat of his tongue around her belly button, he sucked, lathed and nipped with abandon. When Marc ran into the waistband of her jeans, he opened the zipper with a quick rip before either one of them could think about it, dragging the denim down over her hips and pitching it over his shoulder.

He was lost in her softness. In the little cotton and lace panties she wore and the quiver she made when he covered her mound with his mouth. Kissing his way down one thigh and back up the other, he delighted in her strangled cries and the dampness at the juncture of her legs.

Clutching at his hair, she tugged him back up her body and kissed him with a violent need. Marc loved that she seemed as frantic as he was. Dana, the tough FBI agent, desperate and wild with passion for him.

He was helpless to do anything else but meet her demand for demand. When she reached for his zipper with trembling hands, he helped her by shifting to rid himself of the clothing. Then he straddled her hips, bending over to take her breast into his mouth one more time.

Her eyes grew suddenly wide and she reached for his rigid sex. She touched the tip, running her finger down the smooth shaft with pleasure. A bead of moisture erupted under her touch and he had to move away from her before he lost it altogether.

Reaching out to him with both arms wide, she writhed and moaned. “Please, Marc. Please.”

He took the invitation, pulling her panties off with abandon. She spread her legs and he touched her intimately, judging her readiness. Hot. Wet. And inviting.

Her hands moved over his chest, finding his nipples and running over his muscles. Bracing himself with one arm, he urgently caught her buttocks with the other hand and lifted her hips toward him. At last. He entered her on an agonizingly slow slide, while a shudder tore through him at the tight, perfect pleasure of it.

Dana tensed against him. And it suddenly hit him that she was too tight, too tense.

He stopped, lifting his head to question her. “You’re not a virgin. That can’t be.” He moaned with the shock of it and tried to gather his badly scattered wits.

“Please, Marc. I need you,” she demanded with passion.

That simple but frantic plea might not have been enough to send him over the edge of reason. But then she wound her legs tightly around his waist, gripped him internally and arched once more, sending him spiraling deeper into her glorious warmth.

He found himself in a maze of heat and pulsing passion. With Dana swirling all around him—whimpering, begging, squirming under him.

“I…I can’t…” Her sobs were those of a woman who was completely out of her element and didn’t quite know…

He reached between them, flicked a finger over her center and dove into welcoming depths. Her cry was savage and feral as she shuddered around him. She dug her nails into his arms and bit his neck as her body continued to quake and jolt.

Marc loved the frantic joy in her voice, the ferocious animal-like movements she made. He pulled her up tight, thrusting violently—until he, too, let go. Until the world and all its problems were nothing more than dim memories. Until he and Dana were the only souls left on the face of the earth.

Throwing his head back, he howled with the welcome of his release—the passionate proof of his desire.

Eight

W hat have I done ?

Dana couldn’t catch her breath while her heart still hammered in her chest. It’d just hit her that making love with Marc was the most powerful…the most startlingly beautiful experience of her entire lifetime.

He pressed a kiss against her neck. A gentle kiss, it was filled with a tenderness that was threatening to break her heart.

In her head the whole thing had been way over the top. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Probably thousands of women lost their virginity every day. They couldn’t all feel this same stupendous surge of…of…power. That was the only word Dana could think of that explained what she’d felt—was still feeling.

Marc had been crazy with his need for her. When she’d hesitated or when she begged for more, he complied with her every wish. She’d been the boss, the one in control. And he’d been the one to show her what her body was capable of feeling.

As if he sensed her disquiet, Marc lifted his upper body, leaning on his elbows above her. “Dana,” he groaned. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, but had the feeling she wasn’t going to like having any conversation with him right now. His tone of voice sounded guilty and full of regret. Dana wasn’t in the mood.

“You were a virgin.” He blurted it out as if it were an accusation—not like the statement of fact it was.

“True,” she admitted. “But just leave it be. We don’t have to talk. It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.” He idly stroked his hand along her shoulder and down her arm. “You’re so…sexy…sensual.”

The blazing morning sun made the red highlights in his brown hair gleam, sparkling like the glassy reflections off the top of the ocean’s waves. He was so good-looking she nearly cried just staring up at him.

“Thank you. So are you,” she managed on a half-choke.

His expression turned grave. “Oh hell, Dana. I thought since you weren’t a schoolgirl—and you’re an FBI agent, after all.” He looked so exasperated and so adorable. “I was too rough…and I forgot to use any protection…and I didn’t use my head at all.”

He bent and murmured against her lips. “Forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive.” She tried to choose her words carefully. “Where I grew up, sex was a dirty word. If a girl was easy, she was just as likely to get gang raped as she was to snare a boyfriend. So, very early on I made a vow not to let any boy talk me out of my virginity…to become tough enough to fight my way out of potential hot spots. I learned to fight…not make love.”

Dana twisted so she could look up into his eyes. “By the time I entered Quantico for training, the idea of being the world’s oldest virgin was too humiliating to contemplate. I didn’t dare date anyone who might tell the others. I just pretended that I had a boyfriend who lived out of town, and stayed to myself on off hours.”

She swallowed and continued. “But this morning I wanted to be with you. When I saw you looking at me with that…desperation…and desire in your eyes, I wanted you to be the one. I gave myself permission to take what was offered—for the first time in my life.” Touching the tip of his beautiful Roman nose, she let her finger wander down to trace the line of his lips. “And you were worth waiting for.”

“Dana…” He sucked her finger into his mouth and pressed his body hard against hers, his chest brushing her breasts and their hips jamming together. “I thought I’d never make love to another woman. Just the idea of it seemed totally impossible after last year. But then suddenly—I was desperate for you. I’m still desperate for you.”

Marc kissed her with a fierceness that stirred her soul, drinking from her lips as if she were his first sip of water after an impossibly long thirst. “I want more. Again and again,” he groaned against her lips.

He moved his powerful upper body closer to hers. Dana jolted as surprising new sensations began spreading from the point where his hard arousal pressed inside her body. She’d thought he would take a long while to recuperate. But all of sudden, he was moving, pushing, sending rippling currents of need and pleasure to every inch of her.

Slow and searing.

Marc stoked the fire between them once again as his lips moved across one breast at the same time he teased the other nipple between two fingers. Dana felt the fire ignite under her skin. Felt her mind growing soft along with her body.

The eruption of her senses came fast this time as he shuddered into her, gripping her tightly enough that the world spun and shook with wild explosions rocking between them. After all that, she thought that both their hearts must’ve stopped altogether. But he kept her secured in his arms and firmly rolled them over on the blanket together.

They lay sated and drugged with pleasure as the sun beat down on their naked bodies and the gentle ocean breeze caressed their hair. With her still cradled snugly against him, he closed his eyes and Dana listened as his breathing evened out and slowed.

She lay still and watched him sleep, then began to take inventory of what she was feeling. Nothing hurt. Nothing that is except a general achy feeling in the vicinity of her heart.

Dana gazed at the long smooth lines of his legs and hip, as he sprawled on the blanket next to her. The man was genuinely beautiful. She took in every inch until the torture of wanting him became a poignant, depressing pain running through her entire body.

Oh man, she’d really gotten herself in a world of trouble this time. Wanting anyone this much was bound to turn out wrong.

The sun dipped behind a cloud and Dana felt a cold chill run across her skin. They could never have a lasting relationship. She wasn’t positive that either of them would even know how.

Their situation had just become impossible. Unless…she could find a way to go back. Go back to being a tough, law enforcement professional, using her knowledge and connections to help a man who needed her. Go back to nothing more than friendship.

Determined to somehow put aside what the last few hours had really meant to her, she eased out from under his arm and sat up. The sun eased through a hole in the clouds and she realized it must be nearing mid-morning. Sighing, she reached over and grabbed a handful of warm sand, letting it slip between her fingers like the minutes of the time they had left.

Her first experience of desire was becoming just a memory. It had to be put behind her and forgotten. That was the only way. The best way.

A gentle tickle, like the flutter of butterfly wings, moved across his skin and pulled him from sleep. When Marc opened his eyes, he remembered where he was. And he remembered…Dana.

She sat across from him on the blanket, fully dressed and slowly pouring sand over his body. “Good afternoon,” she said quietly. “I wanted you to get enough rest. But as the day got later and the sky darker, I began to worry that it might rain on us.”

He reached out, wanting to pull her to him for one more kiss. He was still not completely shed of his drugged sense of need. Though his brain was still fogged over with sleep, he wanted to experience yet another taste of her.

But she scooted back—away from his touch.

A tiny sliver of dread replaced the drifting sense of lust he’d felt upon awakening. In the overcast light, he saw a purplish bruise along the base of her neck and noticed her lips were swollen from his kisses. He touched his own lips and wondered if he had that same well-loved look.

When he looked down and saw the faint scratches on his shoulders, their morning in each other’s arms came flooding back to him in full, vivid detail. They’d been wild together. Savage and visceral.

After being numb for so long, well over a year now, it surprised the hell out of him just how much he’d felt with her. Marc had returned all the passion and all the tender caring he’d witnessed in her eyes when she looked at him.

He’d been beguiled by her need. Fascinated that the tough FBI agent had waited—and wanted him. And he’d been stunned to discover a new dimension to making love.

Each of them had wanted only to please the other. It was the way he’d always imagined it could be. She’d managed to soothe his spirit and go a long way toward healing his battered soul.

Marc wanted to explore this relationship much further. He’d thought he’d been in love before, several times. But all of sudden, with Dana he’d felt a closeness and a need that was beyond all of his experience.

She sat there a few feet away, obviously waiting for him to free himself from the last bounds of sleep. He searched her eyes, expecting to see the same sweet connection that he’d seen in them only a few hours before.

“You’d better get dressed,” she said, coolly. “It’s getting late and we have plans to make.” Averting her eyes, she stood and brushed the sand from her hands.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, his heart threatening to burst from his chest. “Talk to me, Dana, damn it.”

Shaking her head, she took another step away. “Nothing’s the matter. It’s about to rain. And it’s time we decided how to proceed with our investigation. I have some ideas I’d like to discuss with you.”

“Wait a minute.” He scrambled over the blanket, retrieved his slacks and quickly yanked them on. She’d turned her back and was staring up at the path, inspecting the way through the pine trees at the top of the dune. “Wait just a minute.”

He reached out and took her shoulder, spinning her around to face him. “Dana,” his voice cracked with emotion when he said her name. “Please talk to me. Are you sorry about what we did? Were you lying when you said you’d wanted me to be the one?”

When she looked into his eyes, he spotted that fleeting look of vulnerability again. Right before she shut him out with a frozen stare. “Not at all, Marc. I’m just glad the anticipation is finally over. You were very gentle and made the whole process quite pleasant.”

Pleasant? He couldn’t have felt more like he’d been hit over the head with a brick than if she’d actually slugged him with a real one. Funny how a sensible word like that could make such anger surge up and threaten to swallow him whole.

“What…” His voice left him and he had to fight to get it back. “What are you trying to tell me, Dana?”

“I’m not trying to tell you anything,” she said, as she pulled her shoulder loose from his grip. “We had a great morning, but that shouldn’t stop us from working together and finding the proof of your innocence.”

Damn it. That almost sounded right. Everything she’d said made sense if he could get his ego out of the way. Besides, he believed that her real motivation to be here was solely to get her job done, not to make him feel loved. After all, they hadn’t made each other any promises.

But then…why did it hurt so much when she brushed their time together off so cavalierly?

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