He knows he failed her once before. This time he’s determined to protect her by any means necessary...

Former police detective Zane Wales won’t let history repeat itself. He couldn’t save the woman he loved from a brutal assault, so he left the force—and Caroline Gill’s life. But now a psychopath has her in his vengeful sights. And the only way Zane can keep the strong-willed paramedic safe is to stay close 24/7—even as their reignited desire burns out of control.

Caroline can finally face down her past by helping Zane catch this perp. And she’ll give Zane all the passionate healing he needs to show they have a future together. But a danger they never saw coming will turn their second chance into a lethal, inescapable trap...

Omega Sector: Under Siege

“You’ve got to prove it, Zane.”

“Prove that I want you?” His hands gripped Caroline’s hips and pulled her down harder against him. “I don’t think there can be any doubt of that.”

“Prove that you really think I’m strong. That you’re not afraid I’ll break at the least little thing.”

“I know you won’t.”

“That you can still get lost in me. That we can get lost in each other.”

Zane’s hand reached up and tangled in her hair, bringing Caroline’s lips down hard against his. Caroline moaned. Yes. Yes, this was what she wanted...

Protector’s Instinct

Janie Crouch

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JANIE CROUCH has loved to read romance her whole life. The award-winning author cut her teeth on Mills & Boon Romance novels as a preteen, then moved on to a passion for romantic suspense as an adult. Janie lives with her husband and four children overseas. She enjoys traveling, long-distance running, movie watching, knitting and adventure/obstacle racing. You can find out more about her at www.janiecrouch.com.

This book is dedicated to Girl Tyler. It’s wondrous to have a friend who can walk with me through this craziness known as—duh, duh, duh—writer’s life. Thanks for all the talks, encouragement, TMI shares and getting messages to me from editors when I’m out of the country. And ALL CAPS. And All the Words. Boldly go, babe.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

You’re a liar. And everyone is going to know.

Caroline Gill glanced at the text on the phone, then promptly shut it down and put it away. She had ignored similar texts for the last four days, hoping they would stop. Someone obviously had the wrong number.

Caroline may be a lot of things, but a liar wasn’t one of them. Life was too short to live surrounded by lies.

She’d learned that the hard way eighteen months ago.

She made a mental note to call the phone company or look into how to block texts on her phone after her shift tonight.

Because she definitely didn’t have time to do it right now. She had a real crisis to deal with. As the ambulance pulled to a stop, Caroline jumped out of the passenger side and surveyed the utter chaos around her.

As she looked around the wreckage, she took a deep breath, trying to ascertain what she needed to do first. The thick morning fog that had blown in from the coast of Corpus Christi made everything more difficult to deal with—especially a deadly crash.

As a paramedic she dealt with accidents and injured people on a daily basis. Thankfully she didn’t experience a situation as bad as this often: at least seven cars in a deadly pileup.

She turned back to her partner, who was just getting out of the ambulance. “Kimmie, radio Dispatch. We need help. Mass casualty. Let them know.”

Kimmie did so immediately as Caroline further studied the situation before her. The fog had been a big factor in what caused this multicar pileup on State Highway 358. But a bigger factor looked to be like some idiot who had been driving the wrong way down the crowded street.

“Help me.”

Caroline heard the weak voice coming from a truck a few yards away, just one of many. Some were sobbing, some begging for help, some basically screaming. Absolute chaos in a situation where no one could see more than two or three feet in front of them.

Caroline blocked out the voices—she had to, despite their volume or the words or sounds they made. She had learned a long time ago as a paramedic that the loudest people weren’t always the ones who needed the most help.

Caroline pulled on gloves as Kimmie came running around from the driver’s seat of the ambulance they’d arrived in together. “Dispatch is sending who they can. There’s multiple calls because of this fog.”

Caroline pulled out her triage kit, including the tags of four different colors inside. “We’re going to have to tag everyone until help gets here. Thirty-second evaluations, okay? Green for minor injuries. Yellow for non-life-threatening. Red for life-threatening. And black...”

Caroline faded out. They both knew what black meant. Dead or so near to dead the victim couldn’t be helped now.

Kimmie looked a little overwhelmed. Caroline’s partner was relatively new and this was probably her first mass casualty situation. “Kimmie, you can do this. You’ve done it in training. Don’t spend more than thirty seconds with each person and make sure the tag is the first thing seen when more help arrives.”

They split up and began the always difficult job of choosing who would be treated first when more help arrived. Everyone was hurt. Everyone was scared. Everyone wanted to be the first ones treated. But they couldn’t all be.

Caroline sprinted to the first victim, who unfortunately didn’t take long to be evaluated. He was lying on the pavement covered in blood. He obviously hadn’t been wearing his seat belt and the force of the impact had thrown him through the windshield. Caroline quickly searched for a pulse, felt none, so removed her hands before trying once more, hoping she was wrong. A lot of blood loss didn’t always equate to death.

But in this case it did. “Damn it,” she muttered under her breath before pulling out a black tag and placing it near the man’s head. This would discourage other first responders from stopping for him until the other more critical cases could be taken care of.

She ran to the man screaming at the top of his lungs next. His car was the one facing the wrong direction. She braced herself for what she would find because of the sheer volume of the man’s yells. But instead of finding some gaping wound or bones protruding in a hideous injury, she found a man, probably in his late twenties, holding his hand where it looked like his pinkie was dislocated.

“Thank God,” he said as soon as she got close enough. “What took you soo-long?”

If the words slurring together didn’t give her enough of a clue of his drunken state, the stench of alcohol that immediately accosted her senses did.

“Sir, are you injured besides your finger?”

“My finger is broken, not injured.” He held it up as proof. “And the window of my car is smashed and the door won’t open. I need you to fix that right away.”

What did he think this was, AAA? Caroline didn’t have time for this jackass who—coupled with the fog—had probably been the cause of this entire situation.

“Sir, I need to know if you have any more injuries. There will be someone here soon who can help you get the door open.”

The man just narrowed his eyes and let out a string of obscenities. “Don’t you leave me here, you bitch.”

Caroline could hear the cries of other people, including at least one child. She vaguely wondered if she smashed her elbow in this guy’s face if it would look like something that just happened in the wreck. But she forced herself not to.

She handed him a yellow card. “Sir, give this to the next EMT or firefighter who comes your way, okay?”

The man immediately scoffed and threw it on the ground. “Don’t you dare leave me. All these people were driving on the wrong side of the road.” He grabbed her arm through the window. “I’ll have your job if you leave me.”

She grabbed his other, uninjured, pinkie, bending it back, knowing the pressure would cause him to release her arm. It was one of the self-defense moves she’d learned in the multiple classes she’d taken over the last year and a half.

No man would use his strength against her and make her a victim ever again.

“Unless you want me to break your other pinkie,” she said to the drunk guy, “I suggest you let me go. Besides, you’re going to be too busy sitting in jail to have my job.”

The man released her and went back to yelling his obscenities at the top of his lungs. Caroline picked up the yellow tag and removed the adhesive cover on the back, sticking it to the outside of the car. Hopefully the guy wouldn’t mess with it. She quickly moved on to the next car.

“Please help me.” A mother was sobbing in the driver’s seat, blood dripping from her face. A young girl and a baby sat in the back seat. The little girl was crying also.

“Ma’am, I’m here. It’s okay,” Caroline said, taking in the situation. The woman was pinned inside her vehicle where the front end had been crushed when it had been rear-ended into a safety railing. Her legs were trapped.

“My kids.” The mom was hysterical, unable to see or help her children in the back. “Why is Nicole crying? Are they hurt? Is the baby okay?”

Caroline used her flashlight to shine into the car as she talked to the woman. “Hey, what’s your name?” she asked the mom as she pulled on the door handle, but it wouldn’t budge. The woman’s legs were definitely pinned. The firefighters would have to get her out of here.

“Jackie.”

Caroline couldn’t tell what state Jackie’s legs would be in, but for right now she was a yellow card. Needed help, but wasn’t life-threatening. But the woman was still sobbing.

“Jackie, I’m going to check the kids now. But I need you to stop crying, okay? And hold this.” She gave the woman the yellow tag. “This lets the firefighters know what to do.”

She could see Jackie try to get herself under control. “My kids. Please, my kids.”

Caroline touched her on the shoulder through the window that had been broken. “I’m checking right now.”

She moved to the back door and opened it. A little girl in the back, about three years old, was sobbing, obviously terrified.

“Jackie, what’s your daughter’s name?”

“Nicole.”

“Hey, Nicole,” Caroline crooned. “You doing okay, sweetie?” The fog floating around the car and her mother’s cries were frightening the girl. Caroline touched her gently on the cheek and she settled a little bit.

“I want Mama,” the little girl said, hiccuping through her tears.

“I know you do. It will be just a few minutes, okay? Does anything hurt, sweetheart?” The girl seemed to be fine, but it was difficult to tell.

“No. I want Mama.”

“I’m here, sweetie.” Jackie was pulling herself together now that she could talk to her daughter. Nicole calmed down more as her mother did. “Is David okay?”

“Can you hold this for me, hon?” Caroline handed little Nicole a green tag. Someone else would check her out more thoroughly, but for right now, the girl didn’t seem to need more medical attention. “Nicole seems fine, Jackie. I’m going to check on baby David now.”

Baby David hadn’t made a sound the whole time. Caroline’s heart caught in her chest as she ran around the car to his side.

The baby, not older than six months, lay silently in his rear-facing car seat as Caroline pried open the door. As she reached over to check the baby’s pulse, she could hear Jackie’s ragged, terrified breathing.

She couldn’t see any blood or noticeable injuries, but he didn’t move at all at her touch. Caroline sent up a silent prayer that the child was alive. With babies, everything was tricky, since they were unable to communicate.

She found his pulse at the exact moment little David opened his eyes. He studied Caroline intently before taking his thumb and jamming it in his mouth, sucking on it.

“He’s okay, Jackie. He’s sucking his thumb.” She reached over David and squeezed Jackie’s shoulder. “I can’t say for certain that he is injury free, but he’s alive and he’s alert.” Caroline laid a yellow tag on baby David. He probably could be green-tagged, but with a baby she’d rather be safe than sorry. Someone would still need to check him more thoroughly.

“Jackie, you saved your kids’ lives by having them properly restrained in their car seats. You did great. I have to check on others, so I need you to keep it together. Help will be back again soon.”

Caroline didn’t wait to hear any response. She rushed to the next victim. By the time other sirens approached a few minutes later, she had evaluated many victims.

Two were dead. At least two with severe injuries. A half dozen more with minor injuries that would require attention.

And a drunken jackass, still yelling, with a dislocated pinkie.

That first dead guy she’d come across had a couple of children’s dolls in the back seat of his car. Somebody’s dad was never coming home again. Yet a drunk driver who’d never even known he was driving the wrong way down a highway was going to be just fine.

Sometimes the world just wasn’t fair. Caroline knew that much better than most by what had happened to her nearly two years ago.

This just reaffirmed it.

It was going to be a long, hard day.

* * *

TWELVE HOURS LATER, shift finished, having showered and changed at the hospital, Caroline made it home.

Except, it wasn’t exactly home, was it?

It was the fourth place she’d lived in eighteen months, the place she’d moved into six weeks ago, but it wasn’t home.

How could you call a place home when every time someone knocked on your front door it sent you into a panic?

Caroline stood in her driveway, looking up at her town house’s entrance, duffel bag swung over her shoulder, unable to go any farther. It had been the longest, professionally worst day she’d had in a long time. Her body was exhausted from the physical exertion of moving patients, administering CPR and going to one call after another today because of the fog. Her emotions were exhausted as the death toll had risen each hour.

By all means, she should go inside her house, fall into bed and be asleep before her head hit the pillow. Despite the deaths that couldn’t be avoided, Caroline and the other paramedics had done good work. Had helped make sure the death count hadn’t risen any further than it had. She should rest now. She deserved it.

But she couldn’t seem to force her legs to move any closer to her empty house.

She knew she could call one of the officers over from the Corpus Christi Police Department to come walk through her town house for her. They would understand, and someone would come immediately.

Although not the person she really wanted—really needed—to be here. He wasn’t part of the police force any longer. Zane Wales had hung up his white hat—literally and figuratively—the day they’d found Caroline raped and nearly beaten to death in her own home. The last victim of a serial rapist.

Caroline looked at her town house again, still unable to force herself to walk any closer.

What would Dr. Parker say? Caroline had been uncomfortable talking to a psychiatrist here in Corpus Christi, so her friend Sherry had convinced her to speak—just once—to the Omega Sector psychiatrist over the phone. That “just once” had then turned into talking to Dr. Parker every couple of weeks.

If Caroline called Grace Parker right now—and she had no doubt Grace would take the call—would Grace tell Caroline there was nothing to fear? To just put one foot in front of the other?

No, she would tell Caroline that only Caroline could determine what would be the best thing to do. That pushing herself too far did more damage than it did good.

Her phone buzzed in her hand and she looked down to read the text.

How do you look in the mirror knowing your lies?

She rolled her eyes. Another one? This was getting out of hand. Caroline wasn’t big on smartphones in general, so she didn’t do a lot with hers. But she had to see if there was a way to block these texts.

The text was almost enough to distract her from her fear of entering the house. She took a step forward, then stopped, wiping her hand across her face.

She couldn’t go in right now.

The thought frustrated her, but she let it go. It was okay. She would go to the Silver Eagle, a bar in town, and relax for a little while. A lot of the law enforcement and EMT gang hung out there. She could have a drink or a bite to eat or just chat. Get someone to show her how to block the annoying texts. When she was done, maybe she’d be more ready to face the big scary front door.

Once the decision was made, she didn’t second-guess her choice, just jogged back to her truck, throwing her duffel in the passenger seat beside her. The ride to the bar didn’t take long and she knew she’d made the right decision when she pulled into the lot.

Kimmie’s little VW Beetle was parked here and almost every spot was full. Caroline would chat and unwind for an hour or two. She would face her town house when she was ready.

It had been a bad day. This would hopefully make it better.

She grabbed her purse, got out of the truck and made her way inside. The familiar smell of beer and fried food assailed her, as did the country music pouring at a perfect volume from the speakers. She smiled at Kimmie, who waved for Caroline to come join the people at her table.

Maybe being here wouldn’t make her fears back at the town house just disappear, but nothing could make this day worse.

She glanced over at the bar as she walked toward Kimmie and almost stumbled as she found her gaze trapped by the brown eyes of Zane Wales. Compelling her, drawing her in, as always. She forced herself to look away from him.

Her day definitely just got worse.

Chapter Two

Zane Wales didn’t come into the Silver Eagle very often. A lot of law enforcement guys hung out there, and generally Zane didn’t need a reminder of what he no longer did for a living.

But today had been a long, weird day and Zane had found himself here an hour ago, rather than going straight back to his house on the outskirts of Corpus Christi. Just for a beer, a bite to eat. Hoping maybe none of the detective force would even be here.

They were all here.

If he could back out without any of them seeing him, he would’ve. But Captain Harris, along with Wade Ammons and Raymond Stone, both detectives Zane had worked with when he’d been on the force, waved him over to the bar where they sat as soon as they saw him.

Zane liked all three of the men—he really did. He chatted with them for a while before Wade and Raymond saw some ladies who interested them and said their goodbyes.

“How’s the private aircraft charter business treating you?” Captain Harris asked as he took a sip of his beer.

Zane chewed a bite of the burger he’d ordered. “Today was different than most. A little crazy.”

“How so?”

“Fog was causing problems up and down the interstate, so I got called for an emergency organ donation delivery. A heart. Flew it into Houston.”

The entire flight had been tense—a very real deadline looming in front of them. Zane hadn’t been sure if the deadline was because of the patient waiting for the heart or if the heart itself was only viable for so long. The two-person organ donation team flying with him hadn’t said. They’d just told him the deadline.

Zane had gotten them there. Not much time to spare, but enough. He hoped the surgery had been successful.

“Yeah, fog was hell around here for us too this morning. Multicar pileup with a drunk driver. Half dozen other accidents that took up all our resources. Hell, even Wade and Raymond were out helping today.”

That would’ve meant Caroline had a hard day. Not that he could do anything about that. Moreover, not that she would want him to do anything about that.

“Must have been a mess if you had to pull in Wade and Raymond.”

“Sounds like your day was equally exciting. Heart transplant. Important stuff. I’ll bet you miss that on a daily basis when you’re carting around cargo or rich people from place to place.”

“Don’t start, Tim.” Zane already knew what was coming. A conversation they’d had more than once in the seventeen months and six days since Zane had quit the department.

“Son, I’ve known you since you were in elementary school. I had no hesitation at all about hiring you straight out of college or promoting you to detective, even after the trouble you got into in your younger years.”

Evidently the man wouldn’t be deterred. Zane raised his beer slightly in salute. “I know. And I appreciate it. High school was tough after Dad died.”

“You can’t tell me that running your air charter business means as much to you as chasing down criminals did.”

Captain Harris was right; Zane couldn’t say that with any sort of honesty. He enjoyed his business, loved to fly, loved working for himself, but it didn’t challenge him the way working for the force had. Didn’t challenge him nearly as much mentally or physically.

But Zane had lost his edge. Lost what had made him a good cop the day Caroline was attacked.

“I don’t have it anymore, Tim. Don’t have what it takes.”

Captain Harris scoffed. “Don’t have what, exactly? You’re still in just as good a shape. I know you have a permit for that concealed Glock you’re carrying.”

Zane didn’t ask how the older man knew that. But he was right. Zane had never stopped carrying the gun, even after he’d quit the force. He just now had a different permit for it.

“I’ll bet you have just as much practice on it and have aim just as precise as you did when you worked for me.”

Zane shrugged one shoulder as he took a sip of his beer. “Just because I can hit what I’m aiming for doesn’t mean I’m good as a law enforcement officer, Cap.”

“Just because someone you care about got hurt doesn’t mean you’re not one,” the captain shot back.

Caroline had been so much more than hurt.

“The rapist was right under my nose the whole time.” Zane pushed his plate away, no longer interested in his last bites of food. “I shook the man’s hand multiple times.”

“Dr. Trumpold fooled us all,” the captain reminded him. “Including that Omega Sector agent who came here to help us.”

Zane just shrugged. “Jon Hatton did everything he could.” But in this case, being part of an elite law enforcement agency like Omega hadn’t been enough, either.

“And,” the captain continued, “if I recall correctly, if you hadn’t followed your instincts and gone after Hatton and Sherry Mitchell, Trumpold would’ve killed them both. That it was your bullet that put a stop to him.”

Yes, Zane had stopped Trumpold. And hadn’t lost a bit of sleep when he’d died in prison a year ago.

But that still didn’t change one simple fact: Caroline Gill had opened the door to a rapist because she’d thought the knock on her door was Zane. Because Zane was supposed to be with her that night.

But he’d changed his mind at the last minute, wanting for once to have the upper hand in their tumultuous relationship. Stayed away as part of the head games the two of them played with each other all the time.

He would regret that decision for the rest of his life.

“If it had happened to someone else, you wouldn’t blame them, Zane,” Captain Harris continued. “Why are you holding yourself to a different standard?”

“It’s not about standards. It’s about my instincts. I can’t trust mine anymore. And I won’t put anybody else at risk.”

“Zane, you need to—”

Harris stopped talking as the door to the bar opened and they both—engrained law enforcement instincts kicking in—looked toward it.

Caroline.

Zane hadn’t seen her in a few months. They’d run into each other at a restaurant, a totally awkward exchange where they’d both been on dates, and their dates had both known Zane and Caroline used to be together. They’d said uncomfortable hellos and then spent the rest of the night trying not to notice each other.

Now Zane stared at her from where he sat, as always almost physically incapable of not looking at her. Taking in her long brown hair, pulled back in a braid like it so often was. The curve of her trim body filling out the jeans and fitted sweater she wore. His body responded, as it always had, wholly aware of her anytime she was around, in a completely carnal way.

What sort of pervert did that make him? Looking at Caroline—a rape survivor—with blatant sexuality all but coursing through him?

Just reinforced his decision to get out of law enforcement altogether. His instincts weren’t to be trusted.

He knew the exact second she saw him, the slight hesitation in her step, but her gaze didn’t falter. She didn’t smile at him, but then again, he didn’t expect her to.

Of course, he had to admit, even before the attack she hadn’t always smiled at him. That was how their relationship had been: fire or ice. Never anything in between.

A friend called out to Caroline and she broke eye contact with him and headed in the caller’s direction. Zane felt oddly bereft without the connection with Caroline.

He should’ve never come here in the first place.

He was about to ask for and pay the bill when Wade and Raymond came back over to sit with him and Captain Harris again. Raymond ordered them all another round before Zane could stop him.

“What happened to your lady friends?” Captain Harris asked.

“Married,” Wade and Raymond both said at the same time, crestfallen.

“I might go talk to Kimmie.” Raymond took a sip of the beer the bartender handed him.

Wade rolled his eyes. “Hasn’t she shut you down enough times already?”

“Yeah, but she looks happier now. Especially since Caroline’s here.” Both men looked over at Zane as if they’d said something wrong.

“I wasn’t going to hit on Caroline, man,” Raymond was quick to announce.

He damn well better not.

Of course, Zane had no say over who Caroline dated. Although she better not go out with a horndog like Raymond Stone.

Zane shrugged. “Caroline can go out with whoever she wants.” He forced his jaw not to lock up as he said it and carefully kept his fists unclenched. “Does she come in here a lot?”

Damn it. Zane wished he could cut off his own tongue. Why was he asking about her? But no one seemed to make anything of his interest.

“Not as much as we would like,” Wade said. “I know Kimmie, her partner, invites her all the time.”

“Kimmie’s her partner? How long?”

“Awhile now,” Captain Harris answered this time. “I talked it over with the hospital staff and we thought Kimmie would be a good professional fit for Caroline.”

“What sort of professional fit?” Maybe Kimmie had some sort of specialized training Caroline didn’t have. But she looked awfully young for that to be the case.

Harris fidgeted just a little in his seat before looking away.

“What?” Zane asked. “Did Caroline need help? This Kimmie have training or something Caroline doesn’t?”

Captain Harris shook his head. “No. Kimmie was pretty much brand-new. Anything she’s learned outside schooling, Caroline has taught her.”

That didn’t surprise Zane. Caroline was stellar at her job as a paramedic. Could spot potential problems or injuries others would miss. Kept her head in a crisis. Had a way about her that kept people calm.

“So what was it about Kimmie that was a good fit for Caroline?”

Wade and Raymond glanced over at the captain, who was looking away. Then it hit Zane.

“Oh, Kimmie’s a woman. That’s why she was a good fit for Caroline. I guess nobody could blame her for asking for a female partner.”

Now all three men refused to look at Zane.

Not all his detective skills had left him. “But she didn’t ask for a female partner, did she? You just assigned her one.”

Captain Harris pointed toward where Caroline and Kimmie sat, obviously easy and friendly with each other. “I’ve known Caro since she was born. Her parents are some of my best friends. So I did what I thought was right for her. She and Kimmie are a good team. It wasn’t the wrong choice.”

But it hadn’t been Caroline’s choice. And he would bet she hadn’t liked it, no matter how chummy she and her new partner looked now. If Zane had been there, he would definitely have spoken up, at least told Captain Harris to talk to Caroline about it.

But he hadn’t been there, had he? Zane grimaced.

“I’m glad they get along,” he muttered.

He saw Caroline glance over at them before quickly looking away and taking a casual sip of the beer the waitress had brought. She was just as aware of him as he was of her, although he doubted her awareness of him stemmed from attraction. Disgust at best, possibly even hatred.

So they both ignored each other, which everyone in the entire bar seemed completely aware of.

“I’m glad Caroline is finally going on a vacation,” Wade said, trying to break some of the obvious tension. “She deserves it.”

That was good news. “Where is she going?” Corpus Christi was a beach town and she’d always loved it. Did she still after what had happened? She used to live near the beach but had moved after the attack. Nobody in their right mind blamed her after someone had broken through her front door and viciously attacked her. Zane didn’t know if she still even liked the beach at all.

Wade looked like he didn’t want to answer. “How hard a question is it, Wade?” he asked the younger man, smiling. “A cruise? Tropical island? The mountains?”

Oh, hell, maybe she was going with another man. Maybe that was what Wade didn’t want to answer.

“Who is she going with?” Zane could feel his jaw clench but couldn’t seem to stop it.

He knew he had absolutely no right to be upset if she was going with another man somewhere. It was good—healthy—for Caroline to have other relationships. Someone important enough for her to move on with, to go on vacation with.

That was why he’d stayed out of her life for so long, right? So she would have a chance to move on, to put the past—including him and his part in her nightmare—behind her?

But damned if his hands didn’t clench into fists as he waited for Wade’s answer. As he prepared himself to hear the news that she really had moved on. That he had officially missed his chance.

“Just say it, Wade.”

“She’s not going with anybody, Zane. That’s her whole deal. She said she wants time to be alone. Get away from the frantic pace for a week.”

Zane refused to acknowledge the relief that poured through him at the knowledge Caroline hadn’t found a man she was comfortable enough to vacation with.

He turned to Wade, rolling his eyes. “Why are you jerking my chain? I don’t blame her for wanting peace and quiet. I guess that means she’s not going to visit her family in Dallas. It’s never peaceful around them.”

Wade shrugged. “Nah, she’s going hiking at Big Bend. She’ll get plenty of quiet there.”

Zane set the glass of beer that was halfway to his mouth back down on the bar. “She’s going hiking in Big Bend Ranch State Park?” One of the largest parks in Texas, covering over three hundred square miles. Breathtaking views, multiple types of terrain. A hiker’s dream.

Wade nodded. “Yeah.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah, but she’s been planning it for months. She’s got a GPS that will let the park rangers know where she is at all times and has a course all planned out. She’s super excited about it.”

Wade continued to talk about how prepared Caroline was, how thrilled, but Zane tuned him out. He stood up. “Excuse me.”

He turned and strode toward Caroline’s table with definite purpose. There was no way in hell she was going on a weeklong camping trip by herself. Obviously none of her colleagues or friends were willing to tell her how stupid an idea this was.

Zane had no such problem.

Chapter Three

Her body was aware of Zane. She’d been conscious of him the entire time they’d been here, ignoring each other while totally mindful of each other’s every move. They’d always been like that. Whether they’d been about to kill each other or fall into each other’s arms, they’d always been attuned to one another.

She was attuned to him now. Aware of how damn virile and sexy he was. Not working for the Corpus Christi Police Department hadn’t turned him soft or dimmed the edge of danger that had always surrounded him.

It drew her, just like it always had.

Damn him. Because the only thing that matched her passion for Zane Wales was her fury toward him. She’d like him to come over so she could slap him across his perfectly chiseled cheek.

And as if he could hear her and was going to call her bluff, he stood up and began walking toward her table.

“Holy cow, who is that?” Kimmie asked. “The guy that was talking to Captain Harris.”

Caroline didn’t say anything. But Kimmie’s friend Bridget, sitting across from them in the booth, spun her head to the side so she could get a look at the eye candy.

“Ohhh.” Bridget’s eyes flew to Caroline. “That’s Zane Wales. He’s Caroline’s.”

Kimmie’s face swung around to look at Caroline, shock evident in the wide circles of her eyes. “What?”

Caroline shook her head, her own eyes rolling at Bridget’s remark. “He’s not mine.”

“Are you sure about that?” Kimmie looked back at Zane. “He sure is looking at you like he’s coming for you.”

“We used to date back in the day. It’s been over for a long time.” Zane had made sure of that.

Although she had to admit, it did look like he was coming directly to their table. But it most certainly would not be to talk to her. He’d gone out of his way to avoid her for the past eighteen months.

But five seconds later he stood right in front of their table, looking ridiculously sexy in his jeans and dark blue, long-sleeved collared shirt with sleeves he’d rolled up halfway to the elbow. November in Corpus Christi wasn’t cold enough for a jacket.

He wasn’t wearing his hat—that damned white cowboy hat he’d worn all the time. He was a Texan through and through and wearing it had been as natural to him as breathing.

He’d taken it off when he’d quit the force and she hadn’t seen him in it since. Not that she’d seen him much at all.

He didn’t need the hat. He wasn’t hiding anything but thick, gorgeous hair underneath it. But Caroline missed him in it. Missed what its presence had stood for.

“Hey, Zane,” Bridget purred. Caroline resisted the urge to slap her. Barely.

“Hey, ladies.”

Caroline didn’t know why Zane was at their table, but on the off chance it was to ask Bridget or Kimmie out, she couldn’t stick around and watch.

“Excuse me.” Caroline started to stand. “I’ve got to get going, you guys.”

“Actually, I’m here to talk to you, if you don’t mind,” Zane said. He was looking directly at her now, closer than he’d been in nearly two years. She slid back into her seat, unable to draw her eyes away from his.

“Um, Bridget and I have to use the restroom anyway,” Kimmie said, standing and grabbing the other woman’s arm before she could protest.

Zane nodded at them as they left, then slid into the booth across from Caroline.

“Hi.”

Of all the things she’d been expecting tonight, Zane coming over to chat with her hadn’t been one of the possibilities. He’d withdrawn from her so completely over the past months that a conversation hadn’t even been on her radar.

“What are you doing here?”

As far as greetings, it wasn’t concise or friendly, but hell, nothing about Zane made her feel concise or friendly.

“I had some errands to run in town and thought I would grab a bite to eat.”

He deliberately wasn’t answering the question he knew she was asking. “Yeah, it looked like you were pretty close to done when I arrived.”

He nodded and eased himself a little farther back in the booth, raising one arm up along the edge and knocking his knuckles gently along the column behind him. Damn the man and his comfortably sexy pose.

And damn sexy wrists exposed by his rolled-up sleeves. How could she have such a reaction from wrists, for heaven’s sake?

“I wanted to talk to you,” he finally said.

Her eyes flew to his face at that, in time for her to see his gaze slide over to his fingers that were still tapping against the column.

So whatever it was he wanted to say, he wasn’t exactly comfortable with it.

“Spill it, Wales. Just say what you came to say.” She honestly had no idea what it was. Her heart fluttered slightly in her chest that maybe he wanted to apologize for being so distant. For pulling away from her when she’d needed him. For keeping himself away.

Not that she’d forgive him and just let it go. Too much time and pain had occurred. But at least it would be a start.

His arm came down from the back of the booth and he leaned forward, placing his weight on both elbows. She couldn’t break her gaze from his brown eyes even if she wanted to.

“Caro...”

Now she almost closed her eyes. How long had it been since she’d heard him call her by her pet name? The name he’d called her when they were alone. The name he’d called her when they were making love.

Unbidden, she felt herself leaning closer, desperate for his next words. It didn’t have to be an apology; she knew the attack had cost him almost as much as it had cost her, although in a different way. Just some sort of acknowledgment that something had to change.

He cleared his throat, then continued. “You can’t go on that hiking trip. Alone? That’s absolutely stupid.”

It took her a second to process his words. To realize what she’d hoped to hear from him wasn’t anywhere near what was coming out of his mouth.

The pain reeled through her and stole her breath. Zane wasn’t here to tell her they should be together; he was here to tell her she was stupid. She wrapped her arms around her middle, almost afraid she would fly apart if she didn’t.

She looked away from him now, not even able to look him in the eye. She was an idiot. Why would she think anything had changed?

“Did you hear me, Caroline? I really don’t think this solo hiking trip is a good idea.”

Did she hear him?

Did she hear him?

Fury crashed over her like a tidal wave, obviating the pain. It was all she could do to stay in her seat.

“Do I hear you, Zane?”

He had the good grace to look alarmed at her quiet, even tone. At least he still knew her well enough to know when she was about to blow a gasket.

“Caro...”

“Oh, no, you don’t. Don’t you dare call me that.” The anger felt good, washed away the slicing pain of being wrong about him again. “You don’t get to call me anything with any affection ever again.”

Her words hurt him, she could tell, before he shut down all trace of emotion on his features. Good. She was glad she had hurt him. Glad she still could.

“Fine,” he said. “I don’t have to call you any friendly name to tell you that going hiking by yourself in the middle of the wilderness is just plain stupid.”

Caroline looked over at the waitress who was walking by. “I need the check, please.”

“I need mine too,” Zane muttered.

The woman looked back and forth between them, a little concerned, before nodding. “Sure. I’ll be right back.”

“Where I choose to take my vacation is none of your concern, Zane.”

“It is when no one is willing to tell you how risky and stupid it is.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Really? How much do you know about my plans, exactly?”

“I know you’re going hiking alone in Big Bend. That’s enough.”

Caroline clenched her fists by her legs and forced herself to breathe in through her mouth and out through her nose. She would not get in a screaming match with Zane Wales in the middle of a bar.

Unable to look at him without giving him the full force of her opinion—loudly—she surveyed the bar. Just about everyone was watching them, waiting for the fireworks. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d provided a colorful show. But it had been a long time.

“You don’t know anything about my plans, Wales. You don’t know anything about my life. Remember?”

“You say that like me getting out of your life wasn’t the best thing for you.”

She just stared at him. “Seriously?”

“And regardless, this plan of yours—” he said the phrase with such derision her eyes narrowed and she felt her temper rising to a boiling point “—is ridiculous. You can’t do it.”

Oh. No. He. Didn’t.

The waitress brought them both their checks and Caroline counted it one of her greatest accomplishments that she didn’t say anything at all. She just got out a twenty-dollar bill, threw it down on the table and stood, not caring that she was tipping the waitress almost as much as the bill itself.

She felt every eye on her as she turned and walked out the door. She didn’t care and definitely wasn’t afraid to go back to her house now. She was too damn pissed.

She made it to her truck before she heard him.

“You can’t seriously be going on this trip.”

She didn’t turn around. “You know what, Zane? You don’t know anything about it.”

“I know it’s dangerous.”

Now that they didn’t have an audience, she didn’t even try to keep her volume in check. “No, you’re making a snap judgment that it’s dangerous because you don’t know all the facts.”

“Then tell me all the facts.”

Now she turned around. “I’m not stupid. And believe me, I have no desire to put myself at risk. I have taken precautions to make myself as safe as possible.”

What was more, she needed this. Had talked extensively to Grace Parker about this time by herself. The psychiatrist had agreed that, with the right precautions for her personal safety, it was a good idea.

She would’ve told Zane all of this already if he’d been around. If he’d been a part of her life. But he hadn’t been. So by damn, he did not get to have a say in her decisions.

“You know what? Just forget it.” She spun back toward her truck.

“Hey, I’m not done talking to you.”

“I don’t give a damn if you’re done with me or not. Have you thought of that? Maybe I’m done with you this time.”

He strode directly to her. “What do you mean, this time?”

His nearness didn’t bother her. Zane’s nearness had never bothered her. This entire shouting match—so much like old times—was so freeing in a lot of ways.

“You bailed on me eighteen months ago, Zane. You don’t get to have a say in anything I do anymore.”

His volume rose with hers. “I didn’t bail on you. I knew me being around you would be a constant reminder of the worst day of your entire life. So I tried to do the noble thing and get out of your way.”

“Noble?” She all but spat the word, poking him in the chest. “You were too much of a coward to fight for us, so you ran.”

“This discussion is not about the last year and a half. This discussion is about your asinine plan to go hiking for a week by yourself.”

“Why do you think you get to have a say in what I do, Zane?”

She got right up in his face and shouted the words.

God, it felt so good to yell. To have someone yell back. To not have someone treat her with kid gloves like she was going to break any minute.

“You don’t, Zane,” she continued, poking him in the chest with her finger again as she said it.

His eyes flared as he wrapped his hand around her finger against his chest.

And then, before either of them realized what was happening, he yanked her to him and kissed her.

Caroline had been kissed since the rape. She’d even had sex with a couple guys since. But they hadn’t been Zane. Hadn’t been who, deep inside, she truly wanted.

And it sure as hell hadn’t been a kiss like this.

Zane’s lips were like coming home. His arms banded around her waist and hers slid up his chest and around his neck.

That hair. Thick and brown. She thought of how many times she’d flicked off his hat and ran her fingers all the way through it as he kissed her. Exactly like she was doing now.

He devoured her mouth and she couldn’t get enough of it, pulling him closer with fists full of his hair, moaning as his fingers bit into her hips in his urgency to get her closer.

He backed her up until she was against her truck, then grabbed her by the hips and hoisted her up to the engine’s hood. Now she could wrap both her arms and her legs around him.

Passion simmered through her blood as his lips nipped down her jaw to her neck. Not gentle, not timid. Just Zane. Fierce and passionate, the way lovemaking had always been for them. She moaned as one of his hands came up and fisted into her hair, holding her so he had better access to what he wanted.

Her.

And she couldn’t get enough of it.

Dimly she was aware that they were still in the parking lot of the Silver Eagle. That any minute her colleagues, law enforcement officers who generally tended to frown on sex in public places, were going to make their way out.

This needed to be taken back to her place. Or his. Or a hotel room.

Stat.

“Zane, we’ve got to stop.”

She sighed at another one of his nipping kisses, at the feel of him pulling her closer. She’d missed this so much.

But damn it, she didn’t want to get arrested.

“Zane, stop.”

She gripped some of his hair and gave it a tug.

She could tell the exact moment he came back to his senses. His hands dropped from her hair and he all but jumped back from her body.

But it wasn’t until she saw his face that she understood. He was ashen. Distraught.

“Zane—” She reached for him, but he moved farther back.

“Oh, my God. Caroline, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me, I—”

She jumped down from the hood of her truck, desperate to wipe the distressed look off his face. Zane hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d done everything right and she wanted more.

But at that moment Wade yelled from the open door of the bar. “Hey, Captain sent me out here to make sure the two of you hadn’t killed each other.”

Caroline rolled her eyes and turned toward Wade, waving her arm at him over the hood of her truck. “We’re fine. Leave us alone and you guys mind your own business.”

Wade’s chuckle rang out in the still night air as he went back inside.

“So I wasn’t saying, ‘No, let’s stop. I don’t want to do this.’ I was saying, ‘Let’s move this party someplace a little more...’” She turned back to Zane, her biggest smile in place.

But Zane was gone. She heard his truck start on the other side of the parking lot before his tires squealed as he sped onto the street.

Chapter Four

Zane woke from the nightmare, heart pounding, sweat covering his entire body despite the cool air coming through the screened windows of his bedroom.

He’d dreamed about the night Caroline had been attacked by Paul Trumpold a year and a half ago. It had been a while since he’d dreamed about it. Although it was no surprise that he’d had it again after what had happened in the parking lot of the Silver Eagle two nights ago.

He probably would’ve had the dream last night if he’d slept a wink.

The dream—really more of a memory—always started the same way: Zane sitting at his desk at the CCPD headquarters, even though it was late at night, doing some work, avoiding doing what he really wanted to do, which was accept Caroline’s invitation to go over to her house when he got off work. He hadn’t wanted to give her the upper hand in their relationship. Wanted to keep her a little off balance like she so often kept him. Wanted to let her know, for once, what it felt like to wonder what would happen next. She did it to him without even thinking. He wanted her to know—wanted himself to know—that he could do it to her.

It all seemed so ridiculous now.

The uniformed cop—a young kid, Zane couldn’t even remember his name—who’d wanted to give Zane a heads-up before he got the official call had run up to Zane’s desk, knowing Zane was lead detective in the case. The cop had been out of breath when he told Zane the serial rapist had struck again.

Zane always remembered that moment in his dream and in his life. Because that had been the last time he’d ever been okay. The last time his world had been whole.

He’d been pissed that the rapist had struck again before they could catch him, but his world had still had a foundation.

He could never stop the next moment in his dream any more than he could in real life: when the cop gave him the address of the rapist’s latest victim.

Caroline’s address.

He’d written down the first two numbers as the cop had said it out loud before he’d realized where it was, then had dropped everything and run as fast as he could to his car, driving way past the limitations of safety to get to Caroline’s house.

Praying the entire time that there had been some mistake. That the address was wrong. That the kid cop, in all his excitement to be helpful, had gotten the numbers wrong or something.

The numbers hadn’t been wrong.

The ambulance at Caroline’s house had thrown him. He’d seen an ambulance there before, one Caroline had driven. Hell, she’d even driven an ambulance to his house to meet him for a quickie once.

But she hadn’t driven this one. This time the ambulance had been for her.

The dream sometimes changed from there. He always had to cross her yard to get to the door of her house. Sometimes as he ran across the yard in his dream the ground swallowed him like quicksand, slowing him from reaching the door. Sometimes there were thousands of people all over the yard and he couldn’t get through no matter how hard he tried.

Sometimes he ran as fast as he could, but the door kept getting farther and farther away.

But no matter what happened, the rapist—Dr. Trumpold—always just stood there laughing at Zane. And when Zane would finally fight his way to the door, the man would turn and whisper, “You know why she opened the door for me? Because she thought it was you knocking. Thanks for the help.” Then he would disappear.

And in his place would be Caroline. Lying on the floor of her own foyer, beaten until she was unconscious. Clothes ripped off her small body. Being treated by her own EMT colleagues, handling her with care even though she was long past feeling any pain at that point.

Zane had just stared, watching his entire world lying broken at his feet. He hadn’t been able to move, hadn’t been able to say a thing, even if there had been something that could’ve been said or done.

In real life Zane had ridden in the ambulance with Caroline, had stayed by her side in the hospital until she’d finally woken up forty-eight hours later and helped them catch the rapist.

But in his dream he was always stuck there in the doorway of her house, looking down at Caroline’s broken, battered body. Knowing she would never be okay again, that they would never be okay again.

And in the worst of the nightmares she would open her eyes from where she lay on the floor—although he knew that would’ve been impossible, since the blows from the rapist had caused both her eyes to be swollen completely shut—and echo her rapist’s earlier comment, in an oddly conversational voice.

Where were you, Zane? I thought it was you knocking at the door.

And he would never have an answer.

He got out of bed now, knowing he wouldn’t get any more sleep. Hell, he’d be lucky if he got any sleep any night this week after what had happened in the parking lot of the Silver Eagle.

He’d flown at least one flight each of the last fifteen days straight, so he should be glad he had nothing scheduled for today, but now he wished he could get back up in the air. After the nightmare, today wasn’t a good day to be grounded. Zane wanted to be up in his Cessna.

Flying had been the only thing that had come even a little close to filling the hole in his life since he left the department. Like Captain Harris suggested, flying wasn’t enough to completely eliminate the void, but it at least did something.

Zane wished he had another organ donor trip. That had been exciting. The deadline, the pressure, knowing someone was counting on you to get the job done.

That had been what his life had been like every day when he’d been a detective on the force.

Life when he’d had Caroline in it.

That wasn’t any easier to think about than not being on the force any longer. Especially after what had happened in the Silver Eagle parking lot.

What in heaven’s name had come over him? How could he have possibly treated Caroline like that?

They’d been fighting just like old times. Yelling at each other.

Then she’d poked him in the chest with that tiny finger of hers, just like she had so many times in the past. And in the past it had almost always ended with them on top of each other.

He had moved out of muscle memory more than anything else. Covered her finger with his hand like he had so many times before, moving in for a kiss.

Basic instinct, a primal need for Caroline, had taken over from there. He’d been so caught up in the kiss, knew she had been too. Had felt her hands in his hair, felt her legs pull him closer when he’d set her up on the hood of her truck. It had been so long; they’d been desperate for each other.

But then she’d told him to stop and his first instinct, the only one he’d been able to hear at all, had been to keep kissing her. Keep kissing that throat. That neck. Those lips.

Then when she should’ve slapped him, she’d simply tugged at his hair and told him to stop again.

And finally reason had returned.

He scrubbed a hand over his face now, despair tugging at him. He’d been holding her in place, unwilling to let her go.

Caroline, a rape victim.

He had to give her credit; she hadn’t seemed panicked. She hadn’t cried or punched him or run screaming back into the Silver Eagle. When he’d jumped back, she’d started to say something to him.

He could think of a number of things she’d had a right to say to him. And none of them were pretty. So when Wade had yelled whatever he had to say—Zane totally hadn’t been listening—he’d gotten away from Caroline.

Because once again, as had been true for the past eighteen months, the greatest thing Zane could do for Caroline was to keep away from her. He’d made as quick an exit as he could manage.

She’d be in the middle of Big Bend State Park now, on her hike. He still didn’t like it. But she’d been right in one argument: what say did he have in her life?

None. Which was the best possible thing for her.

But the thought of her hiking alone still stuck in his craw. Maybe if he had kept his temper, used reason to discuss it with Caroline, he could’ve changed her mind.

But who was he kidding? Reason had never had anything to do with their relationship. Passion, fighting, yelling, heat. All those had. But never reason.

She’d driven him crazy from the moment they’d met in high school when her family relocated from Dallas. In both the best and worst of ways.

God, how he’d missed her the last year and a half. Missed the woman who had always stood toe-to-toe with him and refused to back down.

But now all he could picture was her broken body lying in the hospital bed eighteen months ago. Crying when she didn’t know he could see her.

She’d never be able to go toe-to-toe with anyone again.

Not that Zane hadn’t been willing to change everything about their relationship to fit her needs. Over those first few months, he’d tried. Went out of his way to be gentle, easy, light with Caroline. It had been weird, so different than what had always transpired between them. But for Caroline he’d been willing to do it. To do anything.

But it had all just seemed to make her upset. Sad, even.

Every time he’d let her win an argument, every time she’d poked him in the chest with that little finger and he’d just pulled her in for a hug, it had just made her more sad.

Finally, Zane realized that being around him at all made her sad. So he’d given her the only thing he’d had left to give: his absence. He’d quit the department, moved to the outskirts of town, made it so they never ran into each other.

And it had absolutely gutted him. His entire life became empty.

But for his Caro he’d been willing to pay that price.

And after his behavior two nights ago, obviously he needed to continue keeping himself away from her. The thought that he could’ve hurt her, scared her, brought back memories of her attack ripped a hole in him.

He started the day doing paperwork—owning your own charter flight company was perhaps the only business in the world that created more paperwork than law enforcement—but soon found he needed the release of some sort of physical activity. He decided yard work was in order. If his mother came by and saw the bushes and grass looking the way they did now, he would never hear the end of it.

And at least the hard, physical work of cutting and trimming allowed him to force the thoughts of kissing a stunning brunette—and how very good it had been before turning so bad—to the back of his mind.

He was going to have to see her in a couple of weeks from now for Jon Hatton and Sherry Mitchell’s wedding in Colorado, since Caroline was one of Sherry’s best friends and in the wedding. But Zane would be damn sure to keep his distance.

He’d kept his distance for nearly two years. He’d keep on doing it now.

When his phone rang, Zane wiped the sweat from his head before removing his glove and grabbing the device. Speak of the devil; it was Jon Hatton.

Zane hit the receive button. “Hey, Jon, I was just thinking about you.”

There was a short pause. “Well, I hope you weren’t in the shower, because that would be weird.”

Zane laughed. “No, just tackling some yard work that has been a particular pain in the ass.”

Zane had met the Omega Sector agent here in Corpus Christi when the local police had needed help with the serial rapist case. He and Jon had solved the case, but too late for Caroline.

Jon had tried multiple times to get Zane back into law enforcement since Zane had quit, even talking to him about working for Omega Sector, but Zane hadn’t budged. Although he had helped Jon with a couple of cases that had brought the man back to Texas.

“If you’re calling to get me to help you pick out china patterns, I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline.”

“As scary as that thought is, no, I’m not calling with anything about the wedding. We’ve got a problem, Zane.”

Zane knew the other man well enough to know that if Jon was calling him with “a problem” it was something serious.

“What’s going on?”

“Can you get to your email right now?” Jon asked.

“Let me go inside.” Zane grabbed the nearest dish towel from the kitchen and wiped as much sweat and dirt off his face and arms as he could before heading into his office.

“All right, I’m at my computer.”

“I’m sending a picture of a Damien Freihof.”

“I’ve never heard of him.”

“He went to jail five years ago because he was about to blow up a bank full of people in Phoenix.”

“Okay.” Zane had no idea what this had to do with him.

“He escaped last year. Nearly killed Brandon Han and his fiancée, Andrea.”

Zane knew Brandon; the man had helped figure out who the rapist was. But he didn’t know about this Freihof guy or that he almost killed Brandon.

“That time—” it would’ve been right after Caroline’s rape “—it’s pretty fuzzy for me, Jon.”

“Sure, man, I understand and don’t expect you to know any of this.”

“Okay.”

“Freihof went to ground after he attacked Brandon and Andrea. He was injured in his own explosion. He resurfaced last week.”

Zane still had no idea what this had to do with him. “Okay.”

“I just sent you a picture of him.”

Zane opened his email. “Okay, I got it.” He studied the mug shot of Damien Freihof from five years ago. “I don’t recognize him at all.”

“I’m sending you another picture.”

The second picture was a totally different man, roughly the same height and build but different jaw, eyes, hair.

“Okay, who’s that?”

“That is also Damien Freihof.”

“Damn.” Zane whistled through his teeth. “He’s good.”

“Yeah, he is.” Jon’s tone held grudging respect. “Good enough to beat all our facial scanning software and to avoid the statewide warrant for his arrest.”

“Do you think he’s moved on to Texas?” If he had, it wasn’t like Zane could do anything about it.

“Two days ago, Freihof masterminded a pretty elaborate plan. A bomb that killed one of our junior agents and put another agent in a coma. Looks like Freihof wants to make Omega Sector pay for putting him in prison. Plus, he nearly killed a mother and her toddler daughter in the process.”

Zane’s expletive wasn’t pretty. “Sounds like this bastard doesn’t care about collateral damage.”

“Exactly. He wants as much collateral damage as possible. We’ve already been given that message. He’s coming after people with ties to Omega. He’s trying to hurt civilians we care about in order to split Omega’s focus. I’m sending you one more picture.”

The picture Zane received was of some sort of wall with a staggering amount of information on it: newspaper clippings, photos, drawings, police reports, Google search printouts, fingerprints.

“What the hell is that?” Zane couldn’t make any sense of it at all.

“That’s the wall of clues Freihof left for us. A very complicated puzzle that points out Freihof’s next intended victims.”

“How the hell were you able to make any sense of it?”

“It took us a long time, believe me.” Jon paused for a second. “It looks like you and Caroline are on his intended victims’ list, Zane.”

“What?”

“There were very specific clues referring to you by name on the wall of clues. We think he might be coming after you soon, if he’s not there already.”

Zane’s expletive this time was even uglier. “Caroline’s off on her own.”

“What?”

“She’s on some damfool hiking trip in Big Bend State Park. Alone. Do you think this Freihof character might be aware of this?”

“Honestly, Jon, the man is a genius. I wouldn’t put anything past him.”

“Thanks for the heads-up, Jon. I’ve got to go. I’ll keep you posted.” Zane disconnected the call and was running for his bedroom, grabbing his go-bag. He would call Captain Harris on the way to the airport and get him to contact the park rangers at Big Bend and find out Caroline’s exact GPS location.

He would file his flight plan and be in the air in less than an hour. He’d be with Caroline in under two. A madman genius had gotten to her once. There was no way in hell he was letting another.

So much for keeping his distance.

Chapter Five

Over the last few months, Caroline had been learning to trust her instincts again. Her instincts had told her a few months ago that this trip to Big Bend would be a healing one for her.

Now, nearing the end of day two, all alone with no one around for miles, she could honestly say she was damn happy she had followed her instincts.

She hadn’t done it recklessly or without proper thought. She had planned. She’d considered. And finally, she’d just decided to take the chance.

Sort of like how she’d learned to do everything else in her life. She knew that bad things could still happen; people intent on harming others would always be around. Caroline did her best to prepare herself never to be a victim again, including multiple self-defense classes and hours of strengthening her body in the gym. She’d trained her mind to be more aware of what was going on around her so things didn’t catch her off guard.

But ultimately after all the preparations, she had to choose to just do it. To just do that thing that was a little bit risky.

To trust that she could handle it.

It wasn’t easy. And ironically, if Zane hadn’t come along at the Silver Eagle a couple of nights ago and told her she shouldn’t do it, Caroline might have chickened out. But that had been the final push she needed.

“So suck it, Zane Wales!” she yelled at the top of her voice, since no one could hear her anyway.

She loved being out here in the open. Loved that there was a one hundred percent guarantee that no one would knock on her door—the one sound that threw her into a panic every time she heard it.

Why? Because there were no doors out here. Caroline grinned.

The door-knocking thing was something she and Dr. Parker had been working through. Grace warned her that it may always be a trigger, and if so, Caroline would have to learn to live with it.

She was proud of the progress she’d made. Proud of how far she’d come. Proud of her certainty that no man, no matter how big or strong, would ever be able to get the drop on her again. She may not win a fight, but she knew she wouldn’t be the only person hurt at the end of it.

She just wished she could convince everyone else of that. Of her growth. She wished she could get people to treat her the way they had before the attack.

As much as she liked Kimmie as her partner, Caroline would’ve had no problem working with a man day after day. But Chief Harris—one of her parents’ best friends and someone she’d known her whole life—hadn’t asked her. He’d had clout with the Emergency Medical Service director and had just done what he thought was best.

Her parents and brother still couldn’t talk about what happened to her. They had wanted to hire a full-time bodyguard for her. When she’d brought up fairly basic questions—with what money? Why would she need a bodyguard when her rapist had died in prison?—they hadn’t had a good answer. So no bodyguard. But they still didn’t treat her the way they had before the attack. Everything they said to her or did around her now was always tinted with some sort of combination of protectiveness, worry and pity, depending on the activity.

She hadn’t told them about this trip at all. It just would’ve put them over the edge. She’d sworn Captain Harris—Uncle Tim—to secrecy too.

But she missed Zane most of all. She missed her friend, her lover, the person she spent hours arguing with about every topic under the sun. Of all the things she’d lost in the attack, the one she regretted the most was Zane.

Like everyone else, he hadn’t known how to deal with what had been done to her. Hadn’t known how to treat her. It had been even worse for Zane because he’d been the lead detective on the case and hadn’t realized who the rapist was.

But hell, Caroline had worked with Dr. Trumpold for months and hadn’t known it was him. They’d all been duped.

She’d needed gentleness for the first few months as her body had healed from the attack. But then she’d needed her life to get back to normal. Nobody seemed to understand that. Zane definitely hadn’t understood it.

Their relationship had always been so tumultuous, almost emotionally violent. It was just how both of them were wired: live hard, fight hard, love hard. But when Caroline had been ready to get back to the fighting and the yelling and, yes, the lovemaking, Zane had already programmed himself to be something else. Something she didn’t recognize. Didn’t want.

And he’d quit the force. She’d been unable to fathom that. When she’d gone to his house, ready to fight him about it—honestly looking forward to the screaming match and whatever would come after it—he’d refused to engage. At all.

He’d offered iced tea and told her they should maybe talk later when they were both calm.

She could fully admit that she hadn’t handled the situation well. That she’d told him she didn’t want to be around him like that. That she didn’t even recognize him. Didn’t want to recognize him. To stay away from her until he could figure out who they were.

She didn’t think he’d take it to mean she didn’t want to ever be around him at all. But that had been the last time they’d been close to each other. Until a couple of days ago at the Silver Eagle.

She’d been such a fool thinking he’d seen the light, first when he came to talk to her and then when he’d kissed her. Zane Wales wasn’t ever going to see the light when it came to her. So she wasn’t going to pine for him any longer.

Instead, she was going to celebrate being out here by herself. Celebrate the development of another coping strategy. Celebrate being alive.

Trumpold had been escalating, and based on what Sherry and Jon had told her, he’d definitely planned to move on to killing.

Caroline knew, deep in her bones, she was lucky to be alive. That Trumpold hadn’t been able to decide whether to kill her or not.

She was alive. She looked around at the stark landscape of the Big Bend. She loved it here. Loved the open, loved the vast skies, loved being alone in the late-afternoon sun.

She turned, annoyed at the sound of a plane flying relatively low overhead. A small plane, probably a flyby for tourists. Caroline just went back to gathering what she needed to build a small fire tonight for coffee and to warm up some of the food she’d hiked in with her. She also needed to check in with the park rangers. She did that every eight to twelve hours out of courtesy for her colleagues back in Corpus Christi. They’d get the report too and not worry.

She was tempted to tell them all to just bug off and leave her alone, but she couldn’t. These were people who loved her. She wished they wouldn’t smother her with that love, but she couldn’t fault them for it.

The plane came back by again and Caroline rolled her eyes. Big Bend was beautiful, but there wasn’t enough to see for a double flyby. Then she realized the plane was landing not even half a mile from where she was camped.

Caroline grabbed her radio. She believed strongly in her independence, but she believed more strongly in not being stupid.

“Ranger station, this is Caroline Gill.” She gave them her GPS coordinates. “I’ve just heard a plane land about a half mile south of me. Small aircraft.”

“Yeah, we received a call from a Captain Timothy Harris in Corpus Christi.”

“Captain Harris, yeah, I know him. Is there some sort of emergency?” She couldn’t think of any reason Captain Harris would be on his way or have someone on their way if it wasn’t an emergency.

“No, no emergency. He was clear about that. He was letting us know that a detective from his precinct was coming in via small aircraft. He said you wouldn’t mind. Or that you probably would, but you’d get over it.”

Damn it, Captain Harris was sending a babysitter. She wondered if her parents had gotten word of this trip. She wouldn’t put it past them to browbeat Uncle Tim into sending someone to watch over her.

Well, whoever it was, she was sending them right back home.

She continued organizing her little camp, refusing to let anything get in the way of the peace she had found over the past two days. One of the things she’d worked very hard on with Dr. Parker was accepting what she had control over and what she didn’t. Certain circumstances she had no regulation over. But how she responded to them was up to her.

She left her little camp and made her way the few hundred yards to the jagged edge of one of the cliffs Big Bend was known for with a stunning view of the Rio Grande river. She could feel her babysitter’s eyes on her as he or she got off the plane and walked toward her, but she didn’t pay any attention. Instead, she continued to stare out at the river as the sun began to dip in the sky.

Finally, she knew she couldn’t avoid it any longer and turned back around.

And found Zane standing about twenty yards behind her. She froze.

“What are you doing here?” she stammered. Captain Harris had sent Zane to babysit her?

And what’s more, Zane had actually agreed?

“I didn’t mean to startle you. The ranger station was supposed to let you know I was coming.” He took a few steps toward her.

“They did. I mean, they said Harris had called and told them someone was coming out here and to let me know. But I didn’t know it would be you. What are you doing here?” she couldn’t help but ask again.

“Right now? Enjoying the beautiful view.”

Caroline turned back out toward the river. “Yeah, amazing, isn’t it? The sun has set on the river this way for thousands and thousands of years. Makes you feel part of something much bigger than yourself.”

Zane didn’t say anything, simply absorbed. They stood in silence watching the sun drop farther, casting a purple hue throughout the entire area. Caroline just took it in with him. She had to admit, there was no one else in the world she’d rather share this moment with than Zane. She closed her eyes and felt the warmth of the setting sun on her face.

When she opened them again, she found him studying her.

“What?”

“Nothing. You look good. Peaceful, capable. Being here, at this place, obviously agrees with you. I was wrong to tell you not to come.”

“You got that straight. I still don’t know why you’re here.”

“I needed to make sure you were all right.”

He stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets just like he always did when he wasn’t telling the full truth. She’d never told him she knew that tell because she’d never wanted to give up the upper hand.

“You know I’ve been checking in with the rangers every few hours. You could’ve just asked them. I’m sure some of the CCPD have, including Captain Harris.”

He shrugged. “I needed to see it with my own eyes.”

He still wasn’t telling her everything, but she trusted him enough to know that if there was some true emergency he would’ve already hustled her off to the plane and gotten her out of here.

A thought struck her. “My parents didn’t call you and make you come, did they?”

He chuckled. “No. I just wanted to see you for myself.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You flew a long way just to look at me, Wales. You might want to consider taking a picture. It would be a lot cheaper.”

“A picture of you, here, in this light couldn’t possibly do this moment justice.”

Damn it if the man didn’t still know how to make her insides go gooey.

“Are you here to try to get me to leave?”

Zane looked around, taking in the vastness surrounding them. “No. I don’t think there’s any place else you ought to be than here right now. Like I said, it obviously agrees with you.”

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