Everything seemed to be in order, except for the woman asleep in his cabin.

Reece took in everything about the stranger – the wet clothes clinging to her body, the tousled, short blonde hair and a beautiful face that even in sleep was in obvious turmoil. He felt a definite tug on his reality, a strange combination of lust and concern.

Should he wake her and demand to know what she was doing in his cabin? He spotted her purse on the end table. As he reached for it she stirred, then jerked to attention.

Her eyes went wide with fright as her gaze landed on him.

Her voice was anything but firm as she eased her way out of the chair. She moved behind it in an obvious attempt to put a barricade between them. “Who…who are you?”

“Well, Goldilocks…this is my cabin, and I want to know why you’ve been sleeping in my bed.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Although award-winning author Shawna Delacorte has lived most of her life in Los Angeles and has a background working in television production, she is currently living in Wichita, Kansas. Among her writing accomplishments she is honoured to include her placement on the bestseller list. In addition to writing full-time, she teaches a fiction-writing class in the Division of Continuing Education at Wichita State University. Shawna enjoys hearing from her readers and can be reached at 6505 E Central, Box 300, Wichita, KS 67206, USA.

Her Hero and Protector

SHAWNA DELACORTE

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Brandi Doyle – Why would someone stalk this quiet, unassuming woman? And worse yet, why would someone abduct her?

Reece Covington – He’s hiding away from society in his mountain cabin after serving a prison term for something he didn’t do. After his last experience, will he allow himself to be drawn in by another woman who claims to need his help?

Lt Frank James – Good cop gone bad or simply overzealous in his duties?

Lyle Hanover – Assistant DA who prosecuted Reece based on Lt James’ testimony. Should he have looked at the case a little closer?

Joe Hodges – Is this FBI agent the friend he pretends to be, or does he have an agenda of his own?

Chapter One

Brandi Doyle glanced back over her shoulder. Panic surged through her body, a panic driven by fear. The rain pelted against her face, stinging her skin. Had she managed to elude her pursuer? The stalker everyone kept telling her didn’t exist? The person who was only a figment of her imagination?

The very real man who just a few hours ago had abducted her?

She dug her shoes into the slippery mud as she fought to maintain her footing in the drenching downpour. Her heart pounded. Her chest heaved with each gulp of air she sucked into her lungs, but she didn’t dare slow down.

It seemed as if it had been hours since she’d managed to escape from her abductor’s car when he’d stopped for gas at the small service station on the mountain road—hours that she had been running through the woods. But a quick glance at her watch told her it had only been thirty minutes. Intellectually, she knew the rain would obscure any trace of her tracks, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that her abductor was only a few feet behind her and closing in.

She headed in the direction where she thought the lake and some cabins were, a place where she might be able to get some help. It was an area where she had done a lot of photography. If only she could be sure of her exact location. If only she hadn’t been blindfolded. A shiver rippled through her body, part anxiety and part chill. She was soaked to the skin without even a jacket to provide a modicum of warmth.

It would be dark soon and she needed to find some sort of shelter. She forced herself onward, ignoring the ache in her legs. She had to put as much distance as she could between her and her abductor—and as quickly as possible.

Another hundred feet she came to a fire road. She ran parallel to the road, staying in the woods, hidden from view. Shrubbery attacked her legs and arms. Bushes scratched her face and hands, but she knew she didn’t dare venture out into the open—she didn’t dare expose herself to her abductor.

Then she spotted it through the trees—a cabin at the edge of the fire road. A little tremor of excitement tried to take hold. It was the off season, too early for summer vacationers. There was a good chance the cabin would be vacant. It would provide her shelter from the storm, a means of hiding from her pursuer and a place to gather her thoughts and make a plan of action.

The carport was empty—a good sign. She knocked on the door and received no response. She tried the door but found it locked. She circled the cabin, checking the windows until she found an unlocked one that opened into the kitchen. Once inside, she breathed a sigh of relief. She was out of the wind and rain and no longer visible to anyone looking for her.

Brandi took a quick look around, making sure the cabin was empty. It was—for the moment. The rumpled sheets and blanket on the unmade bed in the bedroom left her with an uneasy feeling. She paused in the bathroom long enough to towel-dry her dripping wet hair. She studied her face in the mirror. The scratches weren’t too bad, but they needed to be cleaned. She washed her face, then found some antiseptic in a bathroom cupboard.

She returned to the kitchen. The refrigerator was mostly empty—nothing perishable, such as fresh meat, vegetables or even a quart of orange juice. Hopefully the owner only used the cabin on weekends in spite of the evidence of the unmade bed. The shelves contained canned goods. She opened a can of soup. It wasn’t much, but it eased her hunger pangs.

Her guilt, however, wasn’t as easily appeased. She had broken into someone’s cabin and stolen food. Not a very admirable thing to do, even though it had been necessary. Her fears quickly overruled her guilt.

She made a quick trip through the cabin again, looking out each of the windows. She satisfied herself that she had not been followed, that there wasn’t anyone lurking outside. She also noticed that there wasn’t a phone. She slumped into a large, comfortable chair. For the first time in several hours she drew in an easy breath. She pulled the strap from across her chest and over her head, then set the small, attached purse on the end table. She had been wearing the purse when her abductor had grabbed her, and she had managed to hang on to it—an almost involuntary action of clinging to something she owned.

She needed to think, to make sense of what had happened, to figure out what to do next. Her eyelids grew heavy. She could not fight off the exhaustion, as much emotional as it was physical. A moment later darkness descended around her, and she slipped into an uneasy sleep.

REECE COVINGTON PULLED HIS four-wheel-drive SUV off the fire road, parking in the carport attached to his cabin. He had intended to enclose the carport, making it a garage and cutting a door from the garage directly into the cabin. Stormy days like today made him wish he had finished the project.

He dashed through the rain to the covered front porch while juggling a sack of groceries. He had been hiding out in his cabin in the Cascade Mountains for three months, ever since his release from prison. Two years of his life taken away from him for something he didn’t do. Two years spent building up resentment toward the woman who had set him up and the rogue cop who had framed him.

He unlocked the door and stepped inside, then came to an abrupt halt. His heart jumped a beat and his senses went on full alert as his experienced gaze made a quick yet expert sweep of the room. Everything seemed to be in order, everything where it belonged.

Everything except for the woman asleep in the chair.

He moved quietly to the kitchen, searching for anything that looked out of place. He spotted the window where she had entered. He noted the empty soup can. He set the bag of groceries in the refrigerator, then moved stealthily toward the bedroom. He did not want to wake the intruder nor did he want to alert anyone else who might be with her.

He made a quick search of the bedroom. It was exactly the way he left it. So was the bathroom, except for the wet washcloth, the towel and the bottle of antiseptic on the counter.

He returned to the living room. He took in everything about the stranger—the wet clothes clinging to her body, her muddy shoes, the tousled, short blond hair and the beautiful face with the numerous scratches. A face that even in sleep was covered in turmoil. He felt a definite tug on his reality, a strange combination of lust and concern. He steeled himself against the unwanted and unexpected feelings—both of them.

He had been down that path before with a beautiful stranger who had claimed to need his help. It had ended up costing him two years of his life and his career. And before that there was his travesty of an engagement to a woman who had jilted him at the altar and gone back to her former boyfriend.

Yes, indeed. It would be a cold day in hell before he made the mistake of being suckered in by another beautiful woman, no matter how vulnerable she appeared to be or how much she professed to need his help.

He continued to stare at the stranger as he turned the situation over in his mind. She didn’t seem to pose an immediate threat to him. Should he wake her and demand to know what she was doing in his cabin or wait until she woke on her own? He spotted her purse on the end table. As he reached for it she stirred, opened her eyes, then jerked to attention.

Her eyes went wide with fright as her gaze landed on him.

Her voice was anything but firm as she eased her way out of the chair. She moved behind it in an obvious attempt to put a barricade between them. “Who…who are you? What are you doing here?”

His reply was succinct, his voice carrying all the authority of someone in charge. “Well, Goldilocks…I’m Papa Bear and this is my cabin. I want to know why you’ve been eating my soup and sleeping in my chair.” He raked his gaze slowly over the obviously frightened woman, but was totally unprepared for her next move.

She bolted for the door of the cabin and ran blindly out into the rain, fear propelling her every step. Reece followed close on her heels, catching up with her about ten feet from the porch. He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. She struggled, twisting and turning in an attempt to get loose. His tight hold thwarted her attempts to free herself from his control.

“Lady…calm down. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m bigger than you are. I’m stronger than you. I don’t like being out here in the mud and rain. Stop struggling because whether you like it or not, we’re going back inside. You’re going to tell me who you are and why you broke into my cabin.”

She pounded her fists against his back. “You put me down this second.” Even to her own ears her demands sounded weak and ineffectual. Her mind raced, darting frantically from one fear to another as he carried her inside the cabin. Panic continued to rampage through her body, totally wiping out any logic that might have been tenaciously clinging to her reality. The moment he set her down, she dashed for the door again.

With a speed that truly shocked her, he lunged forward and tackled her around the waist. In one smooth motion he shoved her to the floor and pinned her down with his body.

She had never been as frightened as she was at that moment, not even when her abductor had grabbed her. The bitter taste of adrenaline filled her mouth. Her heart pounded wildly, pushing her fear to every part of her body. Her throat threatened to close. She swallowed several times, but it did nothing to stop the sick churning in the pit of her stomach. It felt as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the air. She gasped for breath. She lashed out at him in panic, scratching the side of his face.

“Damn!” He grabbed both her wrists and held them above her head. “Settle down, you little hellcat. I told you I’m not going to hurt you. Now, calm down. Will you stay put and stop struggling if I let go of your wrists?”

The tears welled in her eyes. She tried to blink them away. A sob caught in her throat. She barely managed to force out the words. “Please don’t hurt me.”

His breathing quickened as he continued to struggle with her. She was obviously very frightened, but he also knew that she was hysterical and in danger of injuring herself if she tried to run again. He could not let her up from the floor before she regained control of her emotions. He forced a calm to his voice, one he didn’t feel but one he hoped would have an effect on her.

“I told you, I’m not going to hurt you.” He held both of her wrists in one of his hands and with the other one he grabbed both sides of her jaw and held her head still. He fixed her with a steady gaze. “Listen to me. I’m not going to hurt you. Do you hear me? Are you listening to me? Answer me.”

He saw her eyes focus on him. They were still filled with fear, but he knew he finally had her attention. He dropped his voice to what he hoped was a soothing level. “Quiet down. Be still. I’m not going to hurt you. Do you understand me?”

She nodded her head.

“Say it. I want to hear the words. Do you understand what I’m saying? I’m not going to hurt you.”

Her voice trembled, but the words finally came out. “I…I hear you.”

“Okay. Now, take a deep breath, then another one. You’re going to be all right. Take another breath.” He felt some of the tension drain from her body as her muscles relaxed a bit. When her breathing smoothed out until it was steady, he let go of her face. “I’m going to turn your wrists loose now, then we’ll get up from the floor. I want you to sit on the sofa. Do you understand?”

She took a deep breath. Her voice still contained a slight quaver as she spoke, but she had better control of it. “Yes.”

His face was so close to hers that he could feel her breath against his skin. Even disheveled, dirty and scratched, she still radiated a beauty and desirability that pushed his testosterone to the limit. And having his body on top of hers definitely aggravated the awkward situation. He had to break the physical contact before she had a valid reason to be concerned about what could happen.

He cautiously released her wrists from his grasp and allowed her to slowly lower her arms. “I’m going to stand up now. Are you sure you’re calm and in control of your emotions?” He felt a little more of her tension drain away. He rose to his feet, then held out his hand to help her up from the floor. She hesitated, then cautiously accepted his assistance.

To her surprise, her fear level didn’t elevate when he grasped her hand. He certainly radiated a commanding presence, but she had picked up on something else about him. His blue eyes had been wary as he stared at her, rather than menacing. They were honest and seemed to take in everything that was going on. Now that she was in control of herself again, she realized that there wasn’t anything potentially hurtful radiating from him.

Was it just wishful thinking on her part? Hoping she hadn’t become ensnared in even more trouble than she had been in a few hours earlier? Hoping she hadn’t stumbled into the hideout of a crazed rapist or a serial killer? She knew he wasn’t the man who had abducted her, but could he be in league with her stalker?

Her throat tightened and a sick feeling churned in the pit of her stomach again. Was she about to meet her final doom?

He guided her to the sofa in front of the fireplace. “I’m not going to hurt you. Now sit down and stay put while I build a fire and get some heat in here.” He started to reach for some logs, then turned his gaze on her again. He told her what she intellectually knew, but had not emotionally accepted.

“You can’t wander around in the rain. Besides, it will be dark soon. All you’ll accomplish is getting yourself hurt.” He returned his attention to starting a fire.

The cold, the wet and the emotional turmoil finally caught up with her. She shivered in hard spasms. She reached for the blanket folded across the back of the sofa and pulled it around her. Was she now a prisoner of this man? What should she do?

What could she do?

She studied him as he placed a couple of logs in the fireplace, then lit the small pieces of kindling. He looked as if he hadn’t shaved for a couple of days, but it didn’t do anything to hide his handsome features. His wet hair lay matted against his head, dark tendrils brushing against the top of his jacket collar. She noted his broad shoulders and long legs. He appeared to be in his late thirties. Most certainly a very sexy man with a magnetic aura and definite appeal.

She closed her eyes for a moment as she shook the thoughts from her head. She had been stalked, then abducted. She had escaped into the woods in an attempt to elude her pursuer. She had been running for her life—literally. And now she was trapped in a mountain cabin with this stranger who had clearly demonstrated how indefensible her position was when he had tossed her over his shoulder as if she were nothing more than a sack of feathers and hauled her back inside, then had physically held her against her will.

Any thoughts about the desirability of this man were not only totally inappropriate, they were absurd.

Reece’s voice broke into her thoughts as he closed the screen in front of the fire. “There—that should take the chill out of the air and help you warm up.”

He wasn’t sure what to do now. She sat huddled in the corner of the sofa with the blanket wrapped around her. Another hard jolt of lust struck him, tempered by the realization of how frightened and vulnerable she appeared. It had been two years and three months since he had been this close to a desirable woman. The sight played on his emotions and tugged at his senses. He tried to shove away the feelings. He went to the kitchen, took the sack from the grocery store out of the refrigerator and put everything away where it belonged, hoping the activity would give him time to think.

A few minutes later he returned to the living room. She was exactly where he had left her, scrunched in the corner of the sofa. He swallowed his discomfort and uneasiness as he forced an outer calm.

“Well, Goldilocks…are you sufficiently recovered enough to talk to me? Do you have a name?”

She pulled up all the courage she could muster as she attempted to project a commanding attitude. “Do you?”

“No you don’t, Goldilocks. It’s my cabin. You’re the trespasser. I’m the one who has the right to ask questions and demand answers.”

She glared at him. “Stop calling me Goldilocks!”

He suppressed the wry grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth. She had spirit. Even as frightened as she obviously was—as frightened as anyone would be under the circumstances—she had managed to put forth some heated sparks of independence. He found that very appealing. He had never been particularly interested in the clinging-vine type of woman nor the type who constantly needed to have her ego fed—not even as the occasional one-night stand.

He made eye contact with her and held it for a long moment before speaking. “Then tell me what to call you.”

Her emotions had been stretched, punched and pulled so taut that she didn’t have anything left other than the underlying current of fear that continued to run just below the surface. “Brandi…” She broke the eye contact as she quickly looked away. “Brandi Doyle.”

“Well, Brandi Doyle, what are you doing in my cabin?” The question left him uneasy. Was her obvious vulnerability getting to him? Was he allowing himself to be drawn into yet another bad situation with a woman where he would end up regretting that he hadn’t just allowed her to escape into the storm and out of his life?

“I…I needed someplace where I could get out of the storm.”

“I didn’t see a car. How did you get here? Why were you wandering around in the storm? Where did you come from?” He reached out and almost touched her face, withdrawing his hand before he made physical contact. “And where did you get those scratches on your face?”

“I—” This was no good. She didn’t have a clue who he was, other than the owner of the cabin. Or so he claimed.

True…even though she didn’t have any means of protecting herself, he hadn’t done anything other than bring her back inside from the storm. True…he had released her unharmed, as he’d said he would. True…he just might be an honorable and trustworthy man.

But could she really trust him with the truth about how and why she happened to be in his cabin?

She drew in a steadying breath in an effort to calm her galloping anxiety and ease her trepidation. She chose her words with great care. “I apologize for being here. I had no right to break into your cabin.” She rose to her feet and dropped the blanket on the sofa. “I’ll leave so you can go about your business.” She picked up her purse, screwed up her courage and headed toward the door.

Reece grabbed her arm and with his other hand took the purse from her. “Wait a minute. You can’t go wandering in the woods with a storm raging around you. Besides—” he glanced toward the window “—in another ten minutes it will be dark outside.”

He eyed her carefully, maintaining his hold on her as she tried to wrest her arm from his grip. “Are you in some kind of trouble? Are you in danger? Was my cabin more of a place for you to hide than merely somewhere to get out of the rain?”

Her words came out almost as a whisper, her voice pleading. “Please…let go of me. I want to leave.”

The quaver in her voice answered his questions, and the obvious fear that emanated from the depths of her eyes confirmed those answers. And it also told him that hell must have frozen over while he wasn’t looking. He had just been suckered into helping yet another beautiful woman in distress. Would he live to regret it this time, too?

She looked up at him, this time holding the eye contact. He saw the confusion in her troubled hazel eyes. He loosened his grip on her arm and guided her back to the sofa. He softened his voice, hoping it would instill some confidence and allay her concerns and obvious fears.

“Sit down.” He opened her purse and took out her driver’s license. “So, your name really is Brandi.” He noted her address in Rocky Shores, Washington—a city of about thirty thousand people in the greater Seattle metropolitan area. Rocky Shores…he turned that interesting tidbit of information over in his mind as he handed everything back to her.

He perched on the arm of the sofa and studied her for a moment. “Tell me what’s going on…please.”

She hesitated as if she wasn’t sure what to do or what to say. She emitted a sigh of resignation as she slumped back and allowed her tensed muscles to relax a little bit. He didn’t seem as threatening as he had earlier. True to his word, he had not harmed her. A lot of the fear had drained from her reality—but not all of it. “I don’t even know who you are. Why would you want to hear about my problems?”

“Fair enough question. My name is Reece Covington. You’re obviously in some kind of trouble and by breaking into my cabin you’ve involved me in it even if that wasn’t your intention.” Was he about to repeat the same colossal mistake that had landed him in prison for two years? He took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then slowly exhaled. He was not at all sure he was doing the right thing. His words came out slowly, surrounded by a touch of the uncertainty that jittered inside him.

“Perhaps there’s something I can do to help you.”

“How could you help me?”

“I don’t know. First, you’ll have to tell me what the problem is, then we’ll see if there’s some way I can help. It could be that the only thing I can do is provide you with a ride back to Rocky Shores.” He flashed an engaging smile, one he hoped would instill a feeling of confidence. “But that would certainly be better than walking back.”

All the defiance drained out of her body, to be replaced with despair. She didn’t know what to do or what to say. Her words were barely above a whisper, a very frightened whisper. “No one can help. No one believes me.”

He moved off the arm of the sofa and sat down next to her. “What is it that no one believes?” He was digging the hole deeper and deeper. He was becoming too involved in something that was none of his business—something that could only cause him more trouble than he wanted to accept. More trouble than he needed, especially now.

“All right.” She screwed up her determination. “You asked and here it is. For the past month someone has been stalking me.”

It was the last thing he had expected her to say, but it grabbed his attention. He could tell by the expression on her face that she was serious. “Stalking you? In what way?”

“Well…sometimes it was just a feeling that someone was watching me when I would be out at various places. Things like following me around the grocery store. I would turn around and look, but didn’t see anyone I recognized or even anyone who seemed to be paying any attention to me. At night I would sometimes hear sounds outside my house as if someone was checking to see if any of the doors or windows were unlocked. My phone would ring. I could hear breathing, but no one would answer me. It wasn’t the type of heavy breathing that you would think of as an obscene call, just someone on the line who didn’t say anything.”

“Well, that could have just been your imagination. Or maybe kids playing a prank.”

“That’s what the police said when I tried to report it. They didn’t believe me.” A frown wrinkled across her forehead, an angry frown that matched her tone of voice. “In fact, they were very condescending. They implied that I was nothing more than some hysterical neurotic female with an overactive imagination who should take a tranquilizer and get some rest.”

A little snort of disgust escaped his throat before he could stop it. “In my experience, that’s typical of the way the Rocky Shores Police Department handles things.”

“There’s more. There was a voice—a strange, unreal type of voice—that would reach out to me.”

“What do you mean by strange and unreal? Was it a man’s voice or a woman’s? What was different about this voice?”

“I’m not sure. It was sort of…well, like it was mechanical or something like that. It was a man’s voice.”

“Do you mean like a computer-generated voice? Something like that?”

The light of recognition came into her eyes. “Yes! That’s it. A computer-generated voice, not a real person.”

“You said it reached out to you. What do you mean? How did it reach out to you?”

Brandi scrunched up her face as she tried to come up with the right words to explain something that didn’t have any rational explanation. “It was as if it materialized out of thin air when there was no one around, at least no one I could see. Once it was in the fog during the day. Another time it was at night.”

“What did this voice say?”

“It called my name and told me to be careful, that it was coming for me. There were a couple of occasions when I could tell that someone had been in my house. Nothing was missing and everything appeared to be in the right place, but I could tell someone had looked through my things.”

“Your things…what kind of things? Do you mean like some pervert pawing through your underwear?”

“No. It seemed to be my office and my darkroom.”

Reece cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. “Your office? Your darkroom? You work from home? Are you a professional photographer or is it just a hobby?”

“It’s what I do for a living. Mostly weddings and portraits, but I’m also working on a coffee-table-type book—scenic photographs depicting the unique and beautiful sights of Washington.”

A sudden thought struck her, one that triggered a moment of anxiety. She tried to shove down the apprehension as she stared at him with a skeptical eye. She wasn’t sure she should open a can of worms by asking the question or, for that matter, whether she really wanted to know the answer.

“You sound like a policeman who’s interrogating a suspect. Are you…uh, are you a policeman?” The apprehension churned inside her. She held her breath as she waited for his response. Under normal circumstances a policeman would be a blessing and a relief, but not this time. Not now. Not with what she had seen when—

“Me? A policeman?” If the thought hadn’t been so preposterous it might have been funny. “No, I’m not a policeman.” A level of caution pushed to the forefront. Something about the way she had asked the question caught his attention. It was almost as if she was afraid he might be a policeman rather than hoping he was one.

The more she talked, the more he became fascinated with the tale she had to tell. He had dealt with this type of situation before. As a highly paid, very successful private investigator, he had handled several stalking cases during his career.

Career. He almost laughed out loud at the word, a laugh of bitter resentment. His extremely profitable career had been flushed down the toilet along with two years of his life when he was wrongly convicted and sent to prison. Now, he had enough money socked away from before his arrest to sustain him for a while, plus the profits from selling his house.

And he had the cabin. He had bought it eight years ago and had taken great pains to conceal its ownership—just as he had the ownership of his SUV—by using a series of dummy corporations and other evasive tactics. At the time he’d purchased it, the cabin’s purpose had been to provide a haven for clients who needed protection and a secure place to hide witnesses for a high-powered defense attorney who had regularly engaged his services. But now his needs were the most basic, and his expenses almost nonexistent.

And here was Brandi Doyle threatening that anonymity. If he had any sense at all he would drive her back to town, drop her off at her house and forget that she had ever crossed his path.

“So what does all of this lead up to? What happened today that you ended up in my cabin in the mountains in a rainstorm?” He saw the discomfort in her body language and the wariness in her eyes. Once again she had managed to touch a spot deep inside him that he had tried to protect against the vulnerability she couldn’t hide.

Brandi stared at the flames in the fireplace. She had already said too much, given more information to this complete stranger than she should have. Had she put herself in additional danger, more than what already pursued her? She wished she had some answers, but all she had were questions.

Questions and fears.

Her voice rang hollow. She couldn’t keep her emotional pain tucked away as she spoke. At least he was listening—or maybe just pretending to listen. Either way, it was more credence than the police had given her when she’d tried to report her stalker.

“Today someone abducted me as I was about to get into my car to go to the grocery store. I managed to escape when he stopped for gas. I ran into the woods and kept running until I saw your cabin.”

It was the last thing he had expected her to say and one more detail that added to his growing interest in her story. He fought to keep it on a purely intellectual level while attempting to ignore her physical attributes and the vulnerability that continued to reach out to him.

He maintained his outer composure, making sure he didn’t show her any of his thoughts or feelings. “Do you know who abducted you? Or why?”

“I have no idea why anyone would want to abduct me. I’m not wealthy. My family isn’t wealthy. I don’t have an ex-husband or even a spurned lover who would be wanting to get back at me for some real or imagined deed. I lead a basically uneventful life. I don’t have any enemies that I’m aware of. I’m at a complete loss as to why this is happening to me.”

She paused and took in a calming breath before continuing. “I guess I can’t blame the police for not believing me. I know everything I’ve said sounds absurd. And to make things worse, I think…uh, I think the man who abducted me was…” Once again she drew in a deep breath in an effort to still her rattled nerves. She stared at the burning logs, her words a mere whisper.

“I think he was a policeman.”

Chapter Two

Reece’s senses jumped to rigid attention as he rose to his feet and stood facing Brandi. “You were abducted by a policeman?” His words came machine-gun fast as the excitement raced through him. “Are you sure? How do you know he was a policeman? Was he in uniform? Do you know his name? What did he look like? How old was he? Had you ever seen him before?”

Had he heard her correctly? It was a rogue cop who had framed him for a crime he didn’t commit. A quick surge of anger jolted through him. He would never be able to get those two years back, but he was determined to get the people responsible for sending him to prison. It was all he had thought about for the entire two years. Was it even remotely possible that what happened to him could somehow be connected to her predicament?

His office had been in Rocky Shores. It had been a detective with the Rocky Shores Police Department who had framed him. She lived in Rocky Shores. Could it be the same cop? If it had happened in Seattle, or some other large city, he would have said it was preposterous—too coincidental to be real. But in Rocky Shores—a city of only thirty thousand people? Or was he desperately grasping at straws in an attempt to connect the two incidents?

He repeated his question, determined to get an answer that satisfied him. He leaned forward, his hands on the back of the sofa on each side of her head—his face almost touching hers. He slowly repeated the question, clearly enunciating each word in a low voice that left no room for any confusion concerning his seriousness and demand for an answer.

“How do you know he was a policeman?”

Brandi stared at Reece in several seconds of stunned silence. He had suddenly come alive, catching her totally off guard. The intensity etched on his features matched the resolve in the depth of his blue eyes. His commanding presence was unnervingly close, his face so near that she could literally feel the strength of his determination radiate to her.

And that wasn’t all. His clean, masculine scent was as sexy and appealing as if he had just splashed himself with an aphrodisiac guaranteed to work its wonders on unsuspecting women. It was the type of thing that could make the strongest will melt on the spot. She suspected that if they continued in such close proximity she would succumb with very little objection in spite of the earlier frightening physical encounter.

She tried to douse the flame of desire he had ignited inside her—the totally inappropriate desire—by forcing her attention back to the reality of the present and the danger that had suddenly invaded her life. Something was going on. Something more than the owner of this cabin wanting to know why she had trespassed on his property. He already knew a lot about her, but the only thing she knew about him was his name.

If that was really his name.

It left her with a very uncomfortable feeling. He had blatantly displayed how physically vulnerable she was when he had thrown her over his shoulder as if she were nothing more than a sack of feathers and then pinned her to the floor when she had tried to run again. With each ensuing question her emotional vulnerability increased.

And she didn’t like the sensation—the same helplessness that had beset her for the past month. An emotional upheaval that she couldn’t control.

Somehow, she had to regain the upper hand over what was happening. She had to once again be in charge of her own life. Whether anyone believed her or not, she knew she was in danger, and it was up to her to protect herself from the unknown person who seemed determined to harm her. She had tried to go to the police and had been dismissed as if she was some delusional nut case—some irrational woman. She didn’t have anyone she could count on other than herself.

His voice interrupted her attempt to make sense of things. “You haven’t answered my question, Brandi. How do you know the man who abducted you was a police officer?”

She steeled her determination, put her hands on his hard, muscled chest and pushed him away. “Stop browbeating me!”

He straightened up as her words sank in. And along with his realization of what she had said was the heated sensation of her hands against his chest. One thing was blatantly clear. He had to avoid any more physical contact with her. Two years in prison followed by three months of self-imposed isolation had left him with a very tenuous hold on his libido. Being around her had ignited a burning need that all the cold showers in the world would not be able to quench.

He took a step backward. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s just that I’m very interested in what you’re saying. I want to know about this man you claim abducted you. I…uh…I know some of the members of the Rocky Shores police force—”

“You’re friends with the police?”

He saw the alarm register on her features and knew he had said the wrong thing. “No, I didn’t say I was friends with any of the members of the Rocky Shores Police Department. I merely said I knew some of them. I came in contact with several of the boys in blue over the years. Sort of an occupational hazard.”

“Occupational hazard?” She furrowed her brow in confusion. “What is it you do?”

“I was a private investigator.” He clenched his jaw in a hard line of determination. “And a damn good one, too. I lived on Mercer Island, but my office was in Rocky Shores.”

“A private investigator?” Her entire demeanor brightened. “I had considered hiring a private investigator when the police wouldn’t help me with my stalker.”

“Why didn’t you?”

A downcast expression crossed her face. “I guess I thought it would all come to a stop by itself, the same way it had started. I kept putting it off—” she emitted a sigh of resignation “—and then it was too late. Maybe if I’d hired a private investigator I wouldn’t be in this mess now.”

“So, let me try this for the third time.” His words and tone of voice were part exasperation and part determination. “How do you know the man who abducted you was a police officer?”

“Well…he was dressed in plainclothes, but when he grabbed me his jacket came open and I saw a badge clipped to his belt.” She saw Reece’s eyes narrow as if he was turning the information over in his mind. A little tremor of anxiety fluttered around inside her. Had she said the wrong thing?

“Describe him for me.”

“I only got a glimpse of him before he blindfolded me.”

“Do the best you can. Let’s start with his size. How tall do you think he was? My size? Shorter? Taller? Heavier? Lighter? What was your impression of his physical presence?”

She looked at him quizzically. “Why do you want to know? Why are you suddenly so interested?” She returned her gaze to the flames crackling in the fireplace. She had to admit that she felt a little more at ease around him. Whatever fears she might have harbored about Reece Covington and her safety while in his cabin had subsided. If he had wanted to harm her there was nothing preventing him from having already done it. He had her in his control and hadn’t taken advantage of the situation.

“No one believed me before I was abducted, including the police. I know no one will believe me now, especially the police, if I say that I think it was one of their own who did it.”

“I’m not everyone else. I’m me and I’m interested—very interested.”

He searched the depth of her eyes and once again felt the emotional tug of her vulnerability, something he didn’t want to experience or even know about. He also felt the physical pull on his desires, something he most assuredly wanted to explore even though he knew he shouldn’t. But a very real sensation all the same.

“Why? Why would you be interested in what happened?” A shortness of breath caught in her lungs. He seemed to be looking into the very depths of her soul. If she thought she had been in trouble while running through the woods to escape her abductor and again when Reece had tackled her, she didn’t know what to call what was happening now. She had run for her life and ended up in a cabin with a man who left her confused, unnerved and uneasy. But she was no longer fearful of his presence.

Quite the contrary. In some strange way she felt a sensual pull toward him, a totally inappropriate attraction. There was something very solid and real about this man, something very reassuring. He exuded a silent strength that said he knew who he was and could handle himself in any type of situation, whether physical or mental.

And he claimed to be a private investigator. Perhaps he was just what she needed. Could it be that fate had delivered her into the hands of someone who would believe her story? Someone who could actually help her find her way out of the nightmare?

Reece shifted his weight from one foot to the other in a moment of discomfort as he turned her words over in his mind. “Let’s just say that I have an old score to settle with someone.”

He allowed his tensed muscles to relax while carefully choosing his words. He didn’t want to do or say anything that would cause her to stop confiding in him. “I want to find out if there’s a possible connection between what’s been happening to you and something from my past.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I don’t think that’s pertinent to our discussion.”

Brandi stood up, dropped the blanket to the floor and took a couple of steps toward the fireplace. She held her hands out toward the warmth. “I see. I’m supposed to bare my soul to you, but whatever is going on in your life is none of my business.” She turned to face him. “That doesn’t seem very fair to me.” She leveled a stern look in his direction. “How about you? Does that seem fair to you?”

There was no doubt in his mind about the message she had just delivered. He was pushing her too much, too hard and too fast. He needed to back off and let things calm down. He had to keep his own issues off the front burner if he was going to get the information out of her that he wanted.

Reece shifted gears in an attempt to gain her confidence. He extended a warm smile. “I’m hungry. I notice you helped yourself to some soup, but that’s not much of a meal. Now that I have food in the refrigerator, could I interest you in some dinner? Maybe a steak and a green salad?”

A tentative smile curled the edges of her lips. “I have to admit that Iam hungry. You’re right, soup isn’tmuch of a meal and that’s the only thing I’ve had to eat all day.”

He went to the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with an opened bottle of wine and two glasses. “My favorite merlot to go with the steak. How do you like yours cooked? Rare, medium…”

“How about a pink center, but not really too red?”

He smiled—a warm, engaging smile. “Consider it done.”

Brandi took a sip of her wine as she watched him return to the kitchen. He had a marvelous smile framed by an incredibly handsome face. His eyes were honest, eyes that didn’t look away as if they were trying to hide something. And a smooth voice that she suspected could lull anyone into believing whatever he wanted them to believe. Or so it seemed.

She was beginning to relax as the stress started to melt away. For the first time since the nightmare began, she felt a flicker of hope try to assert itself. If Reece Covington truly was a private investigator maybe he could help her. She allowed a slight sigh of resignation. It took more than someone with a handsome face, a hard body and enough sexual magnetism to fill the Grand Canyon to be able to help her. She knew the danger surrounding her would not go away on its own. Should she trust him more than she already had? After all, what did she have to lose?

Only her life, that’s all.

She leaned back and closed her eyes. The sound of the rain on the roof mingled with the crackling and popping of the burning wood to form an intimate coziness. With his office in Rocky Shores he certainly would have come into periodic contact with the Rocky Shores police. As a private investigator he surely had occasion to interface with the local police on cases he was working on.

There seemed to be a lot of mystery surrounding him, but she felt somewhat reluctant to question him too much. Her mind drifted to myriad thoughts, some of them about the trouble she was in, some of them about this very disconcerting man and others to what the future held for her. It seemed no time at all before Reece returned with a tray. He set it on the table.

“Dinner is served.”

They ate, sipped their wine and engaged in superficial conversation. She immediately recognized his mastery at controlling the situation, including the direction of the conversation and the topics they discussed. If he was even half as good a private investigator as he was at manipulating what went on around him without giving the impression of seeming to be demanding or intimidating, then perhaps he would be the ideal person to help her.

If he really was a private investigator.

And if he meant what he said about not harming her.

When they finished eating, he indicated the sofa in front of the fireplace. He put another log on the fire, then sat down next to her.

“Now that we’ve had some dinner and you’ve had an opportunity to relax, perhaps we could get back to the main issue at hand.”

She gathered her composure and challenged his take-charge attitude. “Okay, I believe my question was what had happened in your past that you apparently think might be linked to what’s going on in my life right now. What kind of a connection are you talking about and why do you think such a connection would even exist?”

He emitted a soft chuckle, amused by her attempt to put him on the defensive. “I meant getting back to your description of what this policeman who abducted you looks like.”

“I’ve answered lots of questions for you. I think it’s time you answered at least one of mine.”

He turned her words over in his mind. He had to admit that it was a reasonable request. “All right.” He chose his words carefully, not wanting to fully disclose the nature of what had happened. “I had a run-in with a Rocky Shores police detective that turned out very bad for me. Ever since then, I’ve had my suspicions about him, his honesty and his ethics. I’m trying to determine if it could be the same man who abducted you.”

“Wouldn’t that be a little too coincidental? Something from out of left field?”

“No more so than finding you in my cabin.”

Brandi leaned back and slowly nodded her head. “Touché!”

“Besides, we’re both connected to Rocky Shores, a town of only thirty thousand people. I worked there and you live there. That ties it together with some reality rather than mere coincidence, certainly much more than if it had been a large city like Seattle.”

He softened his voice to a soothing timbre. “Now, tell me what the man looked like…as much as you can recall.”

“Well, I’m five-seven, and he was definitely taller than I am but not as tall as you.”

“I’m six foot two. So, would five feet eleven inches be about right? Or would he be a little shorter than that? Or taller?”

“That sounds right…five-eleven. He was average weight for his height. His hair was sort of a sandy brown color with some gray mixed in. I’d say he was in his mid-forties.”

The excitement built inside him. His mind raced almost faster than his mouth could keep up with it. “Did you notice the color of his eyes? Any scars, tattoos or other distinguishing marks? A beard or mustache?”

“His eyes? No, I didn’t get that good a look at him. As I said, it was only a quick glimpse before he blindfolded me.” She wrinkled her brow in concentration. There was something else…something she could almost see, but not quite.

He cocked his head and looked questioningly at her. “Yes?”

“I’m not sure. I know I saw something important, but I can’t bring it into focus. It was so fleeting. Maybe I only thought—”

Her body stiffened. A quick jolt of fear crashed through her when he placed his hand over her eyes. She grabbed his wrist and frantically tried to pull his hand away from her face.

Her sudden burst of fear came out in her voice. “What are you doing?” Had her tentative trust been misplaced? Was this the moment she had dreaded? Was he in league with her stalker? Had she said enough for him to realize that she could be a threat to him?

Reece shoved her hand away. “Just relax. I told you, I’m not going to hurt you. Now, close your eyes and try to visualize what happened. What did he do first? Tell me everything you can remember in the order that it occurred.”

Brandi took a calming breath. Had she allowed her fears to shove her imagination into overload? When she wasn’t afraid of what he might do, he managed to instill a sense of confidence.

“Okay.” She took a calming breath, leaned back and closed her eyes. The scene began to replay through her mind.

“He must have been hiding in my garage, waiting for me. When I opened my car door he came up behind me and put his hand over my mouth. As I struggled to get free he put his other arm across my neck and told me I’d better shut up and behave if I didn’t want to get hurt.”

“His voice…what did it sound like?”

“I couldn’t tell. He whispered the words in my ear, sort of a raspy whisper. I don’t know if it was real or if he was attempting to disguise his voice. He shoved me toward the side door of the garage. He turned me loose so he could open the door. That’s when I got a glimpse of his face. He put a blindfold over my eyes and steered me out the door and across the backyard toward the alley. I tripped on something, stumbled and fell. My blindfold shifted position. When he reached down to pull me to my feet, I was able to see out from underneath it.”

She frowned as she pursed her lips. “That’s when I saw his badge…and something else. It was on his arm.”

She sat up straight. Her eyes opened wide as if she had just remembered something. “No—it wasn’t his arm. It was on his wrist.”

Reece’s voice grew anxious. “What did you see? A scar? A tattoo? What?”

“I’m not sure. He had something around his wrist. It wasn’t a watch. I think it was…” The fuzzy image suddenly popped into focus. She saw it clearly. The excitement filled her voice and surrounded her words. She made eye contact with him. “That’s it! It was a medical alert bracelet.”

“Were you able to make out what type of medical condition? If he was a policeman, then he would have been in good health so it wouldn’t have been something like a heart condition. Perhaps an allergy to some sort of medication?”

“I don’t know what it said, but I recognized the medical insignia on it.”

A flicker of disappointment rippled through him, dashing his hopes. He quickly shoved it aside and went on to his next question. “The badge…were you able to make out anything beyond the fact that it was a badge? A police department? A federal agency? Anything?”

A dejected Brandi slumped back against the sofa cushions. A definite air of disappointment accompanied her words. “No, just that it was a badge clipped to his belt.”

Reece shifted the direction of his questions in an attempt to jog her memory a little more. “Was there anything else on his belt? A holster, perhaps? If he was wearing his badge, then he was probably armed, too. Did you notice anything like that?”

“No, nothing.”

“Okay, let’s try something else. How was he dressed?”

She furrowed her brow in concentration as she tried to force an image. “He wasn’t wearing a suit, but he wasn’t dressed in jeans, either. He wore slacks, a shirt that buttoned down the front and tucked in rather than a pullover and some sort of lightweight jacket with a zipper.”

“You’re doing great, Brandi. Just a little more, now. What color were his clothes?”

“The slacks were a charcoal-gray and the jacket a lighter shade of gray. The shirt was blue.”

“That’s terrific—good job.” He squeezed her hand to show his appreciation.

She looked up at him. His expression showed how pleased he was with what she had been able to recall. A little moment of satisfaction nestled inside her. It was a lot more detail than she realized she had noticed at the time.

There was one more thing she became acutely aware of…Reece’s hand still covered hers. Rather than evoking fear, this time his touch filled her with a comfort that she found very reassuring. It was accompanied by a flicker of hope she had not felt since the nightmare began a month ago.

“Does that help at all? Did I remember enough for you to recognize who it was?”

“Well, it wasn’t enough for me to be sure about anything, but it will go a long way in identifying who it was if we come across him somewhere along the line.”

“We?” The excitement bubbled inside her. “Does this mean that you believe me? That you’re going to help me?” Maybe there was a way out of this mess after all. She tried to temper her enthusiasm with a more pragmatic approach. “I’ll pay for your investigative services, of course. A straightforward business deal.”

“We can talk about that later.” He withdrew his hand from hers. The moment of intimate contact had infused him with a warmth he had not felt in a long time. The moment he broke the physical contact a sudden feeling of loss flooded through him. That was not a good sign. He needed to double his determination to maintain his emotional distance from this very tempting woman and her obvious vulnerability, which continued to tug at him.

“Do you think you would recognize him if you saw a picture?”

She tilted her head to one side and scrunched up the side of her mouth. “I don’t know. I might. As I said, it was only a glimpse.” She sat up straight and stared at him. “Do you have pictures of the members of the Rocky Shores Police Department?” Then she slumped back again. “Of course, he might be a police officer somewhere else, one of the other cities around Seattle or maybe even in Seattle.”

A sigh of resignation escaped her throat. “Or maybe he was some sort of security guard and not a law enforcement officer at all.”

Reece grabbed another log and put it on the fire. “That’s very true. We can’t go jumping to conclusions.” As much as he wanted to tie together her problem with his, he didn’t have anything concrete—only his strong suspicions.

He went to the window, pulled the drape aside and stared out into the darkness. “The rain doesn’t seem to be letting up. It looks like it might end up raining all night.” And of even more concern to him was what to do about her being in his cabin. Eventually it would be time to go to bed. Should he offer to drive her home? Drive her to a motel?

Suggest that she spend the night in his cabin?

He was never going to keep temptation at arm’s length with her sleeping under the same roof with him. A cozy fire, the sound of the rain—a scene ripe for seduction. He sucked in a deep breath, held it for several seconds, then slowly exhaled. What had he gotten himself into? The very notion that her stalking and abduction would have any connection to him being set up and framed for a crime was totally preposterous. He was trying to make two pieces fit together that didn’t even belong to the same puzzle.

Reece had been offered parole after only a few months in prison, but had refused. He had no intention of giving them the opportunity of sending him back to prison with time added on to his sentence by claiming some trumped-up violation of his parole. He did the full term of his sentence and walked out the gates without further obligation to the legal system—no reporting to a parole officer, needing to provide them with his address or having to prove that he had a job.

It had been three months. He had been hiding in his cabin with nothing to do to occupy his time other than read, watch television, surf the Internet and dwell on the past and what had happened to him. Maybe it was time to put that part of his life to rest. To quit thinking about it. To stop fixating on the people who had been responsible.

But that was easier said than done.

He stared at Brandi. She seemed to be lost in thought. Perhaps fate had delivered her into his hands. Even though he no longer had his private investigator’s license, he could still put his expertise to use by helping her get to the bottom of the mystery. It would give him a place to focus his energy and help pull him out of his self-pity.

He needed to come up with a plan of action. But first, he had to figure out what they were going to do about sleeping arrangements for that night. He returned to the sofa and sat down next to her.

“Brandi…” He took her hand in his. Once again the physical contact filled him with a warmth that had been missing from his life for far too long. He forced his thoughts to the immediate problem. “We have to figure out what to do about tonight…about sleeping arrangements…about where—”

He felt her muscles tense and her body stiffen.

Chapter Three

Anxiety filled Brandi’s voice, and a hint of panic crept into her words. “I can’t go home. Whoever it is knows where I live. He might be watching my house at this very minute.”

Reece tried to alleviate her sudden surge of panic. “That’s what I thought, too. So, we’re left with two options. I can drive you to a motel or…uh…” A rush of discomfort told him how awkward he found the situation. “You can spend the night here.”

He saw the alarm flash through her eyes and across her face. He rushed his words, afraid she had misinterpreted what he’d said. “This sofa folds out into a bed. I can sleep here and you can have the bedroom.”

Brandi stared at him for a moment. She knew she couldn’t go home but hadn’t really solidified any thoughts about exactly what to do or where to go. She didn’t want to jump to conclusions again, assume the worst, but she didn’t want him to get the wrong idea either. “I don’t want to impose on you like that. I’ve already abused your hospitality.”

With his free hand he gestured toward her dirty clothes. “You’d probably like something clean to put on and a hot shower, too.”

A shy smile slowly formed on her lips. “Yes, that would be nice. But I don’t know where I’m going to get any clean clothes tonight.”

His words were tentative, escaping into the open before he was sure he wanted to say them. “I could go to your house and bring back what you need.”

A quick look of concern flitted across her face. “But if someone is watching my house, they’d see you go inside. You’d be in danger.”

He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Don’t you worry about that. I can spot surveillance a mile away, especially if the person watching your house thinks they are dealing with someone who is inexperienced in the method of a stakeout. I know how to get in and out of places without being spotted. So—” he flashed a confident smile “—draw a floor plan of your house, give me your keys and a list of what you want and tell me where to find it. I should be back in a little over two hours. It’s normally a one-hour drive to Rocky Shores from here. I should be in and out of your house in less than ten minutes and will come straight back. Of course, it might take a little longer because of the rain on the mountain roads.”

“Why can’t I go with you? I certainly know where everything is. Wouldn’t it be better if I went along?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. If someone is watching your house, I don’t want to take a chance on whoever it is seeing you. If they spot you, it could be a dangerous situation. I can take care of myself, but I’d rather not have to take care of both of us. It will be quicker for me to go alone.”

“Well…I guess that makes sense.” Giving the key to her house to a virtual stranger? It was a decision that left her uneasy, but what did she have to lose at this point? If he truly posed a threat to her, he could have done any number of unpleasant things to her by now.

After all, no one knew where to find her. She was trapped in his cabin—even to the point where he had hauled her back inside when she had tried to run. He had her pinned to the floor and under his complete control.

Yet he had been a man of his word. He had told her he wouldn’t hurt her, and he hadn’t.

Then another thought occurred to her. Having him gone for a while would give her an opportunity to search the cabin and see if she could find anything other than the very sketchy information he had given her—reluctantly given her. Was she merely rationalizing this no-win situation, or was this strategy viable? She wasn’t sure.

He may have soothed her shattered nerves a bit, but she was still acutely aware of the very real danger that had chased her to his cabin in the first place and continued to pursue her. She steeled her determination. She needed to take advantage of every opportunity that came her way, and this was no exception.

“Do you have some paper and a pencil so I can draw that floor plan and make you a list?”

He grabbed a notebook and pen from the top of the desk and handed them to her. She sketched the layout of her house, listed a few basic things for him to bring her and where to find them. She tore out the page and handed it to him along with her keys.

“Here, this should do it.”

He took the paper from her, started to leave, then paused. He turned to face her, his voice soft and conveying his genuine concern. “Lock the door behind me. Don’t open it for anyone, no matter who they say they are. I’ll use my key to get in when I return.”

Her words were filled with emotion. “Please…be careful.”

He extended a confident smile, then the smile faded. It was as if he didn’t have any conscious control over his own actions. He brushed his fingertips across her cheek, cupped her chin in his hand and leaned his face into hers. He placed a soft kiss on her lips. His words held the same emotion as hers had. “Don’t worry. I’m always careful.” He allowed his hand to linger for a moment before breaking the enticing physical contact.

Brandi watched as he pulled on a rain jacket and stepped out onto the front porch. He brought the hood over his head, then made a dash for his car. She shut and locked the front door and listened as he started the engine and drove away.

She suddenly felt very much alone. It had only been a few hours since Reece had found her in his cabin. During that time, she had been fearful of the danger he represented, petrified when he’d chased her out into the storm and forcibly brought her back to the cabin, then terrified out of her wits when he’d tackled her and pinned her to the floor. But he had let her up as he’d promised and had done his best to make her comfortable. She had to admit that he had managed to ease her fears and worries and even instill a modicum of confidence. He seemed a man of his word.

She touched her fingers to her lips. The heat of the brief kiss continued to linger there. She didn’t know what to think. Was she being played for a fool? Was this all part of some master plan he had devised? She shook her head. If he was somehow involved, why would he have gone off and left her alone to escape? True, he had her house keys, but not having a key certainly wouldn’t stop someone from entering her house.

She attempted to dismiss the conflicting thoughts and her emotional upheaval by turning her attention to other matters.

The desk against the far wall—there would probably be something in the desk that would tell her more about him. If nothing else, at least something that could confirm his name.

She swallowed down the nervousness churning in the pit of her stomach as she slowly crossed the room to the desk. She reached out a trembling hand, then paused. The same feeling of guilt washed through her as it had when she’d crawled in his kitchen window. What she was doing was wrong. But she also told herself that the present circumstances were anything but normal.

Her confusion ran rampant, leaving her emotions in turmoil. He had been right. She wanted to believe him. To believe that he was an honorable man. To believe that he could and would help her.

To believe that she could trust him.

She pulled open the drawer and withdrew several file folders, placing them on top of the desk. Then she opened a large bottom drawer where she found a laptop computer resting on top of several large envelopes.

REECE DROVE DOWN Brandi’s street, taking careful note of every parked car. He didn’t drive so slowly that he would look suspicious to the neighbors, but slowly enough that he didn’t miss anything. Her sketch indicated a gate from the back alley to her yard and a side door from the yard to the garage. He could enter the house that way without anyone in front seeing him. But first, he wanted to make sure no one was watching from the street.

For an hour he had turned things over in his mind as he drove from his cabin to her house. Had he just been pulled into another bad situation by a beautiful woman who appeared vulnerable and seemed in need of his help? Was he being set up again, only this time with a longer prison sentence waiting on the horizon? But could he afford to pass up an opportunity to even things with Frank James, no matter what the risk? He wasn’t at all sure he was doing the right thing.

Had he ended up frightening Brandi more than instilling a sense of confidence? He touched his fingers to the scratches on the side of his face. Yes, indeed—she had fought to protect herself. Unfortunately, he had been on the receiving end of her attack. After that, had he managed to assuage her fears?

Suddenly, a flicker of light caught his attention, snapping his mind away from his thoughts and back to the task at hand. The breath froze in his lungs. His senses went on full alert. A man was sitting in a car parked across the street from Brandi’s house, his cigarette lighter supplying just enough illumination to see the man’s face. There was no doubt in his mind—Detective Sergeant Frank James, recently promoted to the rank of lieutenant.

Years of anger and resentment twisted in his gut, turning his insides into a seething cauldron. It took all his conscious control to continue driving in a straight line at the same speed and not do anything to arouse suspicion. When he arrived at the corner he made a left turn so that he could come back through the alley behind Brandi’s house. As soon as he was out of the lieutenant’s line of sight, he pulled over to the curb and stopped.

His worst nightmare and his foremost obsession all rolled up into one. Frank James—the crooked cop who had lied on the witness stand. The man responsible for sending him to prison. Frank James and his cohort, an enticing and devious little sexpot named Cindy Thatcher. Cindy had played him for a fool from day one, and he had been so dazzled that he hadn’t seen it coming.

Reece had a turbulent ten-year history with Frank. It had started when Frank had arrested a murder suspect, insisting that the man was guilty beyond any doubt—almost as if it had been a personal matter for him. The suspect’s attorney had hired Reece to find evidence to verify his client’s alibi. Reece had been able to do it, and the man had been acquitted. Reece later found out that the man’s arrest had, indeed, been a personal matter on the part of Frank James.

After that, it had seemed that every time Reece had turned around, a case he was involved with ended up having something to do with Frank James. Twice Frank had attempted to get his private investigator’s license revoked on the flimsiest of excuses, and twice he had failed.

What in the world could Brandi be involved in that had put a piece of vindictive scum like Frank James on her trail?

He clenched his jaw in determination and tried to tamp down his bitter resentment. If she had somehow crossed this rogue cop, then it was as much his fight as it was hers. She was ill-equipped to handle a confrontation with Frank on her own. If nothing else, that settled the matter in his mind. Frank James was his prey—and nothing would stand in his way in bringing Frank down.

True, Brandi’s sketchy description of her abductor could fit any number of men, but Frank James was definitely one of them. A little flicker of satisfaction told him things were about to break wide open, that inner voice and instinct he had learned to trust over the years, especially during his time in prison. If only he had trusted that voice earlier, back when it had tried to tell him Cindy Thatcher was bad news.

Suddenly the world had come alive with a promise of a future. He had found a purpose, a way to focus his energy and revitalize his existence. And that purpose was to expose Frank James and bring down his network.

Reece drove down the alley behind Brandi’s house with his headlights turned off. He stopped two houses from her back fence, turned off the engine and sat for a few minutes going over everything in his mind. The reason he had given Brandi for her staying behind had been the truth—as far as it went. But he had another reason for not wanting her to go with him. He wanted to do more than just pick up the things on her list. He also wanted to look around inside her house, to get a better feel for who she was and see if he could find anything that might give him a clue to what was happening and why. But with Frank James sitting out in front, he needed to be careful.

Very careful.

Frank James epitomized obnoxious, unethical, dishonest and arrogant. He represented a slap in the face to all the law enforcement officers who worked hard to keep the public safe while placing their own lives in daily jeopardy. But there was one thing Frank James was not—he was not a fool.

Reece didn’t want to enter Brandi’s house while Frank was still parked in front. He made his way across her backyard and stationed himself in the bushes where he could see Frank’s car.

And then he waited.

Stakeouts weren’t new to him, but it had been a long time since he had experienced the excitement of being on a case. The adrenaline surge told him he was back where he belonged. Even the steady rainfall didn’t dampen his enthusiasm. And he had the added benefit of knowing it was more than just being on a case again. His one burning obsession, clearing his name while bringing down the man responsible for putting him in prison, had just taken on a new life. It had moved into the realm of reality.

Less than half an hour later Frank started his car and pulled away from the curb. Reece waited another fifteen minutes to make sure Frank wasn’t circling the neighborhood in an effort to make it appear that he had gone.

He pulled Brandi’s keys from his pocket and entered the garage from the side door. Once safely out of sight, he shrugged out of his rain jacket and shook off the water. He took off his boots and left them in the garage so he wouldn’t track mud inside her house. He pulled the flashlight from his pocket.

Using her sketch, he slowly made his way through the interior, room by room. Everything in the living room, dining room and kitchen seemed to be normal, or at least what he assumed to be normal. Everything was neat, clean and orderly. Nothing appeared to have been disturbed. He looked around her bedroom and bathroom. Things there seemed to be in place, too. He collected the items she had on her list, placing them in a small suitcase from her closet.

Then he checked her office, a storage room, her darkroom and what would have been another bedroom that she was using as a studio. In sharp contrast to the rest of her house, it seemed obvious that someone had searched these rooms. While her picture files had not been vandalized, someone had definitely been looking for something specific. He had no way of knowing what they had been searching for or if anything was missing.

What could someone have been looking for? Or more accurately, what could Frank James be looking for? Why would pictures of weddings and portrait sittings be of interest to him? What could they have to do with the nightmare that had invaded her life? Even the photographs for the book she said she was working on, scenic pictures from around the state, didn’t seem to be anything that would pose a threat to anyone.

If Brandi had purposely hidden something in her picture files, then she would know what someone had been after and why she had become a target. But he believed her story. He believed she was very frightened and didn’t know why any of this was happening to her.

Two televisions, a VCR and a DVD player, a computer, camera equipment and darkroom equipment—items easily turned into cash—had not been disturbed. He returned to her bedroom and checked the jewelry box. Unless there was a particular piece of jewelry missing, everything appeared to be undisturbed.

So, the disarray in her office was not the work of a common burglar. Had whoever it was found what he had been looking for? It was a question he couldn’t answer. Would Brandi be able to?

Reece pulled a small digital camera from his pocket and thoroughly documented the condition of her work areas. Maybe the pictures would trigger something for her that could help them figure out what was going on. As an afterthought, he also took pictures of the other rooms in case there was something missing that was not obvious to him. He worked quickly, dimming the flash so it wouldn’t be visible to curious eyes outside.

He glanced at his watch. He had stayed there longer than he had intended to on top of the long wait before he could enter the house. He would be very late getting back to the cabin, and he had no way of contacting her to let her know what was happening.

He made one last survey of her office and darkroom. A strange thought began to form in the back of his mind, something so obscure that it seemed almost ridiculous. But not so ridiculous that he could completely dismiss it. A thought about why someone had rummaged through her picture files.

Before leaving, he grabbed the business appointment book from her desktop, the PDA from the drawer, then turned on her computer and checked her security software to make sure he could access her hard drive from his laptop computer.

He returned to the cabin as quickly as the road conditions allowed. Would she still be there, or would she have taken advantage of his absence and left his cabin? Surely she wouldn’t be so foolish as to wander around in the woods on foot in a rainstorm at night. Or would she? Would his impulsive kiss have frightened her, made her afraid of what might happen if she stayed in his cabin overnight? Was she still wary about him having been physical with her to get her back inside the cabin? She should know that if he were the type of man who would attack her he would already have done it, but that didn’t mean she was thinking with her logic rather than her emotions. He again touched his fingers to the scratches on his cheek.

Stupid…stupid…stupid. Why did I kiss her? Why couldn’t I have left the cabin as I’d planned, without indulging the temptation?

By the time he pulled off the fire road and parked in his carport, over three and a half hours had passed, much longer than he had told her. He was tired, but the excitement of being involved in a case again had kept his adrenaline pumping.

And the chance to get at Frank James had made his spirits soar.

Reece unlocked the door and stepped inside. The cabin was quiet and the room empty. His muscles tensed and an adrenaline surge put his senses on high alert. He called to her, forcing a casualness to his voice that did not exist. “Brandi…it’s me. I’m a little late, but I’m back.”

He maintained his position by the front door as his gaze raked the room, searching for anything that was out of place. He spotted the papers on the dining table—his release papers from prison. A quick jolt of panic hit him. He hadn’t been prepared for this. He called her name again.

“Brandi…”

A moment later she emerged from the bathroom. Her strained voice told him she had forced a calm to her words. “I was starting to worry. I thought you might have had problems because of the rain and the mountain roads…or something.”

He saw the wariness in her eyes and the way she seemed to be using the furniture as a barrier between them. He knew he could not sidestep this one by telling her it was none of her business. He had forcibly carried her back inside the cabin when she’d tried to leave. That sort of made it her business. She had the right to know who he was…within reason. But exactly how much should he tell her? He also knew it would be better if he brought up the subject rather than waiting for her to do it. That way, he could control the direction of the conversation.

He gestured toward the papers on the table. As the old adage said, the best defense was a good offense. He carefully chose his words in an attempt to throw her off balance and keep control.

“I see you’ve been snooping in my desk and going through my personal papers.”

Her eyes widened in surprise at his accusation. She nervously shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She didn’t like what he’d said, but she couldn’t deny it. “Well, uh…no, I…well, I did happen to see—”

He picked up the papers from the table top and glanced through them. “Yes, I can see what you happened to come across in your innocent perusal of my belongings—something that was inside an envelope under my laptop computer in the bottom drawer of my desk. They were practically on public display, just waiting for someone to come along and see them.”

He turned his back on her as he took off his rain jacket and hung it on the coat hook by the door. Then he pulled off his muddy boots. He turned and faced her again.

“And now I suppose you’d like to have an explanation?”

“Well, I was sort of wondering…” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t know what to say or how to respond to his attack. What in the world had possessed her to leave the papers on the table rather than putting them back where she had found them? Her initial thought had seemed like a good idea at the time. She had intended to use it as a means of forcing him to tell her about himself—an exchange of information for what he had managed to wheedle out of her. She had hoped seeing the papers on the table would throw him off guard, leave him unnerved and a little rattled so she could have the upper hand. But whatever the reason, it now seemed very foolish.

She looked up at him. His face held an impassive expression. His eyes weren’t angry, but they were intense. A new wave of anxiety washed through her body, one that put her on edge. She tried to analyze the situation. Was she in trouble? Had she stepped over some invisible line from safety into danger? Was this the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back? She swallowed in an attempt to lessen the lump in her throat.

Reece fixed her with a steady gaze. “I was released from prison three months ago, after serving the full two-year term of my sentence. I’m not on parole. My arrest and subsequent conviction was a travesty of justice. I did not do what I was convicted of. I was set up and framed.”

She glanced down at the floor. “Of course.” That really wasn’t an explanation. Didn’t everyone in prison claim to be innocent? At least that’s the way it seemed. She regained eye contact with him. “Exactly what were you convicted of doing?”

A snort of disgust escaped his throat. “What was I convicted of? I guess you could say I was convicted of trying to help a lady in distress who had retained my services as a private investigator.”

She swallowed the apprehension trying to work its way up her throat. “What does that mean?”

“It means I was not convicted of a violent crime or anything having to do with drugs, if that’s your concern. You’re not in danger from me.” He folded his arms across his chest and stared at her. “All I can do is tell you that what I’m saying is the truth. Whether you choose to believe me or not is up to you. Now, do you want to dwell on this, or do you want to know what I found at your house?” He picked up the small suitcase he had placed on the floor and held it out toward her. “Other than the items on your list.”

She took a couple of tentative steps forward and accepted the suitcase from him. “Thank you.” Now what? He admitted to having been in prison yet made no attempt to explain what had happened beyond saying he was innocent. And two years wasn’t a very long sentence. She knew that much was true because she had seen the dates on the papers. It wasn’t like having been convicted of murder or armed robbery or some other sort of violent crime.

She clenched her jaw. She was rationalizing again. He had made it very clear that he had no intention of discussing it any further. Should she push him for more information or let it drop? An uneasiness welled inside her. She knew her position was tenuous. As he had said, he was bigger and stronger than her. He had physical control of the situation. So, she had to concentrate on being more clever—at least until she had her concerns about him settled in her mind. But for now there were more immediate matters to consider.

His comment about finding something at her house had grabbed her attention and continued to circulate through her mind. Perhaps that would be a more prudent path to follow for right now. But she had to admit that she couldn’t shake the notion that there was an indefinable quality about him that went deeper than what he had shown on the outside. It said he was an honorable man despite having been in prison.

She knew exactly how vulnerable she was. She had given it a lot of thought while he was gone. Isolated in a mountain cabin with a man she had never seen before. A man who had just been released from prison. A man who could have taken advantage of her if he’d wanted to. And she had not objected when he’d kissed her—only a brief kiss, not much more than a brushing of the lips, but still a kiss. He could certainly have taken that as encouragement. There was no way she could have physically stopped him. But, she hadn’t needed to. His behavior had been above board.

Could she really trust this stranger who had served time in prison? She tried to regain her composure. Did she have any other options at the moment? She would take it one step at a time.

“You said you found something at my house?” She looked at him questioningly. “What did you find?”

He didn’t answer her. Instead, he took the digital camera from his pocket and removed the card. Next, he took the laptop computer from the desk, plugged it in and turned it on.

Curiosity got the best of her. She edged her way over to the desk to see what he was up to. “What are you doing? Why won’t you answer my question about what you found?”

“I’m about to show you. I took lots of pictures. Give me a few minutes and I’ll have them downloaded into the computer, then you can see them large size on the screen.” As the photographs were transferred from the card to the computer hard drive, he took her appointment book and PDA from his jacket and set them on the desk.

Before he brought the pictures up on the screen, he edged into the conversation he really wanted. “Tell me, do you know someone named Frank James?”

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