“You will do exactly as I say, Nicole.”

Those long, tanned fingers tightened to the precise point just short of pain. That silvery gaze darkened as Ian pulled her closer. “The issue is not up for debate.”

Nicole met his intense glare with lead in her own. “Then you’d better be prepared to stick to me like glue. To watch every move I make,” she warned. “The first time you turn your back, I’m out of here. I’ve had the same training as you, and we both know I’m very good at my job.”

Loaded silence followed that summation. A muscle flexed rhythmically in his chiseled jaw. Heat mushroomed between their almost-touching bodies. Nicole’s heart pounded so hard, she felt sure Ian could hear it threatening to burst from her chest.

“Look at me,” he demanded softly, the sound of his voice wreaking havoc with her senses.

Nicole’s breath caught when her gaze connected with his once more. Desire, hot and fierce, burned in his eyes. She blinked. That one thing was all they had ever truly shared—overwhelming attraction, soul-shattering desire. The kind that diminished all else.

Protective Custody
Debra Webb

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Debra Webb was born in Scottsboro, Alabama, to parents who taught her that anything is possible if you want it bad enough. She began writing at age nine. Eventually she met and married the man of her dreams and tried some other occupations, including selling vacuum cleaners, working in a factory, a day care center, a hospital and a department store. When her husband joined the military, they moved to Berlin, Germany, and Debra became a secretary in the commanding general’s office. By 1985 they were back in the States, and finally moved to Tennessee, to a small town where everyone knows everyone else. With the support of her husband and two beautiful daughters, Debra took up writing again, looking to mystery and movies for inspiration. In 1998, her dream of writing for Harlequin Books came true. You can write to Debra with your comments at P.O. Box 64, Huntland, Tennessee, 37345.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Nicole Reed—Someone knows her secret and that someone wants her dead. There is only one man she can trust: Ian Michaels.

Ian Michaels—Nicole betrayed him once, but he cannot turn his back on Nicole when her life is in danger.

Victoria Colby—The head of the Colby Agency.

Ric Martinez—The Colby Agency’s newest investigator. He has a lot to learn, but Ian is a good teacher.

Director Landon—Did he die protecting Nicole’s secret?

Agent Daniels—Was he murdered by the assassin stalking Nicole?

Leonna Landon—Is the grieving widow safe from her husband’s assassin?

Raymond Solomon—Is his case worth dying for?

Alex Preston & Ethan Delaney—Two of the Colby Agency’s finest.

George Reed—His toys may prove a dangerous distraction.

Trevor Sloan—The man who helped James Colby build the Colby Agency. Sloan has demons of his own to slay, but his legendary reputation lives on.

This book is dedicated to a very special lady, Mary Bauer.

Thank you, Mary, for being a cherished friend and an inspiration to us all.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Prologue

“Absolute trust is essential.” Nicole Reed’s solemn gaze settled heavily onto Victoria’s. “Both our lives will depend on my being able to trust your investigator completely. I know Ian Michaels. I can trust him.”

Victoria Colby considered that last statement for a time before she spoke. Not a single doubt existed in her mind that Ian would be the wisest choice. He was not only the Colby Agency’s most experienced investigator, he was a man of his word. With Nick Foster’s retirement, Ian had transitioned into the position of second-in-command. Victoria employed only the finest in their fields at the Colby Agency, and Ian had proven no exception during his three years of service.

“Miss Reed, I understand your need for a civilian investigator. Obviously, you can’t trust anyone in your own organization.”

“I can’t trust anyone even remotely connected to the bureau or the Witness Security Program.” Nicole sighed. “I wish that weren’t the case, but it is. There have been two attempts on my life already. My director is dead, as well as another agent I’ve worked closely with in the past. Until I get to the bottom of what’s going on, I need someone I can trust to watch my back. Your agency has an impeccable reputation, Mrs. Colby, and I trust Ian Michaels.”

Victoria relaxed into the soft leather of her chair and studied the client seated across the wide expanse of her oak desk. The woman’s features were striking. She looked as if she had just stepped off the pages of Vogue. A navy silk jacket and trousers lent an air of professionalism as well as elegance to her image. Blond hair fell around her shoulders. Wide, assessing blue eyes highlighted a face that could only be called beautiful. So, Victoria noted, this woman was the reason Ian Michaels had walked away from a promising career as a U.S. Marshal.

Victoria arched a speculative brow. “Your history with Ian may be a problem, Miss Reed.”

Nicole frowned. “I don’t understand.”

Victoria almost smiled at the look of innocence Nicole Reed could adopt. “Before I employ anyone at this agency, I research their background thoroughly. I evaluate their strong points as well as their weak points, and I familiarize myself with their past mistakes. You worked with Ian Michaels on a high-profile case just over three years ago. The Solomon case, I believe.”

Nicole’s expression grew guarded. “That’s right.”

“I’m aware of your personal involvement with Ian, and the subsequent outcome of that involvement,” Victoria added, leaving no question as to the point she intended.

“Raymond Solomon died, Mrs. Colby. We did our best to protect him, but he died anyway. End of story.”

Between the suddenly blank look in the other woman’s eyes and the emotionless tone of her voice, Victoria had her doubts as to whether the story had ended. But that wasn’t the issue here. Nicole Reed needed help, and the Colby Agency had made its reputation by providing the kind of help she required. Victoria straightened, then pressed the intercom button. “Mildred, ask Ian if he’s free. I’d like him to join this meeting.”

Nicole blinked, then looked away. Asking for Ian’s help couldn’t be easy, Victoria imagined. After all, it was Nicole who had helped end his former career. And if Victoria had Ian pegged right, which she likely did, Miss Nicole Reed had probably broken his fiercely guarded heart as well.

“You need help,” Victoria told her finally. “And I believe this agency can help you, Miss Reed.” Nicole relaxed visibly. “However, I don’t feel Ian is the proper choice considering your shared history.” Their gazes locked, Victoria’s firm, Nicole’s hesitant. “But I will allow him to make the final decision.”

Nicole lifted one shoulder in a semblance of a shrug. “Fair enough.”

The moment Ian entered the room Nicole knew she had seriously overestimated the healing value of time. His stance stiffened and those silver eyes frosted with indifference when his gaze collided with hers. His expression was exactly the same as it had been the last time Nicole had seen him, filled with unmasked contempt. No matter, he was the one person she could trust. She might be a fool for even asking for his help, but it was worth a shot. Besides, that’s the way their relationship had been from the beginning, overpowering attraction, yet bordering on enmity.

“Ian, I’m sure you remember Miss Reed,” Victoria announced, breaking the awkward silence.

His icy gaze never left Nicole’s. She didn’t miss the slight hesitation before he spoke. “Yes. Of course.”

Nicole steeled herself against the shiver generated by the low, raspy sound of his voice. Deep, sexy as hell, and laced with a hint of European flavor. Ian Michaels had the kind of voice erotic dreams were made of. Tangled sheets and long, hot nights immediately leapt to mind. From the moment they had first met, the man’s tone and speech pattern had tripped some sort of desire trigger deep inside Nicole. He only had to look into her eyes, speak, and she melted. Despite what had happened between them and the passage of three years, his effect on her remained unchanged. But she couldn’t let him get to her this time. This time she had to maintain strict control.

Nicole swallowed, then stood. She extended her hand and produced a smile. “It’s good to see you again, Ian.”

Ian’s gaze traced her body with painstaking slowness, making Nicole too warm despite her determination not to react. Then he stared, long and hard, at her hand before taking it in his own. Long, tanned fingers wrapped around hers and she fought the added reaction his touch evoked. She could not allow this. Too much depended on the next few minutes and this one man to permit emotion to override reason.

Ian acknowledged her greeting with nothing more than a ghost of a nod, then released her hand and turned to Victoria. “You wanted to see me.”

“Yes. Please, have a seat.” Victoria indicated the remaining chair in front of her desk.

Seemingly from some faraway place, Nicole listened as Victoria recounted their earlier discussion, the words barely registering. Nicole could not take her eyes off the man now seated next to her. Still tall and amazingly handsome. Still a commanding presence that stole her breath. He wore his hair longer now, she noted with reluctant admiration, its dark length curling at his nape. Nicole almost smiled as her greedy gaze swept over his body. Though the suit was more elegant now, probably Armani, the color was the same. Black. Ian always wore black. And he would certainly be as good at his job today as he had been three years ago. No fugitive ever eluded him for long. No witness ever failed to make it to court or to safety when Ian was assigned the case.

Ian Michaels never failed. That’s why he had been assigned to the Solomon case three years ago.

And that’s the reason Nicole had received her assignment as well. To see that Ian failed in his.

Now, with the memory of betrayal still screaming between them, she had come to ask Ian for help. There was no one else she could trust. Nicole held her breath as she waited for him to respond to the request that he handle her case personally.

“I’m sure you’ll be pleased with the investigator Victoria assigns to your case,” he said coolly, his icy gaze once more connecting with Nicole’s. “But it won’t be me.”

“YOU’RE COMFORTABLE with your decision then?”

“Yes.” Ian didn’t turn around. He knew Victoria was disappointed in him, but right now he didn’t care. All he wanted to do was watch Nicole storm across the parking lot four stories below. She had left Victoria’s office as if his refusal to help her didn’t matter, but he knew better. He had seen the uncertainty, then the defeat flicker in her blue eyes. Whatever her current situation, she considered Ian’s refusal to help her a significant loss. Ian almost smiled. However, it didn’t come close to evening the score.

“You’re not concerned with her refusal to work with Alex?” Victoria again interrupted his moment of savoring victory with another dig at his already chafed conscience.

“Why should I be?” Ian clenched his jaw at the denial that crowded his throat. He no longer gave one damn about Nicole Reed. No matter that his traitorous body had reacted as if three years had not passed…as if Nicole had not already cost him dearly. Had she really despised him enough to purposely get in the way of his work? Had her own ambition meant more to her than a man’s life? Ian would likely never know the answers to those questions. Did it even matter? No. He couldn’t change the past. It was over, done with. Solomon was dead.

“Nicole can take care of herself,” he said in answer to Victoria’s question. His voice sounded harsh to his own ears. Reacting on emotion was not something Ian allowed, but he hadn’t been able to help himself today.

The squeak of leather alerted Ian when Victoria stood. She had more to say on the issue, of that he felt certain. Three near-silent steps later and she was at his side watching Nicole’s determined march toward whatever vehicle she had arrived in.

“I know very little about what happened between the two of you, but I do know a woman in trouble when I see one.”

Ian kept his gaze glued to that mane of long blond hair fluttering in the September breeze behind Nicole. How could the mere sight of her still make him ache with need? Even knowing what he knew. Why in hell would Nicole come to him for help? She had to know he would refuse. She had to be desperate.

Victoria had made the decision his, and he had decided. Nicole’s subsequent refusal to work with another investigator was not his problem, Ian reminded himself as that annoyingly restless sensation twisted inside him. The feeling was all too familiar, but he intended to ignore his instincts this time. Nicole was on her own.

“Perhaps she’ll change her mind,” Victoria suggested.

“She won’t,” he murmured. A thought spoken. Nicole had entirely too much pride. The fact that she had come to him at all spoke volumes about her proximity to the edge. But she definitely would not come crawling back for what she would consider second best, and begging had never been her style. Remorse trickled through him before he could stop it. He knew her too well.

“Well, then, I hope you’re right.” Victoria folded her arms over her chest. “I hope she can take care of herself.”

“I stopped caring one way or another a long time ago,” he affirmed aloud. Who was he trying to convince? he wondered with self-disgust. Victoria or himself?

As if to refute his words an earthshaking explosion rattled the glass in front of his face. Debris from what used to be an automobile flew in a dozen directions. Black smoke mushroomed skyward as flames licked the remaining, mutilated frame. Ian’s heart lurched. He frantically scanned the parking lot. Panicked pedestrians rushed toward the building for cover. He clutched the edge of the windowsill as his heart stilled in his chest.

Nicole! Where was Nicole?

Chapter One

The ground trembled beneath Nicole’s feet. An invisible wall slammed into her face, shoving her backwards until the pavement stopped her. Her head hurt. Badly.

Nicole struggled to open her eyes…to fight the vortex of thick, heavy darkness sucking her toward oblivion. She had to wake up. To run from the danger! But her body refused to cooperate. She couldn’t move…couldn’t scream.

Nicole heard herself groan, the sound giving her hope that she wasn’t dead after all. Pain exploded inside her head. She clung to the pain. You had to be alive to feel pain. She felt herself move, a simple side-to-side motion of her head, which initiated another burst of fiery pain at the back of her skull. She groaned again. Louder this time.

“You’re safe, Nicole.”

She stilled. That voice…

Ian. Her lids fluttered open and her eyes labored with the effort to focus in the near-darkness. The face that had invaded her dreams for more than three years finally came into focus.

“Ian?”

“It’s okay,” he said soothingly.

Nicole closed her eyes and savored the erotic sound of his voice. Memories flooded her mind. The explosion. Hitting the ground. And then Ian was there…taking care of her. A weary sigh eased past her lips, her body aching even with that tiny exertion. He had insisted on having her examined at the ER, then he had taken her back to his place. She remembered falling into an exhausted sleep in his arms.

“My head hurts.” She opened her eyes, and her gaze connected with his. Those emotionless gray eyes gave nothing away.

“I know.” With gentle fingers, he brushed a wisp of hair from her face. “I’m sorry.”

Ian’s refusal to accept her case suddenly hit with the same impact as that invisible wall. “Why are you doing this?” Nicole sat straight up with the surge of adrenaline that accompanied that thought. Pain twisted inside her head. She rubbed at the tender spot on the back of her scalp.

“You were badly shaken. The doctor said you shouldn’t be alone,” he offered quietly.

Bracing her hands behind her to maintain her upright position, Nicole leveled her gaze on his. “The explosion?”

“Your rental car apparently.” He searched her eyes. “I’ve taken care of things with the police. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

This time had been too close. Nicole clenched her teeth and forced herself to breathe deeply and slowly. She needed to be calm—to think. She surveyed the darkened room. Ian’s bedroom. His scent, so familiar, suddenly enveloped her. That clean, subtle musky scent that was his alone. That stirred her blood even under current circumstances.

His bed. She was in his bed—with him hovering over her. Why had she let him bring her here? He wasn’t going to help her. He had made that point quite clear. Anger shot through her veins, sending her heart back into double time.

“I have to get out of here.” Nicole scrambled from beneath the covers. She wasn’t safe here. She wasn’t safe anywhere. She had to run as fast as she could.

“We need to talk.”

Instinctively Nicole rolled to the other side of the bed, out of his reach. She jumped to her feet and immediately regretted both moves. The insistent throb inside her skull erupted with a vengeance, threatening her unsteady legs. Not quite a concussion, the doctor had said she would be fine. She had been very lucky to only be close enough for the force of the blast to knock her to the ground. Nicole squeezed her eyes shut and focused on blocking out the pain. There was too much to be done. No time to waste. She had to reschedule her flight. She had a witness to relocate and protect. And she couldn’t trust the regular channels to handle it. Someone wanted her and her witness dead. How had the bastard tracked her to Chicago? She had been so careful. No mistakes! No one knew her location.

No, that wasn’t true, Nicole realized grimly, because he had found her. And he would find her again. She needed her things. Did she dare go back to the hotel and get the few items she had brought with her? She would need a change of clothes.

Clothes.

Nicole stared down at herself. The shimmering glow of moonlight from a nearby window confirmed her sudden realization. Her clothes were gone. She wore nothing but her skimpy, lacy bra and matching blue panties.

“Where the hell are my clothes?” Nicole looked up to find Ian towering over her, his tall, dark frame almost lost in the shadows. Something, some emotion flitted across his features too quickly for Nicole to analyze, and then that mask of iron control fell back into place.

“I thought you would be more comfortable like this.” His gaze moved slowly over her. “I sent your clothes to be cleaned,” he added in that maddeningly calm way of his.

That tone. That controlling, no-arguments-tolerated tone. He had no intention of working with her, yet he had taken charge of the game strategy. She was no different than one of his fugitives. He would handle the situation until he could wash his hands of her. That was his way. Ian Michaels always did the right thing. He never deviated from the straight and narrow—never failed.

Except once.

And then he had turned his back on her as if nothing had happened between them. As if what they had shared hadn’t mattered in the final scheme of things. He hadn’t given her the benefit of the doubt. Hadn’t waited around for her to explain. Ian had simply walked away. From her. From everything.

Because she had betrayed him. The fact that she had only been doing her job was of no consequence—even if she had been able to tell him the truth. Nothing she could have said or done would have altered his opinion of her. If the man were capable of emotion he might display some sort of reaction. Anger, pain, remorse, something. Nicole almost laughed out loud. But this was Ian Michaels. She glowered at him. He didn’t allow himself to feel. Hadn’t she learned that three years ago? Hadn’t she learned anything at all?

“Where are my clothes?” she repeated with all the force she could marshal. She should have known better than to come to him. Why would he care if she lived or died? And how could she blame him?

“I’ve already answered that question.”

“This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have wasted my time.” Nicole attempted to brush past him only to be halted by his half step to the right.

“You need to tell me what’s going on, Nicole,” he argued quietly.

“Get out of my way, Michaels.” Nicole darted to his left. Ian moved more quickly, effectively blocking her once more.

His unreadable gaze locked on hers. A hint of a smile curled his irritatingly full lips. “You have no clothes, no transportation, no money. How do you propose to leave?”

He had her clothes and her bag. Another rush of anger flooded Nicole. She stood before him exposed, emotionally as well as physically. She glared into his handsome face, his perfectly controlled emotions angering her all the more. She manufactured a caustic smile of her own. “Don’t sweat it, Michaels. I’m sure I can get a ride.” Nicole ran the fingers of both hands through her hair, allowing the long strands to drift down over her shoulders. “In fact,” she added tartly, ignoring the protest of her sore muscles, “if push comes to shove, I feel certain I can earn myself some fast cash.” Not that she would ever resort to what she was suggesting, but he didn’t have to know that, and if it hit the mark… “You don’t need to worry about me at all. I can take care of myself.”

Nicole knew she would not soon forget the collection of emotions that danced across his handsome face. But it was anger that ultimately took center stage and held his features captive. The uncharacteristic outward display fascinated her for about two seconds then trepidation kicked in. Before she could take a step back, he grabbed her by both arms.

“You will do exactly as I say, Nicole.” Those long, tanned fingers tightened to the precise point just short of pain. That silvery gaze darkened as he pulled her closer to him. “The issue is not up for debate.”

Nicole met his intense glare with lead in her own. “Then you’d better be prepared to stick to me like glue. To watch every move I make,” she warned. “The first time you turn your back I’m out of here. I’ve had the same training as you, Michaels, and we both know I’m very good at my job.”

Loaded silence followed that summation. A muscle flexed rhythmically in his chiseled jaw. Heat mushroomed between their almost-touching bodies. Nicole’s heart pounded so hard she felt sure Ian could hear it threatening to burst from her chest. To her utter frustration, her gaze drifted to his lips. She licked her own, her mind immediately conjuring up his taste.

“Look at me,” he demanded softly, the sound of his voice wreaking havoc with her senses.

Nicole’s breath caught when her gaze connected with his once more. Desire, hot and fierce, burned in his eyes. She blinked. That one thing was all they had ever truly shared—overwhelming attraction, soul-shattering desire. The kind that diminished all else. “What do you want from me?” she demanded. Nicole searched his eyes for an answer beyond the heat and memory that connected them body and soul.

“When that car exploded and I couldn’t see you, I thought…” He released her arms only to gently cup her face in his hands. His thumb glided across her cheek, sending shivers down her spine. The breath of his reluctant sigh whispered across her lips. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Nicole steeled herself against what she wanted to feel. Just words. That’s all they were. She couldn’t trust Ian with her heart any more than she could trust her life to the bastard who was trying to kill her. She understood Ian’s probable motivation—revenge. Would he take this opportunity to do to her what she had done to him three years ago? If he only knew…

Ruthlessly squashing the tiny spark of hope his words elicited, Nicole encircled his wrists with trembling fingers and attempted to remove his hands from her face.

Ian swallowed…hard, the play of muscle beneath tanned skin doing strange things to her stomach. “I can’t lose you again,” he murmured.

“You never had me,” she assured him with forced contempt.

He laughed softly and raised one dark brow in mock speculation. “I can recall having you at least four times, Nicole.” That eclectic accent he had gained from growing up in half a dozen European countries thickened as his voice lowered to a more seductive level. His fingers slid around her neck and urged her closer still, his thumbs working a sensuous kind of magic. “I remember every detail of every moment we spent together. Each time we made love proved more intense than the last. Don’t try to tell me you’ve forgotten.”

He pressed a silky kiss to her cheek, Nicole shivered as much from his words as from his kiss. “Stop,” she whispered hoarsely.

He stopped but didn’t pull away. His lips remained only a hairbreadth from her skin. “You want me to stop?”

“Yes,” she lied. Nicole didn’t have to look to know he smiled, she felt it. Electricity crackled between their heated bodies.

“And if I refuse?”

Nicole closed her eyes and released a shuddering breath. She shouldn’t have come to him. Did she really expect to be able to spend five minutes with the man and not want him? Only a few hours ago she had eluded death for the third time in less than two weeks. And right now all she could think about was how it would feel to make love with Ian again. To have him touch her in that slow, thorough manner of his. To have him whisper sweet things to her in that lightly accented voice. To make him believe that she hadn’t meant to hurt him three years ago—that she had only been doing her job.

What if she had died today?

Nicole blinked. She would never have had the opportunity to make things right with Ian. She lifted her gaze to his, watched the renewed desire turn those silvery depths to a deeper, gunmetal gray. One last night. They could have one last night together and then she would disappear from his life forever. She would face whatever the future held for her…alone. If death awaited, Nicole decided she would just have her taste of heaven now.

She moistened her lips and smiled up at him. “Well,” she said languorously as she began to slowly unbutton his shirt. “I suppose that leaves me with no choice.” Nicole slid her hands inside and over his muscled chest, the feel of that sculpted terrain making her weak with want. How she had missed him. No man would ever be able to make her feel the way Ian had. Would this thing between them still be as it once was—even after what she had done to him? Nicole cleared her mind. She didn’t want to think…she wanted to feel. To touch…to forget.

He remained absolutely still as she plunged her fingers into his long, dark hair and pulled his head down to hers. She nipped his lower lip with her teeth, then traced that sexy cleft in his chin with her tongue. He moved then. His hands slid over her shoulders and down her back, caressing, arousing her naked flesh. And then his mouth captured hers.

His kiss was slow, thorough, tantalizing, with a kind of erotic finesse only Ian possessed. Her heart thudding with anticipation, Nicole watched the intent expression on his face as he deepened the kiss. Then her eyes closed with the ecstasy she could no longer deny. Desire burst inside her like shattering glass, sending tiny shards of heat throughout her. Her head no longer hurt, her muscles no longer complained of their bruising. All conscious thought vanished. Ian’s masterful hands squeezed her bottom, then pulled her against his thick arousal. Nicole shuddered with the need now gripping every fiber of her being.

She wanted his bare skin against hers—now. Nicole jerked his shirt open, scattering the remaining buttons across the lush carpet. She reveled in the feel of his strong back as she slid the material down, then pressed her body to his. Smooth and hot. His skin singed hers as their bodies melded. Ian groaned his approval deep in his throat, the sound urging Nicole’s own frenzied desire. She tugged his shirt from his slacks, then slowly peeled it off his body.

He lifted her against him and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his lean waist. His mouth continued to torture hers, his tongue delving inside, tasting, tempting, then retreating. That slow in-and-out pace foreshadowing what she knew would come. Her legs tightened around him, pressing the moist heat between her thighs more firmly into his hardened length. This was what she had fantasized about a thousand times in the last three years.

Ian carried her to the bed and lowered her gently onto the tangled sheets. His body aligned over hers, he looked down at her, those amazing gray eyes analyzing her too closely. Nicole struggled to read the emotions cluttering his face. Sadness, maybe, or pain…almost. Had he missed her half as much as she had missed him? Did he want her as she wanted him?

“You do have a choice,” he said softly.

Nicole tried one last time to decipher that distant look in his eyes, but to no avail. “I know,” she whispered, then smiled. “I choose this.” She unbuttoned his fly, then lowered the zipper. His eyes closed on a tortured groan as she eased his slacks and briefs over his hips, then caressed him intimately. Her own need suddenly careened out of control. Instinctively her body arched against his, the resulting friction making her cry out with want. One solid yank was all it took for Ian to relieve her of the tiny, strappy panties.

And then he was inside her, filling her, turning her world upside down. Their movements turned frantic, out of control. His powerful thrusts propelled Nicole closer and closer to the climax that had begun the moment he touched her. Ian kissed her again, hard and fast. He murmured desperate words in a language she didn’t understand. She gripped his broad shoulders, trying to hold on longer…to make it last. But she couldn’t, one more thrust and she tumbled over the edge. Heat and light and pleasure cascaded over her, swirled inside her. Ian followed close behind, driving into her one last time.

His taut body relaxed, his forehead rested against hers, their ragged breathing the only sound in the room. “You should rest now.” He brushed a soft kiss across her lips. “I’ll keep you safe.”

Nicole nodded, suddenly feeling totally exhausted all over again. “I trust you, Ian,” she murmured, her gaze holding his. “I trust you with my life.”

“Sleep, Nicole,” he insisted gently. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

IAN PARTED the blinds and checked the parking area outside his town house once more. Still no sign of Martinez. He paused to listen for Nicole. The sound of water spraying in the shower continued. Good. He wanted her occupied until after Martinez arrived.

He had spent the entire night watching Nicole sleep, memorizing each delicate feature of her sweet face. She was as beautiful as ever. Her body slender and feminine, yet toned and amazingly strong. Ian swallowed back the emotions he knew he should not feel. Merely touching Nicole aroused him to the point of insanity. The sudden image of water sluicing over all that satiny skin made his groin tighten. He closed his eyes against the memory of her scent, her taste. Nicole did things to him…made him feel things he could not begin to describe. Ian sighed and shook his head slowly from side to side. This could not be.

He was a fool.

His foolishness had cost a life once before, he refused to risk a repeat of that mistake. Ian plowed his fingers through his hair and crossed the room once more, silently cursing his compunction every step of the way. He had paced this room for the past ten minutes.

Guilt gnawed at him for feigning sleep when Nicole had awakened this morning. She had kissed him tenderly on the cheek, then slipped quietly into the bathroom to shower. And what had he done? He had immediately called Martinez and hastily dressed. Nicole would not be happy when he informed her of his plan. But her displeasure was of no consequence in the matter. Ian understood what had to be done. He knew no more now regarding her case than he had known yesterday when she had left Victoria’s office. But he did know with complete certainty that he could not stay objective where Nicole was concerned. And her survival depended on the kind of objectivity and focus he lost all sight of in her presence.

The moment he had set eyes on her in Victoria’s office, Ian had experienced a sense of rage unparalleled by anything he had ever known before. She was the last person on the planet he would have helped do anything. Or so he’d thought. When that car had exploded, and he hadn’t been sure if she were dead or alive, the truth had hit him like a bullet between the eyes. He still had deep feelings for Nicole. The past changed nothing. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her forever.

But, after last night, Ian realized that he could not determine the threat to her safety with her so close. It was true three years ago and it was still true today: when he was with Nicole, he could not maintain the necessary focus required to perform his mission. Taking that kind of risk was out of the question. She would simply have to go into hiding with Martinez while Ian did what had to be done.

The issue was closed in his opinion. Nicole would do exactly as he instructed. He set his jaw determinedly.

Or else.

The anticipated knock came just as Ian turned to retrace his path across the room. He repositioned the Glock tucked into his waistband at the small of his back, then made his way to the door. He breathed a sigh of relief when he checked the peephole and found Martinez on the other side. Finally. Ian opened the door only wide enough for Martinez to enter, and quickly closed it behind him.

“Thanks for coming on short notice.”

“No problem, man.” Martinez, the Colby Agency’s newest investigator, scanned the room. “Nice place.”

Ian nodded. He wasn’t accustomed to having visitors in his home, but there was no getting around it this time. The spray of water in the other room stopped. Ian glanced in the direction of the bedroom door, Nicole would appear at any moment. He was out of time. Without preamble, he related the details of her case as he knew them to Martinez.

“Good morning.”

At the sound of Nicole’s voice Ian turned slowly to face her. He did not relish the next few minutes. “Good morning,” he returned with a tight smile. An unfamiliar sensation squeezed his chest at how vulnerable she looked in an old pair of his sweats, her long blond hair still damp from her shower.

Her gaze darted from Ian to the other man, then narrowed with suspicion. “I didn’t know you had company,” she said stiffly.

Ian glanced at the man standing beside him. “This is Ric Martinez.” Ian leveled his gaze on Nicole and steeled himself for her fury. “He will be keeping you company at one of our safe houses until the investigation is over.”

Pain, then anger stole across her features. She gave a jerky nod. “I see.”

Ian took the four steps that separated them. “It would be a conflict of interest for us to work together,” he explained quietly.

Nicole lifted her defiant chin and glared at him. “Whose interest, yours or mine?”

Irritation flared. “It would be in both our best interests for you to cooperate with Martinez.” He matched her insolent expression. “And that’s what you’re going to do.”

She shoved a handful of hair behind her ear, the fight-or-flight urge already evident in her posture. “Last time I checked this was still a free country.”

Ian snagged her arm when she would have pushed past him. “If the story you told Victoria is true, then walking away from our help would be a serious mistake. Someone has tried to kill you three times already, Nicole. You’re not leaving alone.”

She glowered first at his offending hand, then at him. “Just try and stop me, Michaels.”

His grip tightened. “Don’t be a fool, Nicole.”

“Miss Reed, I think maybe you should listen to him,” Martinez suggested soberly.

Her disdainful glare flicked to Martinez. “This isn’t your fight.”

He held up his hands stop-sign fashion and backed off. “Whatever you say, lady.”

Ian pulled her closer to him, an unspoken demand for her full attention. “You know the rules of survival as well as I do,” he ground out.

“Why don’t you tell me about the rules, Michaels.” She struggled against his hold, but he tightened his grip, angering her all the more. “What was last night all about, huh? Survival or retribution?”

One beat turned to five, the tension growing thicker with each. “You had a choice, you decided,” he reminded coldly. “I have a choice this morning, and I have decided.”

“Go to hell.”

“I’ve been there, Nicole. Don’t you remember?” Watching Solomon die and knowing he was responsible had been pure hell for Ian.

She blinked, but not before he got a glimpse of the regret in those wide blue eyes. Nicole sighed defeatedly. “Fine,” she relented, then lifted a repentant gaze to his. “I suppose you know what you’re doing, Ian. And I—” She shrugged halfheartedly. “I’m just totally confused.”

Ian relaxed his brutal grip on her arm and exhaled his own burst of relief. “Good. Martinez will stick close to you and I’ll work the investigation.”

“And what will I be doing?”

“You’ll lie low until we know exactly what’s going on. That’s standard operating procedure. You know the drill.”

Nicole nodded. “Sounds as if you have everything covered.”

Ian held her gaze, urging her to understand. “I will do whatever it takes to neutralize the threat to you, Nicole.”

“Well.” She smiled, her lips trembling with the effort. “I guess we should get going then.” She glanced in Martinez’s direction. “No point dragging this out.”

“You’ll be safe as long as you do exactly as I tell you,” Ian assured her.

She paused and turned back to him. That crystal-blue gaze softened, grew misty. “No kiss good-bye?”

Ian’s chest constricted with regret and something else he refused to acknowledge. Before he could stop himself, his hands went immediately to the face permanently etched in his memory. The feel of her skin ripped him apart inside. How could he let her out of his sight? But, how could he permit this thing between them to get in the way of what had to be done?

As if in slow motion, he lowered his head, his mouth yearning to mate with hers. His eyes closed at the first brush of their lips. Nicole’s arms slid beneath his suit jacket, around his waist, caressing him as she had last night…as she had in his dreams so many times.

She had the weapon in her hand two endless seconds before his body accepted the command to react. Nicole backed away from him, her expert aim shifting quickly to Martinez. “Get your hands up where I can see them,” she demanded sharply.

“Think, Nicole,” Ian suggested calmly, while mentally cursing himself for the idiot he was. He never made mistakes like this. Only with Nicole. “You came to me for help. How can we help you if you won’t let us?”

“Just yesterday you refused to help me. Now I’ve decided I don’t need your brand of help, thank you very much.” She moved cautiously toward the door, skillfully alternating her focus between him and Martinez. “Your keys,” she said to Martinez when she reached the door.

He shrugged as if he didn’t understand, his olive skin a good deal paler than when he arrived.

“Your car keys. Give me your car keys,” she ground out impatiently.

“Okay, lady, just stay cool. My brother is going to kill me. That Explorer’s brand new.” Martinez reached for his pocket with his right hand.

“Wait! Hold your hands up high and turn all the way around,” Nicole instructed curtly.

Martinez glanced uneasily at Ian. Ian nodded for him to do as she said. Martinez turned around slowly, his hands held high. The form-fitting muscle shirt, which he wore tucked into his jeans left no doubt that the man was unarmed. Ian swore silently. He should have warned Martinez to be fully prepared. Not that it would have done any good since Ian obviously had been ill-prepared himself.

“Now give me those keys—with your left hand,” Nicole ordered.

Martinez complied without hesitation.

Nicole reached behind her and opened the door. “Nobody moves until I’m out of here. Nobody.” She allowed Ian one final look before she stepped across the threshold and slammed the door behind her.

Ian hissed a four-letter word. How in the hell had he fallen for that old trick?

“Hey man, are we going after her or what?” Martinez asked uncertainly.

“Go out the back. See if you can get around behind her to cut her off,” Ian told him roughly as he stormed across the room. Dammit, the woman was going to get herself killed. She knew better. Nicole knew the code of survival and protection. So far she had done nothing but act like a frightened civilian, breaking every rule.

Ian cursed again when he stepped into the early-morning sun. Fortunately it was Saturday and his neighbors would likely still be in bed at this hour. He quickly scanned the seemingly deserted street. But his neighbors weren’t the concern at the moment. He shook his head in disgust. Nicole was a damned open target standing there fumbling with Martinez’s keys. His gut clenched.

“At this rate you won’t make it very far, Nicole.” Ian took the steps two at a time.

Nicole’s head jerked up. Instantly, she focused a bead on him with her left hand, while continuing to try and manipulate the keys with her right. “Stop right there, Michaels.”

“I suppose you’re going to shoot me if I don’t.”

Her head came up again. Ian smiled when her resolve visibly faltered. “I didn’t think so,” he concluded aloud, his supreme annoyance making his voice sound more lethal than he had intended.

He walked right up to her, the muzzle of the Glock pressed into his chest. “Give me the weapon.”

“No way. I don’t need any help,” she said tightly, her eyes suspiciously bright. “I decided last night that I wasn’t going to involve anyone else in my problems.”

“Was that before or after we made love?” Ian held her gaze. His entire being reacted to the uncharacteristic fear he saw in her eyes.

“It’ll be better this way.” She drew in a shaky breath, but firmed her grip on the Glock. “Now get the hell away from me, Michaels. People are dropping like flies around me. First my director, then Daniels.”

“No.”

“Now who’s being the fool?” Lowering her weapon, Nicole jerked the vehicle door open and slid behind the wheel. “Goodbye, Ian.”

Without warning, glass shattered, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet street. Fragments from the truck window sprayed in Ian’s direction. Simultaneously, something propelled him back a step, the impact and burn clicking an instant recognition in his brain and sending him diving for cover. Thankfully Nicole was in the vehicle. He hoped like hell she stayed put. Ian hit the ground. A stab of pain knifed through his left shoulder and radiated down his arm.

The squeal of tires and the roar of an engine pierced the still morning air. Then the report of Ian’s Glock, three shots in rapid succession, echoed. Nicole was returning fire. Ian swore savagely and pushed to his feet. Nicole whipped around and quickly surveyed him.

“Where are you hit?” Worry traced lines across her face, her gaze darted back to his left shoulder. “Damn,” she breathed. Gingerly she pushed his jacket away to view the damage.

“It’s nothing.”

She gave him a look. “Yeah, right.”

Ian gritted his teeth when she unbuttoned his shirt partway and pulled it from the wound. He winced inwardly. “I am now fully convinced that you’re trying to get yourself killed, Nicole. Why didn’t you stay in the truck?”

“Shut up, Michaels.” She grimaced. “You need a doctor.”

“I got a partial on the license plate,” Martinez reported breathlessly as he skidded to a stop next to Nicole.

“We have to get Ian to a hospital.” She tugged him toward the passenger-side door of Martinez’s borrowed truck as she spoke.

Ian manacled her right wrist and halted her forward movement. “I’ll take this.” Before she could protest he relieved her of the Glock, then tucked it into his waistband beneath his jacket. “And don’t even think about leaving my sight.”

“Fine,” she snapped, her eyes shooting daggers at him. “As long as you get in the damned vehicle.”

Martinez quickly brushed the glass from the driver’s seat and dropped behind the wheel. “My brother is definitely going to kill me,” he muttered.

“Drive, Martinez,” Nicole ordered as she slid in next to him, “or he won’t get the chance.”

Chapter Two

Blood…

Oh God.

Nauseated and feeling more than a little faint, Nicole stared down at her bloodstained hands. This was by no means her first time to exchange gunfire with a hostile, nor was it her first up-close encounter with spilled blood.

But this was Ian’s blood.

The hospital’s medicinal smell didn’t help. Nicole swiped her palms against the baggy gray sweatshirt she wore. She squeezed her hands into tight fists and dropped them to her sides. Moistening her dry lips and careful not to make eye contact, she slowly lifted her gaze to the man seated on the examining table. He sat on the very edge, poised, intent, as if anticipating the need to make a tactical move at any given moment. His torn and bloody shirt lay on the exam table behind him, the damaged suit jacket next to it. Nicole closed her eyes against the panic that still threatened to suffocate her each time she relived those few seconds between the sound of the gunshot and the moment she confirmed with her own eyes that Ian wasn’t mortally wounded.

The sound of Ian’s smoky voice as he answered some question the doctor asked dragged Nicole back to the here and now. Young and obviously nervous, the doctor pulled another suture through the nasty wound on Ian’s shoulder. He kept muttering something about the injury looking like a gunshot wound to him. Poor guy, Nicole thought to herself, he had to be an intern. Otherwise Martinez would never have had him even half believing that idiotic story about Ian’s falling into a window.

Ignoring the doctor’s concerns, Ian did nothing to lessen the thick tension. His dark, brooding presence would unnerve a war-zone veteran. He had refused the offer of pain medication, and, in that arrogant, dangerous tone of his, had ordered the doctor to do what he had to do as quickly as possible. The wound wasn’t so bad, Nicole told herself again. Just a nasty slash through skin and muscle. Had the angle been slightly different Ian might be in surgery now—or worse.

Shuddering with a chill that went bone-deep, Nicole wrapped her arms around her middle. Ian could have been killed. And it was her fault. She should never have gotten him mixed up in this. How could she drag him into her problems with no regard for his safety? Had she been so absorbed in saving her own skin that she hadn’t thought through the consequences of her actions? Nicole let go a heavy breath. She closed her eyes and willed the mixture of fear and frustration to retreat. Ian was going to be fine, she told herself again. He was safe.

And she was leaving.

She could do this alone. She was a highly trained federal agent. All she had to do was make sure she wasn’t followed when she made live contact with her witness. She didn’t need Ian. Denial rushed through her at that thought. She needed him all right, but not in the way she should.

Suddenly, more from some innate need than true courage, she met Ian’s gaze for the first time since their arrival at the ER. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her since they’d entered the examining room. It wasn’t necessary for her to look to confirm her suspicions, she could feel his gaze on her. Steady and relentless, those piercing gray eyes held hers even now, then reached past her defenses and touched her.

Nicole trembled with reaction. The only indication that Ian felt anything at all was the flexing of that muscle in his rigid jaw. He was probably just annoyed that her stupidity had got him shot. Whatever he was feeling, one thing was certain, Ian Michaels was planning his next move. Nicole knew his methods as well as she knew her own. No matter that he was surely in serious pain, Ian would develop a plan, and then a backup plan for that. Analyzing her current emotional state would be part of his strategy. He read her too easily. Nicole looked away. Why give him any more ammunition?

A cell phone chirped, startling Nicole. She took a slow, deep breath and ran a shaky hand through her hair. She was seriously rattled. Of course, dancing with death would do that, she reminded herself. Next to her, Martinez murmured responses to his caller.

“It’s for you,” he announced, offering Ian the compact phone. “It’s Victoria.”

Ian accepted the phone, then placed it on the examining table next to him. Nicole knew he was still watching her, so she kept her gaze purposely averted from his. He reached beneath his jacket lying on the table beside him and retrieved his weapon. He handed the Glock, butt first, to Martinez.

“Don’t take your eyes off her,” he warned. “If she makes a move for the door, use it.”

The doctor made an odd, choking sound of disbelief. “Did I see a badge? Are you gentlemen police officers? If this is a gunshot wound—”

Indignation exploded inside Nicole. “Screw you, Michaels,” she hissed, cutting off the doctor. Those tender emotions she had felt only moments ago evaporated instantly.

Ian held her gaze for one long beat. “I believe you’ve already taken care of that.”

“You bas—”

“Miss Reed,” Martinez interrupted firmly. “I’d like you to have a seat. Please,” he added quickly as he tucked the weapon into his waistband.

“I…I really need you to be still,” the doctor said hesitantly, his gaze darting to the weapon at Martinez’s waist, then back to Ian. “I can’t do this properly unless—”

Ian waved him off. “In a moment.” His formidable focus remained fixed on Nicole, watching, waiting for her reaction to Martinez’s request.

One second lapsed to five before Nicole gave in and plopped onto the molded-plastic, institutional-orange chair. Knowing Ian, he would have sat there and bled to death before relenting. Still stinging from his remark, she mentally recited every vile word in her vocabulary and Ian’s connection to each. Martinez stationed himself between her and the door. Did Ian really believe he could prevent her from leaving whenever she got good and ready to go? Nicole smiled to herself. She would just see about that.

Obviously satisfied that he had won, he picked up the cell phone and turned his attention to Victoria. “Yes.” He paused, listening. “No, I’m fine. There’s no need for you to rush back. I have everything under control.” Another brief pause. “Yes, I’ll do that.” He flipped the mouthpiece closed and tossed the phone back to Martinez.

“I do have other patients, Mr. Michaels,” the doctor said pointedly, obviously finally finding his courage. Or perhaps just anxious to rid himself of present company.

“Of course.” Ian leveled one final warning glare on Nicole.

She produced an exaggerated smile, then, while he watched so intently, she silently mouthed a most descriptive adjective—one that fit Ian perfectly in her opinion. The promise of a smile tilted one side of his usually grim mouth, making her pulse react. Nicole released a weary sigh and for the first time today had the presence of mind to thank God that they were both safe.

But how long would either of them stay that way?

The door suddenly swung open and Ian’s attention jerked toward the intruder.

“We’ve got another bleeder, Doctor,” an efficient-looking nurse called from the doorway. Her gaze immediately flew to Martinez, and then the weapon at his waist before he could turn away. “A seventeen-year-old with a knife wound to the right forearm,” she added slowly, her eyes widening with fear.

The doctor spared her a brief glance. “Prep him, I’ll be right there. Almost finished here,” he said distractedly. The nurse managed a smile in Ian’s direction before she disappeared into the hall. The wide door closed soundlessly behind her.

Ian gave Martinez a discreet nod, then angled his head toward the door in silent instruction. No doubt, Ian reasoned, that nurse was at the desk calling the police at this very moment. When the police arrived, there would be confusion, distraction. Too much opportunity for Nicole to give them the slip. Not to mention he didn’t want her position with the bureau brought to the attention of the locals.

“Let’s take a walk, Miss Reed,” Martinez suggested.

Nicole looked him up and down as if he’d just suggested something lewd. “I don’t think so, Martinez.”

“Do as he says, Nicole,” Ian ordered quietly. She shot him a drop-dead look, then heaved an impatient sigh before pushing to her feet. Reluctantly she followed Martinez out the door.

“Hold still just a little longer, Mr. Michaels.” The doctor paused, surveying Ian with a look of concern. “Now that we’re alone, are you sure you don’t want something for the pain? That local can’t be doing much for you.”

“I’m fine.”

The doctor shrugged and returned to the business at hand. Ian needed his head clear. He would have to deal with the police, which wouldn’t be that difficult. Victoria had a great many influential connections. Known for following the rules and cooperating, Colby Agency investigators rarely got any flack from the local authorities. Maybe this time Ian was stretching the rules, but that couldn’t be helped. He set his jaw hard against a particularly fierce stab of pain.

Nicole was anything but simple. Dealing with her required Ian’s full command of all his senses. His strategy was as straightforward as you could get. First he planned to get the truth out of her—one way or another. She knew a lot more about the threat to her life than she was telling, of that Ian felt certain. Secondly, he intended to stash her away someplace safe while he handled the situation.

Then, he would walk away and never look back. Ian refused to acknowledge the protest that twisted inside him. He couldn’t deny what he felt for Nicole. The emotions were fierce, overpowering. But he couldn’t trust her. She had betrayed him before, what was to prevent her from doing it again? Ian almost smiled at the memory of her reaction to his comment earlier. He closed his eyes and allowed Nicole’s image to envelop him. All attitude and sass on the outside, but soft and vulnerable on the inside, Nicole was the one woman who could make him lose control. She held a power over him that defied all else. Ian blinked away the vision. But he wasn’t a masochist at heart, nor was he without pride. He had allowed that mistake once.

Nicole cared only about her career. She was attracted to Ian he knew, but that was all. Her complete allegiance lay with the cloak-and-dagger stuff that epitomized shadow operations. Ian bit back a laugh at the thought of Nicole as someone’s wife. But the rush of jealousy that surged through him was no laughing matter. Ian frowned and quickly reined in his wayward thoughts. No more, he determined. From this point forward his every connection with Nicole would be strictly business.

A quick rap on the door drew Ian’s gaze in that direction. Two uniformed Chicago police officers entered the room. Both looked entirely too young to own a weapon, much less use it.

“Ian Michaels?”

“Yes,” Ian replied.

The doctor looked up; a frown knitted his brow. “Sorry, guys, you’re going to have to wait until I’m finished here,” he warned as he placed a bandage over the newly sutured wound. “My patient’s health comes first.”

“No problem, sir,” the taller of the two replied. “We’ve got all the time in the world.” The look he shot Ian was arrogantly challenging.

Ian answered that bold gaze with bored amusement. This was going to be a piece of cake.

The door suddenly flew inward again. The two officers whirled toward it in a flash of dark blue. Martinez stumbled in holding his nose with both hands, blood gushing between his fingers and down his shirt front. Ian bounded off the exam table amid the doctor’s protests.

“Where’s Nicole?”

“She’s gone.” Martinez used one hand to swipe the blood from his mouth. “Hell, man, I think she broke my nose.”

Ian’s heart shifted into warp speed. “How much head start does she have?” he demanded curtly.

Martinez shook his head defeatedly. “Five minutes maybe.”

Suddenly everyone was talking at once. The doctor shouting for a nurse. The policemen demanding to know what was going on. And Martinez trying to explain how a female he outweighed by nearly a hundred pounds and towered over by at least a half-dozen inches had managed to beat the hell out of him, leave him stunned on the floor and get away.

The voices and faces around Ian faded into insignificance as his mind raced forward. Where would she go? She was breaking every rule of survival in the book. In Ian’s experience, when an agent broke code there was compelling motivation. Something worth the risk.

What was Nicole hiding?

“I’VE GOT IT,” Martinez announced in a distinctly nasal voice as he rushed into Ian’s office. The white tape stretched tautly across the bridge of his nose looked stark against his dark skin. “The car the shooter used was stolen. And Nicole had a room at the Sheraton downtown. She checked out just over an hour ago.”

Ian glanced at his watch, one-fifteen. “Did she call for a cab?”

“The doorman said she got into a Ford Explorer parked on the opposite side of the street.” Martinez swore. “My brother is going to enjoy killing me.”

“It’ll show up at the airport,” Ian said distractedly. He needed to know where Nicole was headed and from which airport. And he needed to know now.

“I’m sorry I lost her, man,” Martinez offered again.

Ian met the other man’s concerned gaze. Though inexperienced, Martinez was a good investigator. In time he would be a force to be reckoned with, and there was no time like the present to gain valuable experience. Ian knew he could trust Martinez completely. Besides, Nicole was a formidable opponent. Ian didn’t know anyone, not even himself, he mused, that she couldn’t best if she put her mind to it. Martinez might as well learn the hard way.

“It’s okay, Martinez. Nicole is not your typical vulnerable female client.” At least not on the surface, Ian amended silently.

Martinez huffed. “You got that right.”

“Mr. Michaels, I have that information you requested.”

Ian motioned for Mildred, Victoria’s secretary, to come in. He accepted the documents she offered.

“Miss Reed has a reservation on every flight on all airlines headed to D.C. and New York that are scheduled to leave O’Hare and Midway between three o’clock and eight o’clock today.”

Ian scanned the list of flights. Eight different flights arriving at five different airports. He shook his head. Nicole had no intention of making this easy.

“And here’s the report on Miss Reed’s car. I asked Murray at city’s lab to put a rush on the preliminary and fax me a copy ASAP.” Mildred smiled with satisfaction. “He came through, as usual.”

Ian returned her smile. Mildred had been with the agency since the beginning, when Victoria’s husband had been in charge. The vivacious middle-aged woman knew the Chicago PD like the back of her hand, and had something on anyone who was anybody employed there.

“Thank you, Mildred.” A frown creased Ian’s brow as he scanned the relatively brief preliminary report. No timer. No evidence of an internal detonation device. Remote-detonated. The bomb had been remote-detonated by someone watching Nicole’s car, Ian concluded. But why had they not waited until she was in the car?

“Call Kruger,” he instructed Mildred. “I need a ride to D.C.”

“Yes sir.” Mildred turned back at the door. “I’ll ask him to be ready within the hour.”

“Good,” Ian agreed.

“You think she’d go back to D.C.?” Martinez gingerly fingered the tightly taped bridge of his nose.

“Yes, I do.”

“I’ll drop you at the airport,” Martinez offered. “That is if you don’t mind me driving your car, mine’s still in the shop.”

“That’s fine.” Ian estimated that Victoria’s private jet could have him in D.C. a good half hour before the earliest commercial flight on Nicole’s schedule. He stood, mentally ticking off the items he would need to take with him. He would need to stop by his place and pick up another weapon and a change of clothes. Nicole probably left his Glock in the Explorer, but there was nothing he could do about that right now. He glanced at Martinez. “Let’s go. I’ll confirm the itinerary with Kruger en route.”

“After I drop you off, I’ll look for the Explorer,” Martinez grumbled as they headed toward the elevators. “I can’t believe she stole my brother’s truck.” Martinez shook his head disgustedly. “And, man, I’ve never had my butt kicked so badly. By a female at that.” He flashed Ian a look of dismay. “I hope you’re not going to tell anybody about that.”

Ian stabbed the elevator call button, then shot the man next to him an amused look. “Don’t worry, Martinez, your secret is safe with me.”

“Mr. Michaels, wait!”

Ian paused before getting onto the elevator. Amy Wells, the newest member of the agency’s clerical staff, hurried toward him, those long, coppery curls bouncing around her shoulders.

“Miss Wells,” he greeted patiently, though impatience pounded through his veins. He had to get to D.C. before Nicole did.

“Mildred needs your signature before you leave since Mrs. Colby won’t be back for another week.” Amy indicated the report she held and offered him a pen. She blushed, clearly intimidated at having to speak to him much less request anything of him.

Ian produced a smile. “No problem.” He quickly penned his official signature.

“Gosh, Martinez, what happened to you?” Amy asked abruptly, all wide-eyed innocence.

Before Martinez could come up with a suitable explanation, Ian leaned toward her and whispered, “It’s a secret.” He touched his lips with one finger in a gesture of silence and stepped inside the elevator. The doors closed, leaving Miss Wells staring in dismay after them. Martinez wasn’t going to live this down anytime soon.

NICOLE PARKED her car down the street from her apartment building. Darkness shrouded the old neighborhood she had called home for five years now. Only forty minutes from her office, the small Virginia community boasted quiet living with all the conveniences of the city. Nicole sighed, then closed her eyes for a long moment. She was tired. Her trip to Chicago had been a fiasco, and a colossal waste of precious time. Nicole glanced at the digital clock on her dash. Only two hours until her flight to Atlanta. She had to get a move on. She had wasted enough time stopping to purchase something to wear besides Ian’s sweats.

“Suck it up, Reed,” she scolded herself as she scanned the deserted street once more. Walking into that building and then her dark apartment was not something she looked forward to—especially since the only other tenant was probably out of town as usual. But what choice did she have? She needed clothes and cash, and new ID. She had left her purse at Ian’s. No way would she have chanced going back to get it. Her next flight was reserved under an alias. She certainly couldn’t go anywhere broke and without clean ID. It would take lots of hard cash to do what she had to do. Replanting a witness wasn’t cheap. Or easy. Not to mention the fact that she was doing this on her own. She knew better than to risk anyone at the agency finding out. And she definitely couldn’t hang around D.C. long. It wouldn’t take the man—or woman, she amended—long to track her back here. Ian wouldn’t be far behind her. And he would be royally ticked off. Nicole decided she had better be gone when he arrived.

Her gaze sweeping left to right, then back, Nicole emerged from the car. She adjusted the baseball cap she had crammed her hair into, then rolled her head to loosen up her neck. God she was tense. Her right hand slid instinctively to her weapon she had retrieved from an airport locker. She tucked it more firmly into the waistband of her jeans at the small of her back. The denim jacket she wore concealed it well. She could have taken it to Chicago with her, but hadn’t wanted to go through the hassle with airport authorities. So she had left the weapon and her bureau ID in a locker. She had left Ian’s Glock in the Explorer back at O’Hare. He wouldn’t be happy, but he would get over it. Martinez would find it when he picked up his brother’s vehicle. Losing a weapon wasn’t conducive to sleeping at night.

Nicole breathed a sigh of relief when she entered the well-lit courtyard that flanked the right side of her building. Only three stories, each floor of the old building housed just two apartments. The place was definitely small compared to the others in this neighborhood, but it was clean and well kept. And quiet. How could it be anything else? she mused. In the five years since she’d moved in, more than half the other apartments had always been vacant. Like now.

The sound of a dog barking on the next block reminded Nicole that she was wasting time. She glanced up at her unadorned, second-story balcony. On the first floor, the only other tenant’s terrace contained an assortment of flowering and green plants. Nicole was never home long enough to care for plants or pets. She shrugged listlessly. People like her didn’t have time for such distractions.

The pool shimmered like a tranquil lagoon in the full-moonlight as she hurried past it and around to the front entrance. A slight breeze whispered through the leaves of the surrounding trees. This lovely courtyard had been the main selling point for the place in Nicole’s opinion. With one more look to either side of her, she slid the key into the lock and entered the deserted stairwell.

Nicole paused to listen for sound. The answering silence soothed her frazzled nerves. Okay, she assured herself, everything is going to be fine. She had done this plenty of times before. But no matter how she fought it, the memory of her car exploding right before her eyes kept replaying in her head. The connection could no longer be denied, she realized as more images reeled through her tired mind. The director’s telephone exploding while he sat at his desk. The death-dealing explosion at Agent Daniels’s house. The letter bomb that had exploded in her mail carrier’s bag just before he reached her apartment building’s mail station. The single shot she knew deep in her gut had been meant for her in that shopping-mall parking lot. Then her rental car. Nicole shook off the lingering images before her next memory could take form. She had to focus. Even without the warning letter she had received from Daniels two days after his unsolved murder, things were all too clear now.

Someone knew their secret.

Slowly, silently, Nicole climbed the two flights of stairs that seemed to go on forever. The white walls and absolute quiet allowed other images and voices she didn’t want to hear or see to creep into her thoughts. Ian’s cold, hard look when he had come face-to-face with her in Victoria Colby’s office. The soft, sensual whispering of his voice as he made love to her. Nicole forced away the vivid memories. Fear gripped her heart when her errant mind replayed the scene outside Ian’s town house when he had been shot. She thanked God again that he hadn’t been hurt worse.

What a fool she was for seeking him out and dragging him into this mess. She would do this alone. She had thought it through. She could do it. And Ian would be safe. Last night had opened her eyes to the truth she had wanted to deny for three years now. No matter what happened to her, Nicole could not bear to take a chance on Ian getting hurt again—physically or emotionally.

Distraction was a dangerous risk. One neither of them could afford to take. Nicole would do her job to the best of her ability…alone. And Ian could live his life the way he deserved without her interference. He had a posh job, a great house. And probably lots of women, a little voice added. Nicole clenched her teeth and refused to consider Ian’s social life. She was an even bigger fool for not stopping to think that he might even be seriously involved with someone. He was, after all, incredibly good-looking, and that voice…

Just thinking about the sound of his voice made her insides quiver. Nicole paused as she reached the landing outside her apartment. Get a grip, Reed, she chastised silently. That line of thinking is hazardous to your health.

She listened outside her nondescript gray door for what felt like half an eternity before she inserted her key into the lock. The only sound was her heart thudding in her chest. Willing herself to calm, she reached beneath her jacket for her weapon. Nicole pushed the door inward, spilling light into the dark foyer. She stepped inside, hit the switch for the overhead light, and with one foot eased the door closed behind her.

She scanned the darkness beyond the foyer for any movement, while listening intently past the hush of the central unit. Nothing. Relieved, she reached behind her and locked the door, then stepped soundlessly toward the living room. Every nerve ending on alert, she eased quietly into the room. Holding her breath, she leaned down and turned on the table lamp. A soft, golden glow lit the center of the room. The far edges remained in shadow. Years of training not allowing her to relax her guard until she had checked every nook and cranny, Nicole moved cautiously around the perimeter of the room.

After giving her bedroom and bathroom the all clear, Nicole finally took a deep breath. She silently retraced her steps down the hall and slipped into the kitchen, caution still restraining her. The light from the hall glinted against the array of stainless-steel pots and pans hanging from the rack over the island bar. White cabinets and countertops reflected the minimal light reaching out to them.

Paranoia could be a good thing, she told that lingering sensation that made the hair on the back of her neck continue to stand on end. But enough was enough. There was no one here. The place was as quiet as a tomb.

“Poor choice in words, Reed,” she muttered as she lowered her weapon. She was starved. Beyond starved. She frowned—she was so hungry she could actually smell food. Nicole closed her eyes and inhaled deeply of the scent her imagination had conjured. Chinese. Wouldn’t it be nice if she could take time to drop by Won’s on her way back to the airport? Her stomach rumbled in agreement.

“God, I’m starved,” she said aloud then flipped on the overhead fluorescent.

“Eating is essential to survival, Nicole.”

Nicole’s pulse jumped, her heart rocketed into her throat. She whirled toward the sound of Ian’s voice in the far corner of the kitchen, her weapon instinctively leveled on the target. She blinked twice to adjust to the bright light. Drinks and containers of Chinese takeout—Won’s no less—sat in the middle of her kitchen table.

He’d remembered.

Nicole almost smiled as she lowered her weapon, and relaxed her fire-ready stance. Her attention shifted to Ian’s left hand as he pushed one container forward, then to his right where he held a weapon trained expertly on her. Uhoh. Slowly, she lifted her reluctant gaze to his ever-unreadable one.

“I want answers, Nicole.” He leaned back in his chair. “And I want them now.”

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