Selected praise for
SUZANNE BROCKMANN

“An unusual and compelling romance.”

—Affaire de Coeur on No Ordinary Man

“In No Ordinary Man, Suzanne Brockmann

tells a well-plotted story with a

frightening array of suspects.”

—Romantic Times BOOKreviews

“Thanks to Suzanne Brockmann’s glorious pen,

we all get to revel in heart-stopping adventure

and blistering romance.”

—Romantic Times BOOKreviews

“Brockmann’s complex characters

will capture the reader’s sympathy.”

—Publishers Weekly

No Ordinary Man
Suzanne Brockmann

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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SUZANNE BROCKMANN

lives just west of Boston in a house always filled with her friends—actors and musicians and storytellers and artists and teachers. When not writing award-winning romances, she sings in an a cappella group called Serious Fun and volunteers at the Appalachian Benefit Coffeehouse. Readers can find out more about her and her latest books at her Web site, www.suzannebrockmann.com.

For Melanie and Jason, extraordinary kids

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

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Prologue

Her apartment building was not very hard to get into. He just rang all the doorbells in the lobby and waited for someone to buzz the inner door open. Once inside, he quickly took the stairs up to the third floor.

He opened the door a crack, just enough to be able to see down the hall to her apartment door.

He had followed her as she did her chores today, as she did every Saturday. He had left her at the video store, knowing that she’d stop to pick up her dry cleaning and then come home. She had no idea he’d be waiting for her.

None of them ever had any idea.

As she emerged from the elevator and approached her apartment, he tensed. The timing had to be perfect. He had to wait until she unlocked the door, and was heading through…

He sprang.

She didn’t even have time to yell. His hand was over her mouth, the knife at her throat. She knew who was in control, who was in charge. She knew not to struggle. They were alone in her apartment, and finally, the game would come to an end.

He could barely wait.

Chapter One

“It was a dark and stormy night,” Doris drawled across the telephone line, “when suddenly a mysterious stranger appeared from the shadows of the mist.”

Jess Baxter laughed and peered out the screen door into the small circle of light thrown onto her back deck by the porch lamp. “First of all,” she said to the older woman who was her day care provider and longtime friend, “It may be night, but I’ve got all the lights on, so it’s not dark. Secondly, it’s certainly not stormy, and there’s no mist in sight. And, Rob’s hardly a stranger.”

“He’s hardly Elmer Schiller, either,” Doris countered, referring to the shy, elderly little man who had been the previous tenant in the small apartment attached to Jess’s house.

“No, he’s not,” Jess had to agree. She heard an odd, slow, shuffling, thumping sound that had to be Rob Carpenter, her new tenant, carrying something heavy up the stairs to the deck and to the door of the apartment.

“I mean, when it comes down to it,” Doris said, “what do you really know about this guy?”

“Oh, come on, Doris,” Jess replied, moving back into the kitchen and pouring herself a glass of iced tea. “He’s lived down the street for months.” For the past six months, Rob had rented a neighbor’s house while the family was away in Europe.

“Where’d he come from?” Doris asked. “Where’d he live before he moved into the Hendersons’ house? What’s his family like? Where did he grow up? Any deeply rooted psychological problems? Any tendencies towards violence? Does he prefer to use a knife or a gun when committing murder…?”

“You’ve been watching too many bad TV movies of the week,” Jess scoffed, trying not to glance out the screen door as the subject in question went past, carrying another box.

“Might I remind you that there’s a serial killer on the loose?” Doris persisted. “The fact is, you don’t know anything about this guy.”

“Next time I’ll be sure to put ‘Choice of murder weapon’ on the rental application,” Jess said dryly.

“I worry about you and Kelsey,” Doris stated firmly. “Living all alone. Maybe you should get a big dog.”

“Maybe you should take stress reduction classes.”

“This is the guy who comes to your shows all the time,” Doris said. “Right? The guy you’ve told me about?”

“Well, yes,” Jess said, drawing designs in the condensation on the outside of her iced tea glass. “I’ve mentioned him once or twice.”

“A few more times than that, hon. I’ve heard quite a bit about Mr. Rob Solid-And-Dependable-Businessman. Mr. Rob Polite. Mr. Rob Ordinary-Guy-With-Real-Nice-Eyes. I think you’ve got a bigger role than tenant in mind for this one.”

Jess rolled her eyes. “Doris!”

“I think you think this Rob might be good father material.”

“Really, don’t start.”

“Honey, I’m not accusing you of anything wrong,” Doris said. “It’s been two years since you kicked Ian out. It makes sense that you’re a little itchy for some male company. And heaven knows you could use some help both paying the bills and raising Kelsey. But don’t hitch yourself to some guy you don’t really know just to—”

“Doris,” Jess singsonged warningly.

“I mean, if it’s all hot and heavy between you two, if he makes your heart beat harder, then God bless him, but still, make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into,” Doris said, rushing her words in her haste to get them out. “Ian Davis was no prize, but he never got violent—at least not with you or Kelsey. But you always hear about these polite, quiet types who end up taking a machine gun and—”

“Gee, I’m going to sleep really well tonight,” Jess said.

“For all you know, this Rob could be the guy everyone’s looking for—the serial killer,” Doris persisted.

“He could also be Elvis Presley,” Jess said, “alive and in disguise, hiding from his adoring public.”

“Jess, I’m serious.”

“Rob needed a place to live,” Jess interrupted her friend. “There’s nothing going on, and I have no plans for there to be something going on. I needed a tenant. Fast. Both for the money, and for the fact that if Rob didn’t move in, Stanford Greene was going to.”

That silenced Doris. “God,” she finally said.

“Yes,” Jess agreed, pushing open the screen door and carrying the cordless phone out with her onto the deck. “God.”

“That creepy guy who lives next door with his creepy parents?” Doris asked.

“Yes,” Jess said, glancing over at her neighbor’s house. It was in dire need of a paint job and some serious repairs. Creepy indeed—both the house and the people who lived inside. Stanford Greene’s mother had decided that since her baby boy was pushing forty years old, it was high time he got married. She’d also decided that Jess would make the perfect little bride for her baby. When Mrs. Greene had heard that Elmer Schiller was moving out of Jess’s apartment to live with his daughter in Fort Myers, she’d thought that Stanford’s moving in would be a perfect way for her darling son to get to know Jess better. But perfect wasn’t quite the word Jess had in mind. She could just picture pudgy Stanford with his ear pressed to the paper thin walls, listening to every phone conversation Jess had. She could just see him staring at her all day from the deck, rather than from the other side of the wooden fence that separated their two yards.

“I take it all back,” Doris conceded with a shudder. “Well, some of it anyway.”

Jess leaned on the rail of the deck, looking down at the driveway below. The trunk of Rob’s car was open, lit by the dim garage light, but her new tenant was nowhere in sight.

“I’m sorry, am I making too much noise?” a soft voice said, and she spun around, heart pounding. “Maybe I should move the rest of the stuff up in the morning,” Rob added. “I know it’s late, and I don’t want to wake up your daughter.”

Rob must’ve been inside the apartment. But Jess hadn’t heard the door open, or the sound of his footsteps on the deck. It was as if he’d suddenly appeared, instantly standing next to her, conjured up by her vivid imagination.

He was taller than she remembered. And even though he was a good five feet away from her, it seemed as if he were standing much too close.

“You startled me,” she said breathlessly.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized again.

His eyes were brown. They were average brown—neither deep chocolate nor tawny amber. Just…brown. They were level and steady and mostly hidden behind circular wire-rimmed glasses. But every time Jess met his gaze, something very hot and very dangerous sparked. This time was no exception.

His hair and face were slightly damp with perspiration. But he hadn’t bothered to roll up his shirtsleeves, and his tie wasn’t even loosened.

Despite the protestations she’d made to Doris, Jess found Rob Carpenter incredibly attractive. She wouldn’t admit it to her friend, but she couldn’t deny it to herself.

On the surface, he seemed so…average. He had conservatively cut brown hair, brown eyes, a medium build. He always dressed the same way—like a computer programmer. Tonight he was still wearing his work clothes—khaki slacks and a long-sleeved button-down shirt with a bland tie. In an elevator full of businessmen, he would blend into the crowd—nondescript, nothing special.

Unless you looked more closely.

His shoulders were broad beneath his crisp white shirt. His body was slender, and his pants hugged his backside almost sinfully. Undeniably, the man had a great butt. And a great smile. His teeth were straight and white, and his cheeks crinkled charmingly at the edges of his mouth. He was much better than average-looking. In fact, behind those glasses and that unremarkable haircut, he was remarkably handsome. His face was lean, with a strong jaw and a straight, nearly perfect nose. His lips were beautifully shaped, and his smile made his brown eyes sparkle with amusement. Yet there was always a tinge of sadness behind that smile, a hint of tragedy in his eyes.

Maybe that was what Jess found so attractive. Maybe it was the mystery that seemed to linger around him.

Or maybe it was simply the fact that outwardly Rob was a polar opposite to Ian Davis, Jess’s ex-husband. The truth was, from his short brown hair to the tips of his well-polished businesslike shoes, Rob appeared to be everything that manic and out-of-control Ian, with his Hawaiian shirts, his long, curly blond hair and his ice blue eyes had never been.

“Jess, are you still there?” Doris asked.

She was staring at Rob. Jess knew she was staring, and she forced herself to pull her eyes away. “Doris, I’ve got to go,” she said into the telephone.

“Just remember what I said, hon.”

“Goodbye,” Jess returned firmly and punched the off button on the phone. She turned back to Rob. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” he said in his quiet, accentless voice.

“You’re hardly making any noise at all,” she told him. “I heard you pull into the driveway while I was on the phone and I meant to come out and ask if you needed any help. Can I give you a hand with the rest of your things?”

“No, that’s all right.” Rob looked over the railing at his car in the driveway below. “I don’t have that much stuff, and I’m almost done. There’re just another couple of boxes.”

“I can help you with them.”

Rob shook his head. “No, really. They’re both too heavy. They’re my free weights. I didn’t pack ’em real well—I just threw all the plates into a couple of crates.”

Free weights. Rob lifted weights. Funny, she would have never known. If he had a weight lifter’s physique, it was hidden underneath his loose-fitting shirt. At first glance he looked so much like a computer nerd, barely capable of lifting a too heavy briefcase, yet here he was, bringing weight-lifting equipment into her apartment.

Her apartment? His apartment now. He’d signed a six-month lease just this afternoon. For the next six months, Rob Carpenter was going to be her closest neighbor.

As she gazed up into his eyes, Jess felt again that spark of awareness, that whisper of heat.

But he turned away. “Well…I’ll, um, get the rest of my, uh…”

“I’ll get some iced tea,” Jess offered, heading for the door to her kitchen. “You look like you could use something cool to drink.”

“That would be nice,” Rob said, stopping at the top of the stairs and looking back at her, smiling very slightly. “Thanks.”

He moved silently down the stairs as Jess pulled open her screen door.

Doris was right about at least one thing. Rob did make Jess’s heart beat harder. Just one little smile, and her pulse was pounding.

She got another glass from the cabinet and pulled the ice cube tray from the freezer. She added several fresh cubes to her own glass, still sitting out on the counter, as Rob moved quietly past the door, carrying a large, heavy-looking box filled with free weights. The box looked awkward and unwieldy, yet he carried it easily, as if it weighed almost nothing.

He moved silently past the door again, heading back toward the stairs as Jess took the iced tea pitcher from the refrigerator and filled both glasses.

What did she know about this man?

Jess knew that Rob worked as a software consultant for some local computer company—she couldn’t remember the name—and that he traveled rather extensively throughout Florida and the southeast, sometimes taking as many as eight or nine business trips in a single month.

She knew that he had moved to Sarasota from up north—which city or state, Jess couldn’t say. She didn’t think he’d ever mentioned it.

She knew he had nice eyes, that he was polite and quiet, maybe even shy.

And that he drove a staid, dark gray Taurus sedan.

He liked to listen to folk music, and he’d attended nearly all of her gigs. He’d come when she played her guitar and sang at local clubs, often bringing along one of the guys from his office—a friendly man named Frank—but never showing up with a date.

She knew Rob liked the food at the China Boat, the small restaurant three blocks south. She’d seen him carrying bags of takeout as she’d driven past, after picking up her daughter from Doris’s after school day care. Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean he liked the China Boat’s food. Maybe it simply meant that he didn’t like to cook.

They’d really only spoken a few times. Unlike his friend Frank who was very chatty, Rob never stuck around her gigs long enough to talk, as if he were somehow afraid to impose.

That wasn’t a lot to go on, but it didn’t take much imagination to picture Rob Carpenter fitting easily into Jess’s life. Her life and Kelsey’s. Her six-year-old daughter actually knew Rob better than Jess did. Kelsey’s best friend lived next door to the house Rob had been renting. Kelsey had told Jess that Rob had often come into her friend’s yard to play baseball with the two children and her friend’s dad. Rob apparently had a natural way with kids. Kelsey—who was usually so reserved around men, thanks to Ian—adored Rob. He’d given both children nick-names—her friend was Beetle and Kelsey was Bug.

Sure, Doris was right. Jess didn’t know much about Rob’s past. But Kelsey liked him, and that was worth quite a bit in Jess’s book.

As Jess put the iced tea pitcher back in the refrigerator, Rob moved past the door again, carrying his last box. Moments later, he tapped softly at the screen.

“Come on in,” she said.

He opened the screen door quickly and came into the kitchen without bringing in any of the bugs that were circling the light—not an easy feat. He carried in her evening newspaper. With a quick smile, he handed it to her.

“I was wondering which side of the driveway you wanted me to leave my car on,” he said. “Or if you’d prefer that I parked on the street.”

“The driveway’s fine,” Jess said, putting the paper down on the kitchen counter and handing him one of the glasses of iced tea. “Just don’t block the garage in case I have to get out before you leave in the morning. And if you ever have anyone stay overnight, any…” She was about to say girlfriends, but she paused, suddenly uncertain. What if he was gay? He couldn’t be, could he? No, from the way he always looked at her, she had to believe that he wasn’t. Still… “Any friends,” she continued, “Just have…them…park on the street.”

Rob noticed her carefully genderless sentence, and he fought hard to keep his reaction from showing. Jess actually thought that he might be gay. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or feel insulted. Or feel relieved.

Because here he was, standing in Jess Baxter’s kitchen. She was not more than six feet away from him, dressed in a short-cropped T-shirt that didn’t quite meet the waistband of her cutoff jeans. Although she wasn’t very tall, her legs were long and slender, and standing there like that in her bare feet, with a narrow strip of smooth, tanned stomach showing between her shorts and her shirt, she looked like something out of a beach boy’s fantasy.

Her short dark hair curled softly around her heart-shaped face, and her eyes had to be the darkest shade of brown he’d ever seen in his entire life.

The first time Rob had seen her, when he’d first moved to Sarasota, to this neighborhood, he’d known that she was someone he should stay far, far away from. When he’d first spotted her with Kelsey, he’d fervently hoped that she was happily married. He prayed that she had someone that she loved, someone who adored her, someone who would protect her.

Naturally, she was divorced, a single mom. She wasn’t seeing anyone, wasn’t even dating. His bad luck just never seemed to quit.

Still, he’d kept his distance. But he couldn’t keep from watching her. He noticed her when she played in her yard with Kelsey. He watched her when she worked in her garden. He spied her when she grocery shopped, early every Thursday morning, like clockwork. He’d even watched her cooking dinner through her uncurtained kitchen window. He also went to her shows, and listened to her play her guitar and sing.

She had a smile as sweet and welcoming as a warm spring morning, and eyes as mysterious as the darkest night sky. Her voice, with its gentle southern accent was velvet—husky and soft and unbearably, achingly, painfully sensual.

When the Hendersons had written him of their impending return, he should have moved clear across to the other side of town. This woman didn’t need the kind of trouble he brought with him. But she had seemed as desperate to find a tenant as he’d been to find a place to live.

“You want sugar in that?” Jess asked him, gesturing toward the tall glass of iced tea she’d handed him as she crossed to the cabinet and took down a sugar bowl. Her jeans shorts fit her perfect derriere snugly and she swayed slightly, naturally, as she walked. Sweet God, if she only knew what he was thinking, she’d be convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt of his heterosexuality. “Or would you like some lemon?” she added.

“Sugar,” Rob heard himself say. “Thanks.”

He should be getting out of there. He should go into his new apartment and organize his things, set up his weight-lifting gear, watch some mindless television sitcom. He should be leaving Jess Baxter alone, not standing in her kitchen, looking at her legs, thinking dangerous thoughts. Instead, he sat down across from her at her kitchen table.

“You know, I realized I don’t know that much about you,” Jess said, taking a sip of her iced tea and gazing at him with her bottomless dark eyes. She pushed the bowl of sugar and a spoon in his direction.

She was going to ask him some questions. Some personal questions. Rob stirred sugar into his glass, carefully keeping his face passive, fighting the hot surge of anger that pulsed through him. God, he hated questions. He hated lying, he hated all of it. He hated his entire life, loathed what he’d become. Boring, he reminded himself. Make yourself sound unbearably boring. She’ll change the subject soon enough. “There’s not that much to know,” he said blandly. “I work for Epco, Inc., downtown. I work with computers, you know, software consulting. It’s pretty mundane.”

God, he hated small talk. But that’s all he ever did—all he ever could do. It was too risky to have any kind of real conversation, too nerve-racking to say anything that would make someone take a closer look at him. So he always stuck to small talk. Always. For the past eight years, he’d had his real conversations in his head, with himself. Sometimes he felt well on his way to being certifiably nuts. But he had to keep his interactions with other people to a minimum. He had to be boring. He had to remain invisible.

“I travel a lot,” he added, “but I only see the insides of office buildings.”

Jess nodded, still watching him. “That’s too bad.” Her eyelashes were amazingly dark and incredibly long. And she didn’t look the slightest bit bored. In fact, she looked interested. More than interested. Attracted. Beautiful, vibrant, sexy Jess Baxter was actually attracted to dull, mild-mannered, boring Rob Carpenter.

Her cheeks flushed very slightly as Rob met her eyes and held her gaze, wondering if she could see past his disguise, wondering if somehow he’d slipped and given himself away. She looked away, embarrassed or nervous. Damn straight she should be nervous around him.

“With my schedule, I don’t have time for anything besides work,” he added, hoping she’d pick up his double meaning. He didn’t have time for anything else, especially romance. He couldn’t risk the sweet intimacy of a lover’s quiet questions or the expectations of shared secrets and whispered confessions.

Jess took another sip of her drink, removing a stray drop of tea from her lips with the tip of her tongue. It was sweetly, unconsciously sexy on her part, and Rob felt his body respond. Man, it had been too long…

“No hobbies?” she asked, one elegant eyebrow arching upward. “No clog dancing classes?”

Rob had to laugh at that. “No,” he said. “Sad to say, I had to give it up.”

“Music, then,” Jess prompted. “You must have an interest in music—I’ve seen you at some of the folk festivals, and at some of my gigs. You even brought along that friend of yours—Frank. I appreciated your helping pad the audience.”

Rob nodded. “I like music,” he said. That was true, but he’d really gone to those festivals and concerts expressly to see Jess sing. “But I never brought Frank. We’re not friends—more like acquaintances. We both happened to show up at one of the folk festivals and we got to talking—we both work at Epco.”

Jess nodded, taking a sip of her iced tea. “How about movies?” she asked. “Kelsey and I saw you a couple of times at the Gulf Gate Mall theater.”

Now this was something he could talk about. Rob smiled and let himself relax a little. But only slightly.

“We love going to movies,” she continued, pushing a stray curl back behind one ear. “We go to everything a six-year-old can see, that is. I’ve become a Disney expert.”

“I’m more into Pulp Fiction than Pocahontas myself,” Rob admitted. “I’m a Spielberg fan. And I like James Cameron, too. He did the Terminator movies, remember those?”

“Aha.” Jess smiled at him as she took another sip of her iced tea. “You do have a hobby, if you watch movies enough to be a fan of a specific director.”

“I don’t know, it’s slightly more passive than clog dancing,” Rob said, smiling back into her warm brown eyes. God, she was pretty.

“So is stamp collecting.”

“You win,” he conceded. “I guess I have a hobby.”

“We also saw you in Books-A-Million,” she said. “Buying a stack of books about two feet high.”

“I also like to read. Fiction, mostly.”

“But I didn’t see you move in boxes and boxes of books,” Jess said, resting her chin on the upturned palm of her hand as she continued to gaze across the table at him.

Rob shrugged. “I don’t usually live in a place big enough to keep bookshelves. I read ’em, then donate ’em to a local nursing home.”

Her big dark eyes softened. “That’s sweet.”

God, he could lose himself in those eyes. He could just fall in and disappear forever, drowning, suffocating, pulling her down with him. They’d both simply vanish, never to resurface.

“You moved down here from up north,” Jess said, wondering if he could hear the breathlessness of her voice, wondering if he knew it was caused by the way he was looking at her. “Didn’t you?”

Across the table, Rob nodded, pulling his gaze away from her and giving his iced tea another spoonful of sugar and another stir. She’d been wrong about him, Jess realized. She’d thought he was shy, but there was nothing in those brown eyes that suggested shyness. In fact, his gaze was confident and steady. Rob Carpenter wasn’t shy at all. Just…polite. Reserved. Quiet. And as attracted to her as she was to him.

“Where are you from?” she asked.

“All over the place,” he answered, glancing up at her and giving her a ghost of his earlier smile.

Could he be any more vague? Jess took another sip of her tea. “I grew up here in Florida,” she said. “Out on Siesta Key. My parents still have a beach house there. I use it sometimes when I’ve got a gig at the Pelican Club.”

He didn’t comment or offer any information on the location of his own childhood. He just watched her.

“My folks are up in Montana right now,” Jess continued, more to fill the silence than because she thought he’d be interested in the whereabouts of her parents. “They’re retired and doing the RV thing. You know, the enormous silver cylinder on wheels? Camping without the nasty outdoors part?”

That got another genuine smile out of him. And a response. “They’re in Montana, huh? It’s pretty out there—different from Florida.”

“I’ve never been to Montana,” she admitted. “Have you?”

He nodded, yes, but didn’t elaborate. She’d asked another faintly personal question that he wasn’t going to answer at any length. Apparently, he was willing to converse about superficial things but he didn’t like to talk about himself. But then, to her surprise, he actually volunteered some personal information. “I lived out west for about a year and a half.”

“So you really are from all over the place,” Jess said. “Where did you grow up?”

His smile faded quickly, but he still gazed at her. There was something else in his eyes now. It wasn’t amusement. It had a harder edge. Maybe it was alertness. Or was it wariness? Why should a question about his childhood make him wary?

“Jersey,” he finally replied. And as if he somehow knew that he was being too vague again, he added, “Near New York City.”

“Really?” she said. “Where exactly?”

“Just across the Hudson River.”

So much for “exactly.” “Does your family still live up there?”

“I don’t have a family.” He was still watching her.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, instantly backing down.

“I’m not.” He said it so matter-of-factly, it took her a moment for his words to make sense. How could he not be sorry that he didn’t have a family?

The first thought that occurred to Jess was that Rob Carpenter didn’t want her to know the name of the town he’d grown up in because he’d done in his entire family and was now living under an alias, on the lam. It was a thought that would have made Doris proud. It was also ridiculous. Wasn’t it…?

The man was clearly hiding something. Wasn’t he? Or was he simply a private person, unwilling to talk about personal things to a near stranger?

Rob gazed across the table at Jess. She was watching him steadily, warily. He knew he made her nervous, he could see it in her eyes. But he could also see her attraction to him, too. It simmered between them like something living, ready to devour them both.

He knew without a doubt that if he reached across the table and put his hand over hers, she wouldn’t pull her own hand away. And he could only imagine where that one touch would lead. But that was part of the problem. He could imagine. He could see it quite clearly.

Rob pushed his chair back from the table and stood up. “I should get going. Thanks for the drink.”

Jess stood up, too. “Feel free to drop by anytime,” she said. “Kelsey and I are home most evenings.” She shoved her hands into the front pockets of her jeans shorts, a sweetly nervous gesture that exposed another half inch of her flat, tanned stomach. “We’re neighbors now. I hope we’re going to be friends.”

Friends. Rob put his hand on the screen door’s handle. He and beautiful Jess Baxter were going to be friends. He couldn’t help but wonder just how friendly she intended to be.

Damn, he shouldn’t have moved in here like this. For Jess’s sake, he should have gone far, far away. Because he knew damn well he wasn’t going to be able to resist her. If he was reading her right, and she was attracted to him, he didn’t stand a chance at keeping his distance. If she made even the smallest attempt to seduce him, he’d surrender. He was strong, but he wasn’t that strong. And where would that leave him? Where would it leave Jess?

Rob stepped out onto the porch, shutting the door behind him. “Thanks again.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond. He turned and headed for his apartment door, down at the other end of the deck.

He liked Jess more than he’d ever imagined. It had nothing to do with the physical attraction that drew his eyes in her direction all the time. It had to do with her warm smile and her friendly conversation, and her funny, easygoing outlook on life.

Yeah, he liked her, and he’d seen an answering attraction in her eyes tonight—for her sake he should clear out right now. He should just get in his car and leave.

JESS RINSED THE ICED TEA glasses and put them in the dishwasher, feeling oddly unsettled. She’d set out to find some facts about her mysterious tenant, but all she had now were more mysteries.

He had no family and yet he was glad about that.

He grew up somewhere near New York City, but when she’d asked him where exactly, he’d continued to be vague.

Jess picked up the newspaper that Rob had brought inside, and went to check on Kelsey. It was supposed to be Kelsey’s job to bring the afternoon paper in each evening, but occasionally her daughter forgot. It was all part of being six years old.

Kelsey was fast asleep, the bedsheets twisted around her like some kind of Roman toga. Jess smiled, pushing Kelsey’s damp brown hair back from her warm, round, freckled face. She hadn’t expected that her quiet conversation in the kitchen with Rob would disturb her daughter. Kelsey would remain sound asleep throughout the noisiest thunderstorm. The kid could sleep through anything.

It probably came as a form of self-protection, from the days when Kelsey’s father was still living with them. Ian Davis, with his shaggy blond curls and mocking blue eyes was the first violinist and concert master of the Sarasota Symphony Orchestra. He was flashy, arrogant and selfish. And interminably loud and often rudely, nastily abusive. Jess’s ex-husband was jealous as hell, and would start a fight with her over something as innocent as a friendly smile she gave to the attendant at the gas station.

Yet fidelity wasn’t in Ian’s vocabulary when it pertained to himself.

Jess could still feel the giddy sense of freedom she’d felt on that day two years ago, when she’d packed up Ian’s things and sent them to the SSO office with a letter from her lawyer.

She carried the newspaper into the living room. Doris had been wrong. As tough as things were financially, Jess didn’t need—or want—a man around. She and Kelsey were getting along just fine on their own.

Of course, Ian still didn’t agree. According to him, their relationship was in no way over. He came around constantly and left the key to his condo in her mailbox, on her porch, in her car. Did he really expect her to come crawling back to him? Jess would send the key back, but she’d just find it again several days later. Finally, she tossed it into her junk drawer. Game over. Let Ian think he won.

As Jess set the paper down on the coffee table, the headline caught her eye. As usual, it was about the Sarasota serial killer. It was amazing. Sarasota wasn’t that big a city. Sure, there was crime, but nothing ever like this. It was disconcerting to think that a madman was out there, prowling the streets, hunting down and killing young women.

The latest victim was twenty-two years old. She had come home from graduate school for spring break, to visit her parents. Her body had been found, raped and murdered, in her own bedroom. Jess shivered as she read the interview with the police.

The killings had been going on for six months now, although the media and the public had only known about it for half that time. The FBI were closemouthed about whether or not they had any suspects. They warned all area residents—women in particular—to keep their doors and windows locked, and to avoid going out alone, particularly at night.

Jess stood and locked the front door.

Of course, with Rob Carpenter living in the attached apartment, she should feel safe. The walls were so thin, she wouldn’t have to scream very loud for him to hear. Unless of course, she thought with a wry smile, remembering Doris’s words of warning, Rob himself was the Sarasota serial killer.

But that wasn’t really such a funny joke. True, Doris was probably just being melodramatic as usual, but the fact remained that Jess didn’t know very much about Rob at all. He was a stranger. On top of that, it seemed oddly coincidental that he should have moved to Sarasota six months ago—right before the murders started.

Jess mentally gave herself a shake. Oddly coincidental? She was getting as bad as Doris. Sure, he had moved to Sarasota six months ago. But so had lots of other people. It wasn’t odd, it was just plain coincidental.

Rob was just a nice, quiet guy who didn’t like to talk about his past. No big deal. Jess didn’t like to talk about her marriage to Ian. That didn’t make her an axe murderer. Maybe Rob had been married to some stinker. Maybe he’d had a lousy childhood. Maybe he just wasn’t comfortable talking about his personal life. He’d opened up quickly enough when she’d asked him about movies and books. Of course, that was just glorified small talk.

Rob was just a nice, quiet guy.

Still, Jess stood up and locked the back door anyway.

THIS PART WAS THE BEST. He had brought the rope, of course, and the knife. He loved the look on her face when he tied one end of the rope around his own ankle. And he loved it even more when he told her to tie the other end around her leg.

But first, he ordered her to get herself ready—to put on her makeup while he got undressed.

She was crying by then, but that was okay. They always cried around this time.

She would stop soon.

Chapter Two

“Hey, Bug, what’s happening?”

“Rob!” Kelsey’s voice carried clearly inside from the backyard. “You’re home!”

Jess moved to the kitchen window and watched as her daughter leapt from her swing set and ran to greet Rob.

She glanced at the clock. It was almost five—earlier than he usually came home.

It had only been two weeks, but it seemed as if Rob had been living in the spare apartment forever.

It hadn’t taken long to settle into a routine of sorts. He would come home from work and play in the yard with Kelsey. Jess would come out after a while, and invite him to join them for dinner. He would refuse, except for the times she hadn’t bothered to cook. If she was planning to send out for pizza or Chinese food, he’d agree to eat with them—but only if he could pay. Since last Monday, Jess had been insisting they split the bill.

Why? Because they’d been eating an awful lot of pizza and Chinese food lately.

The evenings had quickly settled into a routine, too. Jess and Kelsey would plan to play a game or rent a video, and they’d invite Rob to join them. Sometimes he’d stay. Sometimes he’d take his car and go out—where, he never said, and Jess never dared to ask.

Rob always kept their conversations light, never getting personal. He talked about the weather, baseball, Kelsey’s school. Small talk. Although last week, the subject of Ian had come up, after Jess’s ex paid her a particularly unpleasant visit.

Jess had felt Rob watching her after Ian finally left. She’d glanced up at him and tried to smile. “Sorry about that,” she’d apologized.

Rob shook his head. “I wasn’t sure whether to leave and give you privacy, or…”

“I appreciated it that you stayed,” Jess said, meeting his eyes. “Ian was drunk again and he’s something of a wild card even when he’s sober.” She laughed, but there wasn’t much humor in her voice. “He drinks, and then he thinks that he wants me back. I don’t know why. He didn’t want me when we were married.”

Rob leaned back against the rail of the deck, still watching her.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, trying to shake herself out of the depression that always followed one of Ian’s visits. “I don’t mean to sound so bitter.”

“He’s pretty screwed up,” Rob commented. He hesitated, looking down at the stained boards of the deck before he continued. “Jess, may I ask you a personal question?”

Silently, she nodded. This entire conversation was pretty personal. She’d half expected Rob to run away after Ian had left—to distance himself from her sordid personal life. But he was planted rather firmly against the deck railing, clearly not going anywhere.

Rob was quiet for another moment, choosing his words carefully. “Has Ian ever…hit you or Kelsey?”

“No,” she answered honestly. “He never did that. He had temper tantrums and tore up the living room a couple of times. He smashed a full set of dishes once.”

“But he never hurt you?” Rob persisted.

“Not intentionally,” Jess told him. “One time he broke a window, and I got cut by a piece of flying glass, but that was an accident.”

“It starts that way,” Rob said. “An accidental burn. An accidental cut.” His voice got harder, rougher with emotion. “An accidental fist in your face.”

Jess stared at him.

“I think you should get a restraining order,” Rob continued. His eyes were almost steely behind his glasses. “What if he comes around here when I’m not home? What if next time he ‘accidentally’ hurts Kelsey?”

Jess was shocked. “Even though Ian doesn’t pay much attention to Kelsey, he’d never hurt her,” she protested. “He’s her father.”

Rob laughed, his voice harsh. “Oh, Jess,” he said. “You have no idea what a father can do to a child.”

“But you do know,” she ventured, realizing what he was saying. “Don’t you?”

Something changed in Rob’s face, as if he suddenly became aware of the fact that he’d said too much, that he’d given himself away. As Jess looked at him, she saw an array of emotions parade across his face. His eyes flicked toward his apartment door, and she knew he wanted to run away from this conversation.

But he didn’t leave. He met her eyes squarely, and he answered her. “Yes.”

Watching him, Jess realized that she and Kelsey were important to him—important enough for him to risk revealing some of the past that he kept so carefully concealed.

His father had abused him. There was no doubt of that in Jess’s mind.

“It started with accidents, too,” Rob said quietly. “You were lucky you got out of your relationship when you did. I didn’t have that option.”

Jess felt her eyes fill with tears as he straightened up. “Think about getting a restraining order,” he said again, ending the conversation by going into his apartment.

He hadn’t brought the topic up again, but Jess couldn’t forget that tiny piece of himself that he’d allowed her to see. She was positive that the only reason he’d told her as much as he had was because he so very much didn’t want the same thing to happen to her or to Kelsey.

But despite that one incident, Rob continued to keep his distance. He never, ever stayed after Kelsey had gone to bed.

Funny, Kelsey’s bedtime seemed to be getting later and later these days.

Jess wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or insulted that he hadn’t yet asked her out. She could see his attraction each time she glanced into his eyes. Still, part of her liked the fact that he was moving at a snail’s pace. It was gentlemanly. It was romantic. At the very least it was different.

But another part of her was frustrated beyond belief. This was the part of her that filled her dreams with steamy, erotic visions of her new neighbor, the likes of which she’d only imagined. And boy, had she imagined. She dreamed of Rob kissing her relentlessly. She dreamed of his arms around her, his hands caressing her, their naked bodies pressed together, straining to become one…

The sad reality was, if she was really lucky, he’d stay for dinner and afterward they’d play Candy Land.

Jess went out onto the deck.

She could see Rob and Kelsey, crouched in the dirt, heads close together as they examined something at the edge of the garden.

As Jess started down the stairs, he glanced up.

For the briefest instant, she saw hunger in his eyes and raw desire on every angle and plane of his lean face. But it was gone so quickly, Jess was left wondering if she had imagined it. Still, her mouth was dry and she had to moisten her lips before she spoke.

“Hi.” A brilliant opener. No doubt he’d be too dazzled by her conversational skills to even hazard a reply.

But he smiled, apparently undaunted, standing up and brushing off his hands. “Hey.”

“We found a worm,” Kelsey informed her. “But it’s all dried up and yucky.”

“Kelsey, please don’t—” Jess sighed as her daughter wiped her muddy hands across her clean T-shirt “—get your shirt dirty.” She sent Rob a look of amused dismay. “Too late.”

“Sorry,” Kelsey said, frowning down at herself, her forehead wrinkled with her distress.

“It’ll wash out. But go up and change, please,” Jess said. “We’ve got to get going.”

Kelsey headed for the stairs up to the deck with her normal explosion of speed. She was like a miniature rocketship—either standing still or moving at the speed of sound.

Jess turned back to Rob. “You’re home early,” she said. “I was sure we’d be gone before you got here.”

He didn’t ask where she and Kelsey were going. Come to think of it, except for that one time he never asked anything that was even remotely personal. “They were having a party back at the office,” Rob explained. “The music got too loud. I wasn’t getting any work done, so I thought I might as well come home.”

Where are you going? He didn’t ask the question, but Jess could see it in his eyes. He wanted to know. So why didn’t he simply ask?

“I was going to leave a note on your door,” Jess said, answering the question anyway. “I got a call from the Pelican Club out on Siesta Key. Tonight’s entertainment canceled and they asked me to fill in. I’ve got to be there in an hour.”

“The Pelican Club.” Rob poked at the garden with the toe of his shoe, burying the mummified worm under a clod of dirt. “Nice place. I’ve gone to see you play there before.”

“I know,” Jess said quietly, watching him.

Rob glanced up at her, and the power generated as his eyes met hers seemed to sizzle the very air around them. He quickly looked away and the sun’s reflection on his glasses hid his eyes.

“Will you come with us?” The words were out of her mouth before she’d taken the time to think. But as soon as she said them, she realized that she was, essentially, asking Rob Carpenter out. She immediately backpedaled, adding, “Doris can’t baby-sit tonight, and all of the local kids are going to a dance at the high school, so I’m stuck and Kelsey’s going to be there, too. I’m sure she’d love to have someone to eat dinner with while I’m playing.” Lord, now it sounded as if she wanted Rob to come along as a baby-sitter. And that wasn’t true at all. “I’m doing this badly,” she continued almost desperately, “but it’s been a while since I’ve asked a man out and…you’re probably busy. Sorry, I’m…sorry.”

“I’m not busy.” If he was looking at her, she couldn’t tell. The sun’s reflection still kept her from seeing his eyes. But he didn’t say anything else.

“Would you… Do you…want to come?”

Rob didn’t respond at first, as if it were a question that required deep thought to find the answer. But he lifted his head and met her eyes again when he did speak, and his gaze was steady and very certain. “Yeah,” he said. “I’d like that.”

Jess smiled at him, her entire face lighting with her delight, and Rob felt more of the defenses he’d erected against this woman eroding, just totally melting away.

He couldn’t help but think about that evening last week when, after Jess’s ex-husband had put in an appearance, Rob had found himself telling her about his father, for God’s sake. He just stood there, watching and listening to himself tell her things he hadn’t told anyone. Ever. He’d had to force himself to stop talking, to walk away before he told her more. And now he’d gone and told her he’d like to go on a date with her. What was he thinking? Where was his mind?

Dear God, he was in trouble here. It was all he could do not to reach out and touch her smooth, sun-kissed cheek with his hand. She’d just asked him out and like a fool, he’d accepted, pushing them both one step closer toward the hell and heartache that was inevitable. God help them both.

“Great,” she said. “Give me fifteen minutes to get changed and then we can go. Mind if we take your car? My clutch is acting up again and—” She looked around the driveway, and then out toward the street. “Where is your car?”

“I lent it to…someone,” Rob replied, unwilling to tell her that he’d intercepted Ian again, just moments ago, out on the street in front of her house. Ian had come with the excuse that he needed to borrow Jess’s car. Rob had lent Ian his own car, simply to keep him from hassling Jess. Ian was supposed to return it later tonight. “I didn’t think I’d need it. I could call a cab and—”

“No,” Jess interrupted. “That’s not necessary. My car will get us there.” She smiled, another burst of sunshine. “I’ll drive along the bus route just in case.”

“If you want, I can take a look at your car,” Rob said. “I’m pretty good with foreign engines.”

He could see surprise in Jess’s eyes. What kind of computer geek knew the first little thing about cars? But she didn’t say a word, didn’t ask one single question. She simply accepted whatever minuscule tidbits of personal information he threw in her direction. She respected his privacy. Yet he could tell that she hoped he’d open up and really talk to her. Too bad, because that was one thing that wasn’t going to happen. He was going to leave her with all of her questions still unanswered.

“Pull your car out of the garage,” Rob said evenly. “I have to make a couple of phone calls first, but then I’ll check it out.”

“All right,” she responded. “Thanks.”

She used her key to trigger the automatic garage opener and the door that was built right into the side of the house rolled up. She disappeared into the dark, cool gloom and after a moment the car started with a muffled roar.

Unable to shake the feeling that he was being watched, Rob glanced up at the neighbor’s rundown old house. Sure enough, there was Mr. Greene, sitting in his wheelchair on his porch, staring down at him with cold, baleful eyes. Rob had seen the old man out there when he’d come home even late at night—past 2:00 a.m. Mr. Greene was always watching. He looked as if he were judging, condemning, like an aging Roman ruler, ready to give the signal of thumbs-up or down.

Thumbs-down. That seemed to fit this situation perfectly.

God, he had to stop this before it got out of hand. He had to tell Jess he couldn’t go to the Pelican Club with her. He had to tell her that he needed to move out.

Jess backed out of the garage, then cut the engine and climbed out of the car. As she walked toward Rob, a breeze blew, ruffling her dark hair, leaving one silky lock out of place. He couldn’t stop himself. He reached up to smooth it back down, and as he touched her, their eyes met and she smiled. And all of the words he needed to say dried up in the heat of his desire. Everything that he knew he should say and do instantly became as hard and as unrecognizable as the worm Kelsey had found.

Rob wanted Jess more than he’d ever wanted a woman before. It was more than pure physical need, although there was plenty of that. But there was also emotional need—a vast, empty longing for a normal life, for a chance to feel at peace.

“I better go get dressed.” Jess’s voice was slightly breathless as she pulled away from him. “I don’t want to be late.”

Rob watched her walk up the stairs, wondering how, after this was over, he was going to live with himself.

JESS LOOKED AT HERSELF in the bedroom mirror. The dress she was wearing dated from her college days at Berkeley School of Music. It was black, with a cuffed, low V-neckline that plunged down between her breasts. Her arms were bare, and the full skirt ended midthigh. The skirt used to be a lot longer, but Jess had taken her scissors to it, in an attempt to update her wardrobe without spending any money. The end result was still elegant, with the added bonus of a lot of leg. And that’s show biz, she thought wryly, slipping into her black pumps.

Rummaging through her purse, she found her makeup. She ran a brush quickly through her shiny, dark hair, dug her dangling onyx earrings out of her jewelry case and put them on.

“I’m ready,” she sang out as she carried her guitar onto the deck and locked the door behind her.

Both Kelsey and Rob looked up as she came down the stairs. But while Kelsey merely glanced at her mother from her perch on the swing set, Rob’s eyes were riveted to Jess.

He wiped his hands on a rag and lowered the hood of her car, latching it firmly. “You look beautiful,” he said. Then he frowned. “I thought the Pelican Club was casual.”

“You can be casual.” Jess smiled. “I, as your evening’s entertainment, want to be noticed.”

Rob nodded. “You’ll be noticed.”

“Thank you,” Jess said. Lord, he looked so serious, standing there like that, trying so hard to hide his attraction to her. But he couldn’t hide it entirely—which was a good thing, especially since he was the one she wanted to notice her.

As his eyes lingered on her legs, Jess felt a momentary flash of apprehension. She was finally going on a date with this man—because she had asked him. He’d been living next door for two weeks, but she still didn’t really know him. Who was he? Where had he come from? She knew his father had abused him as a child. Rob had a background as different from Jess’s own happy childhood as she could imagine.

Jess put her guitar into the trunk and her bag into the back seat, trying to dispel her uneasiness. “How does the car look?”

“You were right,” Rob said, tossing the rag onto the floor of the garage and lowering the door. “The clutch needs to be replaced. It should be okay for the next day or two. It could even last as long as a month. But sooner or later it’s going to go.”

“Probably when I’m already late for an important audition,” Jess said, rolling her eyes.

Rob moved toward her, but stopped a good six feet away, careful as always not to get too close. “I’d offer to replace it for you, but I don’t have the tools for it. I could see if I could borrow some, though.”

“Thanks, but no.” Jess shook her head. “I can’t take advantage of you that way.”

“Yes, you can,” Rob said quietly. “I’d love to do it for you. I’m just not sure if I’ll have a free weekend before the clutch goes out.”

Jess had to turn away, afraid that he would see the sudden longing in her eyes. Despite all of his secrets, she liked Rob too much. She liked his direct approach with Kelsey, the way he talked to the little girl as if she were a grown-up. She liked his gentle smile and his warm laughter and the way his eyes crinkled at the edges when he was amused. She liked the way his hand had felt in her hair.

But at the same time, he was a mystery. He was intriguing, with a dark past, possessing more than a hint of danger.

And she was intrigued.

Jess turned back to face him. “Thank you,” she said simply. If he’d been standing any closer, she would have leaned forward and kissed him. But he was too far away. She took a step toward him—

“Yoo hoo!”

Jess looked up to see Mrs. Greene standing on her porch, next to her husband’s wheelchair. The bright pink-and-orange flowered muumuu she was wearing over her large girth rippled slightly in the evening breeze.

“Where are you going?” Mrs. Greene called out. She wore a pair of binoculars around her neck and she lifted them to her face, turning a dial to bring Rob into better focus.

“I’m singing tonight out on Siesta Key,” Jess said patiently, hiding her exasperation. It was good her neighbors were always watching her house, she told herself. She didn’t have to worry about burglars or vandals. The nosy Greenes were better than a guard dog.

“Oh, really?” Mrs. Greene called. “Where?”

“The Pelican Club,” Jess replied.

“And the new tenant’s going along?”

“His name is Rob Carpenter, Mrs. Greene,” Jess said patiently. “You’ve met him before.” She turned to Rob. “Rob, you remember Mrs. Greene. And Mr. Greene,” she added. It was easy to forget the silent, angular man in the wheelchair. He faded to almost nothing alongside his enormous, talkative wife.

“Of course,” Rob acknowledged.

“Too bad Stanford’s not back from the store,” Mrs. Greene said, referring to her only son. “I’m sure he’d love to go along with you. I don’t suppose you could wait twenty minutes…?”

“No, I’m sorry.” Jess tried her best to sound regretful. “We’re already running a little late. Maybe next time.” She turned toward the backyard, praying that Stanford wouldn’t come home early. “Okay, Kel,” she called, trying not to sound as if she were suddenly rushing. “Wagon train, ho!”

Kelsey came running, stopping to pick the newspaper up off the lawn. She carried it with her into the back seat.

“Bye, Mrs. Greene,” Jess called out as she and Rob and Kelsey all climbed into the car. But Mrs. Greene had already gone back into her house.

Jess glanced at Rob as she started the car. He didn’t say anything—he didn’t even smile. But she could see amusement in his eyes.

As Jess pulled out of the driveway, old Mr. Greene watched them from his wheelchair on his porch, craning his neck as they moved out of sight. “Seat belts fastened?” she asked her daughter.

“Check,” Kelsey said. “What does s-e-r-i-a-l spell?”

Jess exchanged a quick look with Rob. He leaned toward the back seat. “Let me see that, Bug.”

Kelsey handed him the newspaper.

Jess pulled up to the stop sign at the end of the street and looked down at the paper Rob now held. “It spells serial, Kel,” she said distractedly as she silently read the headline, “Sarasota Serial Killer—Victim Eleven.” She quickly skimmed the article. Another murder had occurred, this latest not more than a few miles from her neighborhood. The victim had been another young woman. She had been raped, and her throat had been cut. And like all the other victims, she had been found naked, in her own bedroom, with her face heavily made up, and with a ten-foot length of rope tied tightly around her left ankle. What kind of man could do such a thing? A person who had grown up with constant pain and violence, perhaps? Jess’s eyes slid toward Rob and she found herself wondering… No, that was ludicrous. Wasn’t it?

“Who are all those ladies?” Kelsey asked, leaning forward to look over Rob’s shoulder.

The newspaper had run studio photographs of all of the victims to date. There were ten of them—eleven after last night.

“Mommy, they look kind of like you,” Kelsey said. “So pretty. Is it some kind of beauty contest?”

Jess looked closely at the pictures. Kelsey was right. All the women did resemble her. They all had dark hair, and most of them wore it short. They all had faintly heart-shaped faces, with large dark eyes…

She swallowed, fighting the wave of fear that gripped her. How unpleasant to realize that she fit the description of the type of woman the killer liked to murder most….

She turned back to Kelsey, trying hard to make her voice sound natural. “Someone killed those women,” she replied. “The police are trying to catch him.”

“Until he’s caught, you’re going to have to be careful, okay, Bug?” Rob said.

Jess put the car into gear, but she saw Kelsey nod very seriously in the rearview mirror.

“You have to remember to stay close to the house. Don’t go anywhere alone. Especially at night,” Rob instructed. “Jess has to remember that, too.”

Jess looked over at him.

“You’ve got to keep the doors and windows locked,” he said in a low voice. “Promise me you will, okay?”

He cares about me, Jess thought, suddenly deliriously happy despite the frightening newspaper story, despite the fact that Rob remained such a mystery. “I promise,” she agreed. She glanced at Kelsey as she pulled out onto the main road, heading west toward Siesta Key and the Pelican Club. “Okay, Kel,” she added, “You got your drawing pad and pencils?”

Kelsey rummaged through her backpack. “Check.”

“You got your Star Trek dolls?”

“Check.”

“How about the sticker book, coloring book and crayons, giant monster mazes book?”

“Check, check and…check.”

“Look in my bag for me. Did I forget anything?”

Kelsey opened Jess’s bag and peeked inside. “Extra guitar strings, capo, tuner, two cords,” the girl said. “Pitch pipe, Swiss army knife and your little box of picks.”

“Thanks. Okay. Now tell me again. What are the rules?”

“No talking to you during the set,” Kelsey recited. “And stay close, where you can see me. I won’t go out of your sight, and I won’t talk to strangers.”

“Good,” Jess said. “Course, this time it’ll be different, because Rob’s here.” She glanced up and found him watching her, and felt a flash of warmth. Rob’s here.

“Rob and I are going to eat dinner while you sing,” Kelsey said. “I’m going to have the broiled scrod.”

“Oh, Bug, what a thrill.” Rob grinned as he turned sideways in his seat to look back at Kelsey. “I can’t tell you how often I’ve longed for a dinner date with a beautiful woman who actually knows what she wants to order before we even walk into the restaurant.”

“We Baxter women are known for our decisiveness,” Jess said, then laughed. “Of course, I realized as soon as I said that, that I can’t decide which song to open my first set with.”

“’Country Waltz’ or ‘Jamaica Farewell,’” Kelsey suggested.

“I can’t start a set with a song that has farewell in the title,” Jess protested.

“Then ‘Country Waltz,’” Kelsey said. “There. You decided. No sweat.”

Jess looked at Rob and grinned. “Life should always be so simple, shouldn’t it?”

THIS TIME HE FELT IT begin as he was in the car. He had gotten depressed again after last night, and even thought about turning himself in. But as he slipped out of his depression and into the warm feeling of expectation, he basked in the rush of knowing that he would, that he must, strike again.

For a moment, he wondered what made him know that it was time again to start the game. The thought had barely formed before it was pushed aside by an almost giddy confidence. The urge was upon him, and he would fulfill it. He was totally in control, completely unstoppable. His senses were so keen he had to turn the radio down to barely a whisper to keep the sound from hurting his ears. He put his sunglasses on to protect his eyes from the brightness of the blue sky.

When the car stopped at a red light, he tried to identify the taste in his mouth. Then, as the light turned green, he smiled and surged forward.

Of course.

The taste in his mouth was blood.

Chapter Three

The Pelican Club’s outside bar was already crowded, and Jess quickly set up the house sound system. She was still fifteen minutes early, but this job paid particularly well. If she left a good impression, it could become a weekly gig. She tried not to think of all the things in her life that needed to be repaired or replaced. Instead she concentrated on adjusting the small mixing board and hooking up the microphone and the cord from her guitar.

She tuned up quickly, put her gleaming guitar into a stand, and crossed to the bar.

The bartender was a man she’d never seen at the Pelican Club before. He was different from the usual beefcake-types she’d met there in the past. He was older, shorter, slighter. He was average height and build, with short dark hair that curled slightly in the humidity and looked as if it hadn’t been combed after he’d taken a shower. He wore the tight red T-shirt with khaki shorts that were the standard uniform for all of the staff at the Pelican Club. He had a typical beach bum’s two-day growth of beard, but something about him seemed oddly out of place, as if he didn’t belong here.

“Hi, I’m singing here tonight,” she said, when he looked up from replacing glasses in the overhead rack. “Lenny said someone named Pete would be on duty…?”

“I’m Pete.” He had silver-gray eyes and a smile that came and went far too quickly, leaving his rather angular face looking almost stern. “You’re Jess Baxter. You look just like your picture.”

“My picture…?”

“The manager pinned it to an easel in the lobby,” Pete explained. “Where it says, ‘Tonight’s Entertainment.’”

He leaned his elbows against the bar, his body relaxed and loose. But his eyes were watchful and sharp, and he seemed to study her face, her dress and her body beneath it.

“I’m going to start in a few minutes,” Jess said, backing away from him. Glancing around, she spotted Rob and Kelsey sitting at a table at the side of the crowded deck. Rob had his back to the railing that looked out over the water. As their eyes met, she felt a familiar surge of energy and excitement. She had to force herself to look back at Pete. “I’ll need you to turn off the tape that’s playing.”

Pete nodded. He gestured with his head toward Rob and Kelsey. “Is that your family?”

“My daughter,” Jess said. “And…a friend.”

The bartender nodded, glancing again at Rob. It was a seemingly casual move, but Jess couldn’t shake the feeling that those odd, silvery eyes missed nothing. “Just let me know when you want the music turned off,” Pete said, moving away to serve a customer.

Jess crossed the room, toward Rob and Kelsey. What was it about the bartender that seemed so odd? Sure, his eyes were an unusual color, and he didn’t smile very much, but that wasn’t it. There was something else that seemed wrong.

“Problem?” Rob asked, rising to his feet as she approached their table.

Jess shook her head. “No, just stage fright, I guess.” She took a deep breath in and let it out in a rush, forcing herself to smile. “Believe it or not, after all these years of performing, I still sometimes get it.”

“You know, I read a book once,” Rob told her, “that said what you call something, what you label it, helps determine whether or not you feel positively or negatively about it. Like, some people get what they call ‘stage fright’ and become terrified or sick from it, but other people call that same feeling ‘excitement’ and they get pumped up and really jazzed about a performance. It’s the same feeling of anticipation—that kind of butterflies in the stomach feeling—but what these different people label it determines how they’re going to react to it.”

Jess was looking at him peculiarly, her eyebrows slightly raised. “You’re not following me, are you?” he added.

But she shook her head. “Yeah, actually I am,” she said. “And I agree with everything you just said. You’re right. Usually I don’t call this feeling stage fright.” She looked out over the rail at the calm water of the harbor. “But tonight, for some reason, I’m particularly nervous.” She turned to look at him again. “I think I’m more nervous about being here with you than I am about singing,” she admitted frankly.

But before he could respond, she changed the subject. “You do read a lot, don’t you,” she said.

Rob nodded, relieved to be on safer ground. “Yeah,” he replied. “That’s usually what I do when I’m not working.” But not by choice. He didn’t say those words aloud, but as he met Jess’s eyes, he knew that she could read his face as clearly as one of his books.

“I like books,” he said almost defensively. He just wouldn’t spend all of his time reading—living a fantasy life—if he had any kind of choice.

But he hadn’t had a choice in so long…

Jess was watching him. Her dark eyes were so perceptive. They were bottomless and warm and incredibly gentle.

“Why do you hide?” she asked quietly.

His first thought was, God, she knew. But how could she possibly know? She was speaking figuratively, not literally. “I think of it more as trying not to make waves,” he said. “Or trying to be invisible.”

“Why?” she asked.

Why? What could he say to her? He’d already told her too much. Again. What was it about this woman that made him break his self-imposed rules over and over again?

Jess searched Rob’s face. For a few moments, he’d let his guard down, and she’d been able to see an array of emotions cross his face. But now again, his eyes were guarded, his expression closed.

Invisible. That was a good word for the way he held himself, for the way he made himself blend in. Except right from the start, Jess had been able to see past that. But, clearly, she was the exception. Not everyone would take the time to search for the real man.

“What if,” she said softly, “you’re busy being invisible, and your perfect match—your soul mate, so to speak—can’t see you? What if she walks right past?”

This conversation had long since gotten out of hand. Rob forced himself to smile. “I’m not too worried about that,” he said, trying to make his voice sound light. “Look, I’m going to the bar. Can I get you something to drink?”

Jess shook her head, no, and Rob just barely made it over to the bar. What if he was invisible and his soul mate could see him? He glanced back at Jess as she sat next to Kelsey and she gave the little girl a hug. She looked across the room at him and smiled, and he could barely breathe. How could he have a soul mate? At times he felt he didn’t even have a soul.

By the time the bartender served him a glass of soda, and he walked back to Jess and Kelsey, he was able to smile again.

“I’m going to start singing. Give me a kiss,” Jess said to Kelsey, leaning over to smooch her daughter’s smooth cheek.

“Break a leg.” Kelsey didn’t even look up from her coloring book.

“Don’t drink more than one glass of root beer for each set.”

Kelsey carefully selected a turquoise-colored crayon from her box. “What if I’m thirsty?”

“Water has been known to quench thirst.”

Jess stood up, tilting her head to look up at Rob. Their gazes locked, and she felt a dizzying warmth that started deep in the pit of her stomach and spiraled upward.

For once he was close enough so that all she would have to do would be to lean forward, and his arms would go around her. And then if she lifted her face to his…

He wanted to kiss her. Jess knew just from looking, from the way he gazed at her mouth, from the heat and longing in his eyes.

But it was crazy. They were standing in a room filled with people—including her six-year-old daughter.

She wanted to kiss him, too, but instead she touched his arm, letting her hand slide down to his hand. The sensation was shockingly intimate as he intertwined their fingers. Jess felt herself sway toward him.

This was crazy. Still gazing into her eyes, he reached out, cupping her face with his other hand. She stood on her toes, lifting her mouth to his.

Their lips met, featherlight and gentle. His mouth was warm and sweet, and she wanted more.

But she pulled away, shaken by the intensity of her desire. His breathing, too, was unsteady as he stared at her.

“Wow,” Jess finally said. She managed a shaky smile. “Can you hold that thought for about—” she glanced at her watch “—four hours?”

But it was as if Rob didn’t even hear her. “I’m lost,” he murmured, shaking his head slowly. “Dear God, I’m totally lost.”

Jess glanced down at Kelsey, who was taking great pains to appear absorbed by her coloring book. Which meant she hadn’t missed that kiss.

That kiss… He had kissed her. She felt a sudden burst of intensely perfect happiness. With a flash, she could see herself with Rob and Kelsey, laughing together in the kitchen, cooking dinner. Cooking breakfast. She could picture them taking trips to the beach, gazing up at the stars on a clear night. She could imagine a future filled with laughter and song.

“I’m lost,” Rob whispered again.

Not me, thought Jess. I’m found.

HE WAS CONFUSED.

It was an odd feeling.

For so long, he’d known exactly what he’d needed, and exactly what he had to do to get what he needed.

He still knew. But never before had the temptation to do otherwise been so powerful, so sweet.

Rob looked down at Kelsey, still coloring away in her book. She was part of the temptation. With very little effort, he could slip into the role of father. Father, husband, lover, friend. Soul mate. He could be normal, have a healthy family, make brothers and sisters for this little girl, make babies with her vivacious, beautiful, heart-stoppingly sexy mother.

Jess.

She stepped gracefully onto the small stage. Picking up her guitar, she sat on the stool, crossing her long, slender legs as she adjusted the microphone.

She met his eyes from all the way across the room and smiled.

She was temptation incarnate. She was unlike any woman he’d ever known—except maybe his own mother. But his mother was just a shadow. An elusive, ghostly memory from his early childhood, hovering just out of range of his peripheral vision.

Jess was real.

She was flesh and blood.

Blood.

His stomach hurt and he tried to stop thinking, stop feeling.

He watched Jess nod to the bartender, and the man faded out the taped music that had been playing. Softly, she began to play, taking the introduction around twice as her fingers warmed up.

As she started to sing, her voice was soft and light. Even through the sound system, it barely cut above the noises of the bar. She kept her eyes down, singing the first verse of the song almost as if to herself, and slowly the crowd quieted down. They had to quiet down if they wanted to hear her smooth, rich, alto voice at all. By the time she was ready to sing the refrain, Rob could’ve heard a pin drop. She looked up at the audience then, smiling as if they were all friends who just happened to drop by while she was singing in her living room. She looked around, meeting the eyes of individual people in the crowd.

“It’s just a simple country waltz,” she sang. “The kind you hear all the time. So darlin’, let this dance be mine.”

Jess let her eyes rest on Rob as she sang the second verse. “The music pulled us out across the floor. You held me oh so tight.” Her voice caressed the notes as she looked into his eyes.

God, how he wanted her. He wanted to kiss her, to devour her, to fall back on his bed with her, her body underneath his. He wanted to lose himself in her, to hear her cry out his name.

His hands were clasped tightly in front of him on the table, and he looked down, away from her for a moment, closing his eyes briefly. When he looked up, she was still watching him, and he knew she couldn’t help but see the heat in his eyes.

“Your smile, it set my heart on fire,” she sang, her own desire thickening her voice. “I hoped that you’d be mine, and stay and dance with me all night.”

Her eyes were telling him that she was singing this song for him. She was giving him an invitation to become part of her life tonight. But not just tonight. Every night. Jess was not a one-night woman. Her invitation would last from now till death do us part.

Death.

God, if she only knew…

JESS STEPPED OFF the stage and nearly ran right into Stanford Greene.

“Evenin’ Miss Jess,” he said, in his thick southern accent. He was standing much too close—they were nearly nose to nose. His eyes watched her unblinkingly. She was reminded of the baleful stare of his father, sitting in his wheelchair, out on the porch.

“Stan!” she said in surprise. She took a step backward, trying to achieve a more normal distance between them. He never seemed aware of anyone’s personal space. “What are you doing out here?”

He shuffled toward her, his hat in his fat fingers. She moved back another step, bumping against the hard wood of the bar. All this time, and the man still hadn’t blinked.

“Ah came to hear you sing. Mama sent me over. She thought it might be a good thing for me to get to know you a little better. Us both being unwed, you with a small child to raise…”

Jess carefully kept her face neutral. “Oh,” she managed to say.

He leaned closer to her and spoke conspiratorially. “I think she wants a grandkid of her own.” A thin strand of the greasy hair that he kept combed across his bald head was dislodged, and it hung down in front of his left ear, almost to his shoulder.

Jess wasn’t sure what to say. “Well,” she hedged. “That’s nice…”

“Yes, ma’am.” He didn’t move. His watery eyes moved down to her low neckline.

Jess tried hard to keep her voice pleasant. “Um, Stan, have you got a table, a place to sit?”

“No, ma’am. Ah have just arrived.”

Jess grabbed the empty bar stool next to her gratefully, patting the smooth seat. “Well, here you go. Why don’t you sit right here, order yourself something to drink? I’m going to start singing again really soon, and right now I have to go check on…on Kelsey,” she said, clutching at her daughter as an excuse, “so I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Stanford Greene, Jess thought, shaking her head as she made her escape, easing her way through the crowd. Did Mrs. Greene honestly think that Jess and Stan… No, it was too awful to consider. What was that saying—not if he was the last man on earth?

Just as Jess approached Rob and Kelsey’s table, a strong hand seized her above the elbow.

“Jess! Darling! Taking your union break, I see.”

She froze. The slightly bored, cultured voice was unmistakable. She slowly turned around.

Ian. Wearing a Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned nearly all the way, and a scruffy pair of safari shorts. His shoulder-length blond curls looked as if they had exploded around his face, and his pale blue eyes were rimmed with red. Her ex-husband had been drinking.

“Oh, damn.” She quickly glanced at Kelsey. The little girl’s smile had faded, and she was coloring again, giving her book her total, undivided attention.

“A gracious greeting as usual,” Ian said, slipping his arms around her waist. Jess turned her head away before he could kiss her on the mouth. Instead he kissed her just underneath her ear, letting his lips trail down toward her throat.

She tried to break free, but he held her too tightly. “Ian, stop it,” she whispered. If she struggled too hard, there’d be a scene. Lord, if there was one thing she didn’t want tonight, it was one of Ian’s scenes.

“Delicious,” he murmured, still nuzzling her neck. “Absolutely delicious. Don’t you think, Robert?”

Rob. He was coming to her rescue.

“That’s enough, Ian,” Rob said evenly, pulling Jess gently away from the other man.

“Yes, sir,” another man added. “Don’t be obnoxious, Ian.”

It was Frank Madsen—Rob’s friend from his office. No, not his friend—an acquaintance, Rob had called him. Jess hadn’t noticed Frank at first, standing quietly behind Ian.

“You don’t mind if we join you?” Ian asked mockingly, pulling another chair up to the table and sitting down. “You all know Frank Madsen, right? Of course you do. I first met him at one of your gigs, Jess. And he works over at that computer place with Robert, isn’t that correct?”

Jess smiled tightly at Frank as he shook hands briefly with Rob. She had to get Ian and his abusive mouth away from Kelsey. “Actually, Ian, I do mind—”

He tossed a ring with two keys onto the table. “Here are your car keys, Robert,” he said. “Thank you so very much.”

Jess looked up at Rob in surprise. “You lent Ian your car?” she said.

I’m sorry, his eyes said. His arm was still protectively around her, and she felt her pulse quicken from the warmth and solidness of his body next to hers. “He had some kind of emergency,” Rob told her quietly, “and I didn’t need it…. He was going to drop it off tonight, so I called and left a message on his machine that I wouldn’t be home—that I’d be here, with you.”

He clearly hadn’t expected Ian to come all the way out here to return his car—and to hassle Jess. But despite the words of warning he’d given her recently, he obviously didn’t know Ian very well. Certainly not well enough to lend him his car. But Rob was always loaning people his car. Jess remembered a few months ago she’d heard that he’d even let Stanford Greene borrow it.

“I told you just to leave it in the driveway,” Rob said to Ian. “With the key under the mat.”

Ian shrugged expansively. “I thought I’d do you a favor and bring it out here.”

“I have to get ready for my next set,” Jess said abruptly. “And no doubt Ian has someplace else to be…?”

“Actually, no,” he replied, sitting back in his chair and stretching his legs out underneath the table. “Frank and I were just talking, weren’t we, Frank?”

“Ian—” Frank said in a warning voice, shaking his head. He met Jess’s eyes apologetically. He was older than the rest of them, in his midforties at least, with straight golden brown hair and rather nondescript hazel eyes. He was tall, quite a bit over six feet, with a paunch starting out front. He looked like a former football player gone to seed, still quite handsome, but fading around the edges.

“I was wondering just how many men in this place want to make it with my ex-wife,” Ian mused. “I’d guess there are three right here, sitting at this table.”

Kelsey put down her crayons and stared at her father, hostility on her small face.

Rob squeezed Jess’s shoulder, then crossed around to Kelsey, digging several quarters from his pocket. “C’mon, Bug, why don’t you go play a video game?”

“With you?” Kelsey asked hopefully.

Rob glanced across the table. Jess nodded once. Yes. She wanted Kelsey away from there. She could handle Ian, particularly with Frank nearby.

As Rob led Kelsey away, Ian laughed. “Look at that guy, auditioning for the part of ‘Daddy,’” he mocked. “Isn’t that sweet? It makes me want to puke.”

“Ian, please leave,” Jess said quietly. She could feel the bartender watching them, his sharp eyes picking up the undercurrents of trouble.

Frank stood uncertainly near the table, unsure whether to sit or stand or leave Jess and her ex-husband alone.

Ian leaned forward. “Can you believe I saw Stanford Greene sitting at the bar?” he said, his voice lowered to a loud stage whisper. “How on earth did you persuade him to leave his mommy’s basement? Really, Jess, he’s not quite your type. I just can’t imagine the two of you together. Well, actually, I can, and it’s really rather hideous—”

Frank made his decision. “Ian, leave Jess alone. Let’s go. I’ll drive you home.”

“Without seeing Jess’s last set? We couldn’t!”

“Yes, sir, we certainly could,” Frank said firmly.

“You go then,” Ian said with a shrug. “I’m staying.”

“Excuse me. My break’s almost over.” Jess smiled one last time at Frank, then escaped into the crowd. When Ian became so absolutely pigheaded, there was no use arguing with him. She could only hope that he wasn’t loaded enough to start heckling her during her set.

She headed toward the bar, hoping to get a cool glass of soda to ease the headache that had started with Ian’s arrival. But she caught sight of Stanford Greene’s unblinking stare directly in her path, and made a quick detour to the stage. There were only a few more minutes before she had to go on, and she might as well spend the time tuning her guitar….

A hand touched her lightly on the back of her neck, and she jumped, spinning around. “Oh! Frank, you startled me!”

“Sorry.” The older man smiled apologetically. “I just wanted to say that I’ll try to keep Ian away from you.”

She looked up into Frank’s kind eyes. “Ian’s not your responsibility.”

Frank shrugged. “It’s not a problem. I’m happy to run interference.” He paused. “You know, Rob gave me a call, to let me know you were playing out here tonight. I guess you got this job sort of last minute, huh?”

“The manager called me just this afternoon.”

Frank nodded slowly. “Good for you,” he said.

Jess gazed across the club, to where she could see Rob’s brown hair near the pair of video games in the corner. “I can’t believe Rob lent Ian his car.”

“Good old Rob.” Frank smiled. “I’ve borrowed his car several times myself in a pinch.”

“He’s very generous,” Jess said.

“Yes, sir, he is, indeed.” Frank hesitated. “I didn’t know you two were…dating.”

Jess smiled. “Tonight’s our first date,” she said. “If you can even call it a date. I mean, Kelsey’s with us, and I’m performing….”

Frank nodded. “Oh. Well, I guess I’ll see you around.”

He turned to go. Jess put her hand on his arm, and it was Frank’s turn to jump.

“Sorry.” She smiled gently at his tense expression. “I just wanted to say, if I don’t see you after the set, thanks for coming. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

He nodded. “Okay.”

Jess strapped on her guitar, and sat back up on the stool. From over at the bar, she caught a glimpse of the bartender, Pete, watching her.

All evening long she’d been aware of his pale gray eyes following her around the room.

She met his eyes almost defiantly, and he smiled. Or at least he moved his lips upward in an approximate facsimile of a smile. This was not a man to whom a broad, heartfelt smile was a natural expression. It was strange that Lenny should hire him as a bartender. He normally liked retired bouncers—big, tall men with biceps the size of her thigh. Either that, or Lenny hired out-of-work stand-up comics. This Pete was obviously neither.

He wasn’t skinny, but he was no Arnold Schwarzenegger. As for his sense of humor…well, he was no barrel of laughs, either. There was something strange about him, and it was more than just the way he always seemed to watch her—after all, she was a performer. People were supposed to watch her.

Adjusting her microphone, Jess began to play a soft, soothing instrumental. She closed her eyes and before too long, she lost herself in the music.

HIS BODY WAS HUMMING. Every nerve was stretched tight, taut, ready to snap.

He couldn’t have her.

She was singing. Her beautiful, rich voice washed over him. It should have been calming, peaceful—instead it tore like barbs into his already sensitized skin. And the sound of the applause cut through him like a knife to his brain.

But he couldn’t leave.

Not with the stage lights making her silky dark hair gleam. Not when she looked out over the quiet audience and sang directly to him. For him. She had to be singing for him. He knew that she was.

He couldn’t leave, and he couldn’t stay. He just sat, feeling the rage building, boiling in his veins.

Chapter Four

It was after one o’clock before Jess put her guitar in the trunk of her car.

The parking lot was nearly empty, and inside the Pelican Club the lights were going off, one by one.

Rob was carrying Kelsey, and he gently put the sleeping child into the back seat and fastened the seat belt around her. He backed out of the car, careful not to hit his head, and quietly shut the door.

This wasn’t the way Jess had imagined their evening out would end. They had separate cars—and hers had a sleeping child in the back seat. Odder yet was the fact that if they said good-night here and both went home, they’d end up back at the same house.

Rob was watching her, his face hidden in the shadows.

“Well,” Jess said, to fill the silence. “That was a real circus, wasn’t it?”

He looked away. “I’m sorry about Ian showing up.”

“You didn’t know.”

“I should have.”

“Well, now you do.”

“I felt bad for Kelsey,” Rob said.

Jess glanced toward the car, where Kelsey was still sleeping, and shook her head. “Ian ignores her,” she said. “It’s unbelievable. He doesn’t even say ‘hi.’ And it hurts her so much. I try to keep him away from her.” She sighed. “That’s not necessarily the answer, but for now, it’s easier for Kelsey.”

“It could be worse.”

They lapsed into silence. Jess could hear the sound of the waves lapping at the dock alongside the restaurant. In the grass and trees, insects buzzed and chirped. Somewhere down the street, a dog barked.

“Well,” she said again. “I’d better get Kelsey home.”

Rob looked up. “Jess, I have to tell you,” he said in a rush of words, “that I can’t…”

But before he could finish, the last of the bright club lights went out, plunging them into sudden darkness.

“…that I can’t do this,” Rob concluded softly.

It was velvet, the darkness—soft and warm and enveloping them totally, cutting them off from the rest of the world and from each other.

“Whoa,” Jess said, reaching out for him, suddenly uncertain which way was up. “It’s dark. Where are you?”

“Here,” he answered. His hand gripped her arm, just above her elbow. “I’m here.”

“Can’t do what?” she asked. “I don’t understand.” His grasp turned into a caress as he ran his fingers up her arm to her shoulder. There were other people on the other side of the parking lot, but the darkness was complete, giving Jess and Rob privacy for the first time all evening.

She stepped forward even as he pulled her into his arms.

“Oh, God,” he breathed, holding her so tightly. “Oh, Jess.”

She could feel the warm solidness of his arms, the hard muscles of his chest, the athletic strength of his thighs. She fit against him perfectly, as if he’d been created with her in mind.

He groaned, and she could feel his arousal growing, pressing unmistakably against her. “I can’t do this,” he said again, his voice hoarse. “I can’t kiss you—”

But then he did. He lowered his head and took her mouth fiercely, with an intensity that left her breathless. It was a kiss nothing like the gentle brushing of lips they’d shared inside the club. It was a kiss that claimed her, filled her, possessed her.

Jess kissed him back passionately, hungrily, exploring his mouth eagerly as he seemed to inhale her. She’d been wanting to kiss him like this all evening long. She’d been anticipating this incredible rush, this roller-coaster pleasure ride of emotional and physical sensations that she knew kissing Rob would bring.

His hands were in her hair, on her neck, sliding down the bare V-back of her dress, moving down even lower to press her hips closer to him.

And still he kissed her. He kissed her as if there were no tomorrow, as if he, too, had been waiting much too long for this moment.

It was nothing like she’d imagined, and better than her wildest dreams.

Rob was so quiet, so calm, so careful. She’d imagined sweet, gentle kisses, softly whispered questions, asking her permission to touch her, to move each small step beyond a simple kiss.

But he kissed her wildly, relentlessly, his hands sweeping urgently across her body, cupping the curve of her derriere, weighing the swell of her breasts, his thumbs caressing the sensitive, erect points of her nipples. He knew exactly how to touch her to make the heat of desire flood through her, to make her gasp with need and tremble with longing. His thigh pressed insistently between her legs, and she opened herself, pressing the heat of her most intimate place against him.

The rocket of desire that soared through her was so intense, she gripped him harder and kissed him even more deliriously, urging him on.

Urging him on…?

Was it possible that mild-mannered Rob Carpenter was going to make love to her right here, in the darkened parking lot of the Pelican Club?

There was no denying that she wanted him. But not here. Not like this. Not with Kelsey asleep in her car….

Jess pulled away. It was only the slightest movement, but Rob instantly released her. He stepped back, still supporting her, but now from an arm’s length away.

She could hear his breathing, ragged and quick as he struggled to regain his control.

“Oh, my God,” he whispered. “I’m sorry—”

“No,” Jess said quickly. “Don’t apologize. Come home with me. That’s where we should be. I want to stop—but only until we get home.”

Across the parking lot, a car engine started with a roar. As it pulled out, its headlights swept across them. Rob released her and took another step back, pushing his disheveled hair out of his face.

“I can’t,” he said tightly. God, she would never know how much he wanted her. She’d never know how close those kisses had come to pushing him over the edge. She’d tasted so sweet, she’d felt so right in his arms. She’d so clearly wanted more… “Jess, I’m sorry—”

Another car started up. Rob looked down at Jess. Her lips were parted and moist, and her cheeks were flushed with desire. She wanted him to come home with her, to come with her into her bed. Her dark eyes were molten, wanting him…

In a sudden flash, he saw another woman, only this one looked up at him with pain and fear in her eyes. There was blood everywhere, so much blood… He was covered with the blood, with her blood. And as he watched, the pain and fear drained from those eyes, leaving them lifeless, glazed, dead…

Rob backed away. “I’m sorry….” he said again.

“It’s okay—”

“No, it’s not,” he said savagely, and turning, he bolted for the other side of the parking lot, for his car.

“Rob, wait—”

Jess started after him, but the light disappeared with the car that left the parking lot, leaving them again in darkness. Dammit, what was wrong with him? She couldn’t chase him—she couldn’t leave Kelsey.

She saw the sudden flash of headlights and heard the squeal of tires as his car pulled away.

He was gone. Just like that.

HE HADN’T PLANNED IT, but suddenly the need was so great, he had to do it.

This area was unfamiliar to him. That was bad. But the drive back to his own neighborhood would take at least half an hour. And once he was there, he wouldn’t be guaranteed satisfaction.

More importantly, he couldn’t wait that long. Already, he was burning.

Suddenly he knew the solution, and he pulled into the parking lot of one of the fancy condominium high rises that sat directly on Crescent Beach. It was risky, the car could get towed, but it must be done.

The beach was dark, and a thick fog was rolling in off the gulf. Several of the high rises had flood lamps that lit part of the beach, but most of them didn’t.

The darkness, the fog and the late hour didn’t keep a few hardy couples from strolling along the edge of the water, hand in hand. Occasionally, a crowd of partying teenagers would pass by, but mostly the beach was empty.

Empty and very, very dark.

The powdery sand shifted into one of his shoes. As he sat down on a wooden beach chair to wait, he emptied it out.

It didn’t take long until he found her.

She was walking alone, dressed in a windbreaker, her hair tied back with a scarf.

She wasn’t as young as she should be, and he didn’t even know the color of her hair. It wouldn’t be as good, as complete.

But it would be done.

He flicked his knife open.

WHEN JESS PULLED INTO the driveway, Rob’s car wasn’t there.

She hadn’t really expected him to be there, waiting for her, but at the same time, she couldn’t help feeling disappointed.

And hurt. Not to mention confused as hell.

What had just happened between her and Rob? Had she missed some vital and important moment? Had she misunderstood something he’d said?

One moment he’d been kissing her as if his single goal in life were to make love to her, and the next he was running away from her as if she carried the plague, shouting his apologies over his shoulder.

The entire episode had been too strange.

I can’t kiss you, he’d said—right before he’d kissed her.

And what a kiss. She’d never been kissed that way before. She’d never been kissed so hungrily, so passionately—as if she were the only woman in the world that he wanted.

Except he didn’t want her.

She’d invited him to come home with her, to make love to her. True, she hadn’t used quite those words, but her meaning had been clear. She’d been ready to give herself to him, totally.

And he’d run away.

He’d rejected her.

Don’t cry, she ordered herself sternly, trying to force back the tears that were flooding her eyes. It wasn’t the end of the world. It only felt like it right now.

A tear escaped, and she closed her eyes, letting her head fall back against the headrest.

What was wrong with her? Why was she always attracted to men who ended up hurting her?

In the back seat, Kelsey stirred and sat up groggily. “Are we home?”

Jess quickly wiped her face. “Yeah,” she said. “We’re home.”

“Where’s Rob?” Kelsey asked, more awake. “Didn’t we need to drive him home? Where did he go?”

Jess pushed the remote and the garage door slid up. She glanced at her daughter in the rearview mirror as she pulled into the garage. Even in the dimness, she could see that Kelsey’s eyes were dark with worry.

“Rob lent his car to Ian,” she explained. “Ian returned it to him, so Rob’s driving it home.”

But Kelsey didn’t seem to hear, or understand. “Was it Ian’s fault?” she asked suddenly, her small face tight. “Did he make Rob go away?”

“What?” Jess turned on the car’s interior light and looked at her daughter.

Kelsey looked down at her hands. They were clasped tightly in her lap.

“Kel, I don’t understand what you asked about Ian,” Jess said. “I need you to explain. Please?”

Kelsey looked up at Jess, tears in her big eyes. “When we were at the Pelican Club, you seemed so happy. I saw you and Rob kissing. While you were on stage, I asked Rob if he was in love with you, you know, like Ariel and Prince Eric in The Little Mermaid.”

Jess’s heart caught in her throat. “Oh, Kel.” What did he say, she wanted to ask. Lord, she thought, look at me, about to pump my daughter for information, like a lovesick seventh grader.

“He said that it was more like Beauty and the Beast, and then he looked really sad.” Kelsey took a deep breath. “But I was happy, because in the movie, the Beast comes back to life and he marries Belle in the end, and I thought that meant you and Rob were gonna get married, and we could all live happily ever after.”

There was a moment of silence while Jess took all of that in.

Kelsey added darkly, “Then Ian showed up, and he was so rude to you, saying those mean things, and I was so mad at him, and when me and Rob played video games, I was really just pretending to play, really, I was so mad at Ian….”

“I’m sorry, Kel,” Jess murmured, reaching back to pull her daughter up to the front seat and into her lap.

“Then Rob told me that it wasn’t Ian’s fault that he acted so rude. He told me that Ian was upset ‘cause he still loved you, and I told Rob that if Ian still loved you, then he wouldn’t be so mean to you, and I told him how Ian used to yell so loudly and break things and make you cry, and I was glad he didn’t live here anymore. I told him that I hated Ian.”

“What did he say?” Jess asked, looking down into her daughter’s fierce face.

Kelsey blinked, her angry expression changing. “Rob told me that it was okay for me to be mad at Ian. He said he was pretty mad at him, too. But he said that I should probably give Ian a break, because he’s my father, even though he doesn’t want me to call him Daddy. And Rob said that he thought maybe someday, when I’m older, I’d be able to get to know Ian, and maybe then I might even like him a little bit. He said that maybe by that time, Ian might be a little older, too, and that that would help.”

Jess didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“Rob’s a pretty smart guy,” she said. She took a deep breath. “Kel, Ian didn’t chase Rob away.” Jess had done that all by herself. “Okay?”

“Okay.” Kelsey’s face was still skeptical. “So, are you going to marry Rob?”

Jess hugged her daughter close to her. “We’ve gone on one date,” she told her. One date, and there wasn’t likely to be another. “People don’t get married after just one date.”

“Prince Eric and Ariel did,” Kelsey countered. “And so did Belle and the Beast.”

Jess gave Kelsey a kiss. “If only,” she said, “life could be as simple as a Disney animated movie.”

“MURDER ON SIESTA KEY—Victim Twelve?”

The sensational newspaper headline caught Jess’s eye at the gas station, inside the little attached convenience store.

A woman had been murdered on the beach on Siesta Key. Last night. Not more than a mile from the Pelican Club.

Jess quickly skimmed the article. The coroner’s report estimated the victim’s time of death at about 1:30 a.m.—just shortly after she had left the club. Minutes after that disastrous kiss.

Where had Rob gone after that? What had he done? He certainly hadn’t gone onto Crescent Beach and slit a woman’s throat. Had he?

The unpleasant truth was that Jess couldn’t say that for sure. She didn’t know Rob well enough. She knew he had a dark side and a violent past. But just how dark and violent?

According to the article, the police were hesitant to link this death to the Sarasota Serial Killer. All of the previous murders had been committed in the victims’ own bedrooms—this killing was done right out in the open, on the beach, not far from where Jess’s parents owned a house. And the woman didn’t fit the killer’s usual type. She was older, with light brown hair.

Not that it really mattered. Either way, the poor woman was dead.

And Jess couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that the dead woman could well have been her.

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